It's Okay, It's a Strategy (to ensure I remain)

Chapter 17: Symphonies End

TWs- lots of blood, panic attacks(?), vomiting, detailed description of injuries, minor character death(s)

It was cold. There was a certain wetness in the air that only came when someone was underground. Tommy tried to lessen his shivers. Despite his thick hoodie, it felt damp. From condensation or blood, Tommy couldn't tell.

Hannah laid limply on the concrete floor in a pool of her own blood, showing no signs of waking up any time soon.

The walls were closing in on him. He was used to tight spaces- having the occasional alley fight and being pinned in dark corners, you'd think he'd get used to small spaces.

Just because Tommy often found himself in those situations, didn't mean he liked it.

He hated tight spaces with a passion.

And the room he'd been locked up in happened to be fucking tiny.

This sucked.

He didn't know how long he waited. First it was one minute.

Then two.

Then five.

Then seven.

He thinks it's been ten minutes, but it could have very well been longer. He hung there from the prickly vines until black spots danced in his vision and his sight began to get woozy and unstable. He could practically hear the blood rushing through his veins and the dull thud of his heart in his ears.

Despite the rest of his body feeling cold, his head felt extremely warm. He supposed he was probably flushed red from the blood in his head. He could hardly feel his legs. It helped with the pain a bit, but it was more concerning than anything.

It got to the point where Tommy could hardly think straight- and the black spots that danced and paraded around in his vision grew even larger. It was then Tommy remembered that being in a position where blood rushing to your head for a prolonged period of time could actually kill someone- and he panicked a bit.

He couldn't exactly wriggle without the thorns cutting deeper into his legs, so he settled for curl ups. He pretended to do a regular curl up- just so that his head was level with the ground. It was painstaking- pulling himself up by the muscles in his core- but somehow he managed to do it.

Tommy felt intense relief when the pounding in his head subsided, and the flush on his face cooled down the tiniest bit. He could feel his arms now. That was good.

He was tired. Not mentally this time.

All he wanted to do was let sleep pull him into her hold and embrace him tightly, never letting go. An exhaustion-less sleep, a sleep that would guarantee him to be well rested in the morning.

He couldn't sleep. Blood loss would take its toll, and Tommy didn't want to leave yet.

So he kept his eyes opened and waited. Waited for either Bad to come back, or the heroes to help rescue him.

Hannah still hadn't woken up.

The Egg was there next to him, and Tommy could almost feel it's frustration from where he was hanging. Frustration from not being able to capture Tommy in its snare, frustration from not being able to communicate with him.

That's one thing he had going for him. Despite being horribly beat up and hanging from a bunch of vines, The Egg couldn't affect him. It kept him going, knowing that The Egg couldn't corrupt him.

He assumed it had something to do with his power. As long as it's blocking The Egg from his mind, he didn't care how his power was doing this. All he knew, was that he's safe from The Egg.