Monday

"Mr. Ratliff, do you know what might've caused you to pass out in the middle of the hallway?" The school nurse, Lynn-something-or-other, asks him as she sits down in a chair across from him. He's laying down on one of the school's rather uncomfortable cots with a thin blanket draped over him, his head on a soft pillow. Tommy blinks a few times, trying to adjust to the light, but it doesn't seem to be working. He drapes his arm over his eyes and he sighs. He just woke up. How long has he been here?

"Um… my head hurt, and I was dizzy," he says softly, his throat dry. He coughs and Lynn stands up to fetch him something to drink. She comes back with a plastic cup in her hand, and he sits up slowly, keeping his eyes mostly closed. No wanting to blind himself, see? He takes the cup and drinks greedily, almost whimpering when it's gone. But he knows better than that, and he hands the cup back to her, before laying back down. His head is pounding a little too much for him to be upright for now.

Lynn nods once, folding her hands in her lap. "Tell me, Mr. Ratliff, did you do anything that could have potentially caused harm to your head, recently?" Tommy keeps his arm over his eyes, but a soft breath escapes his lips. He's… Not sure, what happened. It's fuzzy, to be honest. He knows he went to his house on Saturday, he knows he talked to his mom, and then Richard came in… But… It's almost as if it goes from Richard's entrance to Tommy being in the apartment with Adam. He doesn't remember. He frowns to himself. If Richard was involved, then he was either hit or he himself hit his head somewhere…

"Mr. Ratliff?" Lynn says his name again, and Tommy exhales another breath. Partly because he's tired. Partly because he's not going to give Lynn the answer she wants. And finally because he's really tired of her calling him 'Mr. Ratliff'. Seriously. It's ridiculous. He's not his dad. He's Tommy. Get it right, bitch.

"I… I don't remember, I'm sorry." He says. Better just to be honest than try to figure out a lie or something. Right now, he wants two things. To get out of the nurse's office, and to go back to the apartment with Adam. He needs his baby right now. He needs to be in Adam's arms right now, because just the idea of that and he's feeling better.

"Well, Mr. Ratliff—" okay, that's it.

"Tommy, please." He says to her. He knows (yes, he knows) that there's a bitterness to his voice, but, hey, give him some props. At least he's awake right now and answering her stupid questions, when he could still be asleep right now, hopefully getting rid of this goddamn headache of his. Sheesh.

"—Tommy, since I found you lying face down in the hallway, your head seems to be hurting, you're dizzy, sensitive to light, irritable, and you don't remember what might've caused you to suffer all of this, it's blatantly obvious you have a concussion. The seriousness is unknown to me since we don't have the proper equipment to find out. But I strongly recommend that you consult a doctor and get this checked out immediately." Okay, so much for getting rid of his goddamn headache.

A concussion? A concussion? No! He can't! He… If Adam finds out about this, he's so screwed. The reason for that being because he lied. He lied and told Adam that he's fine and that everything was fine. But now here he is, barely remembering Saturday and being told that he has a concussion and should see a doctor. Fuck, Richard! Fuck that douche until he dies!

Tommy sighs, covering his eyes with the heels of his hands. He… This can't be happening. Maybe the nurse misdiagnosed him (after all, they don't have the equipment necessary), and maybe he just has a really, really bad headache. Yeah, he doesn't have a concussion. He needs to get out of here though. He tries to sit up and his head seems to scream. He cringes, and flops back down, hearing Lynn talking but he doesn't understand the words. His head… Fuck, it's like someone just took a red-hot poker and stabbed him with it. Except all over.

"Please, Tommy, you have to be careful. You need to take things slow and not work yourself too much. You could cause even worse damage." Lynn says as Tommy tries to sit up again, much slower this time. He finds that he's able to do it without making his skull split in two. But the world is spinning around him a little. He leans against the wall and takes a few deep breaths, before standing up just as slowly as he sat up. Deep breaths, and he's standing. Lynn's just a few inches taller than he is, and he notices how pretty her brown curls are, but right now he needs out.

"Thank you." He says, starting to walk forward. The door's just a few feet away from him, and his bag is on the floor. Lynn reaches down and grabs it for him. "What time is it?" He asks as his hand closes around the doorknob.

"School's been out for about twenty minutes now." She says. Tommy nods, opening the door and stepping out, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He doesn't get very far, because almost instantly, someone grabs his arm. He turns, seeing a pair of bright blue eyes, and a mane of strawberry blond hair. Adam's pulling him out of the school, and Tommy doesn't realize they're outside until the heat soaks into his skin and the sun blinds him temporarily. Holy shit, that was fast.

They walk slowly for a few moments, silence between them. Tommy knows that Adam's going to ask why he was in the nurse's office. As much as he wants to tell, Tommy isn't sure if he can. But he can't keep lying, either. It's killing him. 'Just tell him the truth. Tell him the nurse says you have a concussion, and that you need to see a doctor. He'll be okay with that.' Except that he wouldn't. He'd ask Tommy about Saturday, and now he can't say nothing happened because Adam will wonder about the cause of the concussion, and then he'll know Tommy lied.

Fucking hell.

Tommy notices though, in their silent walking, that they're heading to their neighborhood, and not Monte's apartment. The idea of being back near his house is a little frightening, but maybe… Maybe he can check in on Allison, and make sure that she's okay. He knows though that if he starts heading to his house, Adam's gonna throw a fit. His baby doesn't want him going back, and Tommy doesn't blame him. But he needs to make sure Allison's okay. He needs to, otherwise he's never going to forgive himself for anything that happens to her.

They're getting closer to their street, and Tommy's heart is pounding as he turns to Adam. "Why are we over here?" The blond asks, and Adam's eyes are hard in the sunlight.

"I need to get a few things. We're not going to be here long." Adam says, as they turn onto their street. What if Richard's there? What if he sees Tommy? There's a list of possibilities where this can go really, really wrong, and Tommy doesn't want Adam to get caught in the middle of it all. "Don't worry, Tommy. If he's home, he's not going to know that you're here with me. I promise you." Adam says, taking Tommy's hand, giving it a warm and gentle squeeze as they pass neighbor after neighbor. Tommy can't hear anything coming from his house as they stand in the driveway of Adam's house.

"Stay right here, I'll be right back, okay? Monte will be here in a few minutes to come get us." Adam says, and Tommy nods. Yes, he'll stay out here and wait for Monte. And while Adam's getting his things, he can run inside, grab Allison, and be back out in time. They'll take her away. Adam presses a kiss to Tommy's mouth before hurrying inside. His skin is flushed, and he has half a mind to stay (like Adam told him to), but he drops his bag and bolts down the sidewalk, cutting through the overgrowing dead lawn and up onto the porch. He opens the door, peering through the darkness. A mane of blonde hair and a limp body on the couch; Allison's asleep there. He doesn't see Richard in sight and he bolts across the room, grabbing his shoulders.

"Mom, Mom!" He hisses at her in whisper. Her eyes flutter open and he sees dark circles under them. God. He doesn't take the time to look her over, because he doesn't have time for that. He starts to pull her to her feet, his heart pounding a little harder in his chest now.

"Mom, we have to go!" He tells her, and she shakes her head.

"No, Thomas, you have to go!" She never calls him Thomas unless it's urgent. Like, so urgent you're-father-is-right-behind-you-and-you-should-probaby-duck-oh-NOW!

And why is it that every time he tries to do something right, it just blows up in his face?

But at "Thomas", the blond shrinks down lower to the floor, avoiding his father's fist. Not that avoiding it is any better, because it catches Allison over the top of her head, and she flops back down onto the couch. Shit, shit, shit! Tommy scrambles to get away, but Richard bends down, grabbing his foot. Fuck! His heart is pounding, his head is screaming and Richard's cutting off the circulation to his foot now. Fantastic.

Why does everything go wrong?

Richard drops his foot, letting his ankle hit the side of the table. Tommy cringes, scrambling to get away. Through the front window, he can see Monte's car, and he can see Adam, looking around furiously before the redhead's eyes land on his house. Fuck, fuck! He hears a grunt and a shuffle of movement, and he looks over his shoulder to see that Allison has somehow jumped onto Richard's back and has her hands wrapped around his throat.

Go, Mom.

"Stop… Hurting… My… Son!" She hisses into his ear as Tommy scrambles a little farther. He needs something, anything to protect himself, to save his mom. He glances around, finding an empty beer bottle. Good enough. He grabs it, crawling to his knees before standing and turning around.

The world seems to explode in a frenzy of passing seconds, and everything moves in slow motion to the blond.

The door slams open and Tommy can see out of the corner of his eye that Adam is standing there with a rather furious expression. But Tommy watches as Richard throws Allison off of him, and she slams onto the table, the plywood breaking under the impact. Her head hit a corner, which means cinderblock. She's limp on the floor, and Adam's screaming at him, but he doesn't hear anything. His eyes are on his dad, burning with hatred and rage.

He lunges forward and slams the bottle onto the top of Richard's head, causing his father to shake and lose his balance. He goes down to the floor. Tommy jumps on him, holding the shattered half of the bottle by the neck and thrusting the edges into Richard's chest. The wounds are deep enough to cause any real, life threatening damage. But Tommy's stabbing him over and over and over, blood soaking into the clothes, and in some instances it's spraying up and hitting the blond himself. But he doesn't care. He's making Richard pay for this. For all of this. For himself. For his mom. For every day that was full of pain and agony and suffering and tears. For every year that was spent wishing to die.

Tommy…

Richard's weakly throwing punches, but Tommy doesn't feel them. His eyes are dark with rage and the need to kill. He brings the bottle up, slicing the skin before cutting across Richard's throat.

Tommy…

Hands reach out and grab at him, though they are not Richard's hands. Fighting, Tommy whips around, watching the edge of the bottle slice deep into a creamy wrist, inches below the palm of a hand that looks so familiar.

Tommy!

He's pulled away from his bleeding father, and out the door. The lawn blurs by at faster than the normal speed of walking, and Tommy's shoved into a car. His head is spinning and he feels like he's going to be sick. He blinks, the edges of his vision going fuzzy. He sees Adam and Monte arguing in the front seats. Adam's reaching for his door, trying to climb out, but Monte is holding him back, telling him things that Tommy can't hear. He only hears the pounding of his heart in his ears, the rush of his blood. He blinks slowly, breathing hard. Tears are running down Adam's face as the ginger looks over the seat at Tommy. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against Tommy's cheek.

Tommy can smell the strong scent of blood. Is it the blood on him though? No… It's coming from Adam… He tries to blink again, but his eyes don't open after.