As usual, Tom didn't sleep much that night. He didn't even try to. He just stared at the picture on his nightstand, the one of the four of them, Matt, Tord, himself, and- and Edd. Right in the middle of it all.
Edd, who'd found him on the streets and nursed him back to health. Edd, who'd stared right at who he really was and didn't shy away in fear. Edd, who told him he was worth it, no matter what the voices inside thought. Edd, who found a way to smile even on his death bed. Edd, who he would never see again.
That photo was from back before this living hell started. Before Edd got sick. Before Tord left. Before Matt lost that glimmer of stupid positivity. Before Edd... before Edd died.
That was back when they were just a group of crazy roommates being friends and going on insane adventures together.
Back when they were happy.
Tom stared at it until he couldn't take it anymore. He reached out with one hand to turn it face down and rolled over.

Sometime around when the sun was beginning to come up, he finally fell asleep. Not a peaceful sleep mind you, but sleep. He woke up with a terrible ache, centered around his head. Anger stirred through his bones, pushing them to groan and creak.
He sat up quickly, black eyes wide with horror. Reaching to his desk side, he grabbed hold of his flask and practically poured it's entire contents down his throat. The pain receded.
Tom laid back down with a heavy sigh and clutched his hand into a fist inside his hoodie pocket.
He just laid there for a while, eyes closed, mouth pressed in a tight line. He wasn't sure how long it had been, but suddenly he was very tired all over again.

He was awoken from his nap by the sound of loud knocking on the front door.
That was odd. They didn't get many visitors up here anymore. It must be one of Matt's med school friends, though that didn't make much sense either. He'd graduated med school a year ago and there was no longer a need for classmates to come over for study sessions.
It had been a good day, the day Matt had graduated. He had that old spark back in his eyes again. That slight tone of worry that had laced his every word since Edd died was no present then. Tom himself had smiled genuinely for the first and last time since his depression had come back.
Tord had been there too. It was one of the only times he'd visited them in the past two years. They'd smiled and laughed and drank for reasons other than to numb the pain and emptiness. They were all together again. Except Edd wasn't there. It was just like old times, when they were all simply roommates being close friends and going on crazy adventures together. Except Edd wasn't there.
It was fun. Except Edd was gone.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps running from down the hall and stairs. Matt's voice called out that he'd answer the door in 'just a minute.' Tom could hear him pulling up his hood, frantically hurrying to pop open his purple umbrella in an attempt to keep himself out of the sunlight when he opened the door.
Finally, he heard the door click open. Familiar yet foreign laughter filled his ears.
Tom sat up. No. It couldn't be. He had left them.
That bright, friendly voice with the touch of a Norwegian accent, all too terribly familiar spoke up.
"Hello old friend!"
It was him. It was Tord. He was back. But why?
Matt's voice laughed nervously. Tom could practically see the grin on his face. "Tord! You're here!"
Tord again. "It is good to be back, friend."
"I'm so glad you could make it! We really missed you, especially Tom." Tom frowned. Since when had he said anything about missing Tord? He still disliked him just as much as ever.
The conversation went on like that. Talking, catching up, that kind of thing. That's when his name was brought up again.
"How is Thomas, by the way?" Tord asked casually. Fuck. Matt was going to be honest. He always was. Then Tord would get minorly worried and try to come talk with him and it would be awkward and Tom wouldn't say anything. He couldn't let that happen. He stood up and quietly walked to the door.
Just as Matt uttered the words, "Well he's not good'" Tom creaked open the door and stepped out.
Even though the two of them were downstairs and couldn't possibly hear him come out, Tord spoke immediately. His tone was almost friendly in a 'I-know-you're-there-don't-try-to-get-out-of-this' tone.
"Well hello Thomas. Care to join us?"
Tom froze. Double fuck.
For a second, he didn't move. But Tord prompted him again.
"Thomas, I know you're there. Come, sit with us. It's been a while, I would like to catch up."
Tom's stomach twisted into a knot. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to face Tord again. Or Matt, for that matter. He sighed to himself and slowly trudged to the stairs and down the steps, turning and entering the living room.
Matt looked surprised to see he'd actually obayed and smiled brightly. "Tom!"
Tord just scanned him up and down. He stared at the bags under his pitch black eyes, his messy hair that had gone unbridled for who knows how long, his baggy, far too big blue hoodie pulled up to cover his face more, and the grim expression on his face. He seemed to notice how thin Tom had gotten. He frowned. "You look terrible."
Tom rolled his eyes, though because they were all black, it was incredibly hard to tell. "Wow. Thanks." His voice was quiet and his tone emotionless. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to talk.
Tord smiled. "Haha, yes. I mean no offence, my friend. Come, sit!"
Tom reluctantly sat down as far from the other two as possible. "Why are you here and why did you take so much stuff with you?" He stared at the several suitcases of luggage.
Tord simply laughed and shook his head in amusement. "Ah, classic stupid Tom! Didn't you hear? I'm moving back in!"