Strawberry Panic {TomTord}

Your mother should have swallowed (by fall out boy)

Moist sand clung to the thin, brittle skin of his small fingers, sticking together in awkward messy clumps. Rough grain irritated the flesh, roughly scraping the soft surface a raw red, bits and pieces of grit getting stuck beneath his harshly chewed nails. Circles of dirt coated his clothes, clinging wetly to the front of his overalls and staining the bright yellow of his undershirt, sleeves pushed up haphazardly to the crook of his elbows, displaying the fading blossoms of bruises that marred his arms.

Clouds overcast the sky, swallowing the gentle pastel blue into a thick, ugly grey- colour all but drained from the heavens above. A cool breeze lingered in the air, settling just over the line of uncomfortable, tingling numbness spreading over his body like a slow acting disease. Tree branches swirled in the distance, leaves crinkling and devoid of their usual healthy green, waving their whimsical dance as though they were trying to warn him of the upcoming rain. A hint of dampness lingered in the air, mixing with the scents of cut grass and fake wood. 

Squeals of excitement echoed throughout the playground, small crazed bodies flailing around as they played, screaming at the top of their lungs as they smashed various pieces of plastic together. Words blended together, getting lost in the swirling wind, few of them being English, few of them making sense. Babbles of happiness where mainly background noise, a steady dull hum that grated on his waking nerves, a pounding developing at his temples as Miss Applebury's kindergarten class tore the equipment apart with childish glee. 

But, despite everything, Tom was smiling.

Sitting cross-legged in the small sandbox, he felt a sense of profound calmness bubbling up in his veins, cheeks glowing a happy. A smile tugged on his lips, carefree and light- not feeling a single urge to smother it under a heavy layer of denial. Hands clawing at the soft sand, he fiddled with a small, useless spade, watching the other boy work diligently.  

Matt hummed a nonsensical tune under his breath, grinning proudly as he gently patted the top of his sandcastle. The walls were smooth, lacking any sort of dents or annoying cracks, not an inch of imperfection blemishing the delicate surface.

It was safe to say that it reminded him of Matt.

"I were an animal, what would I be?" Matt spoke up suddenly, a look of genuine curiosity lighting up his bright green eyes.

"Uh." Tongue twisting in his mouth, Tom thought for a couple of seconds, a series of animals flickering across his minds-eye as he struggled to come up with an answer.

How could he sum up the other in just one animal? Matt was a lot of things; kind, sweet, brave- he was- he was-

Lovely.

The sun in human form; soft and gentle, shining brightly, and warm to the touch.

"A dog." Tom coughed out instead, grimacing as he looked away, fruitlessly batting away the sand that rubbed against his palms, "Because you're my best friend."

Giggling, Matt flushed stupidly, freckles blending in quite nicely with the pink tint that dusted his chubby cheeks, "Do you know what you would be?"

Shrugging, Tom smacked his lips, hoping to look careless but not really having the maturity to fully pull it off, "I dunno."

"A squirrel," Matt replied easily,

A tad bit disappointed, Tom his frown, biting his lip as he raised a doubtful eyebrow, "Why?"

"I like squirrels."

Choking on his emotions, Tom digested his first ever compliment, his face as warm as his heart.

-

Guilt gnawed on his insides, chewing through the dense flesh like small writhing parasites, ripping out bloodied chunks with clenched jaws, the acidic feeling echoing like a physical pain. Wriggling through his gut, thick and restless, rolling around to constantly niggle at the background of his nerves, twitching insistently in the forefront of his brain.

 "Sleep comes easier to those who are kept ignorant."  

The words churned in his brain, similar to the rough seething stir that squeezed mercilessly at his stomach. 

"Those who are kept ignorant." Tom parroted weakly, staring unblinkingly down at his splayed hands, the faintest tremble present in the digits- it was almost as though if he looked hard enough, he would be able to look past the various disgusting deeds he had committed with them.

Wrapping his fingers around the handle of the gun, squeezing the trigger with a strong confident grip. Placing the harsh, cold barrel against the heated, panicked flesh of the other man, dull green eyes shimmering up at him with unshed tears, tracks lining his freckled cheeks.

"Tom, please-" 

A grunt left his lips, a dark acknowledgement- clenching his lids shut, he grimaced, lips pressed tight as he fired. White, bright light swallowed his vision, eyelids glowing a different colour as it swept over his face, a high pitched beeping filled his ears, muffling the cry that left his victim, his weapon shuddering in his grasp. 

When he dared to open them back up again, he was faced with the fact that the Matt he knew was gone forever. 

What was his body count again?

Suddenly, the Unknown Number's ominous, foreboding words came back to mock him. 

PREPARE TO PAY THE TOLL FOR YOUR ACTIONS

THE PRICE OF A LIFE CAN ONLY BE BALANCED WITH ANOTHER

WATCH YOUR BACK

He never got the chance to say sorry.

Not that it mattered anymore. 

Back resting against the counter, he made sure that he couldn't see his reflection from his hunched place on the floor, chin resting on his bent knees as he glared purposelessly. 

It was true what he had said to the beast- he did want to accept himself, and to move on. But not to repress his power, but to grow with it, gaining strength together as he learnt how to use his new body. Transforming back into the monster had to be perfected, and made much more efficient- it was the only thing that kept Tom useful; worthy of being alive. 

He had to earn the right to cry- the tears he shed for himself were undeserved and selfish. 

Such a stupid, stupid boy. 

—
A/N: We're getting close to 30K views, my dudes. I'll have to think of something to celebrate... How about a blowjob scene? Eh, I'll figure it out.

Oh, btw- just for a peace of mind, nah Tom isn't romantically interested in Matt. Never has, never will be. It's the same when I gave Edd attention during the early chapters, it's just building non-romantic relationships. This fic is still TomTord.