Your Voice(please, I want to hear it again.) || TOMMYINNIT

The End:

(A/N: Hello! Hope your enjoying this story so far! Anyways, I've made a little playlist for it on Spotify. If anyone's interested, here's the link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7c1lqjvvRUWnB4cg0XIl4z?si=b101dd5cbd6c45a6&pt=9266d20c6ae0fb9637fe4734d7f007a6

Anyway, hope you have a good read!)

~~~~~

Tommy had sat on his chair, his knees propped up to his chest as he stared through the window, seeing his reflection now & then.

The weather outside had been bleak all week & all week— Has it only been a week? Tommy had felt as if only a few days passed by, the illusion of time swinging by as he spent all of his time sitting in his room, doing barely anything to function properly anymore.

It's probably been weeks since he's been outside.

And there behind him sat Wilbur on Tommy's bed, watching the guy ignore him before glancing at the window. Wilbur stared at Tommy's exhausted face. Will couldn't remember when had been the last time he saw Tommy looking so... so defeated.

- How did she feel when you realised that—... that she wasn't there anymore?... - Wilbur asked, trying to start at least some form of small talk.

He had noticed how the only thing Tommy would most likely respond to & talk about was Nana. With other things, well, he gave them the silent treatment.

Tommy looked down at his arms. He could almost see someone else's hand clutch his wrist, just like Nana did back at the hospital, mere moments before her heart would stop beating.

- Cold.

- ...How did you realise that she passed?

- She looked like she had fallen asleep and... I— I couldn't hear... I couldn't hear her heartbeat anymore.

- And how did she look like when you realised that?

Tommy hadn't turned around to face Wilbur when talking like he usually would in the past. Instead, it was now Wilbur who faced him. Wilbur had stood up from Tommy's bed & grabbed a chair from the kitchen, placing it down & sitting in front of Tommy. Wilbur had found his gaze being avoided.

- Tom, look at me.

- Will, I can't jus—

- I said, look at me.

Tommy's eyes had slowly found themselves lingering around the man's face before reaching his eyes, which were set in stone as they stared back at Tommy. 

He struggled to confront Wilbur. Tommy's vision had already begun blurring.

- How did Nana look like when she passed away?

- Sick, cold, pale. How else do you want me to describe it to you?...

- How else did she look like?

Dead.

Wilbur sighed, his eyes shifting towards Tommy's attention-catching eye-bags before looking back at Tommy, who had desperately tried to control his tears.

- Tommy, listen, I'm not here to a fuckin' therapist for you. You need to get out of this fuckin' flat and get some actual help before I drag you out of here myself. - Wilbur calmly spoke as he stood up, gesturing towards the windows.

- I can't, Wilbur. Not when her death hasn't— when it hasn't sunk in yet. I just— I just still can't... I can't believe this.

- Are you even listening to yourself anymore? You're denying Nana's death, Tommy. You can't even say her name anymore.

- I can! I just— I just don't want t—

Tommy had cut himself off from his sentence, finally listening to the words he was saying.

- Don't want to what? Admit that Nana's dead? I don't what to admit it either, but at least I'm not ignoring what's happened.

Tommy stared at the floor, ignoring the tall figure that loomed over him.

- Tom, who even are you anymore? - Wilbur asked, his tone quieting down.

Wilbur had no longer recognised the person sitting in front of him, nor did he think that person knew themselves either.

- Will you at least be going to Nana's funeral then?

The man patiently waited for a response as he turned his back towards Tommy, staring outside the window.

And he waited.

Until he grew impatient.

- No, I won't be going.

- I fucking knew it—

- I'm not going there to see her body dressed in some formal fucking clothes and then shoved into some fucking box. I already have my last memories with her, and they won't be taunted by the people who only showed up because they finally cared once she died. And then what? They just forget and move on like some sick bastards.

Tommy believed that only her family deserved to go there. Nevertheless, Tommy wondered whether her father would show up, knowing he wouldn't want to see the resemblance of his dead wife in his now-dead child.

Wilbur had not responded. Instead, he grabbed that same chair & placed it back into its original spot before heading to sit down on Tommy's bed again.

The answer was enough to satisfy him. If anything, it was probably the lengthiest response Wilbur's received from Tommy ever since Nana's death.

Finally, silence had begun to fill the room along with the still, cold air.

And finally, that same silence had begun eating Tommy alive.

Something about Wilbur continuously speaking had been strangely comforting for Tommy. Though, they now had no conversation topic.

The talk had ended there.

...

- Are... Do the others know anything about her death? - Tommy hesitantly spoke, his voice barely audible enough for Wilbur to hear.

- Well, you going silent for two weeks straight has definitely given people ideas.

- What about Ela? Does she know?

- I learned that Ela's father was informed of everything, but I don't know if he's told Ela what's happened. But I think he's still staying silent since I talked to Ela yesterday, and she said she hasn't even heard of the disease. Though, I didn't mention anything about Nana to her.

Tommy stayed quiet after Wilbur's response. The sorrow he felt had begun shifting into a rotten feeling that consumed his body. Tommy felt like he wanted to throw up.

Grief was a strange thing to Tommy.

He wished he could scream & cry it all out until Tommy would become numb to the situation or at least any negative feelings he'd go through. Perhaps then, he could finally get out of bed to honour her memories & get on with life.

Yet sadly, grief was never as poetic as fiction made it out to be. And sadly, Tommy's memories of Nana had only made him want to forget everything even more. It was becoming hard to believe that he was living in this reality.

Tommy wished he could've seen the signs at least a little sooner. Maybe then, he might've rethought their friendship.

Perhaps then, he would've moved on to other people.

"I'm so sorry."

However, that was not the path that Tommy had chosen.

If Tommy would've been given at least a million lives to live, he still would've chosen those same decisions, that same path that led him to that old hospital.

In another life or... maybe even in this one, he would give everything & anything just to hear Nana's voice instead of his right before she died.

Even if the hiraeth continues to eat him alive, this had always been the path that Tommy would've chosen.