Whatever improvement his mother exhibited was gone a month later, and despite how carefully he tried to conceal the fact, several members of the church that she'd frequented eventually found out. Even on his best days he wasn't the kind to listen to well wishes, or the constant stream of faith they were trying to pour into his ear, and the fact they were implying that he should admit her to the community hospital only upset him more. Ignoring the subtle way they were trying to edge their way into the house, he stood still and listened with a half ear as they continued to try and persuade him. The longer they talked, the tighter his fingers gripped the side of the door as he physically stopped them from setting foot in the house.
"Thomas, we're only trying to help." The evil look Tommy sent the man caused him to pale, quickly swallowing even as he tried to stand straighter in hopes that even at five foot four inches he could get through to the dark tempered boy in front of him. "Mrs. Conlon, however brief she was, is still a member of our church and we take care of our own."
"Well she ain't part of 'your own', she's my mom. And you can take your prayers and well intended wishes somewhere else, because they ain't helpin'."
"It's not just for those the prayers are intended, there's a lift in spirit when you-"
The door slammed closed, a picture falling off the wall as he stared at the whorls in the wood. He could still hear them, their voices raised to try and continue the conversation he'd decisively cut off. For a moment he was worried that they'd wake her, the temptation to open the door and snarl enough obscenities that they left offended struck him so hard it stole his breath. What did they know? What could they possibly know about watching a mother wither slowly as cancer ate her alive?
Turning away in disgust, he threw himself onto the couch and stared at the page that held nothing more than his name and the date. The date which he'd had to change more times than he'd be willing to admit after marking it wrong again and again. Eyes flicking towards the open text book, he felt rage build in his chest before throwing it across the room, listening as the pages fluttered in soft rebuke. Staring at the awkwardly landed book, he tried swallowing the choking mixture of rage and depression building in his throat.
He hated feeling helpless, hated the fact that no matter what he did, there was actually nothing he could do. Hated the moments of weakness that led him to kneel by her bed, hands clasped, and pray to a god he wasn't even sure existed to just give him a little more time. There was a part of him that howled and raged, despaired against the inevitable in the way only the very young can do. Sure that if they screamed loud enough, let enough tears wash their cheeks, that even fate could be changed. But it was a very small part, one that was drowned out by the almost physical incarnation of his rage and hate that prowled around his heart.
Sleep was no longer even an acquaintance, instead Tommy slipped out in the middle of the night to do odd jobs that didn't pay half as well as he needed them to. He'd finally swallowed back enough bitter denial that he was able to admit that instead of saving up for a hospital, what he should be saving for was a coffin. But this morbid realization brought him no comfort, if anything a chill settled near his bones and he became even more closed off from the few interactions he had outside the house. Coming as close to terms with death as he was able, he still raged. Raged at his father for chasing them away, raged at God for threatening to take her away so soon and seemingly uncaring as to how that would leave a boy in a pseudo-man's body to struggle to adjust. Dragging himself to school every morning was one of the most difficult things he'd ever done. Not because the school work got harder, or because there were bullies that bothered him, but because all he could think about was the fact that he'd left his mother at home alone and she could die before he got out of school.
The only people that didn't lose patience with him, or give him up as a lost cause, were his gym teacher, the lunch ladies who still thought he was a charming boy even if he was more sullen than usual, and Melody. When he snapped at Melody, she blinked, once, twice, and then continued on like he hadn't spoken. Begrudgingly he accepted these rare moments of normalcy, ignoring the part of him that begged for just a few more minutes of what had been so soothing before he'd lost sight of the hope that his mother was somehow going to miraculously get better. It was like having a shock blanket, he knew that it existed but he couldn't fully appreciate it as well as he had before.
Now his hands always ached, and his knuckles were raw and throbbing. Nothing was too small a reason to start swinging, the bulk he'd built up by training to wrestle, and for something to give him some small measure of escape, was put to a more vengeful use. Where he'd had an occasional fight here and there, it became almost a daily ritual. Wake up bleary eyed, see that his mother was still asleep, leave a sandwich on her bedside table, go to school and pretend that any of that still mattered to him because it mattered to her. Even the teachers had wearily accepted it, the sound of someone crying out met with a dull sort of resignation as they sent Tommy and his adversary to the principal's office.
It didn't take long for his mother's failing health to become the center of school gossip, no one had really liked the anti social boy who didn't really fit in a set archetype. By size and gruff manner he could have been a bully, but he didn't stand for it. He could have been a loner, as he was now, but he was congenial enough when you spoke to him. Could even have set himself up as a jock but after a few medal worthy bouts he'd dropped it. So to find out that his mother was apparently dying, and that his father was no where to be seen, they were pleased to finally be able to put him in a category. Charity case.
Not that Tommy noticed often, he was too lost in his own head for that, or even feel the hands that curled along his arms as girls tried to express their sympathies. The only girl he noticed was Melody and that's because she refused to be ignored. If he was seething at his homework, she perched on the desk in front of him and forced him to accept her help getting the answers. Even when he wanted nothing more than to be left alone, she didn't oblige him, instead she forced him to interact, sang silly songs at him until he gruffly told her exactly where she could go even though his lips curled slightly at the edges.
"Tommy?" Blinking at the blurred design of the couch cushions, his brow furrowed. "Jesus, Tommy. It looks like you let the homeless run rampant in here."
"Go away, Mel."
"C'mon, get up." He huffed and jerked out of her grasp when she tried to pull him up. "Oh my God, what is that sm- Is that you?!"
"I mean it, go away."
"Yeah? Okay, that's fair."
He wasn't ready for the cool mist that landed on the back of his neck, or the sudden assault of rancid spring flowers that assaulted his nose. Tommy came up swinging, gagging on the air freshener that she'd sprayed him with, eyes narrowing at her as she stared back at him nonplussed. Before he could come up with a scathing remark that wasn't a low growl, she sprayed his chest and lower as she wrinkled her nose. Flickering between dumbfounded and furious, he jumped over the couch to chase her, hurdling over the steps that led into the backyard and slowly gaining. He didn't even really think about what he was doing, his fingers threading through her hair as he made a lunge in an attempt to grab a fistful of her sweater.
"You smell like a compost heap, Tommy. You need to shower."
"No one fuckin' asked you, did they? I know I fuckin' didn't!" With a snarl he dove forward and tackled her to the ground just as she was turning her head to look over her shoulder at him. Glaring down at her, he wrestled the can out of her grip and threw it. "Leave me the hell alone, you hear me? Just leave me alone."
"No!"
Part of him had been expecting that, even hoping for it, but all the rage that had been welling up inside him was choking that hopeful voice to little more than a squeak. Letting out a noise of disgust, he pushed himself off her and sent dirty looks to the curious faces that were peering through the window of the house whose yard they'd fallen onto. It took less than a second for the blind to fall, but Melody wasn't willing to give up as easily.
"You can't just lock yourself up in the house!"
"I don't, the door's unlocked." He sneered at her, "Obviously since I got some crazy girl macin' me with air freshener."
"You know what I m- Stop walking away from me or I'm going to beat the hell out of you!"
"Like to see you try."
The air was knocked out of him when he hit the ground, the feel of her laying along his back and the wetness that soaked the collar of his shirt would have left him unable to talk anyway. He didn't want to feel anything other than the rage and self pity, and guilt, though not the particular flavor that was making him feel like he was in the wrong. Flinching as her fists started pounding at his back, he squirmed trying to get out from beneath her, the ones managing to hit the back of his head sending waves of nausea through him before he finally managed to buck her off his back.
The wild right hook that caught him on the jaw surprised him, his fingers wrapping around her wrists and cuffing them as he straddled her body to hold her down. When her teeth sank into the side of his hand, he swallowed a yelp and stretched her arms above her head, staring down at her in disbelief as the mark throbbed. Ten minutes later she finally stopped throwing herself upwards in an attempt to break loose, her breath coming in soft pants.
"What the hell was that?" When she didn't answer, he cautiously started to let go only to have punch graze his throat. "Fuckin' stop it!"
"You stop it!" Surprised by the venom in her voice, he almost lost his hold on her when she started struggling again. "You think it's easy watching my best friend turn into some kind of zombie and not talk? I get your mom is sick but-"
"No! You don't get it! She's not sick, she's dying!"
Melody's eyes widened, her mouth falling open slightly as she tried to think of something, anything, that she could say and coming up blank. She'd had her suspicions, especially after the few visits she'd had with his mother and seeing the ghastly cast to her skin. His mother had even hinted at Tommy needing her friendship soon though she'd just assumed she was hinting at the dark moods that sometimes over came him. Hearing that his mother was dying made her feel foolish, she'd never had to deal with death, other than pets or seeing it on the news, and selfish, because all she wanted was her friend back and it felt like she was losing him with no idea how to win the uphill battle.
"What of?" Her voice was quiet, soothing, though it seemed only to make it worse, his fingers tightening around her wrists. "That bad?"
"It's cancer or somethin'," the words were hollow, his eyes even more so as he moved back to crouch on her thighs. Scrubbing his face with his hands, Tommy let out a humorless huff of laughter. "You know she still tries to tell me that God is goin' to make it better? That if she prays hard enough he'll be merciful or some shit. I can't believe that, it's-"
"It's all she has left Tommy, you can't just take that away from her."
It wasn't until he'd moved off of her that either of them realized it was raining, his bulk had kept the worst of it off of her, and he was too lost to care that he was half soaked to the bone. He didn't even offer her a hand up, just stood and started walking back to the house, his eyes as unseeing as though he were blind. When he got to the house he couldn't seem to work the knob, his chilled fingers slipping off the metal until Tommy gave up and stared at it like it was a foreign object he'd never seen. The wind picked up, rain slashing against his side and back, but he couldn't seem to care. It had hurt so much more to say it out loud.
Arms wrapped around his middle, and he stared at them too, everything seemed foreign, wrong, out of place. The cheek that pressed against his back was warm, and while he craved it, he wanted to escape it in the same breath. He didn't want to feel warm anymore, but he couldn't make himself push the heat away, his fingers brushing over the bones in the wrist as he choked back a sob.
"She can't die. Mom's aren't supposed to die, they're supposed to nag you and take care of you and just-"
"It's okay, Tommy."
"It's not okay!" He heard the pained whimper with a half ear, his hand gripping her wrist and throwing her against the door to glare. There was nothing okay about this, none of it. "Do you know she's got these pills? I get them from that asshole behind the school, and they're supposed to make it hurt less. Supposed to, but they don't. Not anymore. She asks for them and I have to keep uppin' the dose just to take off the edge, but I don't think they're even doing that!"
"What do you want me to do, Tommy? I'll help if you let me."
"Yeah? What're you goin' to do? Sing her some pretty songs and maybe that'll be the cure that no one else found?" Scoffing, he sneered at her. "Maybe, if you sing about rainbows, and God reachin' down, he just might! Why don't you go ahead and fuckin' try that."
"It might make her feel better! What's the harm in wanting to take her mind off the bad things with some good? You could do with a dose of something good, Tommy Conlon, all you're thinking about is what could go wrong."
"Are you fuckin' kidding me? What, I'm supposed to forget my mom is dyin' and try out for football? Study real hard so I can get into a good school after I graduate? None of that fuckin' matters."
"I dare you to tell your mom that." She hissed, fighting the urge to try pressing herself through the door to escape the malicious look he shot her. "I bet she'd read you your rights and send you back to school."
"If she'd even wake up."
"She- Oh God, Tommy, I-"
"Don't you dare fuckin' say you're sorry... I don't want to hear that from you, you're the only one who don't treat me like some kind of thing to be pitied." Angrily brushing the tears and rain from his cheeks, he took a shaky breath. "You're a real bitch sometimes, actually. I don't think you understand leavin' a person alone when they don't want to talk to nobody."
"I was going to say 'I'm sure she will.' but at the moment I want to slap you for calling me a bitch. How dare you!" Lips curling into a tentative smile, she lightly shoved at his chest before her air rushed out from her lungs as he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her shoulder. "You can't call me a bitch and then cuddle me, Tommy. It doesn't work like that."
"I'm just so angry all the time and confused and just-" The words were muffled and cut off with a sniffle. "It shouldn't be her, she's a good person!"
"She's very sweet."
"You know she used to sneak me sweets when Pops would get drunk and start yellin' at me for not trainin' hard enough?" A watery laugh accompanied the words. "She'd buy a big bag and hide it where he wouldn't look for it and then give a piece to me and Brendan."
"Brendan's your brother?"
"He was, he was my big brother." Tommy shrugged his shoulders and slowly pulled back far enough to meet Melody's eyes. "I just got my mom, and she's dyin'. How is that fair?"
"That's not true, Tommy, it's not. You've got me." She grinned, brushing at the rivulets of water that were slowly running down from his hair. "Me and my pretty songs about rainbows."
"You start singin' and I'm goin' to shut you up so fast your head will spin." He snorted at her disbelieving look. "I mean it, don't you dare start singin' some bullshit song about rainbows."
"Somewhere, over the rainbo-"
He was right, her head did spin, his fingers gripping her jaw to close her mouth as he pressed his lips against hers. Her hands that had been resting on his collarbone slid over the curve of his traps to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her. It wasn't a gentle kiss, his fingers slowly loosening their grip to smooth his palm down her body to grip her hip, the press half desperate before finally pulling back for air.
"I told you." Tommy aimed for smug, but his voice shook and he couldn't stop himself from sliding his tongue over his lips to taste her and the rain that slicked them. He watched the shocked expression on her face turn to bemusement, and then watched as a familiar gleam of mischief entered her eye.
"You remember that movie Mr. Gallst had us watch, cause he was hungover and he didn't want to deal with a ton of questions?"
"Wh- No? What are you talkin' about?"
"He made us watch that stupid muppet movie, and you were teasing me for singing along with Kermit the Frog?"
"I don't see what that has to-"
He stared at her suspiciously when she started humming, then burst out laughing when he realized what she was doing. The laughter had a hysterical edge to it, and he kissed her again, chasing the funny sensation it caused in his chest that made it easier to breath and harder at the same time.
