He breathed in softly, he felt in his heart the sudden pump that always came when he spoke of his past. "All my life they've... pushed me around just cos' I'm different". His knotting heart kept twisting. All the voices he had remembered calling him 'different' were to many to make someone feel normal again.
Edward's blind eyes scattered the room. There wasn't a second where they weren't brimming with tears, "How? Why are you different?".
Thomas breathed in and stopped before he could answer.
He couldn't tell Edward, the only one caring for him. Thomas felt the resent and vile abuse he experienced after telling people about what made him 'different'. Could he get used to love? Guilt streamed through him, would it be fair since Edward wouldn't ever see him? Sympathy wouldn't be the best answer.
"Never mind. Look...Look, I... I don't know if you're going to see me again or not. But I do know you have to fight back".
Edward's sightless eyes were full of tears, his lower lashes quickly blinked them away. Swallowing hard he reached his hand out and started to 'pat' the air to find Thomas's knee directly across from his.
Resting his hand there, Thomas looked him in his pale eyes, hoping Edward would see him in return. Knowing better, he took his left hand and placed it on Edward's. Just holding it, he grazed his thumb along Edward's hand just below the knuckle.
Nothing would be said for the rest of the conversation.
Thomas watched over Edward's lifeless body as he rested in the blood covered sheets. The hand in which he held was now covered in red. The voice in which he shared sympathy had now faded. The care that was given to him was now gone. Edward had died, taking his own life. He was the victim that Thomas warned him not to make himself.
Thomas had his back up against the wall, his mind never left the thoughts of Edward. Warm tears slid down his face that made everything blurry. His heart was beating tremendously, he could feel it every time it slowly pumped. A roaring headache emerged and every breath hurt. No words or hits could hurt him now. He was beat. Beaten by the fact that his only hope had died. Only if he had been there in time he could have stopped it. Thomas's dry lips tried to whisper his name, but he couldn't pronounce it without a wave of nostalgia reaching him.
Thomas stared at the blurry tan wall in front of him. It became black when his eyes shut, he tried to imagine Edward but no clear picture came. The words they had shared only echoed in the darkness. He opened his eyes slowly to the wall again. The vision of Edward became clear but when the tears took over, Edward had faded away. In that one moment of hope while brushing his tears away, Thomas stared for Edward in the wall, watching to see if the image would appear.
Through the blurriness of tears, Thomas knew that someone was staring back.