When the apocalypse really hit, Tommy was out shopping with his family. The apocalypse probably started around the end of March, but it didn’t really hit the streets until mid-April, when the disease began spreading like wildfire after a mistake in the lab had infected a scientist before finally spreading past them once people went to check on their disappearance. He was confident in saying that nobody was prepared for what came barely a week later. The blond had finally allowed himself to believe he’d found his permanent family. When his foster father finally offered him adoption papers on his birthday, barely a month before the trip, he’d been over the moon about it and sobbed for hours, although he would later deny it.
He was ecstatic, practically vibrating with excitement every time it was brought up. He even managed to make a few friends, and they all planned to go camping once summer hit, something Tommy had never been able to do. Tommy had finally found his home, after spending his entire life in the foster system and being tossed from house to house and torn from person to person.
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