Title: A Song To Say Goodbye...
Disclaimer: Do not own the boys/band/music sadly
Warnings: Abuse, Adult Content, Blood, Drug Use, Major Character Death, OOC, Suicide, WIP
Summary: Bill and Tom both suffer from bipolar disorder. As the years since their diagnosis has passed they've become all but recluse, hiding away in the basement bedroom they share.
Bill begins to withdraw from Tom, his depression slowly overtaking him. When things take a turn for the worse they choose to form a suicide pact. When the time comes to enact it, Tom begins to have second thoughts. With Bill so set on going through with it, can Tom stop him in time before the suicide pact becomes a single case of teen suicide?
Author's notes: This is my first, actual TH Fic. Please be honest?
Exposed. Painfully exposed. That’s how Bill felt as he was thrust into the crowd, pulled forcefully by Tom’s gripping hand as he fought his way through the cluster of tightly knit bodies. There were too many bodies. Too many bright colors and loud noises. He found himself shying away from everyone and everything he touched as if they were flames licking closer and closer toward him. Their touch was deadly and he was forced against them as the crowed swayed along the streets, each person going their own, personal direction. Bill tightened his grip and Tom winced.
“Bill? It’s only a little further.”
“It’d better be.” He retorted, yanking Tom’s hand to bring them closer together once more. Dropping the injured fingers, he slid his arms around Tom’s waist and leaned his head against the closest shoulder. Bill didn’t care if it made the walk more difficult; he needed the closeness if he were to survive their adventure outdoors.
Tom smiled wryly and returned the gesture, throwing his arm over Bill’s shoulders and pulling him in closer. “It is. We’re here.” The duo stopped in their tracks, uncaring or unaware of the glares being shot at them by the speeding passerby.
The studio was a tall, brick building in the middle of town. It had an edgy style and the colors were muted. Bill could deal with that. He nodded his approval and looked to his elder brother to lead the way inside.
“I think you’ll like this place. Georg is really cool.” Tom voiced, yanking open the door and guiding Bill inside.
While Bill was perfectly content hiding in their room all day long, Tom did like to go out for walks now and again; a vain attempt at clearing his head. That’s how Tom had happened upon Georg. The skate park down the block had an alright arcade and the two had found a niche together there. When Georg had mentioned his place of employment, Tom had locked that bit of information up on his head for future reference. For a day like today.
The music was laughable, Bill noted. That’s the first thought that occurred to him as he lowered the hood from his head and looked around the store. It was emo, full of angst and a sorrow the singers had obviously never experienced for themselves. Fucking posers…
The rest of the store was typical, for what it was. It catered to those that had the odd obsession of collecting daggers and swords. Usually gamers, strange as that idea was, were the ones that found things like katanas and blades to be empowering to their imaginary characters.
These beautiful instruments were bought and left to hang on walls for display. The idea of these tools not being used for their intended purpose angered Bill, but he understood that those days had passed long ago. He wished he’d been born in the dark ages.
“Hey, Tom!” A gruff voice rang out and Bill swiveled to catch a glimpse of the long haired brunette as he closed an office door behind him and ventured out into the public portion of the store. “Man, haven’t seen you in ages. How have you been?” He stopped in front of the two boys and smiled, looking oddly at the darker of the two whom Tom seemed to be holding awfully close. “Who’s this?”
“Uh, hey Georg. This is my brother, Bill.” He smiled softly. “We’re actually looking for something. A dagger. Something special?” Bill crossed his arms over his chest and looked back toward the wall, frowning at the pathetic excuses for weaponry that hung in view of the clientele.
“Uh yeah. Sure thing.” Something about the way Bill carried himself left an odd feeling in Georg’s stomach but he brushed it off for Tom’s sake. Nodding for the two to follow him, he led them toward the back of the store and pulled a key ring from his back pocket. “This is where we keep the high end stuff.” He revealed, unlocking the door and stepping aside. Bill looked to Tom questioningly and his brother smiled, waving his warm toward the door. Releasing his hand, Bill stepped inside the small room and his grim frown turned into a delighted smile. This was more like it.
Three glass cases lined the far wall, each displaying gleaming blades of various sizes and shapes. Each individual dagger nested on a silk pillow and Bill itched to touch them all. His fingers slid along the glass tops, longing to touch one. To feel one as it pressed into his skin. He could feel himself becoming excited already, but he checked that particular thought and smiled back at his brother.
“This one.” He grinned, turning back to the case. Beneath the glass where Bill’s hands pressed firmly lay a medium dagger. The handle was silver and wound in red leather that was crested with burgundy stones. His voice was quiet and filled with longing. “It calls to me…”
A warm, knowing smile crossed Tom’s features and glanced back to Georg. “We’ll take two of that one.” Georg nodded and waited for Tom to take Bill’s hand and move him aside before he produced the same key ring and unlocked the glass door, sliding it aside to free the item. As he slid two boxes from underneath the inside shelving, he turned back toward the door and was caught off guard by the elated smile on Bill’s face. He seemed unnaturally excited about this.
“You a big collector or something?” He chuckle, sheathing the weapons and tucking them under his arm.
“No. He’s just… really wanted one for a long time.” Tom offered, taking Bill’s hand and tugging him back out into the store. Bill pouted in protest and Georg followed suit, locking the door behind him before leading them back to the counter.
Bill clung to Tom’s hand tightly, his heart fluttering in anticipation. “I can’t wait to try it out.” He moaned, his legs bouncing with energy beneath him.
Georg’s finger paused above the register keys at Bill’s comment. “Try it out?”
“Uh, he means, you know. See how it looks in its display case? Back home?” Tom replied quickly. He shot a warning look to Bill as he handed Georg the correct amount and Bill lowered his eyes, nibbling on his bottom lip shyly.
“Yeah…” Georg tried to shake off the feeling this other kid was giving him as he stashed the knife in the brown bag and handed Tom his change. “Yeah, well. I hope you enjoy it.”
“We will.” Tom smiled, taking the back and shoving the money in his pocket.
“Sure as shit.” Bill giggled, rolling his eyes at his older brother’s shocked reaction. “Oh knock it off, Tomi. Come on. I’m done with this adventure.” He pushed his brother forcefully toward the store front door and replaced the black hood atop his hair. “You said an hour. I’ve been gone an hour. I want to go back.” Seeing the various people milling about outside the door sent that insecure feeling spinning in his stomach again.
“Bye Georg!” Tom yelled over his shoulder. He glared at Bill as he opened the door and pushed him out into the crowd. Bill yelped and drew back, clinging to his brother’s arm for dear life. “Serves you right.” Tom hissed, trying to shake Bill’s hands.
“Stop it! Tomi, please!” He squeaked, his eyes wide and fearful. He glanced around him, his body stiffening and his breath hitching in his throat as people pushed through, knocking him back. His face paled and Tom’s heart sank.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered, catching Bill and wrapping his arms tight about him as he pulled him close to his chest. Bill sank into his arms held him in a vice grip. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Bill whimpered an inaudible reply and Tom sighed. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
Heavy footsteps pelted the stairs as Bill ran down them, eager to be back in the dank basement he called home. It was darker here, more secluded and quiet. He liked his little hermit lair that he sometimes took for granted. He kicked off his boots and let them lay where they fall before wrenching the overly large hoodie up and over his head. That too joined his boots and he bolted for the couch, pouncing on it and swinging to face the steps as Tom descended at a slower pace.
“Oh, would you hurry up!” Bill moaned, lowering himself to sit on his calfs. “I want to try them out!”
“Unh uh.” Tom shook his head and marched over to the closet, opening the door and stashing the small brown bag on the upper shelf. “You’re not doing anything,” Bill whimpered and Tom closed the door and crossed the room to stand in front of him, ‘anything, until you go take a shower.” Bill’s eyes narrowed and Tom’s moved to match. A short staring contest ensued until Bill sagged and lazily shifted his legs, standing up to his full height.
“Fine.” He growled, slamming his shoulder against Tom’s as he walked past. God, he hated when Tom got like this. Tom tried to act like he was Bill’s keeper at times and it drove him nuts. Just because he was the saner of the two... whatever.
Tom sighed and rubbed his eyes warily as he collapsed onto the large couch. A day outside with Bill was more tiresome than he recalled and he curled up against a rough pillow and shut his eyes for a short while.
A short while turned into the length of Bill’s shower it seemed as Tom awoke to water pelting his face.
“What the hell?” Tom bolted upright, wiping the water droplets from his face before rubbing his eyes to clear his blurred vision. A quiet snickering perked his ears and he scanned the dark room until he caught a lithe form moving in the shadows. “Bill,” he sighed tiredly, stretching his arm behind him to switch on the floor lamp. “what are you up to?”
The light lit up their small corner of the room and Tom froze as his eyes adjusted to the light. A damp towel landed on his head and he fought through it to regain his view of a very wet and very naked Bill standing with his hands on his hips. His smile was devilish and his eyes indicated a catty side, a side that rarely came out to play. Water dripped from his limp hair, sliding down the length of his body, turning against every curve until it met with the carpet below.
“You prefer me all squeaky clean, don’t you?” He purred, rolling his stance to the other leg. Tom just nodded dumbly, swallowing as Bill stepped closer and straddled his lap. “Or maybe you just like it when I squeak in general.” The statement was followed by Bill reaching between their bodies and gripping the hardening lump of flesh through Tom’s jeans.
Tom’s reply came in the form of a shuddering gasp, quickly swallowed by Bill as he leaned forward and captured his reddening lips with his own. A power struggle started as both boys fought for control, each one grinding against the other blissfully as Tom fought to overpower Bill and push him down onto the couch. Crossing his arms, he lifted his large shirt up and over his head, pulling the tie out of his hair at the same time and tossing them to the ground. His dreads fell down, caressing his shoulders as Bill’s movements ceased, taken by Tom’s domineering side.
“Seems I’ve tamed the cat.” Tom mused lowly, his eyes darkening as Bill settled onto his back willingly. Bill’s eyes narrowed in return and his hand shot up, gripping a pink nipple and twisting none too gently, eliciting a breathy hiss of a moan from its owner.
“You are so,” Tom breathed, leaning in and stealing a tender kiss, “going to regret that.”
“I’m counting on it.” Bill countered, laughing darkly as Tom sat back up and made quick work of his belt buckle. Bill’s fingers moved lazily down his abdomen, gripping eagerly at the growth between his own thighs, arching into the touch. Tom stood to remove his jeans then batted Bill’s hands away as he nestled back into place.
“Fuck that, that’s my job.” Tom growled. His hands wound into Bill’s slick hair, pulling him into a scorching kiss that sent shivers down both their spines. Bill’s head lolled back, his mouth open and gasped as Tom attacked his neck, biting, licking and kissing at the pale flesh. Tom’s strong, firm hand wandered between the two and wrapped solidly around Bill’s weeping prick.
A feminine gasped filled the room and Tom paused, feeling his twin freeze beneath him as well. Their eyes met and Bill shook his head. It wasn’t him. Simultaneously, both boys turned their heads toward the steps and in a flash Tom was up, wrapping Bill’s abandoned towel about his waist as Bill turned to face the back of the couch.
“Get out!” A low, menacing growl of a warning from Tom to Ana.
“I don’t believe it…” She trailed off, her hand flying to her mouth as she stared down Bill’s naked back.
“I said get out!” Louder this time, jerking Ana from her thoughts.
“I… just… here!” She screamed, throwing the small paper bag at his feet. A roll of medical tape rolled out as Tom’s feet. Tears sprang to her eyes and she backed up against the wall as Tom slowly closed the distance between the two of them and snatched the bag and the tape from the floor. “How could you, Tom?”
“He needs me!” Tom righted himself and his harsh eyes bore into hers as he clung tighter to the towel.
“Like this?” She was struggling to understand, desperate to, but she couldn’t. Knowing about it and seeing it were two vastly different things.
“Whatever he needs, however he needs it, he gets it.” He hissed. A quiet sob broke through the whispers and Tom turned to see Bill curled into a ball, sobbing into the arm of the couch. “You stupid bitch, now look! Get out!” he started again, taking Ana roughly by the arm and forcing her back up the steps. Too afraid to fight back and all too ready to flee, she yanked her arm from her eldest son and ran ahead of him, slamming the basement door closed once she was safely on the other side.
Taking the steps two at a time, Tom flashed back to Bill’s side and scooped the shivering boy up, setting him in his lap. Feeling the familiar touch of warm skin against skin, Bill promptly wrapped his arms tightly around Tom’s neck and buried his face in his dreads, his body wracked with harsh sobs that tore at his throat.
“I’m sorry.” Bill whispered meekly, forcing the words out amongst his cries. Tom shushed him and held him close, wishing all the while that their mother had never returned.
“There’s nothing to apologize for Billa.” Tom replied, kissing away the tears as they fell. “You did nothing wrong.”
Bill whipped his eyes and pulled away, prying Tom’s hand off his shoulder as he went. “Fuck, let’s do this.” Tom watched after Bill in confusion as the smaller boy began pulling a fresh set of clothes from their bureau and slipped into them, his shoulder still shaking. “Come on!” He screamed, running his hands through his hair and pulling in frustration. His heart beat hard enough to make his limbs shake and he sat down forcefully on the bed. “Move it Tom, let’s do this!”
Shocked, Tom nodded dumbly and slid back into his boxers before crossing over to their closet and removing the brown bag from the shelf. “Here.” He tossed it toward Bill and it landed on the bed beside him where he instantly snatched it up and tore into the packaging until he produced two happy and gleaming daggers.
“Amazing.” Bill breathed in awe as Tom crossed his arms over his chest and leaned dejectedly against the wall.