endure and survive. | tlou

࿔ tommy imagine.

ㅤㅤ✹⠀˖

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: oooookay, this was requested a lil bit ago by @mcsmfan29
tommy is shot and reader talks with him until his death. (y'all love putting me through pain.)

࿔

It was supposed to be a simple day. You'd spend the day at the hydroelectric dam, just working on some simple repairs and patch ups to the old place. By three o'clock you'd go home and maybe read a book or work on stitching up one of your jackets you ripped on patrol. Then Tommy would come home from patrol.

It's just after four thirty when a knock sounds at your door, just minutes after you've settled in your living room with a book grasped by your fingertips. You mark the page with a dog ear - your bookmark mysteriously disappeared days prior - and shuffle across the home to the front door where the urgent knocking persists. From the window you can see one of the men from the usual gate watchers, his eyes hold something of a nervous haze to them.

You pull the door open, a small smile pressed to your lips for a moment. "What's up, Seb?" You question, curiosity beginning to eat away at your mind. Why did he seem nervous? Sebastian was always so confident, so quirky. The complete opposite of the man standing on your porch right this second.

The man swallows thickly, debating the words in his mind. He's unsure how to process them, how to vocalize what he's come to tell you. But it's urgent, he has no time to stall. "It's Tommy, Y/N. Got ambushed by some hunters and -

Before Sebastian can finish his sentence, you're sprinting away from him, grabbing the nearest pair of shoes you spot. Once those are pulled on you're slamming the door shut, jogging down the steps of your house and taking a sharp turn towards the medical building. Behind you, Sebastian is calling after you, trying to tell you something else that completely flies over your head. Right this second you need to go see Tommy, make sure he's okay.

Your mind swirls with different scenarios of what you may be presented with once you arrive at the medical building. He could have been shot, he could have bled out on the way back to Jackson, the possibilities were endless. Maybe that's what made each footstep harder than the last. A tiny voice in your mind desperately hoped the man would be fine, just a graze, maybe even nothing. Maybe you'd get to the building and he'd chuckle at you, telling you it was nothing but a scratch and asking if you wanna cook dinner with him tonight.

The door to the medical building lightly thuds against the wall when you enter, frantic eyes searching for Sydney. The woman is clearing some gauze from the shelves, a mess of crimson dribbled down her arms and soaked into her shirt. She startles at your arrival, immediately dropping the gauze to come to you.

"Hey, Y/N. You can't - you don't need to be in there right now." She starts, words hesitant and cautious. She knows how you'll react to being denied entry if he's hurt. However, she won't be the one to face the wrath of you for telling you no if you persist. Sydney knows to quit when she's ahead.

You roll your eyes, hands shaking at the sight of so much blood on her shirt. That couldn't be his blood, could it? "Is that his blood?" You find yourself asking, though you don't recall forming the words on your tongue. Everything seems tense, almost like a dream.

Sydney hesitates, nervously flickering her gaze from you to the back room. She nods, quickly sidestepping when you storm past her.

The sight is nowhere near what you'd expected.

It's Tommy, of course, your Tommy. He's laying on his back, staring at the doorway you've entered through with a grimace; he's in pain. On his stomach there's a thick line of bandages seeped with blood, sweat rolling down his forehead in a fevered reaction.