Help me... (a tommyinnit angst fanfic)

Bandages

Phil's POV:

"He went to the disabled toilet," the man behind the desk said, checking the cameras.

"Okay, thank you, do you have bandages?" I asked. 

"Sure do. He's here so often, after a fight or argument, that I've took to keeping supplies in here, although he hadn't been in here for three days before now," he said as he threw me some. 

I said my thanks, and left, thankful of the tour I was given earlier, and found my way to the disabled bathroom. I was about to knock, but I heard sobs coming from the other side. I hesitated. If he really didn't want help, I could get hurt, but more importantly, Tommy could get hurt. I didn't want that. I could hear sharp gasps for breath on the other side of the door. Fuck it. I knocked. 

"Tommy?"

The breathing stopped. 

"Tommy, it's okay. Please let me in, I want to help you, mate," I softly said. 

Tommy's POV:

I could hear Phil on the other side of the door. Can I trust him? He seems nice.

(Everyone does at first) 

And he can't do anything on school premises, right? 

(Wrong) 

He won't hurt me

(He will) 

He wants to help

(He's trying to draw you out to hurt you) 

I stood up shakily. I can do this. Just unlock the door. Just unlock it. My shaking hand hovers over the lock. I hesitantly unlocked the door. 

Straight away, the handle shot downwards and the door opened. I jumped back and whimpered. 

"Thank you for letting me in... I'm proud of you, I know that wasn't easy. Can I take you to a classroom? It'll be just you and me," Phil said, staying three paces away. 

He's proud of me? Why did I feel happy when he said that? 

(He's lying) 

(He wants to get your guard down) 

Yeah, that's what he doing. It's gotta be. 

I nodded my head and he reached his hand out. No way was I gonna hold his hand. I'm not a baby. I just stared at his hand, and he let it fall. 

"C'mon then, mate," he said and walked out. I followed like a little duckling follows it's mother. I hated myself. Why did I think that? Phil is nothing more than an obstacle. Okay, a person shaped one, but that's not my problem. 

We arrived at an empty room, about three times the size of a janitors cupboard. I sighed. There was a table with a chair either side and a window. That's all there was to that room. Oh, and the door. Phil moved the chairs so they were next to each other, sat down on one, and looked at me patiently and expectantly. I sat in the chair. 

Phil's POV:

Tommy looked so vulnerable right now, but I didn't mention it to him, just in case he flipped out again. I saw him attack the teacher before he came to the office. I saw the other boy restrain him and whisper something in his ear. I saw that it made him walk out the class, rather than carry on trying to attack the teacher. I saw him punch and dent the lockers. I saw his fearful and angry look as he saw the camera outside the office. 

Tommy sat on the chair. I relaxed. He trusted me to some extent. That's good. 

"Can I see your hands?" I asked. 

He looked at his hands, then at me, before holding out one of his hands. I lightly held it, just above the wrist, looking at the damage. God, it was quite bad. 

Tommy's POV:

He held my hand so lightly, it was like he was trying to not hurt me. He took one look at the blood and took off his jacket, using the sleeve to gently wipe away the access blood. 

"You poor boy..." He muttered under his breath. 

He wrapped my hand in bandages and did the same to the other. I looked at my hands. He cared. He didn't want to hurt me. 

(Yet) 

I stood up.

"Wait up," Phil said, standing, but I had already walked out the door. He thinks I'm weak now, he saw me hurt. He heard me cry. I'm going to have to do something to remind him that I am not weak. 

Father will kill me if he sees the bandages on my hands, so I'll have to take them off before I get home, because God forbid I take care of myself. Phil was jogging behind me.

"Leave me alone."

He sighed. "I can't, kid, I'm here to observe you so I can he-"

"IM NOT AN ANIMAL!" I yelled at him and stopped walking. "YOU DON'T NEED TO OBSERVE ME! I'M FINE! THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH ME!"

A teacher walked out the classroom next to us, receiving a death glare from me, before retreating and closing the door.

"I never said there was, Toms, I-"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!"

"Tommy. I want to help you."

"THEN LEAVE ME ALONE!" I screamed at him before walking off. He waited a second then jogged back up to me.

"I know you don't want my help. I know that you hate the fact that I'm watching you. I'm sorry for that, but if you don't get any better behaved, then you're going to be kicked out mate, and I don't want to see a kid like you kicked out. I know that how you're acting isn't your fault, and I'll find out why and I'll help you, but you need to cooperate with me," Phil said.

I wasn't convinced, but if I was kicked out of this school, then who knows what my dad would do to me? I couldn't let Phil find out the reason I act like this, however I couldn't afford to get expelled either, so I just sighed and nodded my head.

"Okay, fine," I muttered.

"Great, what lesson have you got?"

"I have sci-" the bell rang and kids started to pour out of the classes. "Scratch that. I have maths."

"Let's go then."

I groaned and followed Phil to the next class.