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And it's not that car accidents don't happen, it's just. Well.
It's just that when Tom got home from school, he dumped his backpack on the table and yelled at Murph when she asked for homework help and sulked in his room for an hour because someone had asked where his dad was and if he was dead like his mom for the millionth time, and, well. He just laughed at their stupid jokes when Murph would have flared up like a burning straw to a bonfire.
Car accidents are common as the cold, if not for the way Murph called his name outside his closed door for five minutes straight before giving up. Tom didn't move when the voice went quiet.
And ... maybe Tom would have been the one driving the car if he didn't have Murph to take care of.
(How did he not see this coming? When did he start brushing her off, stop paying attention to how much time she spent alone, stop caring that she stopped bringing food to school?)
Maybe he knew what was happening before the engine started.
Maybe he ran outside faster than he thought possible.
When he pulled her out of the twisted hunk of metal, through the smashed windshield and past the jagged cornstalks that had been crushed into the ditch along with one of her shoes, he hugged her like he hadn't in years. Tight like she was going to run away.
And really, car accidents happen every day, but ... well, she was his sister. With no license and nowhere to go, no job no friends (what had happened to her friends? He'd never asked and he was cursing himself now for those moments lost). She had nothing at all, really, except for brains coming out her ears and a stupid broken brother. He would do anything for her but she kept asking him to bring down the stars. How was he even supposed to begin?
He began by saying her name until she heard it.
Back in the house, with food and water and everything you could need in an apocalypse, Tom looked his baby sister in the eyes and made a promise he could never say out loud. She could take the car and stare at food instead of eating it and the voice outside his door could go quiet but he would never, never let her slip all the way. He would keep her, hold her by an arm and she'd hate it because he could only ever hold her back, but he would pull her out of broken glass for the rest of his life if it meant she stayed alive. Kept burning. Stayed Murph. And he'd do it even if Dad had decided she wasn't worth staying for.
Car accidents happen every day, yeah, but she was his sister.