Silence makes me safe.(tommyinnit adoption au)

||7|| Normal.

Tommy's pov:

I'm use to this. I guess gray has made me use to this, I grab bandages and patch up Wilbur, who stares at me in shock, and bewilderment, I wouldn't blame him, though I don't appreciate the staring.

I desire to ignore it, and continue doing what I'm doing,
My body moves out of habit, wrapping the bandages tight around the bloody arms of Wilbur, Wilbur's eyes followed my every move.

I sigh, feeling the weight of the knife in my pocket, I'm so done with dealing with everything.

After Wilbur was patched up, I just started to clean the blood up.
"Tommy, speak." Wilbur demanded for a fourth time.
I turn to glare at him.
He looks shocked again and just walks out of the bathroom.
This whole this has totally ruined the mood. I don't wanna do anything anymore I just feel numb.
I will back to "my" room and lay myself on the ground.

Tommy 3rd person pov:

Why is he able to help others and not himself? And whenever he tried to, he found himself stuck in a cycle again.
Manipulation and physical strain and torture were the orphanages favorite ways to mold him into a kid that everybody "loved."
But Tommy didn't love himself. He knew that for sure.
He'd lost himself in this endless routine of abuse, work, school, and panic attacks.
The only place he felt free was in the sky, above the clouds, where the air was so thin he could barely breathe, where he couldn't see the ground, where he could stretch his wings to their full length and soar freely, letting himself glide wherever the wind took him.

But at the end of the day he was always dragged back to whatever home he was staying in at the time, focusing him to stay trapped.

His biggest secret was the time he tried to fall from the sky.
The time he flew himself so high up, up above the clouds, next to the stars, and had the thought that in a moment he'd be a star too, resting peacefully in the sky for people to gaze at on clear nights.
But a foot from the ground he'd instinctively sprung out his wings and landed on his feet. His body was buzzing with adrenaline.
In that moment in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere he felt nothing.
So he went back, showered, and slept like nothing had happened. He couldn't leave bed for a full week after that fail.
He basically fell off the face of the earth for seven days.
The funny part about it all id that no one noticed, he had just sat there, not even Grayson texted to make sure he was ok.
No one loved him, no one cared.

Thr foster system treated him like shit.
Raised him like shit.
And he was over it.
He was tired of it.
His act was so utterly convincing because it wasnt an act.
It was the truth.
Tommy simply had stopped talking because hr was never heard, and when he was it was used to harm him.
Tommy looked up at the ceiling,  He felt scared of his own body.
He hated himself, he really hated himself.
He was nearly choking.
His thoughts were racing to terrible places. The places that were always idling in the sides of his mind, but he tried not to think about even though he constantly felt it.
No one's life would be changed if he weren't there. He wasn't special to anyone.

He was an unnecessary piece in the puzzle.
An excessive step in a well thought out plan. Just waiting for someone to cut him out again and then scoop him up and morph him into something else he thought could be good for him but wasn't.
He needed someone to save him.
He couldn't take it all alone anymore.
He released wailed sob.

A voice came from outside his door, "Tommy?"
Shit.
Fuck.
Tommy let out another sob, grabbing harshly over his chest. He tried to move his body, to stand up and get away from whatever was taking to him.

He was beyond terrified.

He tried to get up, to flap his wings and get away, but in the midst of his panic he couldn't find the coordination to do so.
"Shit!" He cried, falling back down against the wall and landing half on his side.
"Jesus, what the fuck happened to you?" Wilbur asked, as he opened the door.