Sniper

Chapter 15

(Hi! silly dumb dumb author here. Before we get into this cesspit of a final chapter, it will be written in the third person rather than first like the majority of this story has been. I was initially just going to do third person for Tord's chapter for tonal reasons but since writing that I am finding it absolutely impossible to go back to first person; third person just allows for far better story writing. It is back to the present and shiz but I just wanted to clarify... now, back to my bullshit uwu)
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Tom's eyes wracked over the words on the paper in his hands. Each line of text was like daggers plunging into his spine, tearing skin and muscle from his bones. His strength faltered, the weight of the note growing ever heavier. His hands trembled as tears fell upon the page without a whisper of a sound, he had no control over his body, tears tapped faster and heavier onto the letters, smudging the ink that confessed to him his greatest fear he never could have conceived. This whole time he feared for his life being ripped away from him, by the very man who had helped give it back to him.

Tom stared blankly through the growing void in his hands. His mind grew blank. His world crushing in around him once again. He wanted nothing but to crawl back into the hole he once resided in. The hole he relied on before Tord came into his life and pulled him out. He wanted to rewind time so he would no longer feel like this. It was a pain worse than the agony he existed in in the past. His vision growing blurred as he curled up into himself. Pressing his face hard into his knees, finally letting out wracked, burning cries. His entire body shook violently under the wails that fell from his throat, each wretched noise burning as if they were clawing at his insides, desperate to stay deep inside.

It was so much worse, so much worse than the want to die, the want to disappear, the want for it to end. That drowning loneliness was looming over him again, mocking him as he lay cold and festering in the bed that once filled his body with so much warmth. The dread of never hearing Tord's laugh again. Feeling his warm steady breath against his forehead as they held each other. Seeing his smile every morning as he woke up. Being with tord. Loving him. Living with him. Being alive with him... Being alive...

Tom's eyes crept open, a heavy layer of tears still blurred his vision, yet he'd never felt he could see more clearly. He was alive. Tord hadn't killed him. Despite all the time he had to do it, all the opportunities he had, he had actually helped Tom. He gave him something, no, someone to live for when he had literally nothing else. And Tom did not want that taken away from him. Not again.

He sprung from the bed almost faster than his legs could carry him. His heart pounded in his chest with a fire he had never felt before. His feet pounded hard against the laminate floor of his and Tords apartment practically running into every wall as he booked it to the door barely stopping to grab a jacket. Running down the cold cement stairs like a bolt of lightning taking two or three steps at a time, pure adrenaline; the only thing keeping his shaking body on his feet. He only had one thing in his mind. Get to the airport as fast as he could, any way possible. And just his luck, he knew someone that could drive.

"Edd!!!" Tom's voice shattered the mild chattering that filled the quaint little shop.

Edd now with a look of sheer panic on his face answered meekly, shocked at the normally quiet, reserved Tom's uncharacteristic outburst, "Tom? What's going on?"

"I need you to drive me to the airport now! I'll explain everything on the way, I just need you to do this for me." Tom panted, sheer desperation overpowering any other emotion or doubt that would normally have cripled him.

Edd, without any visible hesitation, grabbed his keys from his pocket and ran to the door, leaving Matt to presumably look after the shop while he was gone.