Chapter Text
Tommy doesn’t really know when it started or how it’s going to end, and he doesn’t really care to find out. It all started because of a bat, or so he was told. The world shut down, and more so, big cities shut down. For most of 2020, his family lived out on the acreage that his parents owned, then his mom got sick. COVID is a weird thing; his dad still had to work full-time being a social worker. But because of this, Tommy and his brother were in charge of taking care of their mom while she was ill, and as she just continued to get worse, they were in charge of all the ER trips and doctor appointments.
Tommy couldn’t drive; he was only 13 for God's sake! But Techno was 16, barely having gotten his license as the world shut down, but because he could drive, he was in charge of getting them to and from the appointments. As the months dragged on, she just never seemed to get better. And one day, on a cold December day in 2020, his mom couldn’t fight anymore. She could barely breathe on her own, and she couldn’t eat, and with New Year's days away and Christmas having passed, her body gave up. It was during the few days that Phil, his dad, was able to get off work. Tommy, his brother Techno, and his dad Phil all sat together with his mom as she passed on.
The next few weeks were a blur to Tommy; the new year brought on a funeral and so many expenses that his dad alone couldn’t afford. After the funeral, his dad ended up selling their home and acreage and buying a house in the town where they went to school, a little bit closer to his branch's office, turning his drive to work from 45 minutes to 30 minutes. It was a weird change; the house was much smaller than their old one.
This isn’t the house his parents built together when they were young and dreaming of their future; this is an old house that an old lady, who was going into a care home who just needed to get rid of it. A three-bedroom house for cheap was good, it was cute! Kind of retro, but his dad loves that kind of thing. The old dark cupboards and the green-blue bathroom sink, and bathtub, the old carpets that have been well-loved but also well taken care of. All these things his dad fell in love with, and what’s so bad about getting to redo a new room?
That is where Tommy is today, sitting in his newly red and white striped room with all his posters and things spread out around his room as he picks where to put everything. Though hanging things up is a lot of work, he’s bored; no one can blame him! This week, his dad went back to work, Techno’s… Doing whatever he does? So he texted his friends to see if any of them were busy, and the only one who wasn’t busy was Purp. Or Grayson. So they decided to meet at the town's gas station to grab a Monster, or a Rockstar in Purp’s instance (which are incredibly gross in Tommy’s opinion!) Which is where they are now, walking out with their respective drink, trying to figure out what to do next.
“So, where to?” Purp asks, it’s routine, though they always go to the same place. It could be snowing or raining, and they’d always go to the school park, because that’s the only place to go in this tiny town. “The park, where the hell else?” They both laugh because it’s clockwork; nothing ever seems to change anymore. For better or for worse. “How’s your mom with coming around?” Tommy asks curiously as they walk the few blocks it is to get to the park from the gas station.
Grayson wasn’t always Grayson, though they’ve been friends since kindergarten. Tommy’s known Grayson was trans since he came out to him in the 6th grade, which was almost three years ago now. During the spring of this year, he came out to his mom and brother; his brother reacted a lot better than his mom did. His brother’s been getting everything right; he was accepting. His mom, on the other hand, is acting like nothing happened, ignoring it to his face. Not exactly ideal.
“She’s still being a dick; she and Luke got into a fight about it last night. They were at each other's throats for hours.”
Grayson sighs heavily. These fights happen a lot. It usually begins with Grayson’s brother correcting their mom and her getting defensive. Her excuse has been that she’s grieving her only daughter, and they need to give her more time. And that usually pisses off Luke, talking about how Grayson isn’t dead, how he’s right there, living and breathing. And then she says that neither of them can understand how she feels. And it just gets worse.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
What else are you supposed to say to that other than sorry? It’s not like there’s anything Tommy can do. On that note, they end up at the park, making their way to the swings. Because that’s what they’ve always done. Everything is like clockwork.
“How’s unpacking going?” Grayson asks, the thing Tommy’s running from. A reminder of all the changes that have happened over the past few months, the boxes piled up that is a permanent reminder of it all. How is it going? “I painted my bedroom last weekend, and I’ve mostly unpacked my clothes.” Going further than just his clothes, putting his posters up, and finding places for his trinkets means that this is permanent; he isn’t ready for that. One day, he’s going to face it; today isn’t that day.
Grayson nods, kicking the snow under the swing, though not making much of an impact because most of it was frozen solid. “Alright then.” He nods, falling into a silence as they feel the chilly late winter air blow past them. He wasn’t quite sure the time, but hours had to have passed because the sun was below the school, so it was probably around 4:30; it would be dark in the next hour. They had both finished their drinks. How do you push this on longer?
Grayson has a curfew during the week; he always has to be back by 5:30 since dinner is at 6 in his house. Tommy used to have a curfew; it was a bit different, but now his dad doesn’t really care about those things; he doesn’t have the energy for it anymore. Tommy used to be able to invite Grayson over for dinner when he needed a break from his family. His dad probably wouldn’t mind if Grayson came over, but they don’t really do dinner anymore; it’s like his world stopped turning the minute his mom passed. They get pizza from the local shop a lot, but more often than not, dinner is ramen or air-fried chicken nuggets.
“I’ve gotta get home soon,” Grayson says with a heavy sigh, eyes locked forward. It’s like there’s this never-ending gloom surrounding both of them. “I know.”
It’s always the same. This rigid repetition is safe; maybe not safe, but it’s a net that can always catch them. This swing set is a permanence they both get to keep, for now, that has to be enough. Soon enough, they both began the walk to their homes; there is one good thing about moving into town: Grayson and Tommy both live like two streets away from each other. So they walk home together in a comfortable silence, shivering only slightly from the wind that’s blowing directly at them, instead of with them like on their walk there.