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so don't throw away this thing we had
clay and tommy hang out one last time
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Clay's graduating later this week.

They're going to hang out later today. Tommy doesn't get to hang out with Clay much, anymore; he's busy with graduation prep. Sometimes in the alchemy lab, but mostly drilling in the seniors-only section of the gym, which Tommy can barely even be mad about it because Clay's so fucking cool; he pulls off stunts that turn heads, not just getting to the end but showing off, parkouring around the course with Nick and George and the rest of them while chanting under his breath, making it look easy and fun instead of a death trap. All of Tampa's seniors are quickly becoming a well-oiled team, but Clay--Clay's the star, and he knows it. It reminds Tommy of watching Terrence, before the Scholomance. He had dreamed of being that good, one day.

But today Tommy doesn't go to the gym to watch Clay; he goes to his room.

The first thing he does is poke at his shoes with a needle and thread, nominally because they've got a big hole in them but mostly because he should be building mana for Clay.

Only for fifteen minutes, though. He doesn't care that much.

When he dies, he doesn't want everyone looting his room like they did with Wilbur. That was--he had stood by Wilbur, until the end. Nobody stood by him, except Clay. They don't get to have his things. So he sorts his items into two piles, which he mentally labels TO BE USED TODAY and TO BE HIDDEN OR DESTROYED.

TO BE USED TODAY: Toby's water bottle, his spare tokens, a couple of peanut butter cups still left over from the party-that-wasn't, the clothes on his back, the blanket on his bed, the shoes on his feet, his mana storage.

TO BE HIDDEN OR DESTROYED: his abandoned attempt at a knife, Phukkit, Over the Rainbow and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, his music box, one pen, his baby blanket, the unfinished draft of How to Sex 3, Linda, Alex's rosary, some half-started attempts at final projects and essays.

It's not very much. It all fits under his pillow. Before he dies, he can throw it all in the void, along with Toby's water bottle and the clothes on his back.

Henry and Shroud give him pause. They're--well, they're alive. He shouldn't kill them just because nobody else deserves them. So they can be a third pile. It works out, anyway; Clay would notice and get suspicious if his room was too empty.

He says goodbye to each of the items in the second pile, plays Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and then switches the cylinders and plays Over the Rainbow. He apologizes to How to Sex 3 for not finishing it. He apologizes to all of them, as a group, for throwing them into the void, which he hasn't done yet but probably will. He's probably throwing himself in the void too, so it's equality, but he gets it if that doesn't really feel any better, especially since he's putting them all under a pillow first.

When the time comes, he brings all his tokens to meet Clay at the snack bar. Clay's bringing all his tokens, too; no point in saving them for later anymore. Neither of them have any future left in here.

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"Hey, Tommy!"

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"Hey."

There's a pause. When the silence stretches out for too long: "I brought tokens."

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"That's great! I did too, not a ton or anything because, y'know, I've been sharing with Nick and George, but. Want to head back to your room after? It's safer."

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"It doesn't matter." He starts feeding their shared tokens in.

A bag of oreo cookies.

A plastic bottle of vitamin water.

A stingy handful of apparently shiny lemon drops.

A bowl of ramen noodles, crumbling with age.

A 12oz can of plum-a-granate sierra mist, with no visible date.

A packet of maple candy, at least fifty years old.

A can of bully beef that looks like it dates back a hundred years.

A single handful of unfortunately dusty yogurt-covered marshmallows.

A fortune cookie.

(Everything gets given to Clay on autopilot.)

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Which works out, given that Clay's the one of them with an actual bag and not just pockets. He passes Tommy the last of the tokens, recieving in return some trail mix and dry cereal, and then Tommy is done receiving dubious food items.

"I mean, I'd rather be safer, so. Let's head back."

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"You're the boss." His room's not that far, anyway. "You know, this reminds me of, like--I used to take candy and shit and go over to Wilbur's and we would eat it all before they caught us. Pretty sure we gave Phil a heart attack a few times but Terrence thought it was funny. I mean, not that he'd admit to thinking it was funny, but he covered for us and called it practice or whatever."

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"Really?" They're at Tommy's room; he puts his bag down, starts laying the food out on the floor.

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Tommy puts one hand on his chest, holds three fingers on his other hand up. "Really. Scout's honor."

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"It's just--it's Terrence. It's so weird to me that you, like, knew him."

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That earns a smile and an exaggerated hair flip. "I'm kind of a big deal."

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Clay grabs the dry cereal and the vitamin water, shoves some of the candy towards Tommy. "Eat."

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"I don't have an appetite. Besides, you need it more."

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Shrug. "Fine, more for me."

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"Yeah, because I'm so jealous of your....expired cinnamon toast crunch with purple soda? That just sounds--mmm mmm, delicious, exactly the combination I've been craving."

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"Oh, shut up, Tommy, I've seen the things you've eaten."

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"But you don't see all the things I don't eat. I could be so much worse."

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"I guess. I mean, I've seen Nick and George, you can't get that much worse."

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"Never doubt my power. Is cereal good with soda?"

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"It's fine? It's not like I'm using it like milk."

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"Yeah, but it's the same thing, innit? 'Cause it gets all mixed up once you eat it anyway."

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"I am, like... 99% certain that is not how that works."

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"No, it is." He goes to put a yogurt-covered marshmallow in the enclosure with Shroud and Henry, then pauses. "Do you know if spiders have, like, allergies? Like dogs and chocolate."

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"I don't think so? I mean, they live in houses all the time. I think they mostly eat bugs, though. And, uh, yours eat mana, I guess.

Did--when Terrence got out, did he have any familiars?"

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"You're like--you're such a middle school girl at a sleepover. Oh, oh, Terrence, tell me about Terrence!"

(He did. He had practically a whole zoo of familiars, by the time it was Tommy's induction; dogs and foxes mostly, Steve and Fool and Hubert and Bob and Edward and Blitz and Apollo and Jonathan Swift and who even knows how many unnamed strays, but also a turtle that Toby named after himself, and two horses, Andrew and Carl, not to mention Tommy's pretty sure some of Phil's crows ended up attached to him, and--

--Tommy's not thinking about how he isn't going to see any of them ever again. He's not.)

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Eyeroll. “I am not. You're such a--you're such a child."

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Tommy twirls his hair with one hand, puts on an exaggerated falsetto and American accent. "I'm Clay and I think George is, like, sooooo hot, do you think he liiiikes me?"

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"Shut up. If this is a sleepover that at least means pillow fights are fair game, right?" He grabs the pillow, and--

--

"Tommy."

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"...What? Clay, are you okay, do you want me to--" He puts his hand out tentatively.

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"Tommy. You hid things, you hid things! You hid a knife under your pillow so that I couldn't take it."

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"Look, look, you can have these too, I was going to give them to you--" He empties the mana crystals from his pockets, offers them.

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"I wouldn't have found out about it! How long, how long have you been lying to me--"

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"I didn't think about-- I thought-- I'm really sorry--"

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"You hadn’t thought about what? You think about everything, Tommy!"

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"Well, I thought it was, well, no, I’m, I’m really sorry, I thought-- I'm so sorry-- what are you doing--"

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"Tommy. Watch." He picks up the knife and throws it into the void, then picks up Alex's rosary.

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"WHOAAA, STOP IT, STOP IT, stop, please, I'm really sorry, I wasn't-- Clay, I'm so sorry, please, I was only doing it because-- that's Alex's, please--"

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"Tommy, I thought we were friends! And you were-- you were lying to me!" Rosary goes in the void.

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"We are friends! You're my best friend! How was I-- How was I lying!"

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"What do you mean, why were you lying? You hid things, knowing they were things I wouldn’t want you to have. And you hid it in a way that way I would never find it, and the only reason I would have found it, was because I happened to, to grab your pillow."

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"Stop it, stop it, man. I’m so sorry, I’m so-- can we not just, can we not just chat? Please? Can we not just--hang out and say goodbye, like we were going to?"

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"Listen, Tommy. You have to listen to me. You have to learn to listen."

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"I, I have learned to listen-- I did, stop!"

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"Tommy." He points at the bed, at the small pile of items still in a heap. "Don't do that. This whole thing happened for a reason, I did it for a reason and Toby did it for a reason, and you didn’t listen. You didn’t listen to the rules. The rules were simple! I just wanted your mana and your weapons! And I even let you keep your mana sometimes, and I even gave you mana storage, but you just had to try and defy me, keeping a secret stash. What were you even planning to do? You had a knife, were you going to try and kill me or something?"

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"What-- No!!!!! Clay, I, I wasn't--"

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"And how am I supposed to know you're telling the truth now?"

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"I wasn't even planning on, I'm, I wasn't planning on going for much longer-- I mean, I was going to-- it’s not your fault, it’s just because, you know-- I mean, it's my fault, it's because I've been doing this for so, you know--"

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Clay's voice has a fond eyeroll in it. "Tommy. You would never actually... You know. You'll be fine. I'll leave some stuff for you with... I dunno, with Tina or whoever."

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"I’m really sorry, though. Why don’t we just pretend this never-- yeah, let’s, shall we just pretend this never happened?"

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"Sorry doesn't cut it, Tommy. Most of these things-- most of these things I wouldn't have even taken! But you had to hide them from me." Phukkit and Linda are getting thrown in the void. "I've been lenient with you, because I thought--I thought you had gotten better, I thought you had changed, became someone who isn't going to hide and steal and lie. I have been nothing but gracious to you."

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"I'm so... I'm so sorry."

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"Sorry isn't good enough, Tommy." He picks up Shroud and Henry's enclosure. "You see this? I made this for you. Because I thought we were friends."

He throws it, as hard as he can, into the void.

"I'm going. I'll see you again tomorrow. Think about what you did."

 

The door slams.

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More desperate words--pleas and apologies both--die on Tommy's lips.

 

He did--he did mean it. He is sorry.

He does another inventory. He still has the music box and both cylinders. He has his pen, and his baby blanket, and How to Sex 3, and homework, and the water bottle covered in drawings. He has eight snacks and a vitamin water, scattered on the floor. He puts everything but the snacks in his pockets.

He doesn't have Shroud and Henry anymore. It's almost comforting. It'll be... Easier, like this.

He already knew he was going to lose his only friend today. He just didn't expect--

 

He's such a fucking idiot. Clay's done so much for him, he would visit him, every day, and they would laugh and cry, and he ruined his chance to say goodbye.

You have to get a running start and use magic, to die in the void and not just bounce back. He's not sure what he'd do, if he had a void ceiling. Figure it out, maybe. But he doesn't, he has a void wall, and so he faces it and backs up.

He's alone. Clay's not his friend anymore. Even if he was, he's graduating later this week. There's nobody left.

The only thing he can think of when he runs is the last thing Clay said. See you again tomorrow. Now he won't. He won't see him ever again. He said he'd see him tomorrow--they were friends--he thought they were friends--he's coming to see him tomorrow--why? they aren't friends anymore--they aren't friends--see you again tomorrow--

 

--He's in the void. It feels... strange. He starts chanting a barrier.

 

He remembers something from... The first day, maybe, or the second. 

You don't listen to me ever, you’re the only person who doesn’t ever listen to me.

And today.

You have to listen to me.

 

He doesn't, actually, have to listen. They aren't friends. They were never friends.

 

He stops chanting. He turns around and runs back out. 

 

Clay is graduating later this week. He can hide in the library for a week, only come back to his dorm to sleep, he'll miss his finals but that's fine, he was going to miss his finals anyway from fucking dying. At least this way he has a chance. He needs to fix his clothes--and his shoes--well, he has a week to kill anyway. He's got food.

 

He gathers the food up into a little pile, then thinks twice, grabs the lemon drops and puts them all in his mouth and immediately regrets it, but it's fine, it's fucking great.

Clay is graduating later this week. He just has to stay alive until then. He runs to the library, taking the stairs two at a time, and he believes that the library has a short pathway far away from Clay, and so it does, and he believes that there's a surprisingly safe-from-mals spot nearby, and so there is. He'll have to be a little raccoon boy for a while, hiding from Clay, maybe pickpocketing people if they come by, but that's fine, he's great at that, he's feeling good. His brain's fucking expanding and shit, he's like--who's the cleverest person he knows--not Clay, he's not like Clay. He's fucking gone.

See you again tomorrow.

Ha. He's not going to see Clay ever again.

 

He has his music box and he has two cylinders and he's got himself and he's not going to let go of any of those ever again.