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Tom was ready. He'd made peace with leaving, sure that at least his plan would turn out fine even if he wouldn't be there for the payout.
The thought of leaving Mav behind, of not having the reconciliation
he wanted (but probably didn't deserve) with Bradley, was painful, but Tom wasn't as devastated as he thought he would be. Mav and Bradley would ultimately find their way to each other, and knowing he'd helped made him feel content enough.
Sarah had been with him when the coughing fit hadn't stopped; she had taken him to the hospital and, later, had told Tom she'd tried to reach Mav to no avail—he had already left for the mission. Tom had smiled through the coughing, waving a hand at her to let her know he was okay with it. And he was. He knew Mav was where he was needed most—with their kid.
So, Tom was ready. The last comfort he let himself have as the anesthesia helped him fade away was that, knowing Pete, he wouldn't follow Tom right away.
Only—it seems it's not the end of Tom Kazansky yet. He wakes up again in a hospital bed that, much to his annoyance, has become very familiar. Familiar, too, is the face grinning down at him; Tom has been putting up with it for the better part of thirty years.
It's the best sight he could've woken up to.
"Hello, handsome," Pete whispers. Besides him, Sarah gives him a teary-eyed smile, nodding at the far corner of the room. There, sitting on a chair that's definitely too small for him, is Bradley, arms crossed over his chest and eyes weary as he stares at Tom.
After sitting up and a good couple of sips from the cup Sarah shoves at him, Tom clears his throat and looks at Bradley, beckoning him with a finger, and suddenly Bradley is sixteen again, rolling his eyes and huffing as if following Tom's orders is the most annoying thing in the world.
Tom doesn't tear up, but it's a close thing.
When Bradley is finally at his bedside, he grabs his wrist and squeezes it firmly, answering the kid's reluctant smile with one of his own. He glances at Pete before turning his gaze back to Bradley. "You both look like shit," Tom rasps out and wheezes a laugh when Mav and Sarah do the same, Bradley's indignant intake of breath shortly turning into an incredulous chuckle.
"Glad to see you too, old man."
His throat still feels too tender, so he signs. Can't get rid of me that easily, baby goose.
Bradley's smile turns sad for a brief moment at the old nickname before he looks between Tom and Pete. "I guess not."
Visiting hours end too soon, and suddenly Tom is alone and exhausted, but as sleep starts to claim him, the thought that for the first time in his life he's glad he was wrong makes him smile.