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There's a kind of tired that needs a good night's sleep, and another that needs so much more. For Harry, one became the other. It was ever present like a heavy weight on his shoulders. It was then he knew that this tiredness would wear out his emotions too. If Tom didn't come back, then it would come together with his tired body, and become an ingrained part of his life that wouldn't be lived but survived…endured. He wasn't born for that and neither was Tom. They hadn't come to be on a world of such beauty and abundance to live like this, so drained, so trapped, too thin to cope with life's storms and help others with theirs. Time was meant for dancing, for play, laughter and long evenings of happy chatter. Because that was the medicine they both needed, love, friendship, good times. Harry couldn't think of anything he'd rather spend his last ounces of energy on other than with Tom.
Forcing himself to his hands and knees, he crawled to where Tom lay face down. He caught sight of the dark hair and a flicker of hope sparked in his chest. This was it…This was the moment…
He breathed in and out but air wouldn't enter his lungs. Starved for air, his heart raced at tremendous speeds, and his lungs shallowly rose and fell in time. He knelt there for what felt like an eternity but was actually only five minutes. Satisfaction of security was nothing but a distant memory, and an invisible force crushed him from every possible direction. Each second submerged in fear and anticipation made a permanent mark on his heart.
Slowly, carefully, he reached forward and turned Tom over. What he saw made him gasp and he wondered if it was his vivid imagination and his mind playing tricks or reality. It takes a second or two for the image to sink it, even though it was right there before his eyes, larger than life.
The snake like features were gone…erased…like they'd never been there in the first place. The face was so new but so familiar at the same time. Sharp, high cheek bones, an aquiline nose, soft lips…Tom was gorgeous…He was the most handsome man, he'd ever seen.
But there was something wrong, he could sense it. He touched Tom's face and gasped at how cold he was. He crawled closer to Tom and took his wrist in his hand with trembling fingers, trying to feel his pulse but there was nothing there…
No…No….No…Not again…
He pulled Tom's limp form up into his arms and clutched him to his chest,
"TOM!"
His brain had shut down. He was clammy, and his skin glistened with cold sweat. His eyes were as wide as if someone had come to deliver the fatal blow. Yet what he saw…what was happening…no-one else could ever affected by it as much as he was. He was trapped in his own psychosis. This just had to be a living nightmare, tailor made by his own brain to play on his deepest fears.
He wouldn't believe it…. He just wouldn't believe it…This wasn't happening…Soon, he would wake up in that bed and find Voldemort's naked body wrapped up around his bruised one. He closed his eyes and willed himself to wake up.
Wake up…Wake up… Wake up…
He would gladly accept all the abuse…He would happily take all the pain… But he would not accept this… He couldn't accept this…
"Tom…Please…Wake up… Wake up…"
He gathered Tom closer to his chest and buried his face in his inky black hair,
"WAKE UP! DON'T LEAVE ME LIKE THIS…"
The grief surged with every expelled breath, always reaching higher peaks, never sufficiently soothed by his long stuttering intakes of air. Tears began to spill from his helpless eyes as he desperately wished that this wasn't real. It was like an emptiness in his heart, a shear of nothingness that was somehow taking over and held his soul. It threatened to kill him entirely. It gave him this heavy feeling that was like the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders and there was nothing he could do to get out from under it.
"TOM…TOM…WAKE UP…"
The grief came in waves and threatened to consume him entirely. It was his master, for now. He was at the mercy of its whims and it bit at him with such ferocity he feared it would leave him an empty shell.
He smoothed his fingers over Tom's back and just wept and screamed at the top of his lungs. This was too much. Death was preferable to what he was feeling… Death…He was certain that this pain would be the death of him.
He kissed the top of Tom's head and then spoke softly,
"Come back…Come back to me…There's so much to live for…You and I are meant to be together forever…Please…Come back…"
But there was nothing…No movement…No sound…Not even the slightest tremor….
How could fate do this to him? After everything he'd endured…This couldn't be his destiny. They always said that patience bore sweet fruit. Was this his reward for all the pain, life had dealt him up to his point. Was this his payment?
If it was, then he didn't want it any part of him. He was good with the pain and the torture,
"Tom, please…Wake up…I'm begging you…Don't let Dumbledore take you away from me…"
His cries resonated around the bathroom as he held Tom tight to his chest. But the grief had drained him of the last drops of energy. He had nothing left. Carefully, he laid Tom down and carefully ran his finger over his cheek,
"Tom…"
His tears continued to spill down his cheeks as he leaned over him. Tom wasn't going to come back… He was never coming back…Just that thought was enough to kill him a little inside. Slowly, he pressed his lips to Tom's and whispered against his lips,
"I love you, Tom…I always have…I always will…"