Enjoy the angst. Whether you see it as TomTord is up to you, considering I am neutral about TomTord.

When Tom started working for the Red Leader, he saw someone who was unrecognizable.

That professional front. The way he spoke. His voice was raspy and deep, his accent very thick-it was better to just learn Norwegian and have him talk clearly then try to decipher his slurred English words.

He was considerably taller too. The large blue and red trench coat cloaked his body. He had a thick red sweater underneath, black pants, and matching combat shoes. He seemed... larger somehow, like Edd was on Photoshop and enlarged small pictures.

The scars that marred his face were impossible to not notice. They were deep and discolored, stretching across his face as a painful reminder of what happened years ago.

Tom didn't see the Tord in him anymore, so, in his mind, he created a whole person-someone that wasn't Tord.

It made it a tiny bit better.

Tom moved up the ranks quickly, and soon became Red Leader's secretary, and was respected across the Red Army. Hand-picked by the Red Leader himself, he was to be by him everywhere he went, even to the point of guarding his room to make sure nothing happened. If something did happen, he was allowed clearance to enter any place possible-even if it was restricted-in order to help him.

This situation didn't help Tom at all. And not because of the extremely busy schedule.

One night, he was standing guard to Red Leader's room when he heard a scream from inside his room. It was faint due to the soundproof walls, which meant that it was extremely loud.

When Tom burst into the room yelling: "Red Leader! Are you okay?!" He was chilled to the bone. That scream was one of excruciating pain and regret.

Tom froze.

Nothing was wrong.

The Red Leader was sitting on his bed in a hunched position. He slowly turned around.

"Brigadier General, what are you doing?" He said coldly.

Tom clammed up. "I heard a scream, and was worried something had happened, sir!"

"Shut the door."

"Yes, sir," Tom went to walk out.

"Stay here, and close the door," he hissed.

Tom jumped and closed the door.

"Of course... Sir."

The Red Leader's voice made Tom flinch with guilt.

"Why?"

Tom turned around. "What?"

"Why... Why did..."

Tom thought he was going to say: "Why did you shoot me with the harpoon?"

What he really said was far from it.

"Why did I have to carry that plan out," the Red Leader choked out.

Tom's digital pupils grew small with horror.

"I could have... Why did I..."

Tom heard choked sobs and made his way over to the Red Leader.

"Tom... I'm..." The name "Tom" sounded foreign on the Red Leader's lips.

Tom sat on his bed and wrapped his arms around the Red Leader, and buried his face in his shoulder.

"The past is the past..."

"...Tord."

Tom heard a quiet "thank you" and smiled.

He did his job with infinitely more vigor from then on, and the Red Leader looked the tiniest bit more lively.

While the words remained unspoken, they both knew what it meant.