wanted most - tracob

twenty

Jacob was in danger, and that was the only thing on his mind as adrenaline sent him flying into Nick Grimshaw. He heard the shots ring out, and he felt the burn. He could barely make out shouting voices over the roar in his ears that followed the stinging pain in his right side. But it was like he was sinking, sinking in water and he couldn't get to the surface. The cold water he sank into felt nice, took away the burning. Yet a large hand kept pressure on his side, touched his face, his neck. It kept him from sinking, and even though the burn was still present, the large hand was comforting and it wasn't dark. Troye quite liked the large hand.

The large hand eventually left him, and more hands grabbed him where he was jostled and jolted and poked with things. They weren't gently keeping him from sinking, they were yanking him to surface by the spot that burned most. He didn't like whoever had him, but luckily for him, they took pity on him and sent him into a dark, lonely, sleep. It wasn't as nice as the large hand, but it was better than the pain.

When he woke up, it was because a bright light filtered through his eyelids, and he wanted to roll over and hide his face into Jacob's chest, wanted to go back to sleep. But he didn't feel the larger man curled around him, and he reminded himself, he must've had to work. Yet, a hand squeezed his, and he wanted to open his eyes but they simply felt glued shut. The hand in his wasn't large like Jacob's and it didn't feel right, but he squeezed back, gurgling out in a horrid sounding voice, "Egghead... Jacob, cuddle with me."

"Troye?" and Troye stiffened, because that wasn't Jacob's voice. That was a woman's voice. "Troye, baby..."

Troye's eyes finally flew open. The ceiling was not Jacob's ceiling, the bed was not Jacob's, and he was hooked up to wires, machines, had something in his nose, and wheezed hoarsely, "Oh God- Jacob, help- where is he?!"

"Shh, Tro, Tro..." the hands moved the grab his face while one was suddenly holding his arm firmly but gently. "He's at work, probably, baby he'll be here later on this evening. You're not in danger. You're safe."

"Is he okay?" Troye gasped. His chest hurt badly and he couldn't catch his breath, but to make matters worse panic was pressing down on his chest like a large weight. "Jacob-!"

"Look at me..."

Troye finally stopped clenching his eyes closed, stopped clenching every muscle and making his chest scream and his airways constrict. He peeked at the person who held his face, his eyes falling on familiar tear filled brown eyes, brown hair, and his chest tightened up further if it were possible, "M-Mummy?"

"Hi, baby," she gave a teary smile. "It's been awhile..."

"Mum!" Troye croaked, hardly able to believe his mum was holding his hand and petting his hair. They hadn't talked or seen one another in over a year. Troye had been several months past twenty when he left his mother's house. His mother had a decent job, Troye was only in the way and taking up space. He had a job and could help pay bills and buy groceries, but as an adult it bothered him that he lived in his mum's house while he should have his own home. But he wanted to do something for someone. And so that night, the night he wrote a simple note telling his mum not to worry while he was gone, was the first night he stole, and the Sunday following was the day he found Tina and the kids to give the money to.

"We've missed you..." she sniffled. "I'm so glad you're alright."

It hit Troye hard, then, all that he had done. His mother had to have been so disappointed in him, and he croaked out with his sore throat as his mother leaned and kissed his forehead like he was made of glass, squeezed his hands, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, I was bad. I'm not a good person, mum, I- I stole so much-"