Tom groaned quietly to himself, finally dropping down onto the edge of Mike's bed. The broken, throbbing part of him needed to believe that, hear it said out loud for affirmation. It didn't fix everything, but what could? He wasn't even hurting over what had been done to him. He pushed his fingers back through his hair, pulling sharply on his roots.

"I've never wanted to hurt anyone this badly in my life," he muttered neurally, no inflection, staring blankly at the wall. 'He told me he fuckin' loved me, and I believed him.' Mouth twisting into a snarl, Tom's nail's dug into the heel of his hand until they left deep, angry marks.

"I raided your ammo today," he added quietly, still staring ahead. "Sorry."