Chapter Fifteen

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Thom woke up to a jumble of voices, his head pounding as though it were trapped in a vice. He squinted against the dim light, disoriented and aching, his body barely cooperating as he shifted to sit up. As the fog cleared from his mind, he realized he was on Colin's couch, wrapped in a blanket, with Ed and Phil crouched beside him. Phil had a glass of water in hand, offering it to Thom, while Ed's concerned face hovered in his peripheral vision.

"Take it slow," Ed murmured, pressing a hand to Thom's shoulder to steady him. "You took a nasty fall."

Thom groaned softly, the events leading up to this moment coming back to him in waves. The bridge. The shouting. The fall. He shuddered at the memory, feeling the lingering cold of the river water in his bones. 

For the first time in a long time, he was afraid to die.

Shit, I almost drowned! God, did the Fab Four here really decide on taking me anywhere but the hospital after nearly drowning!? What geniuses.

Before he could say anything, raised voices erupted across the room, dragging his attention toward the doorway where Colin and Jonny were at each other's throats, hurling words like weapons. By the looks of it, they had been going at it for while before Thom had come to.

"You always think you know best, don't you?" Jonny snarled, his face twisted in anger. "Like you've got everything figured out, when really you're just as messed up as the rest of us!"

Colin scoffed, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, eyes blazing. "Oh, that's rich, coming from the guy who can't stay clean for more than five minutes. What, you think I don't know? You think I haven't noticed you spiraling again?"

The room went dead silent, Ed and Phil exchanging uneasy glances, while Thom's head snapped up, eyes widening at the accusation. Jonny's face blanched, his breath hitching as the weight of Colin's words settled on his chest like a heavy stone. His bravado faltered for just a moment, and in that instant, everyone could see it—the fear, the guilt, the vulnerability he tried so hard to hide. But the fear quickly morphed into anger, and Jonny's eyes narrowed, his voice rising defensively.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jonny snapped, though his voice trembled ever so slightly. "You don't know shit about me, Colin. You're always making these assumptions, thinking you know everything, but you don't!"

Colin's jaw clenched, his arms still crossed tightly over his chest as he glared at his brother. "Don't lie to me, Jonny. I've seen it all before. You're going crazy. You think you're being subtle? I'm not an idiot. You're acting just like you used to."

Jonny's hands were trembling now, and he quickly shoved them into his pockets, trying to hide it. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he could feel the panic creeping in, clawing at the edges of his mind. The last thing he needed was this. Not now. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

"Stop trying to play the concerned brother card," Jonny spat, his voice a little too loud, a little too frantic. "You don't give a damn about me. You just want to control everything—keep me under your thumb like you always do."

"Control you?" Colin shot back, his voice rising in frustration. "I've been picking up the pieces of your mess for years! You think I like watching you destroy yourself? You think I want to deal with this?"

Jonny's breathing was quickening, his chest heaving as he fought to keep his composure. The room felt like it was closing in on him, the walls pressing closer with each second. He needed to get out. He needed air.

"I'm not spiraling," Jonny muttered, almost to himself, though the words felt hollow. He could feel their eyes on him—Thom, Ed, Phil—all of them watching, waiting. Waiting for him to crack. "I'm fine."

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