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Tommy can’t do this. Not now. Not after everything they’ve been through. “How could you hide this from me?” Tommy asks, letting the anger and worry he’s feeling seep into his tone. He doesn’t care how fucked up he sounds. His hands are slippery with Evan’s blood. The smell of iron is heavy in the air, coating his tongue with the taste of it. It burns his nostrils. “I’m s-sorry.” Buck says, blood slipping past his lips. “Had to make y-y-you safe first.” “Fuck!” Tommy shakes his head, pressing his hands harder against Buck’s side, the wound bleeding sluggishly. “We don’t have anything to…” Carol is busy looking through their supplies, combing through the cabin, trying to find something to help, something that can treat this wound. They have to get the bleeding to stop.“Come on, you can’t do this to me.” Tommy finds himself saying, leaning down to press his forehead against Evan’s. “I can’t lose you.” “I-I love you.” Evan says, his hand covering Tommy’s. “S-so much.” Carol takes hold of his shoulder, looking down at him with sympathy. It’s clear in her eyes that there’s nothing they can do. Nothing.“Baby,” Evan says quietly, his voice coming out in a wheeze. “You need to let me go, I’m sorry.” “I can’t.” Tommy replies, just as quietly. He’s not about to stop putting pressure on the wound, he can’t. There’s no way he’s letting Evan die. Not after everything he’s already lost. “Please.” Tommy begs, his throat clogged with tears. “Please, don’t go.” “I’m cold.” Evan whispers, his tremoring hand prying Tommy’s off of the wound in his side. “I’m dying, baby.” “No.” Tommy shakes his head, putting more pressure on the wound. “You can’t.” “Kiss me.” Evan demans quietly. “Kiss me goodbye.” Tommy forcibly swallows down the urge to scream in anguish. He doesn’t want to lose Evan. This is the love of his life. He obeys the demand. He would never deny Evan a kiss. He leans down, pressing their mouths together in a desperate kiss, squeezing his eyes shut when Evan’s kiss is weak, a barely there pressure against his lips. He knows. Evan is dying. Putting pressure on the wound isn’t helping at this point.There’s nothing they can do to save him. He lets go, dragging Evan into his arms, holding him to his chest, pressing their foreheads together. He kisses him again, ignores the urge to cry. He doesn’t want the last thing that Evan sees to be Tommy crying over him. “I love you.” Tommy tells him, sniffling. “I love you so much.” Evan doesn’t reply. He feels his last breath fanning across his face. He leans down, capturing it in a kiss. Evan’s mouth is slack, his body still. His pulse is gone. He cries, dragging Evan deeper into his arms. “I can’t.” He’s startled by a hand squeezing his shoulder. “Tommy, you have to-”Tommy wrenches his shoulder out of Daryl’s grip. “Just leave me alone.”“I can’t do that.” Daryl replies, taking a step back, his arms lamely at his sides. “He wouldn’t want you to die.” “And I don’t give a shit.” Tommy replies, pressing Evan’s face into his neck, looking up at Daryl. “Just leave me here, with him. I’m dying, too.”“Can’t do that.” Daryl says, taking a step closer. Tommy shakes his head. “I’m not fucking leaving him.” There’s nothing to live for. He leans his forehead against Evan’s again, weeping openly, his shoulders shaking with every sob that comes out of him. “Tommy.” Carl. Tommy shakes his head, refusing to look up at the kid. “Please, just go outside.” Tommy begs quietly, keeping his eyes closed. “You don’t want to see it.” “Please.” Carl begs, his voice fragile. He’s been through so much. Tommy shakes his head. “Let me do it.” Carl says, determination in his tone. “Buck wouldn’t want you to die like this. He’d want you to live. My mom wanted me to live.” That’s not fair, Tommy thinks, finally looking up at him. Carl reaches for his knife. “Let me do it for you, Tommy.” “No.” Tommy shakes his head, cradling Evan’s head. “You sh-shouldn’t.” “Come on, Tommy.” Carl steps into the embrace, hugging him, Evan’s body be damned, and Tommy breaks even further. “Don’t make me lose you, too.” And Tommy can’t do it. He shakes his head even more, not letting go. “You can bury him.” Carl tells him softly, and before Tommy knows what’s happening, Carl has already pushed his knife into the back of Evan’s skull, painting Tommy’s hand with more of his blood. Tommy breaks even further.He doesn’t even know how long he’s laying there, clutching Evan’s dead body, all he knows is when he starts to drag Evan’s body out, the sky is dark. Everyone is huddled around a fire. Tommy doesn’t spare them a glance. He gently lowers Evan’s body onto the ground, walking back to the cabin for a shovel. He wants to do it here. Evan liked nature, so what better place to be buried? Next to an old pretty fishing cabin, surrounded by trees and wildlife. It’s cold out, but he doesn’t feel it. His nostrils sting with it. He starts digging. The rhythm of it starts to soothe after a few minutes. The movement of digging, pushing down into the dirt, throwing it behind him. “You want some help?” Daryl asks, leaning back against the tree. A cigarette dangles from his mouth, unlit. “I can take over.” “No.” Tommy says, knowing how dull he sounds. He’s doing this himself. Evan deserves that. Daryl doesn’t leave his spot, doesn’t broach a subject. He simply stands there, a quiet but supportive presence. Tommy can appreciate that, even in all this darkness. Evan’s body is cold to the touch. His clothes are messy, covered in sweat and blood, and it’s not the kind of outfit Tommy would want him buried in. He climbs out of the grave, walking back into the cabin. He roots around in the stuff he can find, looking for something better than the outfit Evan’s currently in. He finds a white shirt, flannel, but it’s better than what he has on currently. He grabs the comb he finds under a stack of collapsed shelves. Nobody has dared disturb Evan’s body, or the grave, all of them giving him space, which he’s deeply thankful for. Most of them are still awake, even though it’s the middle of the night, even Carl, who sits next to Michonne, leaning into her side with a sleeping Judith in his arms. Tommy gently removes Evan’s upper clothes, the ones destroyed by a bullet wound, peeling them away from the wound. He can’t look at it directly, doesn’t want to see the ruin that claimed his boyfriend’s life. Eddie’s necklace lays against Evan’s collarbone. Tommy almost grabs it for himself, but then he remembers Evan’s words when he’d taken it, before Tommy helped him put it on. He’s not removing it. This way, Evan and Eddie are at rest together. He can hope they are together, at least. He dresses Evan in the white flannel, his hands surprisingly steady as he does up the buttons, combs his hair, makes sure it’s presentable enough. Tommy looks down at Evan’s face, his face surprisingly peaceful, and thumbs softly across his cold cheek. He leans down, pressing a long kiss to his birthmark. He doesn’t know any prayers. He hasn’t been religious since his father murdered his mother in front of him, but he wishes he knew one now, if only to say it for Evan. Tommy pulls away, and he can’t help but press one more kiss to his lips. A closed mouthed goodbye. Then he lowers Evan down into the grave, and he starts to bury him.