Tuesday

His eyes flutter open, and he finds himself in a familiar setting. Plain walls with light streaming in. He has to assume it's morning or early afternoon, right now. He blinks a few times, feeling a dull ache in the back of his head. He shifts slightly, wincing a little as a jolt shoots from his ankle and up his leg. A flash and he sees his house and his father in the back of his mind. Oh, yeah. He turns his head and sees Adam, though he already knew the ginger would be there. Arms are around him (that was his giveaway). He looks closer, seeing dark circles of exhaustion and worry under Adam's eyes, and he frowns.

He reaches up, his fingers brushing against Adam's cheek. The ginger doesn't stir, he's sound asleep. Tommy smiles slightly. This feels like déjà vu, but all the same, it's not. It's a new day. Another day. He leans over and presses a kiss to the corner of Adam's mouth, relishing in the warmth of his baby's skin. Adam's mouth is smooth too, which entices Tommy to kiss him again, and again until those once-still lips are meshing back, and Adam's wide awake. The ginger slowly runs his fingers through Tommy's hair, pulling the smaller blond closer. A soft moan comes from Tommy's lips and into Adam's mouth.

Adam traces his tongue along the curve of Tommy's lower lip, asking for an entrance that the blond is more than willing to give. Adam tastes just as Tommy always knows he will; sweet and mysterious. The ginger shifts, half straddling Tommy's waist, his hands sliding up under the blonde's shirt. His back arches up into the touch as Adam's fingers brush against his nipples, a soft moan erupting from his chest. Adam slides over, completely covering the blond as his lips suck sweetly along Tommy's neck. The smaller male shivers, arching up into the touches and the kisses. His skin is warm and he's beginning to shake. He's never felt this before…

There's a knock at the door that causes Adam to stop, and the blond turns his head to glance, somewhat annoyed. "Hey, guys, you up?" It's Monte, and his voice sounds strained. Tommy frowns, looking up at Adam. The ginger is just as confused. They shift, sliding off of the bed and fixing their clothes a little before heading to the door. Adam pulls it open, and Monte's face betrays that there's some serious bad news. The older male nods toward the front room, and the three of them walk down the hall, before Adam and Tommy sit side-by-side on the couch, Monte's in a small chair near them.

"What's up?" Adam asks as Tommy leans over, his hands in his lap. He'd like to know the answer as well, but judging by Monte's behavior, he's not entirely sure that he wants to know. But all the same, he does. Monte's face is pale and he looks uneasy, his hands are on his knees. The male takes a deep breath before looking up at them.

"I got a call from Leila and Eber earlier this morning," Monte begins. Tommy frowns. He recalls the name Eber, but Leila— oh, wait. They must be Adam's parents. That's right, he remembers meeting them once. "The police were at your house late last night, Tommy. An ambulance came and took away two bodies. Both bagged." Tommy's heart is beating harder now. What does that mean that they were both bagged…? Well, he could care less about one of those bodies, but what of the other… What does this mean?

Tommy looks over at the older male sitting in the armchair. His expression is confused, and his heart is pounding just a little harder than it was a moment ago. Bagged…? But… No. That can't be right. Bagged usually means they're… No. They're not. They're just not. Well, one of them can be, but the other can't. It's… It's not true, it's not happening right now.

"Both your mom and dad are dead, Tommy." Monte says after a moment. Tommy is sure that he feels his heart rip in half and act like it has a split personality. One part of his heart is leaping with joy up into his throat. His dad is dead, is fucking dad is dead. He doesn't have to go home and suffer anymore. He doesn't have to lie anymore. He doesn't have to worry anymore. He's free… He's finally fucking free.

The other; agony. Rage. Anguish. Allison? Allison is dead? What…? That's— that's not right. She can't be gone. That's just not… That's not fair! Tommy doesn't realize he's shaking until Adam puts an arm around him to calm him down, and he can feel himself rattling beside the ginger. His jaw is clenched and he's squeezing his hands together, unbelieving. Allison? No. Not…

It couldn't have been anyone else. It had to be Allison. She had to… No. Tommy drops his head into his hands, shaking like a leaf in a wind. No, it's not fair! Of all the people who had to die, Allison… His mother, his mother. The only family he cared for. Tears streamed down his face as Adam pulled him into a hug. Monte's head hung low, guilty for being the bearer of bad news. No… Not Allison. Not his mother. Of all people, of all times… No…

She's not dead. She can't be.

"Tommy, shh, it's gonna be okay, baby." Adam whispers, but Tommy shakes his head side to side. It's not going to be okay. How can Adam say that it will? How can he when Tommy knows that it won't! Monte just said that his mother is dead! He bites down on his bottom lip, pulling himself out of Adam's arms and standing up. He needs to see for himself. He needs to see her… She can't be dead.

"Tommy, where are you going?" Monte asks as Tommy shoves his feet into his shoes. The tears are still coming, but he doesn't care about them anymore. He needs to go.

"Tommy!" Adam says, his voice a little louder than Monte's. Tommy stops for a second, five feet from the door.

"I need to see her." He says, walking forward again, his hand gripping the door knob. He begins to turn it when Adam's left hand lashes out, holding the door. The right hand grabs Tommy's shoulder, and the blond turns, first staring into Adam's eyes and then he notices the gauze wrapped around the right wrist of the ginger. He frowns as Adam pulls him away from the door.

"Tommy, you can't." Adam whispers. The blond tries to pull out of Adam's grip, but he can't; Adam's a lot stronger than he remembers. And this, in and of itself, frustrates the blond. "Tommy, she's not at the house anymore. The police took her away, she's dead." Adam tells him this, and he knows that his baby isn't lying in the slightest.

But he doesn't want to believe it.

"No!" Tommy shouts, fighting to break out of Adam's embrace, but the ginger holds him tight. Tommy bucks, thrashing and trying to break free. Adam's so, so strong though, and he pulls Tommy back to the couch like he's not even fighting, like there's no resistance at all. Adam sits him back down on the couch, holding him there. "Let me go!"

"Tommy, you have to stay calm!" Monte says, crossing over and kneeling beside him. Tommy shoves against Adam, but doesn't move far. Monte's now gripping his shoulder, holding him to the couch. Why can't they understand that he needs to see his mother! He has to. He has to see her. She has to be alive. She's not dead, she's… She's fine, she's alive. He knows that she is… And fuck his head is really, really hurting right now. Like a serious bitch on a bitch boat.

He stops fighting. The wave of dizziness crosses over him and he grabs onto Adam to keep from falling over. The ginger holds him steadily for a moment before laying him against the arm of the couch. Breathing hard, both from struggle and the ache of his head, Tommy blinks several times, his vision getting fuzzy. Adam's fingers are light, soft against his skin, brushing his hair out of his face. But nothing's get better. If anything, the touches are making his head hurt a little more every time.

"Baby?" The voice is distant, but he knows it's Adam. He's got his eyes closed tightly, and he's barely aware that he's whimpering. Fuck… His head is hurting so badly. His thoughts are a mess and he just wants to curl into a ball and sleep for right now. Just… Sleep. Sleep off this nightmare.

Allison is dead. And there's nothing he can do about it. His mind is flashing images… How he watched his father throw her like a rag doll onto the table. He's seeing it on repeat, the way her head slams into the corner of that table, bouncing like a rubber ball before she's limp. It's going over and over in his head and there's nothing he can do about the guilt and the pain he's feeling right now. He feels the light pressure of fingers on his face and in his hair. He mumbles something about the shower, but he's not sure exactly what he says.

He's moved, he knows, towards the bathroom, despite his eyes being closed. Adam tells him that he'll be at the door in case he needs anything— or something like that, anyway. He opens his eyes, blinking and wincing at the light. It's hurting his head and he strips. He needs to be in the shower right now. He needs to clean himself off, try to ignore this aching in his head and in his chest.

He stands naked in the bathroom as he turns on the water; hot. Hot is good. He steps in, shivering and relishing the heat rushing over his skin, and he leans against the shower wall. The aching in his head isn't going away, but for the moment it's not getting any worse either, so he's not complaining right now. He just… He wants to punch something… A wall, a mirror…

Allison… His mother, his mother… Is dead. She's dead. She's gone. Not coming back. Nothing he can do to change the order of the universe, alter the events that have happened. He can't. It's impossible. And no matter how much he does not want to believe it, he knows he has to. His mind is telling him that she's really still alive, but his heart is shattering to pieces. He lost her to his fuck of a father, when he had so vigorously sworn to himself and to God that he would keep her and Adam safe.

Adam… His baby… His baby got hurt. He saw the bandage around Adam's wrist. He knows. He doesn't quite remember how, but he knows that Adam got hurt. He bites down on his bottom lip, tears beginning to form and stream down his face as the heat splashes against his bruises, soothing them. His head is just out of the stream of water, but it's hitting his shoulder and the side of his neck, running down his body in thin rivers. It's nice.

But nice isn't the way he's feeling. He's feeling like shit. His father's gone, thank God, halle-fucking-lujah. But Allison. His knees shake a little, and he palms the wall, trying to keep himself balanced. He has to stay upright. But his head is hurting, swimming and making him dizzy. He opens his eyes, hoping to keep himself stable. However, looking around at the splashes of water on the wall makes him dizzier. He moans softly, clawing at the wall. Except that it's slick from the water. There's no hold, and he finds himself falling.

Tommy's vision darkens and he's almost out, so he doesn't feel his head hitting the wall. Not that it matters anyway. How many times has he hit his head, or had his heat hit? Doesn't matter… It's dark, warm and safe now… But he feels himself shaking. He hears someone… And then nothing.