Events in this oneshot are over the period of a year and a half, stretched out. Just a little reminder.
"Can you turn this crap off." Leela leaned over and started flicking a switch on her boyfriend's radio. Christmas carols, rap, spanish, crappy pop...There. Leela leaned back in her seat satisfied.
"Really? Artic Monkeys?" Tom smiled over at her and she shrugged. The night air was cold, and the city lights were fastly approaching. Leela gasped and looked over the windshield of their convertible. Lights reflected on the water, bridges lit up simultaneously, and the full moon glittered down on the city of Stilwater.
Leela plopped down in the sit next to Tom and smiled at him, pulling him by the hairs of his neck into a kiss.
"We're here."
"Hey baby, where have you been?" Leela called out to Tom when she heard the front door of their apartment open and close. Tom walked into the living room, looking down and depressed. Leela sat up straighter.
"How did the job interview go?" She set down her half rolled joint and walked over to him. She pressed her forehead to his and grasped his hand. Their eyes held contact until his sparkled, and he was picking her up and spinning.
"I got the job!" He yelled and Leela squealed. They fell into the couch, kissing each other, no boundaries stopping them.
Leela was walking home from picking up groceries when a mask-disguised man pointed a gun at her. She gasped and dropped the bags, her arms going up in defense.
"Give me your fucking wallet." He barked, making it clear he didn't want a fight. and she fished around in her pockets.
"HURRY THE FUCK UP!" He urged her. Leela threw the wallet from her back pocket onto the cement and the man grabbed it, running down the block and turning a corner. Leela bent down on the sidewalk and fished around in the grocery bag, pulling out her real wallet. Tom told her the crime rate was high, but she's been mugged two times in three weeks.
Maybe Stilwater wasn't all Tom cracked it up to be.
Leela dropped her keys in the bowl and turned on the lights. The apartment smelled like booze and nail polish remover. Leela ignored it and sat down on the couch beside her husband, who was shivering.
"I was mugged again today. Fucker ran off with my new wallet. He-...Tom?" Leela narrowed her eyes at Tom. He was pale, and sweaty. Bags under his eyes were extremely prominent.
"Tom? Tom, what the fuck, are you okay?" Leela gently shook his shoulder and his eyes snapped to hers, making her jump.
"Yeah yeah yeah yeah. I'm fine. Just a flu going around the office. It's fine. I'll be better. I'm going to bed." Tom quickly stood up and sped to the bedroom, Leela looking after him with worry.
"Babe? Where's the rent money?" Leela's voice rang throughout the apartment. Tom snapped up from his cereal bowl, his eyes going wide, his mind trying to find an excuse.
"I dunno." He called back. You idiot! Dunce! Freak! She's never going to believe you, you worthless junkie. But that is only because she'll stop you. She'll steal your stash! Cheat on you! Leave you in the dirt.
Tom shook the thoughts from his head. He was really starting to scare himself.
Leela dropped the last box in their new apartment and wiped her brow. Their bank account was draining mysteriously, and they had no other choice than move into a cheaper, grosser apartment.
Tom was hanging out with the neighbors. Leela didn't really like the look of them, they looked like hobo junkies. She and Tom smoked pot, but she never wants to expose her or Tom to anything else. That'd ruin everything.
Tom plopped down on the bed beside the dirty hooker beside him and let out a long huff of air. The hooker sat up and grabbed her bong, loading a new batch of loa dust into the bowl.
"Damn, you want another round already?" Tom asked but she was already leaning in and blowing the smoke in his face, which he sucked in eagerly. Tori wasn't much of a woman, but she understood Tom's habit more than Leela ever could. Because Leela was too fucking clean, man. He needed a chick who could keep up with the times.
Who is he kidding, he loves Leela. Which is why he won't tell her about Tori. Yeah, that seems like a great plan. One wife to love him, and one wife to smoke with him.
Radical.
When Tom got back to the apartment, Leela wasn't staring absentmindedly out the window.
"You alright, babe?" He asked. Leela shrugged and he sat down beside her, drawing her in close.
"Tom, is there anything you want to tell me? Is everything alright? You seem different lately." She looked up into his strung out eyes and frowned.
"Yeah, baby, everything is alright." He kissed her forehead and she nodded, hiding her face in his shirt. Everything was under control.
Leela's baby bump was really starting to show. Tom managed to stop smoking for a while. but the Loa was calling his name. He hid in the bathroom during her pre-baby shower, where her and her friends sit around and eat cocoa truffles while bitching about their husbands. Tom looked up at the ceiling with his swollen red eyes, a dopey smile on his face. A loud knock at the door made him drop his pipe and it smashed on the floor.
"Thomas?" Fuck, it was Shary, Leela's cousin. Tom quickly sweeped up the glass pieces.
"Yeah?" He called back, throwing it in the trash, covering it up with toilet paper and pad wrappers.
"Are you coming out soon? We're watching a movie that Leela said you liked." Shary said through the door.
"Just a minute and I'll be out!" She seemed to accept this answer and walked away from the door. Tom glared regretfully at the trash can that held the remnants of his pipe. Hesitantly, he pulled a needle from his jacket pocket.
"Come to daddy." He whispered, sinking the needle into his arms.
Leela shut the door behind her and hung up her coat. The apartment was dark and smelled dank.
"Tom, are you home? I got you some cold medicine from the st-TOM!" Leela yelled. She had entered the room to see another naked woman on her coach, Tom laying beside her, a needle in his hand.
"Oh, baaaby! You're home!" He sat up and wobbled towards her.
"Who the fuck is that, Tom? How fucking high are you? What the fuck are you high on?" Leela rambled and Tom made an attempt to shush her by lifting an inhaler to her mouth and pressing down. She began coughing and scratching her throat, sinking down onto the coach slowly, her eyes going glasses.
"Relax, baby." He laughed and kissed her forehead. Relax, it's all chill.
Leela woke up the next morning, her head pounding. She looked around the living room and was disheartened to find it empty. Where was Tom? What happened?
She felt a moistness between her legs and she groaned. She must've gotten her period. Leela hobbled to the bathroom, plopping herself down on the toilet and reaching for her tampons. Waiting for her pee flow to stop, Leela read her Dr. Bronner's soap label. It occupied her ti-. Leela stopped, staring at the wall, a terrified expression on her face. She slowly glanced down at her blood soaked panties on the tile floor and let out a miserable wail.
When Leela got home back from the doctors, she was confused to see Tom lounging on the couch, watching cartoons. She glared at him as if he were an unwelcome alien in her home. He flashed her a goofy smile and she sat beside him, a her face blank and clammy, dried tears caked onto her cheeks.
She was sitting next to a monster.
Leela woke up to the sound of Speedy Gonzalez and busy traffic. She hobbled emotionlessly to the kitchen and poured herself a bowl of cereal, staring out the window. A hooker was trying to proposition a suited guy in the streets below.
Leela sighed, pouring the cereal in the sink and shuffling back to her spot on the couch. It had been months since Leela lost her baby, and she hadn't said anything to Tom. Not that he noticed, being high twenty four seven. Any form of income stopped coming in the mail.
Tom was laying on the couch, still and quiet. Leela loomed over him, before letting out a wail and bringing her fist down on his nose. She heard a snap, but no blood rushed out. In fact, all blood seemed drained from his face, his cheekbones sharp enough to cut her. He was pale and clammy and looked like a big old dummy. Leela stared down at him for a few minutes before realizing something was seriously wrong.
She bent down beside his body and pressed her fingers against his neck. There was no pulse. Leela fell backwards, shocked, and her breathing spiked erratically. His phone began buzzing. When it rang for the thirteenth time, Leela finally picked up.
"Thomas Spicker, a transaction of three hundred dollars had been added to your account on behalf of Neil Harris." An automated voice hung up on her, and Leela stared at the phone, dumbfounded. She went to his contacts and found a Neil Harris. Tears sprung to her eyes when she found pictures of herself in their exchanged messages, naked. Tom was selling her body for drugs. How fucking great. More and more pictures were exchanged with other men using his phone. When she came across the twenty third picture, she hucked the phone out the window and grabbed her jacket.
"Watches! I got watches here!"
"Hey, baby, you look tired. Can I wake you up a bit?" A prostitute leaned in close to Leela and she shrunk away. The prostitute got the hint and turned away from her.
A red car pulled up to a bunch of punks. Leela fell to the ground at the first sign of bullets flying. She began running towards the stores ahead, maybe she could find some shelter there. Suddenly the car rushed past her, making her fall back onto the concrete and hit her head. Her vision faded fast, and through the darkness, a single gunshot fired.
"You okay, playa?"