Home is not a house

Chapter 41

Tw for this chapter: Mention of Suicide, overdose, abuse, rape

"You promise?" Tommy asks and she nods. "Okay."

They sit there for a moment as the car heated up. As it did Tommy woke up more, his brain becoming less and less unscrambled.

He now fully knew what he did, knew how he fucked up, and knew how upset people were going to be.

"Oh fuck, I fucked up." Tommy mumbles, putting his head in his hands. Puffy chuckled softly.

"Maybe a little bit. But I promise it's going to be fine." Puffy said, sniffling slightly. Tommy looked over at her.

"Were you crying?" He asks confused and she nods.

"Yes I was worried about you! I knew where you were and it's sad knowing where you were." Puffy says and Tommy gives her a look.

"I didn't know it would upset you." He says and she looks away from her.

"Well it did." She mumbled, looking towards her window and wiping her nose with her sleeve.

"I'm sorry." Tommy mumbles looking down at the floor. They sat in silence for a few moments as the heat truly became heat. Tommy grimaced when he noticed how wet his clothes were.

"Can I ask you something?" Puffy questions and Tommy nods, confused on why Puffy was acting a bit different tonight.

"Of course." Tommy mumbles and she nods, turning back to look at him.

"What is so important that you had to see her today? Why did you have to run away tonight?" Puffy questioned and Tommy rolled his eyes.

"Because she fucking died today Puffy, 12 years ago today she died." Tommy scoffed. He didn't look at her but sat there with his arms folded like a pouty kid.

"Tommy she didn't die on Christmas." Puffy said and Tommy stared at her.

"What?" Tommy asked, confused out of his mind.

"I told you this a while ago, do you not remember?" She asks but he shakes his head. "It might have been during a dissociation episode." She mumbled and Tommy didn't drop his gaze from her.

"What are you talking about Puffy?" Tommy questions and she sighs.

"Your mom didn't die on Christmas. We found you on Christmas, but she didn't die on Christmas. When we found her she had to be dead for a week. How you surivived on your own in a drug den at 3 years old we don't know, but she was gone." Puffy explains and Tommy tries to process the information.

"What?" He questioned, and she sighed again.

"She died from an overdose, and you were just there. We only found you on Christmas because someone was coming over for a holiday party at the next apartment over, and they heard you crying. They knocked for ten minutes before they called 911." Puffy explains, reaching towards the back seat and grabbing a blanket. She threw it over Tommy.

"I don't want this." Tommy mumbles, trying to push the blanket away but Puffy slapped his hand lightly.

"You're freezing. Use the blanket Thomas." She tells him and she sits back normally. "Police got there and found her dead, but found you in the living room. You were crying, you had a full diaper, and you were hungry and dirty. They took you out of there. They let you grab one thing to get you stop crying and you grabbed the blanket."

"I remember her giving me the blanket, it was a gift from her on Christmas Eve, she couldn't have been dead for a week if I remember her giving it to me for Christmas Eve. She had blonde hair and green eyes." Tommy tells her but Puffy shakes her head.