Hey guys! This is Flower1815 here, bringing you a new chapter of My little test subject! Now I don't know if I made it clear before, but this is a Tomtord story, with a bit of Paultrick on the side. It just doesn't have the generic cute, fluffy and romantic scenes of an ordinary ship-fic. After all, this is an angst fic not a romantic one. Also, if you were to go back to the previous chapter you'll find I put on extra warning tags, because I realized I was going into touchy subject matters I had no intention of going before writing this chapter, so now the story is going a little darker than originally intended.
So that's it, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, have a nice day, and I'll se ya all later! ;)
Heavy footsteps echoed throughout the corridor as a hooded figure ascended the stairs to his apartment. Stopping on the second floor, he walked off the stairs, following near the end of the corridor and stopping in front of a door. He pulled out the keys from his hoodie pocket and unlocked the door, stepping in to his apartment and instinctively turning on the lights. However, the lights were already on and he was met with quite the unexpected sight.
His best friends, Matt and Edd, were sitting upright on his couch with their hands neatly folded over their laps; as if they were waiting for him or something. "Hey Tom!" Edd greeted him with his usual friendliness, but there was something heavy etched in his tone of voice that made Tom think something may not be quite right.
Tom raised one eyebrow in confusion, as he closed the door with his foot. "Um, hey guys." He greeted back, feeling awkward about the unexpected visit. "What are you doing here? And how did you get in here anyway?" He questioned them.
"Oh, Matt and I just came in for a visit but you weren't home, so we decided to wait around here for you." Edd explained, glancing at Matt and nudging his shoulder. "We also used the spare key you keep hidden underneath the fire extinguisher. Isn't that right, Matt?"
"Oh yeah." Matt confirmed, smiling widely. Bu it seemed rather forced, and his eyes keep casting downwards.
Tom didn't voice his suspicion just yet, he decided to play along for now. He sighed. "Guys I know we live right next to each other, and we agreed to meet up whenever we want; but I would appreciate a little warning next time." He told them, walking past the living room into the kitchen.
"I'm sorry." Edd apologised, rubbing the back of his head in discomfort. "I didn't realize we would bother you."
Tom opened up his fridge and pulled out a bottle of Smirnoff. "Nah it's fine." He answered back from the kitchen. "Just send me a text message or call me next time you plan to do it."
"Oh yeah, right, of course!" Edd exclaimed. "I'll keep that in mind next time."
Tom, with the bottle in his hand, walked out the kitchen back into the living room. He stared at Edd and Matt with an expressionless face. "Okay, so how about you go on and tell me the real reason why you're here?" He questioned, surprising both of them. "You two aren't the best in keeping secrets or acting natural, so stop beating around the bush and get it over with. I want to watch TV."
Edd and Matt share a long, uncomfortable glance towards one another. Matt shrugged, not knowing what to do, and Edd sighed in defeat, realizing the burden of spilling the beans falls upon his shoulders. "Very well. Tom, we are worried about you." He says, rubbing his left arm with his right hand.
Tom raised an eyebrow. "What? What are you talking about? I'm perfectly fine!" He argued in confusion.
"Are you?" Edd turned his gaze off the ground directly towards Tom's own eyeless sockets, surprising him in the seriousness he found in his friend's usual upbeat attitude. "We're not stupid Tom, we know about you sneaking out during the night to god knows where."
Tom stiffened at the mention of his nightly outings. They shouldn't know about that. But it sounds like they don't know the entire story, so as long as they don't know the reason why he goes his secret may be safe.
"Have you two been spying on me?" Tom demanded, attempting to divert the conversation from going to the sensitive topic he does not wish to touch upon.
"No need to." Edd crossed his arms, glaring at Tom. "Matt saw you leaving your apartment the other night and he told me about it. Then I kept an eye out for you, no pun intended, and saw you leaving every night for myself."
Tom grit his teeth in annoyance and irritation, shifting his dark gaze onto Matt, who flinched and shrunk under the unwanted attention. Tom turned back to Edd, who was waiting for him to suddenly blurt out and elaborate on his mysterious outings. "Yeah, I've been going out. So what?" Tom scoffed and crossed his arms. "I don't have to explain every single detail of my life to you two; I can keep secrets if I want to!"
Edd was taken back by Tom's mean demeanour. He knows how much he can be rude and mean, but normally that was played for jokes between the three of them. But this attitude was directed at them for real this time. The last time he remembers Tom acting this way towards any of them, was back when he threw a couch through the wall of their old home after he got annoyed with… Edd refused to think about it.
"Tom please, i know how much you value your privacy; and I'm sorry for invading it this way, but I just want to know what's going on with you." Edd pleaded, taking a step closer to the man in the blue hoodie.
"Why do you even want to know so badly anyway?" Tom questioned angrily, pulling out the cork of the bottle still being held in his hands. "Am I not allowed to have a life outside of you two?"
"You can! Of course you can!" Matt piped in, finally speaking. "It's just that, you haven't been acting like yourself these past few months and we're really worried."
Tom was just about to take a sip of his Smirnoff when Matt's words sunk in his head and he pulled the bottle away. They noticed? He tried so hard to keep it hidden from them.
"What do you mean?" Tom asks in a calm tone, succeeding in keeping the panic he was feeling out of his voice.
"You keep distancing yourself away from us, barely laughs and when you do it's forceful, not to mention the large amounts of Smirnoff you drink daily." Edd listed.
"Oh c'mon, I've always drank Smirnoff! That's nothing new" Tom protested.
"Not as much as you drink nowadays." Matt grumbled under his breath, earning a glare from Tom.
"I've seen you coming back home from shopping, and you never bring back any food only Smirnoff bottles." Edd spoke, stepping in front of Matt to divert Tom's attention away from the ginger. "What have you been even eating this whole time?" Edd raised one hand towards Tom, who backed away to keep him from coming into contact.
"I'm fine guys, really, I am!" Tom insisted. "You are worrying over absolutely nothing, and I can assure you there's nothing wrong going on with me." He churned the bottle in his hands before taking a swig at it.
"I thought you might say that…" Edd's voice mumbled quietly before trailing off, waiting for the expected reaction.
Tom stiffened in mid swig after swallowing a whole sip of it, and he ended up choking on the bland flavour. He spat out whatever was left in his mouth and coughed, wiping his mouth in the sleeve of his hoodie. The taste was terrible! It was like he just took a swig of cleaning products blended together to make a bland, tasteless and nasty concoction. This was nothing like the usual Smirnoff he drinks!
After recovering from the foul taste and nearly choking to death, Tom turned the bottle in his hands. His eyes narrowed down and his grip tightened around the bottle as he read the bottle brand.
"Diet?" Tom hissed in disbelief. "What is this crap?! I am sure I bought the regular brand!" Suddenly, a thought popped into his mind as he remembered he is not alone in the room. "No. Surely not. They wouldn't do something like this to him, would they?"
"What have you done?" Tom asks in a calm, icy tone through gritted teeth, glaring dark sockets at his so called "friends".
Edd met his stare with a determined gaze. "Well, since you refuse to properly take care of yourself, and you won't tell us what's wrong; Matt and I decided to change things around here for a bit." He spoke. "So while you were gone to who knows where, we threw out all your Smirnoff bottles, and replaced with diet ones."
Tom didn't respond. He just clutched the bottle tightly in his hand, so much so the bottle shattered in his grip; shards of glass mixed with alcohol slipping through his fingers, cutting him in the process and adding his own blood to the mixture.
Matt shrunk back further into the sofa, watching in fear as his friend fumed with anger.
"What gave you the right to come into my home, uninvited, and replace my stuff!" Tom snarled, pointing a finger at Edd.
"It's for your own good, Tom." Edd defended. "You've been drinking too much and it's getting it to you."
"My own good? How would you like if I did the exact same thing to you?! Uh?" Tom argued. He marched up to Edd and grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie, holding him off the ground. "How about I sneak into your house one night and replace all your cans of cola with diet ones?! I don't think you'll like that very much!"
"Tom, please, we're just trying to help you." Edd pleaded, trying to get Tom's hold off of him and let him down.
"I didn't ask for your help!" Tom put him down harshly back to the ground. "Stay out of matters you don't, and you WON'T, ever understand."
"We could if you would just tell us!" Matt tried to reason.
"It's none of your goddam business, so stay out of it!" Tom snapped, whipping around to face the ginger haired man. He raised his arm above his head and aimed to hit him. Matt yelped and flinched. But the hit never came.
"Tom!" Edd called out. He was gripping Tom's arm with all his strength to stop him from harming their friend. Tom attempted to shake him off, but Edd wasn't letting go.
"Let go of me!"
"Tom stop! This is exactly what we're talking about!" Edd shouted, making Tom stop his struggles and stare back at him with a look of confusion mixed together with anger. "Please, we don't want you to turn out to be like-"
"Like who? Like Tord?" Tom challenged, finishing the sentence for him.
Edd adverted his gaze to the ground at the mention of their former friend. Seeing this reaction, Tom laughed harshly and took the opportunity to shove Edd away from him, taking him completely by surprise.
"Really? You guys still on that?" Tom questioned, taking notice of his friends' guilty expressions. "You would think that after 8 months you would have gotten over him and moved on, but apparently not."
"You nearly hit Matt just now." Edd pointed out, getting up from the ground and slowly approaching Tom with an arm stretched out towards him. "And you've been distancing yourself from us, acting weird and cold, and now you're getting violent! After what happened to Tord, how do you expect us to overlook this and not be concerned?"
When he was close enough, Edd attempted to place his hand upon Tom's shoulder. But he shrugs him off. Edd looked visibly hurt by his action, but Tom swallowed down the guilt, just like he always does, and walks away from them.
"I am nothing like that traitorous, maniac, genocidal communist." Tom hissed, listing off all the bad qualities from the top of his head without struggle.
He sighed in frustration, pinching his nose. "Look, after this crap you pulled on me I'm going to be leaving." He told them, pulling up his hoodie over his head.
"Where you going?" Edd questioned nervously.
Tom glanced back at him. "To a bar, if you must know, to drink real alcohol." He answered emotionless. "Don't expect me back so soon." It was the last thing he said before he walked out of his apartment and slammed the door shut behind him.
He stormed out the building, still fuming with anger and muttering curses under his breath. Rain splattered around him, soaking his hoodie in the process but he gave no mind as he walked down the street.
In the street's corner stands his favourite location, the Mustacheo bar. He often comes here to drink his night away when he has no more bottles of Smirnoff back home. Although Tom finds himself in the exact same situation, he just stares at the bar's sign across the street before walking away. Despite the longing for alcohol burning strongly within him, he knows better than to go there now. Edd and Matt might decide to follow him and would concluded he would go there. He needs to find another place, away from them and his problems where he can drink in peace.
Tom walked for a while. The cold chilly night mixed with the rain made him shiver, and he started to sniff as his nose got stuffy.
"Great, just what I needed. A cold." Tom sarcastically says to himself.
He's been walking for lord knows how long, he just arrived at an unknown part of the city Tom is unfamiliar with, and still no sign of a bar anywhere. "Screw Matt and Edd, I should've just went to Mustacheos' instead." He cursed silently.
Just then, much like a ray of light, hope and warmth, Tom spotted a colourful sign blinking across from him. It was hard to make out the letters in the heavy rain, but as he approached it, Tom could finally read it.
"Roten Fuhrer pub." Tom read in confusion. "Fancy name. Must be French or something." He mumbled to himself as he walked in.
Opening the door, a bell jingle rang out, warning others of his presence. Tom glanced around the place. It's alive with activity. People were drinking many types of alcoholic beverages, playing at the pool table, betting on poker matches, smoking, eating fried portions, laughing and joking, and some were even gambling on slot machines near the back of the establishment. The decoration of the place was a mixture of red, blue and black; but mostly red, with shiny black marble tables and benches, and blue carpet coating the entire floor.
Tom stared wide eyed. "I'm in heaven." He murmured quietly in disbelief. He could almost feel a single tear trailing down his face from the sheer beauty of the place. He took down the hoodie off his head, shaking his wet hair around to rid of the water.
"Oy! Newcomer!"
Tom snapped his attention towards the bar stand, where a man wearing a fancy black and blue uniform with a neat red tie stood behind it. The bartender's hair was brown, slick back with his fringe pointing sideways, light skin and lime green eyes staring at him as he cleaned up a glass in his hands with a cloth. On the left side of his chest, pinned to his suit was a nametag which was written in the name Jacob.
There was also someone sitting in one of the stools of the bar stand. Tom couldn't see his face, as he was with his back towards him and drinking something, but he is wearing a black coat and has short, bushy brown hair, a lighter shade in comparison to the bartender's.
"What can I get yah, stranger?" The bartender asked him, beckoning Tom to take a seat in one of the stools as he continued to clean the glasses.
He did so, still unsure of the reality he is seeing, and sits next to the other figure. "Uh, do you by any chance have Smirnoff?" Tom asks sheepishly.
The bartender eyes him curiously. "Yep." He confirmed with a strange, foreign accent laced in his voice. "This place really is French!" Tom thought. "Are yah talking about the good stuff, or the diet?" He questions.
"The good stuff! Straight in the glass with ice, and nothing else." Tom ordered contently.
"Very well, sir." The bartender nodded, turning around to get him the drink.
"Sir…" Tom repeated the word with a chuckle, pleased with the establishment's service and respect for their clients. The exact same thing couldn't be said about Mustacheos', or any other bar he went to for that matter. "Not even home apparently." Tom murmured coldly, feeling a pang of hurt deep inside him.
"Tough times at home?" A gruff voice asked, snapping Tom out of his thoughts.
He turned and realized it was the figure sitting beside him that had asked the question. He took the chance to take a closer look at him. He's churning a glass of liquid, supposedly scotch, on one hand as he stared down at it deep in thought with dark, brown eyes. A cigar poked out of his mouth, but it was unlit. But the most peculiar and distinguishable aspects were his bushy, furrowed eyebrows.
Tom scoffed. "You have no idea." He replied, tapping the table.
"Probably not, but I may have a hunch." The stranger spoke, his voice gruff and with a thick accent, before downing the entire glass in one go. "Let me guess; trouble with friends?"
Tom's eyes widened. "Yeah, how did you know?" He questioned, feeling genuinely surprised the stranger was able to guess it right so easily.
"Like I said; it was a hunch." The stranger answered before turning his attention to the bartender. "Another drink, please." He ordered.
Despite just meeting him, Tom likes the stranger already. He stretched out a hand towards him, making sure it was his right hand, as his left one was still stinging in pain after crushing the glass bottle earlier. But the pain doesn't bother him. Not anymore anyway. "Name's Tom." He introduced himself.
The stranger eyed his hand in surprise but he fully turned in his stool to face him, revealing his entire face. Tom was taken by surprise when he saw the man's scar over his right eye, stretching across it. Good thing his eyes are entirely black and no one can really tell where he is looking at.
"Jeremy." He greeted back and shook his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Jeremy." Tom says, attempting to seem friendly despite the whole ordeal with his friends early that night. "Say, are you a frequent client to this pub?"
"You could say that." Jeremy replies in a gruff voice. "But I can't say the same about you though. Never seen you around these parts before, so I guess it's safe to say you're not from around here."
Tom shrugged. "Sort of." He says. "I'm a local to this city, but I admit I've never come to this part of town before. Can't believe I was missing out on this the whole time!" He gestured his arm out towards the whole establishment to make his point.
Jeremy chuckled. "Well, if you're having troubles back home, you stumbled across the right place." He spoke. "This pub is the greatest! And who knows? You might find yourself better company here to make up for the ones who have upset you." He suggested.
Tom frowned momentarily. Being reminded of his struggles with his friends, if they can even be considered that now. Jeremy noticed his expression and frowned. "Ey, I apologize if I touched a sore subject." He says. "Didn't mean to be bold, it's none of my business anyway."
Tom looked up at him. "Nah it's fine." He dismissed the issue and shrugged. "You wanna know something, Jeremy? I think you got a point!"
"Oh?" Jeremy raised one bushy eyebrow in question.
"I mean, who cares about the issues and problems I may have back home?" Tom elaborated. "I'm here now! And dammit, I will make the most of it!"
"Well said, chum." Jeremy gave a nod of approval.
Just then the bartender, Jacob as he is called, walked in and handed them both their respective drinks. Tom felt his throat go dry at the sight of the holy alcohol being poured in a glass and put in front of him. He grabbed his glass and eyed it in anticipation. But before he went ahead and chugged it down like he usually does, he glanced back at his newfound drinking buddy and raised his glass out towards him.
"Come on Jeremy, let's cheer and drink for this occasion!" Tom offered, smiling widely in content. "I don't feel like going back home any time soon, so I want to spend however long as possible just drinking, having fun, and no worries at all!"
"Sounds good to me." Jeremy agreed, raising his own glass up as well. "Cheers pal!"
"Cheers!"
The two of them dinked their glasses together before simultaneously chugging it down. Tom immediately felt relief as his burning throat was quenched by the taste of good, quality alcohol. But something seems out of place...
As he set his cup back down to the table, Tom felt his vision go blurry. "What's going on?" He thought, feeling his body go numb. "Normally I can hold up my liquor count up to 5 or 6 bottles, but this is getting ridiculous!" Hurriedly, albeit rather clumsily, Tom tried to get up off his seat, but Jeremy just effortlessly pushed him back down to his stool.
Tom glanced at him in confusion, blinking as he tried to clear up his vision. "I-I don't f-feel *hic* so good." He muttered, his head swaying from side to side.
"Don't worry, my friend." He heard Jeremy say. "It will be over soon, just give in and sleep."
Tom wanted to argue. He wanted to remain awake and demand to know what he meant, but he quickly felt his strength drain away from his body. He couldn't maintain himself awake for much longer. His vision went completely black and next thing he knows, Tom passed out with his head lying against the table top.
But before he could fully lose his consciousness he heard Jeremy speaking one final time. "Look on the bright side, at least after tonight you won't have to see your friends ever again. Well, except one that is…" With that, Tom went unconscious.
Jeremy stared down at Tom's sleeping form sitting beside him with an expressionless face while churning the scotch in his glass. He frowned down at him, feeling slightly guilty for tricking the blue hooded man this way, especially after befriending and gaining his thrust. He gingerly patted the top of the unconscious man's head, ruffling his hair; by no means in an affectionate manner, but to make sure he was completely knocked out before moving him. After gaining no response, Jeremy grunted.
"He's out cold alright." He confirmed, drinking the rest of his scotch before turning towards Jacob, who watched the entire thing silently and with no expression whatsoever shown on his face. He just simply stood there with his hands folded neatly behind his back and with a straight posture. "What took you so long, anyway? I swear, for a second I thought you had gone back there to drink."
"Oh, I'm sorry." Jacob apologised, however his tone was dry and held sarcasm. "It took me a while to find the right drugs because SOMEONE misplaced them in the wrong cabinet with the wrong labels and I had to correct it everything myself."
Jeremy smirked at him. "Poor you, it must've been so terrible." He replied casually with equal amount of sarcasm and a flirty tone. "You know, if you would have just come back and asked for help I could have lent you a hand."
"And ruin your disguise and our plans to capture Tom? I think not." Jacob pointed out, leaning closer to Jeremy over the bar counter. They stared at each other's eyes for a moment longer before Jacob broke his gaze to look at Tom's unconscious form, a frown reappearing on his face. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter now. We got what we needed."
Jeremy got off his stool, stretching out his limbs and yawning. "I'll be going on my way then. I'll take him along with me." He announced, getting a grip on Tom's upper half and hauling him up towards him. "Wow, this guy is as light as a feather! Almost no weight to him." He commented as he picked him up over his shoulder. You coming or what?" He asked, turning back to Jacob who began to clean up the counter.
"Gotta finish service first." He gestured towards the other people in the pub. Most of them were oblivious to their actions, but the ones who were aware just gave them a single nod of approval before resuming to their drinks. "I'll close down soon and meet you back at the headquarters. You go on ahead and report to red leader."
"Report what? I think it's pretty obvious the status of our mission!" Jeremy exclaimed jokingly, gesturing down at the sleeping man in his arms.
Jacob smiled slightly, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "Away with you." He dismissed him half-heartedly.
Jeremy smiled back on his way out and carried Tom along with him towards the back. After he was out of sight, Jacob resumed on with his work like nothing ever happened. "I hope Tord knows what he's doing." He thought, feeling sorry for the knocked out man and all the pain he's about to endure in the near future. If he even survives long enough.
So what you guys think of it so far? If you think Matt and Edd's behaviour, or even Tom's is coming out as OOC, I apologise, but just remember that there is a reason for that and if you're clever enough to see the hints I put all over this chapter then you'll realize the reason why. And yes, i made up the name Mustacheos for the bar. Pretty sure that's the name of a food brand, but i'm not certain. Now you might be wondering who Jeremy and Jacob are, and if you haven't figure out yet you'll just have to wait for the next, or possibly the one afterwards for the answer. But hey, look on the bright side! Next chapter Tom and Tord will finally meet.
Fun fact: I actually felt bad while writing the scene with Tom, Matt and Edd. I'm going to feel even worse when the actual story begins…