Tell Me What I'm Missing [TomTord Fanmade AU]

*1*

You'd think, once someone was finally free, they'd be able to change what was absent from their life for so long. 

I had thought so too. 

Before I realized,

Life isn't a miracle.

>*Tord's P.O.V, Present*<

Tom had housed me since I had no where else to go, unless I wanted to live on the streets, of course. I felt like I hadn't seen the world in an eternity... when it really hadn't been that long. I'll admit, I realize that now. 

To current time, I sat on the front doorstep of Tom's home, never again taken aback by his shabby decor. Sure, the plants were not well taken care of as I would have hoped, it was better than the shack under the park bridge Tom showed me last week. 

Tom left the house a few hours ago, trying to find a new job. He was hoping to find one that payed well. 

"Maybe I can be a lawyer... or a fireman..!" He had said, his tone making it seem he wasn't even so sure of success himself.

"I'm sure you'd make a great mailman," I had remarked from where I stood, positive in my own mind he'd go into bankruptcy. 

After giving me a eyeless glare, Tom whipped around and huffed. "I'm sure I'll get something better than an asylum therapist." The brunet had muttered, glancing at me. 

He left without a word a little later, leaving me to my own mind. I pondered whether today he'd finally get a job, or it'd be yet another failed attempt. 

When I settled into his humble yet battered abode, Tom helped me to get fit to the outside world. He had suggested for me to try out a few sweaters... but since he couldn't pay for a prosthetic limb, it'd be awkward with an empty sleeve, I reminded him. So he allowed me to scavenge his closet for something worth liking. I found a black t-shirt in his closet once, pulling it out. It was pitch black, with a large white star on the middle front. I had pulled it over my head, testing out the size. It fit like a charm, and Tom agreed to loaning it to me. Thrilled, I searched through more his wares, not finding anything else that satisfied my taste. 

Looking up, I smiled cheerily as Tom's car pulled up in the driveway, the aged metal groaning as his small black car came to a halt. 

"Tom! Welcome home!" I chimed, walking over to him as he stepped onto the pavement. Noticing his serious expression, I added, "How'd it go...?"

Tom sighed, looking quite exhausted. "I can't take it," he told me as we walked inside his home, "I just want to find a job, Tord. I want to live a normal life again." 

A little hurt by his words, I imagined how much happier he must have been before he met me. 

"Well... perhaps you could find something more sufficient to do... maybe not a higher level occupation, but something simple. Like a mailman." I suggested, shrugging my shoulders.

Tom hung up his navy jacket, leaving him with a light grey tee. "I can't be a mailman. Please, don't bring that idea back up again." He replied blankly, leaving me in the hallway while he trudged down the hall, into his room. Felling a little frustrated with his lack of hope, I grabbed Tom's white coat and checkered tie he had left on the hangers ever since he brought me here, put them on, and went into his room. Only to find him on his bed, reading the job listings in the newspaper. 

"Hey," I began, grabbing his attention, "Maybe you could be a therapist again." I recommended, gesturing my attire, although I glanced awkwardly at the limp right sleeve. 

Tom laughed slightly as he too looked over my strange clothing. Soon after, however, he frowned again. "I can't do that again." He said firmly, shaking his head and looking back at the paper.