adam, reagan
As much as Reagan wanted to fall apart, he wasn't allowing himself to. Eventually, he'd managed to fall asleep, and when he wokeup the basement was completely quiet. Everyone seemed to have fallen asleep judging by the steady breathing he heard from each little cell. He got up and went over to the suitcase that Adam had packed, and he sat down on the ground to sift through his belongings. Halfway through, he found a shirt that was Liam's. It was a dress shirt, white, simple. Reagan had ones just like this, but he knew the difference between his and Liam's shirts, and he felt tears sting his eyes as he brought it up to his face to inhale the familiar scent. He wanted to curl up with the piece of clothing and just break down, but he had to keep his head clear, so he swallowed down the urge and folded up the shirt carefully to tuck it back inside the suitcase. There was a dresser, but the idea of putting things away made him feel sick to his stomach.

After a moment, he pulled out a simple thin white t-shirt and a pair of black slacks, along with some argyle socks and a pair of boxer briefs. He got up and slipped into the teeny bathroom to take a long shower, and it was then that he finally cried, though he did so quietly. After he'd brushed his teeth, he came back out into his cell and went to sit down on the bed, his hair still damp and curling at the ends a bit. He twirled his wedding ring back and forth around his finger before he took it off and slipped it into his pocket. He didn't want to risk Adam seeing it and taking it away.