TomTord/TordTom Oneshots and eddsworld art

Guilt (Part 2)

here we go. angst part 2. btw everything from part 1 is important to this. every. single. word.

(Tom's POV)

He came back. He fucking came back. My pleads were answered. Waltzing in, scars littering his right side, robotic prosthetic following suit. Acting like there's nothing wrong.

He's okay. He's alive. He can save me. Save me. Help me. He-

He hates me. He must. He hates me and the weight, the phantoms just grow grow grow- they never stop growing no no no—

He'll never forgive me. He'll never forget. He sits on the end of the couch and glares. He glares he glares he glares right into my windowless soul—

Keep up the act. I hate him. I have to hate him. I have to keep my breaking smile. For green, for purple, for blue. I meant to shoot the harpoon straight through him- I wanted him to die die die (I never did).

It hurts still (why does it hurt?). Tord, end it end it please I'm begging you just end it all (how?). Forgive forgive take a knife plunge it into my heart that's been broken anything please just end it—

My smile is ripping apart as they speak. My mind breaking and crumbling into dusty bits. No one sees. He just glares. I can't bring myself to glare back. Blank blank blank stare. He flashes concern. Back to glares.

The talk between the three goes on and on. I remain silent silent silent.
The phantoms choke me. I can't speak I can't I can't I can't—(they. won't. let me).

"Tom?" Tom Tom Tom. Classic. Stupid- "Tom, are you alright?" Green. I merely nod. They worry. They worry and they shouldn't. They shouldn't worry.

I ache. My heart, my soul, myself. It's so painful- full of pain pain pain. Hurt. The weights. Weights heavy heavy heavier—

Broken up thoughts. The phantoms want to watch a show. Put on a show a show but all they watch is static it fills my head all I hear is static fuzzyfuzzyfuzzy—

"Tom?!" Snap back to reality back to reality back to lif-
"Tim, why are you crying?" Purple. So long since I've seen purple. Purple the royal. Ask why I'm...cry..ing?

Plop plop plop the tears come falling. Rub my arm, make it sting, get a reason to cry. It doesn't work. It never works (I tried too many times). Buzz buzz buzzing filling my skull bouncing static more static black and white and gray flash flash flashing—

"...can't hear," I mumble. Static is too loud, too loud,"
"What is 'too loud', Jehovah?" Tord. The spite spitting out like spitfire. Burns, burns the shards of my heart.
"Are you finally going crazy?"

Yes, yes and I need you to fix me. Help me. Save me. Pull me out. Use the key. Unlock my chains. Free me.
Say something, say something, you idio—
"...get rid of them," I mutter. So weak so weak.
"Get rid of who?" Such a kind voice. Such a green and kind voice. Who, he asks. There are too many things to get rid of. The chains, the phantoms, the weights, the sharp shards of my heart lying at the bottom of my stomach.

Cry cry crybaby, such a crybaby. Get up, run, stumble, walk away. Back to your room, back to your thoughts with no interruptions, fix your smile fix it fix it—

I can't fix it. Not anymore. The dam has broken. It hurts, of course it does. It will always hurt.
"Tord. Fix me," Less than a whisper. The phantoms whisper, they gossip, they fill my brain mind skull with cold thoughts.

He's startled, confused, concerned. Small, broken me tremble trembling.
"Are you kidding me?" Chuckle chuckle filling my mind echo echoing—
"How am I—"
"Forgive, please forgive," Tears running streaks down my face, seeping into the broken threads and crumbling cracks of my smile.

Phantoms laugh laugh laugh, mocking taunting teasing. Classic, stupid Tom wants forgiveness! What a fool, a fool indeed! Laughter leaks into the outer world, escaping my head, coming from his lips.

"Seriously?!" Laugh chuckle echoing stop—
"Do you expect me to forgive you?!"
Snap
Snap of the thread.
Laugh laugh laugh back. Ha ha ha hA HA—
"Of course! What did I expect? For you to save my sanity?" Ha ha ha!
"It's not like I've been waiting oh-so patiently for you to free me from my own mental torture! No, it's fine. I'll just go commit suicide because I've already been planning to for the past year!" Green and Purple lose their color, faces pale like phantoms ghosts death-

Grip my scars my pain my cuts. Pain pain pain cause more pain. Sting sting blood spill- red red spread across the blue—
"TOM!" Screech scream yell are what green and purple do. Run run run, out the apartment into mine.

It's so loud so loud
Whispers, static, laughter ring in my head, mind, skull.
Phantoms grow- they grow loud and big, never stopping no no. Weights so heavy crushing me into powder.
Pull out the drawer, pull out the knife, pull the cabinet in the tile covered bathroom floor, take out the pills.

Screams pleads cries from beyond the door.
"TOM! DON'T DO IT! PLEAse, I'm begging you..." Green's yells turn into whimpers, soft and weak. Rattles my heart pieces around, clink clink clink.

Clack clack rattle, pills shake about, tumbling out the bottle, spilling into my hand. Blood-stained hand crimson crimes. The chains in my head clank together, the phantoms' laughter reverberating the air inside.

Put them in in in into your throat. Shove them down, farther and farther. Split your skin, long and wide. Let the red blossom and drip drop plop onto the floor. Fall drop thud. Thud. Thud thud thuD SLAM SLAM CRASH—

Down comes the door, in comes red, then green, then purple. It's so fucking loud. Static electrocuting my head, the phantoms yell and screech, clawing the inside. A pair of hands grab my fading body.

The pain the hurt slam my body my weak pathetic body being pricked yet I feel so empty—

Fuzz fuzz fuzzy is my mind. Static dies down. Down...down...quiet. The pain starts fading fading fading gone—

I was so much at once. So hurt, so broken, so trapped. Liquid drip drop plops onto my body. Warm, so very warm in his arms. I was so much one moment.

The next, I was nothing.

(I close my windows one last time.)

A/n
I don't remember writing most of this. it's only been a day.