Chapter Text
tommy didn't remember the final thing that sparked it in the end.
there was too much, and it hit far too quickly. it didn't matter what it was, whether it was as small as going through school with a sore throat because he forgot to bring water, or if it was as serious as getting into a full-blown, violent fight and ending up in cuffs in the station. everything contributed to the rubble of boulders in his stomach that weighed down his every move and left him sluggish and helpless. every little thing was just a reason that bled into other reasons until they were overflowing in the form of burning, salted tears.
it was a friday when he'd concluded that tomorrow was the day.
and then saturday came.
and things were worse.
the first thing had been that tubbo was busy. it sounded stupid, he knew how fucking stupid it sounded, petty and childish and selfish and all those other words that sounded as if they were describing tommy himself.
he'd planned it out, laying on his mattress on tuesday night. they were skipping tutoring, first to go to a corner shop and buy snacks, then they would head for the park, fuck around on the swings and cackle as they had to wiggle down the slide for the little kids. just like usual. then they'd go into the town that was only a half-hour walk away, go into the shops and just take the piss out of the items there, hold up moronic kids books and laugh until they couldn't breathe and inevitably get kicked out. plus, he'd been saving up his money to buy tubbo a gift. he was going to get one for ranboo too, but he wanted to buy tubbos while he was with him so he could see the boys eyes light up as he handed the present over.
tommys phone laid against the sink, bright screen glaring up at him through the dark as he brushed his teeth. half-looking down, with one hand, tommy messaged tubbo and asked him if they were still on. there had been no reply by the time he was spitting out blood-stained toothpaste into the chipped basin of the sink, and so he tucked his phone into the pocket of his ratty jeans.
it buzzed as he left the room, and the moment his eyes laid upon the words, his heart sank.
there wasn't even an apology, or an excuse, or anything that showed he at least cared . all it was, was a 'oh, i forgot. i'm doing stuff today'.
tommy sat down on the edge of his bed, staring down at his phone through blurred vision. it stung, sure, a prick to the heart that ached, but the pain didn't truly settle in until his hand froze while scrolling through twitter.
it was a tweet from tubbos private account, the one only his close friends followed, posted five minutes prior.
the image was taken from a doorway, clearly, a slightly skewered angle of tubbos sofa. ranboo was tucked into noe corner of it, wrapped in blankets and folded in on himself. his eyes were focused on the screen, popcorn half-way lifted to his mouth. an arrangement of sweets and snacks covered the table in front of him, along with another popcorn bowl that clearly belonged to tubbo, judging by the amount of sugar and butter on it, and a bottle of calpol rolled on the carpeted floor beneath it. in the centre of the table was an 'up' dvd case, open and discarded, the disc missing from the middle.
tommy hadn't even bothered to look at the caption.
they'd cancelled plans to hang out behind his back, and they were watching 'up.'
the only movie tommy had ever fucking seen.
if tubbo's lies hadn't been bad enough, ranboo had declined to join them in their hangout because he wa doing 'serious drivers stuff' for the entire day. apparently.
tommy didn't know 'serious drivers stuff' included lounging on a sofa with tommys friend watching the only movie he'd ever seen and eating snacks he didn't' even know either of them liked.
he'd already called off sick for tutoring on hat day, it was the first thing he did when he woke up. the office worker had a frown in her voice as she scolded him for lowering his attendance even further, when it was already much much lower than it should be, but he'd just hung up on her.
tommy had the whole day cleared, and there was nothing to do.
he didn't know how long he'd sat on the edge of his bed, looking down at the floor, but by the time he'd finally found himself able to move, the moonlight was pouring through the windows.
with a quiet sigh, he shivered, turning to stare down at his unmade bed, blankets and pillows twisted and strewn across the red sheet, three plushes sat on his pillows.
two had been gifts, and the other had been a torn, raggedy kk slider plushie from his childhood.
the first gift was a black bunny, with a rosy button nose and pink paws. fluffy, droopy ears fell to its legs, and a vibrant purple ribbon wrapped around its neck. it was practically in tatters, sewn up with wool that didn't match its colours, a mess of yellows and whites and blues that stood out from the matted black fur. one eye was missing too, the other half-hanging off, but it was evident that it was loved.
the second gift was a teddy bear, fur a pale tan that highlighted its emerald green eyes. its nose was twisted slightly off-centre, and the tip of one of it's paws was missing, stuffing poking out of a few places, and mis-matching patches were sloppily sewn on top of the fur. a green bow was attached to the neck, a plaid fabric covered in rips and tears and holes, small, yet matching its theme.
a wave of numbness swept over him, and, before he knew what he was doing, he was knelt on the floor, knotting up his laces tightly, and heading for his door with two plushes in his tight grip. he didn't bother to lock the door behind him, leaving it skewered.
it was a shitty building, there was no receptionist, no one to stop him sprinting down the stairs and out the front door of the lobby.
he headed for tubbos house under the night sky, moonlight bouncing from his dry hair, illuminating the tears on his cheek that he didn't realise had started up. wind rustled his loose red shirt, brushing against his dark navy jeans. his red and raw arms burned as the breeze aggravated the pained skin.
tommy got lost in his mind, as usual, the hollow emptiness inside of him serving as a good topic to overthink on until he arrived at tubbos door.
with gentle, shaking hands, he set the bear down, and the bunny beside it. the gifts deserved to be returned to their owners, someone had to take care of them. he smiled down at them almost mournfully before he rose to his feet, knocking gently against the door before quickly leaving, half-running to the other end of the street.
just as he turned the corner, he heard a door open, and peaked back, morbid curiosity taking hold. a half-asleep tubbo rubbed sleep out of his eyes and knelt down to observe the plushes. then he'd begun looking around to see who'd left them there, and tommy didn't flinch, well aware of how he was comforted beneath the weight of the shadows that shielded him. he watched with empty eyes as tubbos eyebrows scrunched up, too far away to determine if the gloss in his eyes was tears or remainders of sleep. tommy didn't move as tubbo ran back into the house, shouting for ranboo.
so tubbo was worried.
shit.
that meant he had to be quick.
tommy hastily turned, heading for the eerie wooden trail into the woods, half-broken planks buried beneath autumn leaves and litter and scraps that shielded people from the splinters of the weathered down path.
it was bumpy and rotted from heavy rainfall, but tommy knew his way around it without tripping.
it was a familiar trail to a familiar place that felt like home.
the path was long and winding, circling around trees and logs and stumps, running over patches of mushrooms and wilted flowers and glass bottles, swerving around puddles and rubbish and tissues.
and then he was at the bridge again.
it was an old bridge, with chipped metal railings that had concaved beneath the rain over time, leaving them weak and warped. the river was his home. a rickety, mould-covered, overgrown bridge provided safe passage, but tommy preferred stepping over the rusted green railings, standing with a loose grip behind him, eyes shut as the wind brushed past him, the river calmly passing beneath him.
but he'd always climb back over, and go home.
not this time.
his pockets were heavy withs stones he'd picked up on his walk, but his heart felt heavier.
as he stepped over the railing, the routine made a morbid smile cross his face. he didn't bother holding onto the rails behind him, hands working on grabbing his phone.
the sudden blue light illuminated the forest and burned his eyes, but he kept his vision trained as he typed out a small apology with trembling hands, ignoring the floods of worried messages before it.
all it read was 'im sorry.' but tommy knew theyd understand.
his phone buzzed furiously in his hand as tubbo spammed his replies, but he didn't bother to read it, turning off his phone and dropping it onto the bridge at his feet, staring down at it blankly as glass spilled over the wood, the screen shattered.
tommy looked down at the water.
he knew it was deep. he'd tried swimming in it once, and had gotten pulled under, managing to fumble his way out of the tide and back onto the ground safely.
he took a deep breath, hovering one foot out, almost as a test.
"tommy, right?"
he jumped, hands reflexively grasping onto the railings behind him, shoulders hiking up in surprise as he glanced towards the voice.
there was a boy, not much older than him, with sickly pale skin and a warm smile.
"from english?" he continued, seemingly oblivious, "that's you, right?"
tommy didn't reply at first, inhaling shakily before nodding, "yeah."
"i'm wilbur, i sit at the other end of the back row? i'm the one you lent a pen to on thursday, i couldn't find you at the end of the day on friday to give it back," his voice was soft, calm, "i'm headed home now, if you want to come with me while i run up to my room and grab your pen. you don't have to come inside if you don't want to."
he stepped forwards, standing behind tommy, at his side, leaning over the railings, arms resting against the metal as he spoke.
"leave."
wilbur didn't reply, only hanging his head sadly.
"please, just- leave," tommy repeated in a trembling, thick voice.
he sighed, "i can't do that, can i?" his words were gentle, and he looked almost sad, face twisted with apologetic regret, bordering on understanding.
"mhm, and why not?" tommy spat, grip tightening on the railings as his eyes burned.
"because i know what you're doing."
time seemed to freeze.
but wilbur carried on.
"i know you're here to kill yourself. you're not the only one who's tried that here, tommy. i can see the rocks in your pockets, and your phone is shattered on the ground behind you," he nudged the device with his foot, "so how about you step back here, and i walk you back to your house, yeah? does that sound good?"
tommy couldn't respond, throat closing up and trying to fight the tears brimming his eyes, desperate not to let them spill across his face, "how'd you know?" he whispered.
"you're wearing short sleeves, i can see your arms. those are fresh. you're at a bridge, at night, alone, without a coat, shivering, stood over the railings, with rocks in your pockets. and now you're crying. i'm not wrong, am i?"
and he knew it wasn't a question.
"i know we're not friends, but you matter too much for me to let you kill yourself."
tommy choked on a sob, "nothing matters, wilbur, why don't you see-"
"the stars look nice tonight, don't they?"
he glanced backwards at the boy's sudden interruption, seeing him staring upwards.
"don't get me wrong, i don't like astrology, or star signs, or constellation names, or whatever. but… the stars are pretty, aren't they? look at them, tommy, look how bright they are," his words were soft and gentle, laced with care, "the stars are kind, tommy. they wouldn't want you gone," he placed a careful hand on tommys shoulder, watching as he slowly looked up.
tommy couldn't respond.
"how about you step back, and we can talk more, yeah?"
tommy was barely aware of his actions as he climbed back over, standing face to face with wilbur, looking up at him through glossy eyes.
"the stars want you to live, tommy. why else would they be so bright tonight?" wilbur spoke through a smile.
it was like he was a kid again, back to being a child beneath lumpy, cheap covers, staring up at one of his foster siblings with wide, entranced eyes as they softly read him a bedtime story. "they do?"
"of course they do."
"but what if i don't? are the stars worth disappointing?"
wilbur paused, finally meeting tommys eyes, and the sincerity and gentleness in his gaze almost made tommy choke out another sob again. "how about this? i get a month. a month to show you why life is worth living. only a month, and if you're still convinced by the end, i can do nothing to stop you. just one thing a day, just one thing to show you something good about living. how does that sound?"
"so," tommy swallowed, "until the end of january?"
he received a nod, and they sank into silence.
tommy ran the deal over in his head. a month wasn't bad. if he'd held on for sixteen years, he could handle a month. plus, wilbur was the only one who bothered to stop him. and he knew he would still want to kill himself by the end of the month, and wilbur had said he wouldn't stop him then.
why not humour him?
"fuck it, why not," tommy sniffed, scrubbing at his face with the back of his hand, "god. i feel stupid now."
"you shouldn't," wilbur reminded him gently, "take the rocks out of your pockets, tommy."
it was quiet as tommy out turned his pockets, leaving stones and rocks and pebbles to tumble out onto the bridge. he watched with watery eyes as wilbur kicked them into the water.
"give me your hand," wilbur carefully took his hand, scrawling on the back of it, before turning it over, and writing on a smaller, untouched part of his wrist a much shorter message. "now, how about you head home, alright? i'll see you in school on monday, right?" tommy nodded, "promise?"
"promise."
wilbur smiled, "good, i'm proud. do you mind if i walk back with you to make sure you get home safely?"
"i don't mind," tommy answered quietly, picking his phone up from the floor and beginning to walk, "so why did you stop me? really?"
he shrugged, "couldn't let someone else die, could i?"
it was vague, sure, but tommy wasn't going to push.
"you know that i know, like, absolutely nothing about you, right?" tommy spoke up.
wilbur let out an easy laugh, "all i know is you're the kid who fell asleep when we were doing hamlet, and i still have your pen. i don't know anything about you either, but that doesn't matter. we have a whole month, right?"
tommy could feel the guilt rising in his throat and burning his mouth as he spoke, "right."
wilbur didn't seem to mind his unsure answer, smiling down at him as he walked, "why'd you throw your phone?"
"my friends were blowing up my messages. and i didn't want to read them," tommy admitted quietly, ashamed of the way his heart ached at the mention of the friends who'd left him alone.
"your friends? do they know what you were doing?" wilbur asked gently, receiving an embarrassed nod, "have you told them that you're alive?"
tommy's heart sank.
"hey, no, it's okay, it's okay, don't worry about it," wilbur backtracked, "you don't have to talk to them right now, just message them so they know you're alive, okay? i can do it for you if you'd like," he offered.
silently, he unlocked his phone, and opened his discord, handing his phone over with teary eyes.
"tommy? do you want to tell me what to say to them, or do you want me to make it up?" wilbur questioned, walking at tommys side and sending him a worried glance.
tommy swallowed thickly, "can- can you just tell them that i'm alive, but i'm too tired to talk? please," he added, voice wavering.
it was quiet, the only sound being the repetitive noise of the typing keys, and their footsteps on the floor.
"done. you can check it over before you press send," wilbur passed his phone back, and tommy's heart squeezed as he noticed he'd brushed away the glass shards on the screen.
his eyes scanned it, checking over the words before pressing send. "thank you," he muttered quietly.
"it's no problem, tommy," wilbur spoke softly, ruffling his hair gently, "is this yours?"
tommy hadn't even noticed he'd stopped walking, but, as he looked up, they were outside the block of flats. "yeah."
wilbur glanced down at his arms quickly before meeting tommys eyes, "do you have stuff to clean those up? they look a few days old, but they still need cleaning."
"i've got- there's a first aid kit under my sink," tommy answered, voice dull, exhaustion catching up to him.
"you clean those up for me, yeah?" wilbur asked, receiving a nod, "i'm proud of you, tommy, thank you for getting down."
tommy's eyes stung, and he clenched his fists, scrubbing harshly at his cheeks to stop the tears, a response dying on his tongue. his face flushed red in humiliation, mortified at the way a simple praise left him in tears.
silently, wilbur opened his arms for a hug, which tommy practically sank into, head buried in the crook of his neck and arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, "you're allowed to cry in front of me, tommy. that doesn't make me any less proud," he muttered, a hand resting on the back of tommys head, holding him close. "you get inside, and you clean those arms up, and you go to sleep, okay? it's late."
"thank you, wilbur," tommy whispered.
wilbur pulled back, pulling his sleeves over his hands and wiping the tears from tommys cheeks, "you don't need to thank me tommy. i've got to head home now. it's only a ten minute walk, it's fine, don't worry," wilbur added at his concerned look, "i'll see you tomorrow?"
"i'll see you tomorrow," tommy echoed, nodding with a weak smile, watching as wilbur walked away before looking down at the hand that wilbur had written on.
on the back of his hand was a number, annotated with an arrow, and the word "me!" scrawled beneath. and on his wrist, was the first reason.
'reason 1! stars :D'