Shouldn't Have [TomTord]

Chapter Four

Everything hurt. That was the first thought that passed through Tom's mind as he felt himself drift back into consciousness. He didn't want to open his eyes, but he felt air against his skin and a warmness surrounding him. Was he in heaven?

"Tom?"

God?

"Tom, open your eyes, please."

He did as instructed.

He expected to see walls of white, everything looking clean, and a powerful being standing beside him with a hand to his shoulder. If not that, at least clouds of white and golden sun rays filtering down and hitting his face gently. But he got neither of those things.

Instead, he was greeted with his darkened walls in his room and his cluttered mess on the floor. His crappy curtains that barely held back less to no light that shown in his face and Tom was blinded the moment he opened his eyes. What kind of sick hell is this?

"Are you feeling any better?"

And, of course, there was that voice ringing through his ears. Tom silently shifted and turned his head to the side, feeling it pound painfully. He opened his eyes a little and saw Matt, his face void of any happiness. What had gotten into him?

"Mmm." Tom hummed to show he was capable of hearing and talking. There was a pain in his chest that made itself apparent as Tom laid down longer, feeling the pain rise to the back of his throat.

He coughed lightly and felt something move upwards.

"Are you okay? You don't look so good..." Matt asked, but Tom could care less however he looked at that moment. He needed help.

"W..ar-ter." Tom coughed and wheezed out. Whatever it was in his throat was pushing against everything and he felt like he couldn't move anymore.

"Uh... no, I'm Matt." He sounded so confused.

"Wah. Ter." Tom tried to talk, but pain found its way to him. He couldn't speak anymore, it hurt too badly. He needed water. Why couldn't he say 'water'?

"Hang on, I'll go get Edd!" Matt ran out of the door in so much haste that Tom could barely make out his running figure. But, then again, he felt his eyesight blacken and come to over and over again. Why was he feeling this? He had just woken up, how come everything he did always ended up in pain and misfortune on his side?

Tom knew he was going to die at that moment. He prepared himself. Did he have any regrets? Many. Did he have anything left to say? Not really. What was the last thing he wanted to think about? A sunny day, spending it inside talking with Edd and Matt, listening to the next crazy scheme and adventure they'd be taking next.

But he didn't think about that. Instead, he felt himself slip off the bed, his body smacking into the hard, carpeted ground and shaking in pain. He wanted to scream out and ask for help, but his throat felt stuffed and engulfed with objects. Were there flowers in his throat? Is that what is making him feel this way? How can little tiny flower petals, sizes smaller than the pad of his thumb, have such an effect on him that it felt like his body was paralyzed and forever doomed to never move again?

He heard feet padding down the hallway, rushing as if running a marathon. He felt the feet pound against the floor, shaking his head, which rested on the carpet and made him smell his disgusting floor. He tried to open his mouth and ask for water, or help, or anything, but all he got was the yarn from the carpet into his mouth and a bullet of pain shooting up from his throat. Tom couldn't see a thing and, ever so slowly, he felt like his hearing was losing itself too.

He heard mumbling, or maybe it was distant yelling, he couldn't tell. Everything felt underwater and he could no longer bring himself to float to the top now, if he was going to be dramatic.

He felt himself being lifted off the ground. Not too shortly after, he felt shaking and thought that he was going to be dropped and crash through the hard ground. I'm a sense, Tom felt like he could feel everything, but he also felt like he was losing himself and would soon die. What a cruel way to feel.

His vision blacked out and came back every once and awhile, all the while mumbling and distant talking was constantly being uttered around him. He saw the carpeted ground from higher up, moving by with speed. He then saw the kitchen, him being laid down on the table and staring on the kitchen window. He thought he saw something blurry and green, but his vision immediately blacked out again.

The feeling in his throat has become numb now and he could no longer find himself to care about that. Sure, maybe his throat was the reason why he would soon die, but he couldn't care. He just wanted it to end soon.

He felt something cool being pressed to his face and a wash of liquid float down his throat, his body numb but the sensations of temperature making a difference to him.

His throat felt sore as he forced himself to swallow the liquid, a dense consumption for Tom that left pain in it's wake. Why did he just drink it and not ask questions? What if he had drank poison? Or some kind of plant grower, to grow more flower petals in his throat?

Tom, now very sleepy, couldn't bring his eyes to remain open any longer. He worried that it had something to do with that concoction he drank, but it was too far out of his hands now. He couldn't change the past.

He was ready to sleep.

.:.

Just like most mornings, Tom opened his eyes with a pain in his head.

Sunshine blinded his eyes like usual and he stretched in his laying position, arching his back until he heard his spine pop. After that, he shifted a little and brought himself to sit up on his bed, rubbing his sockets and allowing himself to finally open them and look around.

He found that he wasn't on his bed and he wasn't in his room.

He was on the couch in the living room. And as soon as that processed through his mind, he heard a faint gasp and shot his head to the side. There, right beside him, was Edd and Matt with reddened and teary eyes.

Edd held a hand to his mouth as he stared at Tom in disbelief, his eyes shimmering. Every time he blinked, a couple tears will fall and slowly roll down his cheeks, leaving a trail of wet in their wake. Matt, on the other hand, was rubbing at his eyes mercilessly and sniffing quietly to himself, as if afraid to ruin the silence. He looked so uncharacteristically sad and quilt ridden. What had happened?

"Uh.... yeah?" Tom raised an eyebrow, looking to his two friends. Upon hearing his own voice, it sounded absolutely wrecked. It felt too painful to talk as well.

"Oh, Tom!" Edd launched himself at Tom, which was soon followed by Matt. Before he knew it, Tom was being hugged and coddled viciously by his two best friends, hearing their cries of joy (or maybe sadness?) and being squeezed until all the air left his lungs.

"Wo- Uh!! Guys!!" Tom choked out as he felt the arms around him tighten. A second later, his two best friend pushed off of him, leaning back to look at Tom like he had died and came back to life.

"Tom, we're so glad you're alright! You're alright, right?" Edd stressed out, "You're okay? We were so worried, you have no idea! I can't believe you're ok--"

"Dude!" Tom cut Edd off, confusion on what he was talking about leading to his now frustrated feelings, "What are you talking about?" Tom knew he probably sounded like a jerk to just immediately have an attitude with his friend, but he couldn't help himself. He had no idea what was going on and he doesn't remember a single thing that happened before this, so he had no clue to what Edd was fretting about and why he was sitting on the living room couch.

Edd flushed at being cut off and looked towards Matt, as if non-verbally saying something to him. Matt sighed out in defeat.

"We need to tell you something..."

.:.