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bite the bullet [take you as you are]

Summary:

tommy was eighteen, bleeding to death in some shitty alleyway, shivering and alone.

the realisation struck abruptly, just as abrupt as the tears that slid down his face, streaking through smears of blood and dust, leaving him with watery eyes and a reddened nose. he'd accepted death a long time ago, had acknowledged that, one day, he'd be gone, and he'd made peace with that, picturing a heroic death in his forties as he saved some important medical building, or a calm hospital room where he could shut his eyes as an old man and wake up somewhere else. 

he just never pictured 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.

 

[ or : tommy was a hero, help was unbearably far away, and he knew he wouldn't last long with the gaping stab wound in his stomach. so he did the next best thing, and called his brothers, so, at the very least, his last moments wouldn't be spent alone. ]

Work Text:

"shit, shit, shit, shit."

tommy hissed out a breath as he squeezed his eyes shut, biting back a curse. pressing his hands to his stomach, he inhaled shakily, a wince tearing its way from his throat at the agony that burst through his chest. he was really fucked this time, he knew that. there was no denying it, no matter how much he desperately wanted to rise to his feet and make his way home as if nothing had happened, no matter how much he wanted to gently shut the front door behind him and graciously take the cup of tea into his exhausted hands, the one that phil would always be waiting with, sending him a thankful smile under the dimmed lights. 

but it was far too late for that, because, with a terrified glance towards the watch strapped to his bony wrist, help was just under ten minutes away, and tommy's hands, slick with blood, couldn't hold any pressure to the gaping wound, not when he was already so faint, the bricks of the alleyway spinning in a half-blurred, irregular pattern that made his brain ache. everything kept spinning, and, no matter how hard he screwed his eyes shut, he couldn't stop the motion sickness turning his stomach.

in an attempt to inhale, he felt his mouth fill with blood, dribbling from his lips and down his chin.

"fuck," he choked on a sob, throat burning as the words left his red-filled mouth, keeping his eyes closed and trying to ignore the sound of his blood on the pavement beneath him in a last-ditch attempt to fool himself that he was fine, that he could still go back home into his brothers arms and listen as they thanked him for coming home and keeping himself safe on patrol as he rested his head against their chests. 

there was no getting out of this one.

this would always be inevitable, he knew that. since the day he'd signed the contract agreeing to work with the heroes, agreeing to all of the dangers and cautions for just a chance to help people, just a shot at helping the city that had given him so much, he knew it would've happened eventually. it was in the fine print. ever since he'd left his signature at the bottom of that page and accepted his folded hero suit with shaky hands and an even shakier grin, he had also signed up to a life of risk, and an early death.

he just never thought soon would be soon.

clenching his eyes shut, he gritted his teeth as his breath hitched, lifting a trembling hand from his stomach and digging in his pockets frantically, letting out a sigh of relief as he pulled his phone out. the glass screen was already streaked with blood, slick with crimson that pooled across the monitor, but tommy knew he didn't have long enough left to care about useless shit like a dirty phone screen.

tommy was eighteen, bleeding to death in some shitty alleyway, shivering and alone.

the realisation struck abruptly, just as abrupt as the tears that slid down his face, streaking through smears of blood and dust, leaving him with watery eyes and a reddened nose. he'd accepted death a long time ago, had acknowledged that, one day, he'd be gone, and he'd made peace with that, picturing a heroic death in his forties as he saved a government building, or a calm hospital room where he could shut his eyes as an old man and wake up somewhere else. 

he just never pictured this.

tommy was eighteen, and he was dying, but he refused to die alone.

he'd been so safe, he always had. as much as he wanted to be reckless, to take unnecessary risks for the sake of being regarded as a better hero, he always thought back to his family, who would wait up every night for him to walk through the door, who would always make him swear to put his life first, to never get himself into anything he couldn't get out of, and tommy always remained careful. 

a bitter laugh tore from his throat.

careful hadn't gotten him anywhere.

in fact, careful had gotten him bleeding out in some dodgy alleyway from a gaping stab wound as he sobbed over the realisation that he'd never see his family again.

("tommy?"

he jolted, hand freezing above the doorknob, shoulders hitched up to his ears. slowly turning around, he came face-to-face with his dad, wincing at the confusion in phil's soft eyes. 

"i didn't know you were patrolling tonight," phil spoke slowly, eyes narrowed in suspicion, "it's not on your schedule. are you going out now?"

tommy swallowed thickly. bills had gotten hard. he wasn't meant to know that, but the walls were thin, and he'd listened to far too many phone calls to electric companies, water companies and god knows what else that had always ended in hearing his dad crying in the kitchen. "oh, they changed it yesterday, i must've forgotten to tell you, sorry, phil," his words were accentuated with a smile, silently praying it was convincing enough.

he was doing overtime.

legally, he wasn't allowed to do that until he was a senior hero, but he'd all but begged the captain, puffy, to just let him, swearing to her that he'd be safe, pleading for her to just allow it once, blurting out that he needed the money. given he'd made such quick progress, she had given in after a long stretch of listening to tommy stumble over his words, desperate to help out his family. techno and wilbur had gone off to university, and phil was struggling to stretch their funds to cover it, despite how much they both insisted they could pay it off themselves, but all tommy wanted to do was help.

phil let out a worried sigh, reaching forwards and smoothing back tommy's hair, brushing the curls away from his eyes, "if you insist," no matter how hard he tried, his tone betrayed him, disbelief sitting heavily in his voice. "just... please be safe, tom, alright?"

"i always am."

he levelled him with a stern stare, and, though he was considerably shorter, less built, and had a face full of soft, kind features, tommy was convinced that stare could make governments tremble. "tom," he huffed, unable to stop his lips quirking up in amusement, "be safe. alright?"

tommy sent him a gentle smile, chest warmed, "alright, dad.")

fuck.

tommy was eighteen, and his hands trembled as he typed in his password, blood-stained fingers shaking uncontrollably, screen smeared with so much red that it was barely visible.

letting out a shaky sob, he fumbled his way onto his call list, pressing the one at the top, the very last one he'd called. he could barely remember who it was, or why he'd called them, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. he didn't get a chance to say goodbye, he needed to say goodbye. he'd sworn to protect his city, and he'd failed. he needed to make sure they knew how sorry he was, even if it was due to no fault of his own, but a shitty up-and-coming villain who'd gotten a cheap shot.

the ringing echoed through the alleyway, and he could've sworn it was music to his ears. all he could hear was his pulsing heartbeat, racing and slowing sporadically, and his own hoarse voice, so hearing something new was so much of a relief that he almost forgot about the agony, if only for a moment.

"toms? it's three in the morning, are you alright?"

it was a good job tommy had one hand free, because he couldn't stop the sob that tore its way out of his throat as the sound of his oldest brother's raspy, sleep-stricken voice. he slammed a hand over his mouth, choking down the wail as he desperately heaved to try and regain some sense of normality in his tone, in a feeble attempt at sounding something akin to normal. still, the pain striking through his stomach was only getting worse, and he couldn't keep the tremble from his voice, lower lip wobbling as another bead of blood dribbled down his chin.

"tommy? are you alright? do i need to get phil?" 

"no! no, no, i'm- i'm fine, wil," he promised weakly, flickering his glance to the gaping wound slashed through his torso that was only getting increasingly worse, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to block out the fact that he was sitting in a pool of his own blood, one that was only growing. "it's just- i just wanted to talk," he hated the way that, no matter how hard he tried, and god, did he try, he couldn't keep the tightness from his tone. there was no way wilbur couldn't hear the fact that he'd been crying.

there was a slight pause, closely followed by the sound of bedsheets ruffling and a gentle click of a lamp, "are you sure? it's really late, tom, and you don't sound alright."

"wil," he rasped, breath catching in his throat as another wave of pain struck through his chest, eyes squeezed so tightly shut that white spots seemed to dance through his dark vision, "please.

for a moment, it was silent, and tommy was terrified that wilbur would hang up, that he'd just call phil and tell him to sort tommy out because he was exhausted from university and desperately needed his sleep. the reminder that he was interrupting his brothers' rest made guilt pool in his stomach, but it only took another shock of agony striking his torso for him to remember that he had no choice, that this was the last conversation he'd ever have, and he wanted nothing more than to spend it with his brothers.

"alright," wilbur caved, voice soft and fond as it always seemed to be when it came to tommy. "i'm just going to get techno up, so you can speak to both of us, yeah?"

tommy could only let out a hum that seemed to blur moreso into a pained whine.

"techno," the whisper from the other end of the line could barely be heard, but it was followed by the sound of light footsteps, the phone being set down, and more rustling. tommy could almost picture their dorm room, the same one he'd visited only last week, with the two twin beds and the lamp with a bulb that they'd replaced seven times already. he could almost imagine wilbur awkwardly peering over the side of technos bed, trying to shake him awake, a task that tommy knew was almost impossible, given that through all of his teenage years, he'd woken techno up with a glass of water to the face. "techno, tommy's on the phone."

surprisingly, there was almost an immediate response, "what?" ignoring the fact that his voice was tinged with exhaustion, hoarse from sleep, it made a sorrowful smile rest on tommys face knowing how much they cared. "is he alright? he's not hurt, is he?"

tommy sent another glance towards the open wound on his torso, snapping his mouth shut with a click as nausea latched onto his stomach. it was already bad enough that he was having to spend his last moments in a pool of his own blood in a shitty alleyway at eighteen, he refused to vomit on himself too. flickering his eyes to his watch, he saw that help was still five minutes away, and an alert had popped up on the bottom to report that the highway was full of severe traffic, and that there would probably be delays for the rescue time.

"no, no, he's not hurt," the irony of the sincerity in his eldest brothers' voice against the furiously bleeding gash was not lost on tommy. "he just... wants to call," wilbur sounded unconvinced, but it was good enough for him. 

there was a lot that tommy was okay with.

he'd never been bad with gore, never been squeamish or anything, except when it came to himself. he was fine with both seeing and getting involved with violence, something he'd gotten far too used to as a hero. he'd seen hostage situation after hostage situation, and grieving families wailing over the graves of those that the villains had stolen the lives of, and had watched numerous people's last moments, the ones he'd failed to save. 

one thing that he refused to ever do was die alone.

he was desensitised to a lot, but he was eighteen. he was still clinging onto his childhood, fuck, he was still a kid.

"hey, tommy," techno spoke through the phone, the audio crackling awkwardly as if they had him on speaker phone. he still sounded tired, voice rasped with sleep, but it was a miracle he'd even woken up that quickly, so tommy elected to simply ignore it. "what do you think you're doing up so late? what happened to that fancy sleep schedule you made me organise last week?" there was no trace of annoyance in his older brother's deep tone, only teasing.

tommy let his head tip backwards against the wall, a smile tugging at his blood-stained lips. "that schedule was bullshit, and you know that," he retorted, a weak chuckle falling from his mouth. immediately after, he had to clench his teeth as the movement pulled at the dulling ache in his stomach. "netflix is more important, tech."

god, he wished he didn't have to lie. 

he forced himself to pretend that, rather than sitting in a pool of his own blood, he was instead resting on his bed with soft blankets pooled around the legs of his fluffy pyjama pants. he would much rather he was telling the truth, that he was actually watching a blurred netflix screen from across his room, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion as a sleepy smile rested on his face. they couldn't afford things like netflix anymore. they hadn't had netflix in months. he wished more than anything that his lies were true.

"you ruined my perfectly designed schedule for netflix? my degree is for nothing. i'm dropping out," techno retorted, and it warmed tommy's aching chest to hear the grin in his brother's voice, something very few could do. 

letting out a laugh and ignoring the agony that followed, tommy let his eyes fall shut, "do it then, coward. you wont."

"you know he's right," wilbur added on, sounding just as amused as techno did. "i also vouch that netflix is much, much more important than whatever dumb degree you're doing. it's stupid, i'm sure," he insisted. a shrieked laugh and the sound of a pillow smacking against something rang out from the other end, and something in tommy longed to be there with them, to be sat between them as they bickered aimlessly like they used to.

"it's not stupid, it's psychology," techno defended with a snort. "it's a smart person subject, wilbur."

tommy could almost imagine them, sat on the edge of technos bed, half-asleep with tired smiles on their face, phone perched on the nightstand on speaker mode, hair tousled with sleep and pillows clenched defensively in their hands. he could almost imagine himself with them. "don't talk to wilbur about smart things. he wouldn't know smart if it hit him in the face."

there was then the sound of a pillow colliding with something that sounded suspiciously like wilburs face.

he couldn't stop the smile resting on his lips. he found that things didn't hurt as much anymore. the cold was seeping out of his bones, slowly but surely.

"that's not fair! you get to go to the gym, you have an unfair strength advantage! i need tommy on my side, just- climb through the phone or something! balance it out!" wilbur cackled loudly, the sound distorted by the blood seeping into his phone speakers. 

tommy only listened as techno retorted, "you'd also get to go to the gym if you hadn't broken half the equipment. not my fault you're banned!" 

the conversation was so normal and homely that he could barely feel the aching anymore, only numbly sense the blood still dripping from the wound. it felt so familiar, so much like home, that tommy could almost pretend things were okay. 

"listen, that was an accident, and you know it! i'm clumsy, they should've accounted for that when they left the equipment in the middle of the pathway, alright? it's not my fault that i'm banned either!" wilbur huffed dramatically, and, although he could only hear his voice, tommy was almost certain that his arms were crossed and his eyes were doing that thing where they squished up defensively, in a manner that was almost like a squint. 

"or, maybe, they just thought no one smart enough to get into university is also stupid enough to not look where they're going?" 

on the other end, the sounds of a scuffle and loud, half-asleep laughter rang out, but tommy couldn't quite focus on it, not when everything seemed to spin, dizziness taking over abruptly. his grip on his phone went slack, the smeared blood making it slide from his hand and onto his lap as his arms fell to his sides.

"you're the worst!" his shitty phone barely picked up techno's cackled shout, or the following 'ha!' from wilbur, and it almost didn't reach his ears.

still, tommy was more focused on the way that his skin seemed to prickle with numbness, unable to keep his eyes open as his lips parted unconsciously, more mingled blood and spit drooling from his blue-tinted lips. 

he'd been so cold earlier. so, so unbearably cold.

tommy could barely feel the cold anymore, and he couldn't feel the pain at all. the phone in his lap was the one thing he was vaguely aware of, listening absent-mindedly as his brothers bickered aimlessly. 

"i love you guys so much," he muttered weakly, words half-slurred together, and he didn't even register the way their voices abruptly stopped on the other end. tommy could feel nothing but relief that the agony that had wrecked him was gone, relief that the cold was finally, finally going. "tell dad i'm sorry."

their shouts on the other line went unnoticed as he let his eyes fall shut.

he'd sworn to protect the city, and he'd failed.

as his hands twitched at his side and his head lolled against his shoulder, he could only hope that the people of the city forgave him, that captain puffy forgave him for not keeping himself safe like he'd promised, that his family forgave him for the countless things he'd let them down on.

tommy was nothing if not sorry.