Tommyinnit Oneshots

Little Things Recall Us Back To Earth

Title from Jane Eyre

TW: Swearing 

--

Tommy's therapist showed him a simple diagram she had sketched onto a blank sheet in her notepad.

Escaping unpleasant reality --> pleasant, ideal alternate reality --> daydreaming for hours every day --> withdrawing socially and educationally --> real life becomes more unpleasant --> escaping unpleasant reality

"Do you see the cycle?"

Tommy nodded, sitting back in his chair with a heavy sigh. "I know all this, though. I know it's affecting my social life and performance in school, but it's... it's just so much better. There's nothing for me here, but in here?" He tapped a finger against the side of his head. "I mean something. I contribute, I have friends, I have a family."

Dr. Cook looked at him with something akin to pity, but a deeper understanding that kept Tommy from closing himself off completely - his therapist may pity him, something he loathed, but at least she understood him.

"This is why you're seeing me, Tommy. I can help you structure a plan to get out of your daydreams. If you build up your life here then you don't need to escape, and I'm here to help you along that path, every step of the way. Okay?"

Tommy nodded reluctantly, standing up from the chair as Dr. Cook did as well. "I hope you felt like we got somewhere today. I'm glad you shared with me more reasons behind your daydreaming. I believe I can help you, but you've gotta put in work too, okay?" Once again, he nodded. "Try to check off some things on that list I gave you. It's a great place to start."

Tommy gave her a small smile and left the office, closing the door softly and meeting Dr. Cook's next waiting patient's eyes briefly before looking down at the brown patterned carpet.

Not five minutes into his walk, he felt the tug. The world looked so grey, and he was so cold. His thin jacket reminded him that he barely had enough money to afford a better one as the weather got worse, what with therapy and apartment bills and not to mention daily living expenses. 

The pavement was hard beneath his feet and his thin legs took him to his dingy apartment in his dingy building with dingy neighbors in his dingy neighborhood. Fuck his parents for getting CPS called on them, for making him go through so much work to get emancipated only to be living like this.

The pull happened whenever he felt this hopelessness, this sinking feeling in his chest - the feeling that the future was full of no money, no college, minimum wage, part-time jobs, and more dingy apartments. Kids like him didn't get to be successful; the world simply wasn't built for them.

So he turned to a place where anything was possible, a place where he did mean something.

A greener, more exciting universe was waiting just behind his eyelids, and Dr. Cook's words echoed briefly in his mind. He shook his head and dove in.

---

"Tommy, are you ready?"

He turned around, looking at his room. God, he loved it here. It was spacious, full of nice wooden furniture and pictures of his loved ones, walls plastered with polaroids and posters. It was his favorite place in the world.

"Tommy?"

Tommy turned to his doorway to see an amused Wilbur looking at him. "You ready?"

"Yep, let's go."

Wilbur handed him his favorite, bright red coat and hurried him down the hallway. "Wear good walking shoes."

"Yeah, yeah," Tommy grumbled, secretly glad Wilbur had told him to do so - he had no clue where they were going since he had just arrived, after all.

"Why do I have to go?" He asked with a groan, hoping they were doing something he didn't enjoy and that reaction was accurate to his character.

"I thought you liked apple-picking?" Wilbur said confusedly, peeking his head around the doorframe. 

Tommy's eyes widened, and he tried to keep the surprised smile off his face. "I love apple-picking!"

"Then stop whining and get your butt moving," Wilbur replied in a matching tone, eyebrows comically high. When Tommy sent him a glare, Wilbur's cheeks just stretched in a shit-eating grin.