You guys all decided on this poll that Tommy should get stabbed at the farmer's market, so here you go! *no major character death, a murder/suicide plot is briefly discussed*
He supposed the farmer's market wasn't the worst place to die. He'd prefer to be elsewhere, but it could be worse than the farmer's market.
He hoped his dad never found out he died right by the fruitcake stand. He could hear the jokes now.
Actually, his dad probably wouldn't come to the funeral, but he'd have to tell his buddies at the bar at some point.
He'd either completely ignore the whole “he was right by the fruitcakes” part, or he's use it as a silly little anecdote to lighten the mood.
Either way, Tommy wished he would've been stabbed literally anywhere other than by the fruitcakes. The soap booth would've been nice. Or by the bracelet lady. Hell, even the woman trying to get rid of the clothes she purchased at the height of some MLM scheme would've been preferred.
In fact, the MLM woman was super helpful at the moment as she used one of her checkered shirts to apply pressure to one of his wounds.
Tommy had managed to get the man on the ground before the stabbing happened. He just wished he'd known the guy had two knives instead of one.
He hadn't been the target. Had seen this man storming toward a woman and her daughter. She must've known him; she shouted his name when Tommy tackled him to the ground.
Tommy didn't let go of the man- Charlie, he thinks- until he stopped moving. The pain didn't register until the little girl screamed, pointing at him. He looked down to see blood soaking his shirt, and a knife sticking out of his chest.
He collapsed to the ground soon after that.
Right by the damn fruitcakes.
Thankfully, someone had the brains to yell out and make sure no one removed the knife.
Miss MLM dropped down beside him and pressed her clothing onto the wound that was bleeding the worst.
In his slightly dazed state, he tried to reach into his back pocket for his wallet. Felt the need to pay this lady for destroying her product.
Beside him, some man took his hand. Reassured him over and over that it'd be okay, help was on the way.
Tommy had heard that line before. Hell, he'd told people that line before. Not that help was coming, because he was the help. But he'd often tell people they'd be okay. Especially when he knew they wouldn't be. It's easier to die when you think you won't.
Tommy coughed. Ignored the taste of copper in his mouth. “T- The wo... woman?”
“She's okay,” another woman said. Tommy couldn't see where that voice was coming from. “You saved her.”
Well, at least he had that.
Then, there was another voice. A very familiar voice.
“Maddie?” Tommy mumbled.
Someone had called 9-1-1. They'd put her on speaker.
“M- Maddie, no... no one- eight-” he was cut off by another coughing fit.
The phone must've been near his head, because he was fairly certain she heard him.
“Tommy?! Tommy, is that you?”
The man holding his hand patted it, getting his attention. “Tommy? Is- Is that your name?”
“Mmmhm,” Tommy managed to hum.
“Yeah, his name is Tommy.”
Tommy was sure he heard an, “Oh God,” on the other end of the line. If he wasn't in the middle of dying he'd tell her she needed to work on her subtleties. Then she was off the line. Whether it was brief, or for a while, he wasn't sure.
“Hey, hey!” Hand-man exclaimed, hitting Tommy's hand harder now. “Keep your eyes open, Tommy! Come on, hang in there!”
Tommy glared at the man. He didn't need to be told what to do. If he wanted to close his eyes, he'd close his damn eyes! What the hell did it matter anyway?
Suddenly, people were yelling, and sirens could be heard in the distance. A path was being cleared seconds later, and familiar people with actual names dropped beside Tommy.
“Well look at this,” Chimney said, and Tommy made a note that he hid his panic much better than his wife did, “here to save your ass, yet again.”
“I ha- have... I have s- saved your ass a- a bunch,” Tommy deadpanned.
“Yeah, yeah, don't rub it in.”
“He's not wrong though,” Hen agreed, cutting Tommy's shirt open.
Tommy was about to attempt a joke about how he wouldn't have skipped his workout had he known he'd be exposed like this, but he was stopped before he could start.
“Tommy! Tommy!”
Tommy's eyes drifted up as Chimney and Hen continued working on him. “Ev- Evan, I didn't-”
“Shh,” Buck soothed, running his fingers through Tommy's hair. “Don't try and talk, just- just relax, okay?”
And oh, it ran in the family, because Evan was not doing a good job at keeping his tears in his eyes.
“S'okay,” Tommy said. His arm flailed up limply beside him until Buck took it. “S'okay. I- I'm okay, E-” He was cut off by another round of coughing, followed by severe pain, and ten suddenly, everything went black.
*****
Tommy wasn't exactly sure how death worked, but he was fairly certain it didn't involve waking up in a hospital bed.
He groaned as he blinked his eyes open, his body feeling stiffer than it ever had in his life.
“Tommy?”
He looked over to see Evan sitting in the chair beside him, eyes wide and wet. Their hands were tangled together, Evan's knuckles white from the tight grip.
“M- Morning,” Tommy muttered, voice gravelly.
He managed to get a little smile out of Evan with that. “It's actually ten at night.”
“Oh. Sorry for, um, sleeping all day.”
Buck rolled his eyes, letting go of Tommy's hand to grab a cup of water off the tray table.
“Sip,” he instructed, and Tommy obeyed.
“So... not dead, then?” Tommy asked once he was finished with his drink.
Buck sat and took his hand again. “Nope,” he confirmed. “Couldn't let you die by the table of fruitcakes.”
Tommy laughed, wincing when a flash of pain came over him. “Thanks for understanding.”
“Of course.”
“What... What about the other guy?”
“He... He didn't make it,” Buck replied. “I guess you two were, um, st- stabbing each other at the same time?”
“Didn't know he had the second knife,” Tommy said. “I'm not upset h- he's dead though.”
“You shouldn't be. He had a note with him. He was there to kill his ex-wife. Daughter too, then himself.”
“They'll... They'll be okay, won't they?”
Buck smiled. “They've already contacted the hospital. They'd like to visit, when you're up for it.”
Tommy looked down at their hands, giving Buck's a squeeze. “A day or two.”
Buck nodded.
They sat in silence for a moment, Buck rubbing his thumb over Tommy's. “I have a question.”
Tommy shook his head. “Here we go.”
“Why were you at the farmer's market? Alone? On a work day?”
“Are you sure I'm not dead? Positive th- this isn't purgatory?”
“Tommy.”
“I may have told a little, tiny fib about whether or not I could get off work early.”
“Thomas Buckley-Kinard!”
“I wanted to get you some flowers!” Tommy defended. “And I- I was gonna get the house all ready. Make you a special dinner, dessert, th- the whole nine yards.”
“See, this is what happens when we lie.”
“We get stabbed on our second wedding anniversary?”
“Exactly.”
Tommy sighed, pouting out his bottom lip at Buck.
“Don't do that!” Buck whined. “I can't deny your pout!”
“It's because I rarely bring it out. Forgive me, Evan?”
“I can't not forgive you after you got stabbed.”
“It would be very unfair,” Tommy agreed.
Another eye roll and Buck stood, leaning over the bed to press a kiss to Tommy's lips. “I love you, Tommy.”
“I love you too.”
“Don't ever get stabbed again, okay?”
“I'll try,” Tommy promised. “Especially not by the damn fruitcakes.”
The farm has been frozen for years now, and I am the last daughter left. I continue to defend it against all logic, just me and my ice pick, and long nights full of flickering candlelight.
While you were waiting for your partner to join you, you laid the blanket out in the best possible spot. It was near a tree that provided just enough shade for the top half of your face, protecting your eyes while the rest of your body could soak in the sunshine. You knew too much of anything would be bad but you trusted the man you were waiting for would appear soon enough that he’d wake you up.
You dream of cats, and head pats, and the affection you feel for the dream runs deep. You’re so absorbed that you think a cat is nuzzling against your face, leaving a soft, slightly cold kiss against your skin. They’re so light that you might even think they were a bug, eyes opening quickly as the panic breaks you from your daydream.
You’re met with dazzling green eyes, your hands reaching up to hold either side of his face. His smile was always so sweet, your body relaxing instantly as the sensation is discovered.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you…” He mumbled, nuzzling against your hands like a cat seeking attention. “You looked cute…”
“I don’t mind if that’s how you always wake me up.” You ushered him back down, pleased when he takes the hint to leave a trail of gentle kisses all over your face, anywhere he could reach.
If all he had to do to make you happy was kiss you, he thinks he might be the luckiest man in the world.
Isa glances beside him at the redhead as he admires the sunset. Isa would much rather watch Lea; he’s far more fascinating. Just as colourful. The soft breeze has undone a few wisps of Lea’s hair, causing them to frame his face. To point out his freckles. Almost like a maze. Or a map. Guiding him to those brilliant green eyes that somehow look softer in the glowing light of the setting sun. He no longer looks so tired. He looks content. More than content. Isa smiles gently before reaching out towards Lea. He brushes a lock of hair behind his ear, causing Lea to close his eyes and smile at the touch. When he opens his eyes next, those green orbs are on Isa. Good. He has his full attention. Isa has nothing in particular to say; he just wanted Lea to look at him. And now he is with the most loving gaze. A gaze that burns Isa’s cheeks, the sensation trailing down to his chest. Hot enough to melt his heart.
