Chapter Text
Tommy stared down at his phone, sniffing.
He was so done. He didn’t have any other choice. There was nothing else he could do. He had tried. He couldn’t hurt his parents. Not with how he was. They deserved a life without him, he didn’t want to hurt them but he still couldn’t get away either. Shaking back and forth slightly, he inhaled. Exhaled. Looked around.
It was a cold night, clear but icy. The stars were blotted out by the bright lights of the streets, and he exhaled again. Watched his breath fade away into the night. There weren’t many people around him. He was just sitting on the bench alone. So he looked down at his phone again. Exhaled and then pushed himself up. Slowly, he pulled his jacket off. Set his phone on the wooden slats and tucked it into his right jacket pocket once he had folded the thing up. Then he set it to the side on the bench. Took a breath and walked over to the edge of the bridge. Leaning against the railing, he looked down at the water way below him. Swallowing, he leaned a little bit further over the water. Closed his eyes for a second, tipped his head down.
Am I really doing this? His heart was pounding just at the thought of it. He had a letter in his jean pocket, in a plastic bag that was sealed up. In case he didn’t make it. An explanation, an apology. In case this didn’t go the way he hoped it would. But he would be gone, he’d be out, that was all he needed.
Taking a breath, Tommy swung a leg over the railing. Settled himself down on the other side and took another breath. Clinging to the railing, he leaned forwards slightly. Took a slow breath. There were hurried footsteps along the sidewalk.
“Hey!” Flinching, Tommy turned to look at them. Froze as his fingers loosened around the railing. His eyes locked with theirs for a second, he could see that they were a paramedic.
Then he was falling.
Yelling, Tommy flailed. Within a second, he had hit the water. A cold wave rushed over his head. It hit his head and immediately everything was dark.
He came to when someone grabbed him and he was pulled to the surface. Gasping, he clung onto them weakly, looked around. Icy water dripped from his hair and he let out a soft cry. Tried to kick his legs as best as he could. He was crying and soaking wet. Hiccupping, he looked around. They were still in the river. There was a boat nearby. Looking at it, he swallowed and then let himself be pulled over. They got up to the side and hands wrapped in the back of his shirt. He let himself be pulled over the edge and settled on the side of the boat. The person who hauled him out jumped over, too, and immediately there were people in front of him. Some of them were trying to check on him.
Instead, his reaction was to panic.
“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry I just—I didn’t know what to do—” he spluttered out, coughing. The people around him all seemed distracted and didn’t seem to care. One of them wrapped a blanket around Tommy’s shoulders, the person who had rescued him had already gone to get their own blanket and warm up. He kept talking. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—”
“Hey, hey, let’s get you to the paramedics, kid. They’re just on the side of the street, okay?” Coughing, Tommy nodded. Sniffed and rubbed at his face. They hurried him over to the side, where the paramedics were already waiting for them with some blankets.
He didn’t really think about what was happening next. He was just there, existing. The paramedics were talking. Then, suddenly, he jerked. Surging forwards, Tommy grabbed onto the paramedic’s arms, looked at them in a panic. He knew he looked crazy. “Please. Please, don’t let—don’t call my parents. Please. Please, I’m begging you. Call Phil—he’s my other guardian—him and Kristin. Please—”
“Hey, hey. It’s okay, it’s okay.” The paramedic soothed. “We’ll call them, we’ll call them.”
“Not my parents—not—”
“No, no, we’ll be calling Phil. Lay back, okay?” Panting, Tommy nodded. Leaned back against the gurney and cried a little more. “Are your parents why you did this? Are they hurting you?” Swallowing, Tommy stared at the roof of the van. Sniffed and rubbed at his face.
“I don’t want to die. I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t, I was just—I’m so scared I couldn’t figure anything out I’m going crazy—” Rubbing at his eyes, unable to keep the words from spilling out, he kept talking, “I just wanted to get away, no one would help me I didn’t want to hurt anyone I didn’t want to hurt anyone else—” He kept rambling. Talking about how he was just trying to get out, he couldn’t think of any other way and he was just so tired. One of the paramedics was rubbing his arm, gently, trying to soothe him. “I didn’t have any proof, I had no way of proving it, they took my phone—not like in a ‘oh my parents took my phone that’s abuse’ I couldn’t—I couldn’t record I didn’t know what to do—”
“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re going to be fine.” Swallowing, Tommy looked at them. “We’ll get you out, okay?” Nodding, Tommy leaned back into the gurney. Exhaled and then shivered. They tucked some more blankets around him and tucked a hot water bottle against his ribs and chest. Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back. The paramedic rubbed his hand again. “You’re going to be alright. Just get some rest, sweetheart. You’re going to be fine.”
Nodding, Tommy exhaled and closed his eyes, leaned back into the gurney and settled in a little more, listened to the talking around him as he just focused on breathing.
+++
They weren’t going to check him into the psych ward, luckily for him.
He’d admitted he didn’t want to die. It was the only thing that he could think of to get out. That was it, he had just been desperate. The only requirement that they had was that he had to go with Phil and Kristin and they would have to make sure he was okay.
Curled up in the hospital bed, still shaking because maybe, just maybe, it would be his parents walking in instead of Phil and Kristin, Tommy swallowed. Pulled the sheets around him a little bit closer. Sniffed. He was pretty much okay, just with a cup of water nearby and then some hot water bottles tucked to the sides of his body.
The door opened. Even though he didn’t recognize the footsteps, Tommy turned to the side, looked back with a pounding heart. When he saw Phil and Kristin there, already, he relaxed a little bit. The nurse pulled Kristin away, Phil walked in and went to the other side of the bed so Tommy didn’t need to turn over to look at him. “Hey, mate.” Phil spoke, softly. “You alright?” Swallowing, Tommy looked down.
“I’m sorry.” Reaching over, Phil offered his hand. Tommy met his eyes. Swallowed again and then shivered. Reaching out, Tommy rested his hand in Phil’s palm. Gently, Phil wrapped his fingers around Tommy’s, gently rubbed his thumb across Tommy’s knuckles.
“Do you want to talk about what’s been happening at home?” he asked softly. Looking at Phil in fear, Tommy swallowed and shrank down a little bit. Looked away. Curling his arms around himself, he pulled away from Phil a little bit. Phil clutched onto his hand a little bit more. Looked at him. “You don’t need to, Tommy. I know. They told us when we called. Said you didn’t want your parents to come and asked for us instead.” Gently, Phil reached up with his other hand. Tommy flinched away, and Phil paused. Looked at him like he wanted to cry. For a second, Tommy slowly inhaled and then leaned into his touch. Closed his eyes. “Would it be easier if I just asked you a yes or no question? Would it be easier for you to answer then? Because I need a couple answers, sweetheart.”
Swallowing again, Tommy reached down. Patted his jeans pocket and then put his hand in, found the bag and pulled it out. Handed it over to Phil. His face shifted again and then he took the proffered bag. Opened it when Tommy indicated for him to do so. Then, he opened up the bag and the letter with one hand, kept clinging to Tommy with his other hand. His eyes flicked over what was in front of him, the paper settled in his lap. His other hand went to his mouth, he tried to self-soothe, and then he looked up at Tommy.
“It’s not your fault.” Tommy whispered softly.
“Can I hug you?” Phil asked. Nodding, Tommy pushed himself up. Phil pulled him into a hug, rubbed a hand across his back and sniffed once. His shoulders were shaking a little bit.
Look, Tommy was done saying he wasn’t crying. He was done lying to himself about it. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t tell you. You didn’t know.”
“I know.” Gently, Phil clutched him a little closer. “We’ll keep you safe, Toms. No one’s going to hurt you.”