Tom blinked awake, finding himself lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling of his room; fully clothed and the Dreamcatcher in his ear, the same way as it has been for the last few weeks.
He glanced at the radio on his nightstand to check the hour and realized it was three in the morning.
His transformations were seriously disorientating. He could hardly keep track of time whenever the sudden urge to shift hits him. Tom would be in a training session with Tord or hanging out with Paul and Pat when he is taken over by the powerful urge to transform. It was disconcerting popping in and out of existence like that.
Tom sighed and sat up in bed.
He knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. In fact; his body felt revived and full of energy, and Tom longed to release it. Reading a book now didn't appeal to him. Maybe training by myself will do me some good.
Jumping to his feet, Tom slipped out of his room and made his way through the long empty hallways toward the training room. No signs of life. The silence was deafening for the most part, but Tom was aware of distant footsteps wandering far above him.
His senses have gotten much sharper since he gave in to his transformations.
Oftentimes he would listen to soldiers stomping around on the upper levels and talk to one another, though Tom could never make out precisely what they were saying. A shame, really; it would be fun if he could eavesdrop on others' conversations and learn some juicy gossip to share with Paul and Pat. But he wasn't limited to only hearing. His sense of smell has gotten better, too; to the point where he could associate certain smells with individuals and tell them apart from each other.
Tom smiled, remembering Tord's reaction when he found out. The Norwegian man had been so ecstatic he often blindfolded him and tested his senses with different assortments of items and foods to see the extent of his new skills. Tom would never admit it out loud but he found Tord's excitement, dare he say… cute?
"You are nothing more than a silly little plaything to him. ~" The voice warned, obscuring his vision and weighing down on his shoulders as it grasped them. Despite all the mental evaluations with Patrick and revealing the truth about his condition, the voice doesn't seem any less deterred in its attempts to make him suffer. "You think you are safe and happy now, but when the inevitable happens and they show you their true colours, you will look back to these moments with regret – wishing you had died to avoid the pain you are sure to feel in the future. You remember what that pain feels like, don't you? ~"
And why should I trust you over them, again? Tom countered wryly, though he still felt its words pierce through his heart like arrows. He winced in pain, trying to pull them from his chest. You need me more than I need you, clearly. You have no power over me anymore, and I won't listen to what you have to say ever again.
The voice growled. Before it could properly respond however, Tom became aware of an acrid scent drifting through his nose. He halted in his steps, tasting the air to pinpoint what it was and where the smell was coming from. It was faint, as though it passed by this way a few hours ago. The scent itself was strong and pungent, making his nose wrinkle in disgust. His eyes widened when he finally recognized it.
It's smoke! He realized. Someone smoked through here recently. Not too hard a guess as to who that could be…
Despite his better judgement Tom decided to follow the scent to see where it leads. He wandered through the dim hallways, following his nose until the distant sound of metal clinking reached his ears. Needless to say, Tom wasn't the least bit surprised when he was led to the test room; the sounds slightly louder coming from within.
Pausing before the door, Tom stared at it in silent contemplation. For some strange reason there was a part of him that felt compelled to go inside and see him. Probably something to do with the overwhelming loneliness he tends to feel wandering through the long hallways on his own in the dead of the night.
If he's awake right now, then maybe we could train together. Tom is anxious and wide awake, but the truth is that he wants some company. Even if it is Tord.
Figuring it wouldn't hurt to pay a visit and ask; Tom pushed the heavy door open and slipped inside the dim cluttered room.
Navigating his way toward the centre, careful not to bump into anything, Tom felt his heart quickening when he came upon the wide open space illuminated by a single light shining over Tord's lone silhouette hunched over a table, tinkering in silence, his back turned toward him. For a while, Tom did nothing but observe.
From this distance he could identify his scent more clearly now.
If Tom had to describe Tord's scent it probably be something along the lines of gunpowder, smoke and burning flesh – as though the robot incident would never truly wash away from him – and surprisingly enough, a faint hint of peppermint and cinnamon. Even though the smell would be considered foul for most, and Tom wouldn't blame them, something about it was strangely enticing to him. It was fitting for Tord, he supposed.
"I know you're there, Thomas."
Tom stiffened in surprise. "How did you know it was me?"
Tord chuckled, turning around. "Well, Paul and Patrick are usually either asleep or having fun at this hour; and you are the only other person in this level…" He paused, staring at Tom with a meaningful glance. "What are you doing up at this hour, anyway? You should be resting."
"Hang on, if you're going to ask me that at least start off explaining the reason why you are up and about yourself!" Tom countered with a teasing edge to his voice as he approached. "Don't be a hypocrite, Commie."
It was strange. Usually Tom would've felt defensive and maybe a little irritated with Tord for questioning him this way, but now all he could feel was a light-hearted amusement.
Tord smirked and rolled his eye. "Night time is when I am most productive! I've been stuck doing paperwork for hours, and I got a new idea for an invention I really wanted to get started on so I came straight here the second I was done- !" He broke off with a sudden sneeze.
"You okay there, dude?" Tom tipped his head, holding back his laughter. Tord's sneezes were hilariously squeaky. "You don't look so good."
Waving his hand dismissively, Tord managed to reply. "I'm fine." He sniffled. "I'm just… I'm probably coming down with a slight cold or something. Nothing to be worried about."
It's already bad enough having both Paul and Pat on his case ever since he first started displaying signs of sickness, probably from when he was tossed into the pool and then promptly rescued by the monster, but Tom shouldn't concern himself with him. It was unneeded, really. He is the one supposed to look after Tom, and not the other way around.
Tom stared down at his feet, suddenly nervous. "I woke up a while ago and didn't want to go back to sleep."
"Nightmares?"
"No. I just… I'm not tired, and I thought about training by myself when I followed your scent here and, well, I thought, maybe…" Tom hesitated, ducking his head in embarrassment and feeling shy all of the sudden. "I wondered if you would like to train together with me?"
Why am I so embarrassed to ask? It's just training!
Tord lifted his head, blinking in surprise at his offer. "S-sure!" He cleared his throat, trying to sound more confident and less enthusiastic. "Of course! Let me just finish tinkering with this and we can head off. I won't take long."
Nodding fervently, Tom decided to settle down on one of the nearest tables cluttered with junk. He carefully pushed the devices apart to make space for himself. Sitting on the edge of the table, his legs dangling casually, he peered at his surroundings and waited patiently for Tord.
"Tom?"
"Yes?"
"Would you mind if I make a small cut on your shoulder the next time you turn monster?" Tord asked hot with embarrassment knowing how weird of a request this was. To elaborate he added, "I want to test your healing factor, but I will totally understand if you're not comfortable with this."
Tom blinked dumbfounded. Tord was asking for his consent with an experiment? What happened to the Commie who would wrap him up in chains and stab needles into him regardless of his protests? Tord was really trying to better himself, and Tom could appreciate the effort he was putting.
"It's alright. You can go through with it, I don't mind."
Tord released a small breath of relief and nodded. "Oh, uh, good! Thank you!" He said, but there was a strange, shy note in his voice that Tom could not quite decipher.
They fell silent for a few moments as Tord returned to tinkering with the new device he was creating, with Tom watching him from a safe distance. For a while, there was only the sound of metal clinking together between them.
"So, uhh…" Tord broke the silence, his attention divided between tinkering and making small talk with Tom. "H-how- how are you feeling? Any new developments?"
Tom shrugged. "I'm fine, I guess. Nothing new."
"How's the voice?"
The question wasn't meant to be hurtful, Tom knew that Tord was just plain curious, but he couldn't help but wince a little. Even though he broke all of the rules and he should be free from the voice's influence, it was still hard to talk about his condition so openly. The words get stuck in his throat every time the topic was mentioned, as though invisible hands were strangling him and he had to force himself to speak.
"Still there." Tom said quietly, grabbing a random tool around him and pretending to inspect it. "I try not to listen, but it still hurts. I guess some things won't ever go away."
Tord nodded in understanding, silently wishing he could do more to help. "Is there anything else that's bothering you?"
Tom glanced away and sighed, his hands fidgeting. "Nothing new. I'm just… the future still looks bleak to me, you know?" He took a deep breath. "I try to look ahead and see where I can go from here, but I keep coming up blank. I know I am supposed to be recovering and whatnot, but I still don't glimpse any future for me. I get better and then… what?"
Even as he spoke, Tom knew he should mind what he tells Tord. His belly churned. He usually vents to Patrick about these sorts of things, but confiding in Tord now doesn't seem so wrong anymore; not since the night he comforted him.
That night… that one moment when Tom was at his lowest, and Tord was there for him… Tom couldn't get it out of his mind.
Momentarily stopping his progress on the new invention, Tord paused to contemplate. The Red Leader in him wanted to brush off Tom's worries and reassure him that his future only lies with the Red Army from now on; that his future is to fight by his side and win the war to conquer the world, but he had the good decency to ignore that part of his brain and be more supportive.
Now Tord glanced at him, his gray eye blinking sympathetically. "The future can be scary." He agreed. "I don't know what's going to happen in the future any more than you do. I have plans, yes, but things can go wrong at any moment. I could lose everything I ever worked for! But come what may, there's no need for us to fear it. It does us no good. All we can do is have the courage to face it."
Tom didn't respond, but Tord could see in his gaze that there was still doubt gnawing away at him.
"You must learn to have more faith in yourself, Thomas." Tord went on, in the deep, rich voice that seemed to inspire confidence; letting some of his leader mannerisms slip out into the open. "Besides, whatever happens you won't be alone anymore. We're all here for you, no matter what."
I'm here for you. He wanted to say, but wisely reigned himself in. I won't let you suffer anymore.
Startled by the soft conviction in his voice, Tom steadily stared back. He felt warm all over by Tord's words, and deeply appreciated the comfort he provides. "Thank you." And he meant it. His concerns didn't weigh him down as much now.
Tord's heart quickened as he met Tom's gaze. Such softness in his void like eyes. He forced himself to turn away and return to the current task at hand of creating his latest invention; a bracelet that can control the weather.
As a comfortable silence fell over them again, Tom took his time to study him.
There's something different about him. Tom noted with a small sense of awe as he narrowed his eyes pensively. He's more kind and understanding now. Or was he always that way? Had he been wrong about Tord?
Instantly, memories of all the times they fought flooded his mind, including all the hurt Tord had inflicted on him. He betrayed him, picked on him for years, kidnapped him, threatened his friends' lives, experimented on him – though Tom technically gave him permission for that, he'd still been forcefully coerced to do so – and is the reason why he is a monster now and has a voice in his head torturing him and nearly take his own life; albeit unintentionally.
But he saw the error of his ways and apologized. Tom internally argued with himself. He was there for me when it mattered most. He's been helping me understand my condition better, and gain control of my monster side. Doesn't that mean anything?
Does that mean he forgives Tord?
Tom fixed his gaze on the busy Norwegian man idly tinkering with his back turned to him.
No. Tom has never been the forgiving type; he's more of the 'never forget' kinda guy, and though he knows holding grudges isn't healthy in the long scheme of things, he won't brush things off under the rug just with a little apology. He's been hurt, time and time again, and he is entitled to want a little more to compensate for it.
Tom continued watching Tord work, strangely amused by the focus and skill he demonstrated as he expertly attached wires to a chip and connected it to a slot in a smooth metal panel.
He may not be willing to forgive Tord just yet… but perhaps he is not completely opposed to giving him a second chance.
As he adjusted his position on the table, Tom caught sight of a familiar red horned helmet sitting beside him. He remembered inspecting it the last time he and Tord had a conversation in this room. Tom picked it up, bringing it closer to his face and peered into it.
His mind could almost imagine Tord wearing it, in all his conniving malicious glory as he gives the order for his troops to march forth and destroy millions of lives in his ambition to rule over everything.
But the image shifted just as quickly as it came, and Tom was suddenly reminded of the compassion Tord showed him lately and the potential he has to be a genuine good leader who can help others and improve the world like he claims to want.
Tom's heart fluttered slightly faster in his chest at the thought of Tord. It's been doing that a lot as of late, and Tom was confused as to why that is.
Tord is arrogant, mean, selfish, harsh, thinks he is a gift to the human race and can do no wrong, can be extremely annoying at times, got some serious anger management issues, he doesn't shower, and he puts way too much pepper in his food. However, in contrast to these qualities there were a lot of good ones, too. How his eye seems to light up with both excitement and pride whenever he talks about his inventions, his dumb toothy grin, how he is secretly a dork underneath his fearsome leader persona, how awkward and shy he can be at times when trying to help him and be supportive, his intelligence, and there was something oddly… charming about him, in a rustic sort of way. His face might be scarred and burned but he still holds himself in a way that only he can pull it off and still come across as handsome somehow.
Just as Tom placed the horned helmet down, a loud explosion startled him into dropping it. He looked up, jumping to his feet, only to bite his lips in an attempt to choke down his laughter.
Tord's face was covered in soot, a tiny flame burning the tip of one of his 'horns', holding the mangled device in his hands as he blinked in bewilderment as though he were still processing what just happened.
Ah cr#p, I must've connected the wires in the wrong places again. Tord thought with mild annoyance. At this point he was already used to having his creations blowing up in his face, in more ways than one, so he wasn't that surprised to have it happen for the millionth time.
What did surprise Tord however, was Tom bursting into laughter next to him.
Tord felt grateful in a flash to be covered in soot as it concealed the crimson hue he was definitely sure was tinting his cheeks as he blushed. He thought Tom was already pretty when he was angry, hence his great lengths to annoy and tease him in the past, but to see him laugh and smile now was perhaps an even greater sight to behold.
It was so rare to see Tom genuinely smile, even rarer to get him to laugh this hard. But Tord accomplished such a feat anyway. How come he never tried that before? So beautiful… what a lovely sound...
Tord couldn't control the smile that split his face, like ice cracking. It seemed possible that he would never be able to stop smiling at Tom. He definitely made a mental note to get him to laugh more often.
He wasn't sure how this was possible, but it seems that he fell even more in love with Tom.
With Tom's help, Tord hastily wiped away the soot clean from his face and fixed his hair. He decided he'd had enough of tinkering for one night, and that he was going to go train with Tom. They chatted casually on the way to the training room, and it later progressed to playful banter as Tom dodged and raced through the obstacle course; with Tord chiming in every once in a while to give helpful advice on his performance.
They moved on to practicing fighting moves.
A blow on the back of his head knocked Tom off balance. He staggered sideways and turned to see Tord fast advancing. The Norwegian man took a swing at him. Tom jumped back, narrowly avoiding the blow. Tord went to punch him again, but Tom successfully blocked the hit and then grabbed him by the forearm and swung him over his shoulder with all his strength to fling him to the ground.
Tord landed hard on his back, the wind knocked out of him. He didn't even have time to gather his bearings before a foot pressed against his chest and pinned him to the ground.
Tom towered over him, both breathing heavily. The look of shock and awe in Tord's eye as they stared at one another brought Tom to his senses as realization slowly dawned on him.
He pinned Tord down.
"I… I did it?!" Tom breathed in disbelief. He stepped back, a smile spreading across his face as he processed the information. "I DID IT!" He jumped in excitement, laughing.
"That doesn't count!" Tord instantly picked himself off the floor as soon as he was able and glared at the hysterical eyeless man. "I'm sick, remember? I'm not at my full strength. If I were, rest assured that this wouldn't have happened!"
Tom snorted. "Oh? Playing the pity card now, Commie? What happened to "It's just a slight cold, nothing to worry about"?" He blinked mischievously. "You just don't wanna admit that I bested you in fair combat! Not so unbeatable after all, eh Commie? In your face!" He jabbed Tord on the nose as he spoke.
Before Tord could argue, Tom whipped around and hopped off the arena. In his excitement he decided to race another lap through the obstacle course, swerving and leaping with ease, all the while continuously yelling with glee.
Watching him run around yelling, Tord wasn't sure how to feel about this development. He was slightly embarrassed for being caught off guard like that, and Tom's excessive celebration was grating on his nerves. But seeing the sheer joy on Tom's face upon realizing he had won and how he proceeded to run around enthusiastically like a child with a sugar rush was very endearing to Tord, and dare he say, he even felt a surge of pride for him.
Tom skidded to halt in front of him, out of breath.
"Alright, knock it down a notch, will you?" Tord rolled his eye but couldn't suppress a tiny grin from forming on his face. "Say; it's almost morning and Paul and Patrick should be waking up soon. Want to go grab breakfast with me?"
The request startled Tom, but he instantly agreed to it; a strange warm and fuzzy feeling tickling his chest as he did so.
It's just breakfast! It's not any different from eating with Edd and Matt in the mornings.
After traversing the long hallways together and reaching the kitchen area of the trusty soldiers' quarters, Tom busied himself on the stove as he prepared everyone's meals while Tord set up the table. No way would he allow Tord to cook and run the risk of burning his, and to extension, everyone's mouths off with ridiculous amounts of pepper. Not to mention that he has a cold, too. Plus; Tom figured making breakfast was a good way to show them his thanks for everything they've done for him over these last few months.
The distant sound of a door opening reached his heightened hearing above the sound of the sizzling eggs in the pan. Soft footsteps drew closer until the figure of a very sleepy Paul wearing a pink robe rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. The Commander surprisingly pulled off the colour very well. But perhaps funnier than that, was the fact that his large bushy eyebrows seem to have taken the place of his eyes as he wandered around with his eyes still clamped shut with sleep.
Tord had warned him ahead of time that Paul doesn't function properly in the mornings until he gets his fix of coffee, often unresponsive and moody until he does.
Tom watched the Commander sluggishly tread over to the coffee machine like a zombie and blindly reach out for his mug; only for Tord, who was standing next to him, to move it out of his reach. Paul palmed the counter in search of it, but Tord continued to move the mug around every time he got too close. Teasing him to work for it.
Tom snickered quietly and shot Tord meaningful glare. C'mon Commie, let the man have his coffee already!
As if sensing his request, Tord finally had his fun and let Paul take the mug. They both watched in silent anticipation as the Commander took his first sips of caffeine and finally blinked open his eyes. Recognition slowly dawned on him and cleared his gaze.
"Rise and shine, soldier. ~" Tord chuckled, seeing the surprise flicker across his Commander's face upon realizing he was not alone in the kitchen.
"Sir?" Paul blinked.
"Good morning, Paul." Tom chimed in.
"T-Tom? What are you two… doing here?"
It wasn't uncommon to find the Red Leader in their kitchen. Usually he would come by to grab a mug of coffee before lumbering back to the confines of his office, but he never actually stayed for breakfast. And Paul and Pat normally fix Tom's meals and deliver it to him in his room. But seeing the two of them here in their quarters was surprising, but not at all unwelcomed.
"We both woke up early. Got some training done." Tord replied, shooting Tom a brief silent request not to contradict him; lest they want to hear an earful from Patrick for not getting a full night's worth of rest. "And decided to have breakfast with you lot. Hope we're not intruding or anything?"
"Oh no, not all!" Paul exclaimed. "You guys know you are always welcome to come by anytime you want and-" he sniffed the air. "Ooo, what a nice smell! What are we having?"
"Omelettes." Tom answered, done cooking the meal and sliding it on a plate. "A little forewarning though; I haven't cooked in a really long time, so I'm sorry if it's not very good."
Tord waved off Tom's concerns. "I'm sure it's going to be delicious, Thomas. It smells great, and you're a good cook. Although… I'm sure it could always use more pepper."
Tom frowned. "For you, maybe." He retorted dryly. "You won't be satisfied until you can feel your taste buds burn, will you?"
Tord laughed and Tom smiled and Tord thought that perhaps nothing would ever be boring or frustrating again as long as he was near Tom.
Paul regarded each of them in turn, noticing the odd light atmosphere in the room. His eyes flashed with curiosity. The two of them were gazing at each other with a sort of moony look on their faces. Well, Tord usually does look like that whenever he was near Tom, he just tries to hide by being more 'leader-like' – but that's a first for the eyeless man. They weren't outright flirting either, but there was definitely a teasing edge to their voices.
Huh, am I being third wheeled right now? Is this how Tord feels when he is with Patrick and I?
He wasn't imagining things; there is something there that certainly wasn't there before.
"What's going on here?"
Patrick strolled into the kitchen to stand beside him, already wearing his pristine uniform and ready to start his day. Paul blushed, suddenly feeling underdressed compared to everyone else. He usually gets ready after he's had his coffee and was properly awake. Pat's honeyed-green eyes rounded in bewilderment as he came upon the scene. "Oh, hello Tom! And… sir? What a lovely surprise this is."
Before long, the four of them settled around the table to eat together. Chatting leisurely about their plans for the day and joking with each other. Everything about this moment heavily reminded Tom of his past mornings with his friends, and although the memory gave him an immense sense of loss he was overall comfortable with the familiar setting.
"This is nice." Patrick commented as he stirred his tea. "Perhaps we should consider having breakfast together more often, don't you think?"
"Anything to keep me from signing more paperwork!" Tord concurred, earning a disapproving glare from his General.
Paul hummed in agreement, sipping his coffee.
"You okay there, Paul?" Tom asked. "You've been oddly quiet so far."
Throughout most of the conversation Paul couldn't help but observe the way Tom and his leader were behaving towards each other. Are they even aware of what they are doing? Do they have any idea how this looks like? Paul kept glancing at Pat, hoping that his partner would meet his gaze and confirm that; yes, this was indeed happening and they might as well be having a double date for breakfast. But Pat's face was unreadable for most of the meal, and Paul felt alone in this and it was driving him crazy!
Still, he remained composed on the outside as he responded. "Just enjoying the food. Pretty good, by the way!"
"Thanks!"
"So what are your plans for today, Tom?" Paul prompted.
Tom leaned back on his chair with a pensive sigh. "I'm not sure. The same as always, I guess? Read books and train." There wasn't going to be a mental evaluation until tomorrow, and the only experiments Tord conducts on him nowadays are in his monster form, so Tom found himself with a lot of free time in his hands.
If he doesn't end up shifting into a monster throughout the day, that is.
"Do you guys ever go outside?" Tom questioned curiously. "I mean, like, for missions or army related things?"
Tord perked up at the question and glanced at him in silence.
"Sometimes." Paul replied. "It's not often, but we do have training drills out in the field once in a while and we also have border patrols to check our perimeters; though none of us are required to participate in it."
"We are the three highest ranking members in the entire Red Army." Tord added softly. "Aside from visiting our other bases we don't venture outside our borders. We used to, when our numbers were low. But now it's too risky to expose ourselves, so we stay put."
Tom tipped his head. "But say; you are in your office and you get tired of being cooped up. If you wanted to go outside, within your perimeter and take a walk for some fresh air or something, no one would stop you, right?"
Tord regarded him for several heartbeats, his eye narrowing. He exchanged looks with Paul and Pat and found the same question mirroring in their gazes. "I suppose so. Why do you ask?"
"Just curious, that's all." Tom answered lamely before drinking his coffee.
There was clearly more to it, but Tord didn't press despite his yearning curiosity. After all, the choice to share with them what the matter was rests entirely up to Tom, and Tord will respect his wishes. Even if the Red Leader in him was dying to pry the truth out of him.
"Oh damn, duty calls." Paul's voice jerked him out of his thoughts. The Commander pushed back his seat and stood up. "I better go and get ready. Thanks for the breakfast you guys!" He spoke over his shoulder as he walked away.
"Yeah, and I must get going now, too." Patrick sighed and rose to his feet as well. He walked into the living room and summoned the lift that leads to Tord's office. He dipped his head gratefully to Tom as he stepped into the tiny elevator. "Thank you for the meal and company."
Tom ducked his head in embarrassment. "It's no big deal you guys. It's the least I could do…"
"Quit being so modest, Jehova." Tord poked his side unexpectedly and nearly made him jump out of his seat. Tom turned to him wide eyed. "You did great!"
"Well, it was your idea to begin with, anyway." Tom pointed out. "But what about you? Don't you have important business to attend to as well?"
"Not really." Tord half lied.
While it is true that he finished signing all the paperwork and there were no major meetings scheduled for today, he still is required to inspect all the different divisions that make up his army and organize minor events happening in the next month. But Paul could handle them in his place instead. Spending a little more time with Tom won't jeopardize his entire army, surely?
"I am going back to tinkering in the test room. You're free to come with and keep me company, if you want."
Tom shrugged, trying to act cool despite the fuzzy feeling stirring in the pit of his stomach. "Sure! Sounds good to me."
It's not like I have anything better to do, anyways. And I don't want to be alone…
After cleaning up the mess they made in the kitchen the two of them returned to the test room. Tom stopped by his room briefly to grab a book, and was now reading beside Tord as he worked extensively on his newest invention, occasionally filling in the silence with small talk. It was admittedly nice. In a way it was almost just like old times.
Tom tensed as the world turned a shade darker and he sighed.
"He has you eating out of the palm of his hand. Haven't you noticed how much they've changed you? ~" The voice hissed in his ears. "In the past, you would have fought him with every fibre of your being. You would have been repulsed by the mere idea of getting along with him. You would have resisted them every step of the way until your very last breath – now look at you! Being all friendly and compliant… just the way they want you to be. ~"
Feeling claws scratch away at his sides and grip his torso in a painful hold, Tom tried his best to ignore it and go back to reading. The voice just wants to get a rise out of him and ruin his happy mood.
Not content with being disregarded, the claws on his chest sank deeper into his skin until Tom could feel them prodding at his ribcage; twisting and tugging them hard to try and break them. Tom clenched his teeth and curled up, trying to lessen the pain.
Leave me alone!
"Why? To watch you ruin your own life by becoming their precious obedient little pet until they have no further use for you? ~" The voice spat. "You know they are just using you. Treating you with kindness in order to gain your loyalty and trust. ~"
And I suppose you are any better? Tom growled, trying to pry the claws off of him. If Tord wanted to gain my loyalty he could have easily gone about this in a different way. He could have built a mind controlling device to subdue me without going through all the trouble of putting up with my insolence. He could have tortured me into obedience any time he wants. Yes, he hurt me many times; but now he and others are trying to help me. They are nice. Much nicer than you, anyway!
He glanced over to where Tord was seated. Watching him now, screwing bolts into a metallic panel as he attached the pieces together, Tom couldn't help but admire the way the light caught on his unusual horned hair and made him seem more imposing and regal.
"Are you stupid or blind or both? ~" The voice snarled, jerking Tom out of his musings with a violent scratch across his chest. "What better way to have your enemy serve you than by tricking them into believing that they matter? That they are worthy of being kept alive? That they are loved? Face it! They don't really care about you. Why would they anyway? You are a worthless failure that weights everyone down. No one could possibly care about someone like that! ~"
Tom tried not to pay any heed to it. He did his best to ignore the claws and hands wrapping around him. He knows that the voice just wants him miserable in hopes of taking full control of him, and none of the things it was saying were true. But a wave of anguish swept over him and destroyed every trace of happiness he had acquired these last few hours.
F#cking burden. His own mind yelled at him.
"Tom?" He hardly heard Tord's voice call out to him, even with his enhanced hearing. He seems to be a long distance away – his voice no more than an echo. "Tom, what's the matter?"
Tom didn't respond. He merely stared vacantly down at his book, numbness crawling through his veins.
That is until a robotic hand gently lifted his chin and he found himself gazing at Tord's concerned face peering back at him. The dark haze surrounding his vision gradually faded away as he returned to reality and Tom forced himself to relax, breathing out a small sigh.
"Was the voice talking to you?" Tord prompted.
"Is that at all surprising at this point?" Replied Tom quietly, removing himself from Tord's hold.
Tord eyed him thoughtfully. "Are you going to be okay?"
Tom sat up very straight, anxious to show he wasn't affected and that there was no need to worry about him. "Of course! It's just the same nonsense as always. I've handled worse, Commie."
He could see in Tord's gaze that he wasn't fooling him. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Tom shook his head. "Just want to get back to my book-"
His wrists flared with pain, as though they were trying to alert him that he had slightly more urgent things to do first, such as for instance transforming into a monster. Tom dropped the book to rub them.
"Are you turning right now?" Tord asked, his gaze raking over him the moment he noticed his sudden discomfort.
Tom nodded numbly. He lifted his wrists and Tord held them gently while he studied them.
"C'mon then. We should head for the lab." Tord pulled him to his feet.
Tom sighed. So much for a relaxing day.
Wordlessly, Tord put one arm around him and guided him through the hallways toward the laboratory, and led him all the way to the examination table. Tom gratefully pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the counter. His ribcage was really starting to ache at this point. And his head felt strangely fuzzy, too. He couldn't think. Apparently his head was no longer connected to his body. He felt tired, his eyelids heavy.
Without thinking he blurted, "I wish I could see the sky again." He panted. "I miss going outside."
"I know." Tord said sadly. "One day, maybe. I'm so sorry you can't for now."
Tom hung his head and sighed. The tingling in his hands started spreading through the rest of his body, his muscles relaxed, and a feeling of peace slowly swept over him, like a wave filling him up. Ever since he stopped resisting, his transformations grew progressively less painful with each turn. Aside from a minor jolt of pain in his ribs and wrists, shifting into a monster nowadays was similar to falling asleep.
A hand squeezed his shoulders reassuringly. "I'm right here, Tom." Tord said. Try as he might, Tom couldn't muster the strength to look up at him, and yet he still found his presence soothing. "I'll be here for you the whole time, okay? I'll be here for you no matter what. You'll be safe. I promise."
Tom closed his eyes and let the change begin.
Tord stepped back and watched the transformation occur. Tom's ears elongated; his tail manifested behind him soundlessly; his hands formed into large claws; horns erupted from the top of his head; and one by one his teeth were pushed out and replaced by fangs. When the transformation was complete the monster blinked open its hollow eyes and peered at him, tilting its head slightly with pricked ears.
Attentive. Good. The monster was gradually losing its aggressive tendencies. Usually Tord would be met with a shriek to his face before it tries to pounce on him and he would have to wrestle it, but nowadays the asset would just quietly regard him.
"Hey there." Tord murmured a quiet greeting.
The asset chirped back at him. Not the kind of response Tord was looking for, but still nice to know that it was at least trying to talk back to him in a way.
"Okay, you stay put right there." Tord ordered as he stepped away. "I want to conduct a little experiment on you, so if you can kindly listen to me this time around that would be-"
The monster hopped off the examination table before he could finish his sentence. Rising to its full height, Tord tried not to feel intimidated as it towered over him; wobbling on two feet. "Oh f#ck, you're tall." He can never get quite used to Tom's true height in this form. Especially since the monster's preferred posture is to remain crouched with the support of its massive paws to crawl about, so it was rare to see it standing up like this. Tord figured the weight of its arms and head probably weighted down its spine a lot, and that's why it stands with a bit of slouch and never full on straight up.
The asset stumbled a couple steps forward before Tord stood on its way and pushed it back down to the examination table. The monster snorted unhappily, tail twitching with annoyance.
Tord sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright, will you stay put if I give you a little peanut butter?"
Apparently the monster has a thing for peanut butter. Who would've thought that's all it takes to tame a creature capable of effortlessly eviscerating you?
Grabbing the jar of pastry he keeps in the lab for this very occasion, Tord scooped a spoonful of peanut butter and handed it to the monster. It grabbed the utensil from him in its massive paw, easily dwarfing his hands, and just stuck it into its mouth with a deep pleased grumble. Ears twitching with delight.
With the beast properly distracted, Tord hurried over to one of the drawers and pulled out a scalpel.
During the border patrol massacre, he saw Tom get shot in the chest at point blank range. There had been blood staining his shirt and sent the creature staggering back. A fatal shot to most, but not to the monster. However, the most interesting thing of all was when Tom had been brought back to the lab after the incident and he found the bullet wedged in his skin, but no wound whatsoever despite the blood. It's almost as if the monster's skin had been hard enough to ricochet the bullet and only give it a superficial injury at most and then instantly heal it.
But Tord wanted to test that theory for himself now.
He carefully approached the monster, still busying itself with the pastry on the spoon to really notice his presence. He set the scalpel against the skin of its shoulder and pressed firmly into it.
It was like trying to cut through a diamond. The skin repelled the scalpel. Tord pressed the blade down harder until a tiny speck of blood dribbled to the surface. Tord paused to swipe the stain away with a ball of cotton, only to find that the cut he just made had vanished.
Even though Tord practically stabbed the blade into the skin and managed to draw blood, he hardly made it past the outer layer and the wound almost instantly healed itself. The monster wasn't even fazed by his efforts; still gnawing away at the spoon without a care in the world.
Tord leaned back and pulled up his robotic arm to write down the results. While it is possible to draw blood from the monster, it would take an innumerable amount of hits to really make a difference thanks to its self-healing abilities. The skin is too hard to penetrate and repels foreign objects from puncturing it.
The test was not done, however. There was one last thing Tord wanted to try out.
Approaching the drawers again, Tord fumbled around a little while until he found what he was looking for. He brought it up to his eye level to inspect it.
A fragment, taken from the monster's claw recovered from the border patrol massacre.
It was a small piece, chipped away from the sample they collected before sending the rest to Bing for a special order, but still just as sharp as its entirety.
Tord drew closer to the monster, claw in hand, and made a quick scratch on the skin. The result was instantaneous. The claw effortlessly cut through the flesh and blood welled up from the wound. The monster cried out in pain and rounded on him with a furious hiss. Tord backed away wide eyed.
He watched from a safe distance as the asset started lapping at its own shoulder with its forked tongue. Tord expected the bleeding to stop like it did with the scalpel, but the wound did not disappear. The monster wouldn't stop bleeding. He had hurt it.
Tord stared down at the claw fragment in his hand. The claw was sharp, sure, but so was the scalpel. Such a tiny thing actually managed to injure a powerful creature like that.
He pulled up his robotic arm again and opened a new panel – a list of all the monster's potential weaknesses – to write down his findings and add a new inclusion to the list, alongside nuclear power.
"Another monster."
He didn't have time to dwell on that as a growl cut through the silence.
Looking up from his arm, Tord was alarmed to find the monster glaring at him with an injured expression; as though offended he had hurt it. Then it lunged forward unexpectedly, and next thing he knows it gave him a warning nip on his shoulder.
He stared at the monster in surprise. Though Tord knows this action was more of a "don't do that again" message, he couldn't help but feel as though it were saying "there! See how you like it" instead.
"Hey, look, I'm sorry for hurting you, bud." Tord scratched the monster behind the ears, and it half-closed its eyes in cautious delight as it leaned into his touch.
He pulled away from the monster, thinking that was a good enough apology, but the asset apparently wasn't too content about that. It growled at him, and before Tord could process what was happening the monster leaped at him.
Caught off guard, Tord toppled to the floor on his back; the monster pinning him down.
The monster loomed over him, dangerously close to his face. Tord could feel its warm breath fan over his face and smell the peanut butter on its breath. He cringed away. It sniffed him briefly before relaxing and letting its weight sink on top of him as it laid down, tucking its head just under his chin with a soft chirp. Tord couldn't help the blush that came over his cheeks, and he tried to push the beast away. "Get off of me, please." But the monster wouldn't budge.
Sighing in defeat, Tord rested his head back to stare at the ceiling. He couldn't help carding his fingers through the monster's unruly spiky locks; mindful of the horns. He appreciates the way that no matter how many times he does this the hair always goes back to its gravity defying self. Not even gel can tame it.
He felt more than he heard the deep purr that it uttered, rumbling through their bodies. Tord glanced down to see the monster peering back at him with its unique void black eyes that he loves so much.
No one else in the world has eyes quite like Tom's.
"Am I… interrupting something here?"
Tord froze, wide eyed as he jerked his head to the side to see Paul standing by the laboratory's entrance; arms crossed and an amused expression as he viewed the scene.
"It-it's not l-like that!" Tord stuttered, desperately attempting to push the asset off of him only for it to growl quietly and nuzzle closer to his chest in response. "What are you doing here, anyways? Shouldn't you be in duty right now?"
"I just finished roll call when I got paged by Scarlett to take over all your duties for the day." Paul replied as he approached. "Just wanted to check with you if everything is okay, but I can see that you're doing just fine eh?" He teased.
"Tom turned!"
"I can see that."
"And I wanted to perform some tests on him. I didn't expect for this to happen, but I need to-"
"It's fine, Red Leader. I know you just wanted to spend more time with Tom." Paul interrupted, his gaze was teasing but still kind with understanding. "You're not as subtle with your affections as you think you are. I don't mind the extra duties if it means you two love birds get to spend some quality time together!"
Tord frowned, blushing harder. "That's not- that's completely presumptuous you-"
"Do you need help with that or not?" Paul offered, ignoring his leader's flustered protests.
"... Yes."
"Good! Because I have a little experiment of my own I would like to conduct while I'm here. Come here, Tom!"
Paul whistled and clapped his hands to his knees, beckoning the monster to come closer. The asset sat up alert, ears pricked before reluctantly crawling off of Tord. Once free, Tord scrambled to his feet and dusted his uniform.
"Okay Tom, now here comes the most important decision of your life." Paul whispered, leaning down at the monster with both hands behind his back. Slowly, he revealed an object in each hand. "Ball of yarn… or squeaky toy…?"
Tord rolled his eye and groaned as Paul dropped the two items in front of the asset, obviously a part of his little project to figure out whether the monster is more cat or dog like.
They watched in silence as the monster inspected each item. It went for the ball of yarn first, sniffing and prodding it around with one claw but seemingly losing interest when it tried to take a bite out of it. Then the asset shifted its attention to the squeaky toy, taking a hesitant bite only to rear back in surprise when it squeaked rather loudly.
Startled, the monster drew back its ears and yipped.
Paul chuckled. "I don't… I don't think it's very impressed with the selection, huh?"
While the monster was distracted, Tord took the opportunity to check the cabinets for the black sludge he had stored after the analysis several weeks ago. He took the container out, inspecting it in his hands with furrowed eyebrows. While the serum he'd created seemingly only works exclusively on people with mental illnesses, it is highly plausible that if someone were to be injected with the fluids of this sludge they would certainly meet the same fate as Tom.
For ten years Tord devoted himself to his army and his research, striving to perfect the serum formula that will grant his army the secret weapon that'll win them the war for global domination. He finally succeeded!
He always thought that when this were to happen he would want to make as many of these monsters as possible. To mass produce them and create an army of monsters. After all, what's the use of only having one around when he can have more at his disposal? Why take risks when he can ensure with absolute certainty that the world will be his? He had even entertained the idea of injecting himself at some point.
But now… after learning everything about the serum's effects, and what had happened to Tom, and how it nearly destroyed him… Tord was having serious second thoughts.
The serum is dangerous. Not only to the subject themselves, but if they can't gain control of it they can pose a threat to everyone around them – or worse, with this kind of power at their disposal they might be tempted to seek their own agenda and turn traitor. Another monster is not only a threat to him but to Tom as well. Besides, after the border patrol massacre his Generals were already at their limit with the asset and he was thankful for being able to keep Tom around. They would never permit the creation of more monsters, even if it were for the benefit of the army.
Thinking about this, Tord could sense the Red Leader in him try to reason against this. He did work extremely hard to perfect the serum and it would be a waste of all his time and effort and resources to simply dispose of it now. What if he needs it later and he can't recreate his success? Creating more monsters might be a bad idea, but there's no harm in securing the serum at least?
Tord made his decision. He unscrewed the lid of the container and dripped the black sludge into several vials in needles before locking them away in a separate cabinet with a special lock only he and Paul have granted access to, for good measure. This is where it will remain. The serum will keep on existing as proof of his achievements, but it will never leave this cabinet and be put to use again. It's too risky.
There must never be another monster in existence.
Tom is enough.
Tord released a breath he didn't even realize he was holding and turned away from the cabinet. He combed a hand through his own hair. "So what are the results in your silly little experiment?" He asked as he joined his Commander's side, mindful to sound as though nothing was amiss.
"I think the monster is neutral in this regard." Paul grinned, pointing at the corner where the monster was curled up with the ball of yarn tangled in its claws and the squeak toy between its teeth. "Oh well, can't always get conclusive results!" He shrugged as he turned around to write down the score on the blackboard.
Tord's gaze softened as he observed the monster. "Shouldn't you get going, Paul? Otherwise I'm afraid you'll fall behind schedule." He commented offhandedly.
Paul's eyes widened. "Oh! Oh yes! Right away, sir! I will leave the two of you… alone." He hurried out of the lab only to pause briefly by the doorway to shoot his leader a knowing smirk before promptly leaving. "Have fun!"
Tord resisted the urge to roll his eye. Instead, he addressed the monster. "Come on, Tom – we're going to the enclosure." He had been timing the minutes the moment Tom transformed, and if his numbers were correct Tom was due to transform in his full form very soon.
He adjusted the settings of his robotic arm and flipped on a laser pointer on the tip of his index finger. Tord cast the little red dot just ahead of the monster, where it instantly uncurled from its position at the sight of it, abandoning the toys to give chase.
Leading the way to the enclosure Tord made sure to guide the monster with the laser at all times. It was quicker this way, rather than trying to command it to follow him or dragging it by its tail all the way over there which usually earns him a few warning bites to his robotic arm. The monster pounced and chased after the little red light, occasionally slamming its paws down in a desperate attempt to catch it.
They eventually reached the enclosure's gates. Tord led the asset inside and turned off the laser after shutting the gates behind them. The monster's eyes peered around wildly before finally fixing on Tord, tail drooping in disappointment.
"Okay, so be free to go ahead and do your thing and we can continue your training. I'm ready whenever you are."
The monster approached him, and let out a soft growl of comprehension.
It wasn't long before the asset started shifting into its larger form. Its eyes conjoined into one – Tord winced at the scene, thinking how painful this particular process must be – and it began to grow at a rapid rate, shredding its clothes as it grew much too large for them – Tord winced yet again, remembering his tailors' distress every time he had to order more test subject clothes for Tom. He really needs to find a fix for this – until the monster finally stood at its full glory with a thundering roar.
Tord steepled his hands in front of his face as he gazed at his greatest creation with pride and awe. No matter how many times he witnesses the transformation occur, he can never get quite used to it.
The monster shook its dark purple pelt before fixing its single eyeless socket on Tord.
He carefully extended his arm out towards it. "Alright, Tom, let's start with a simple command shall we?" He snapped his fingers and pointed down. "Sit!"
Expecting the monster to obey, Tord wasn't at all prepared for it to suddenly roll over on its back and start rubbing its back and shoulders against the cold, smooth floor; paws flailing in the air as it purred.
Tord frowned. "I said sit, not roll over."
He watched the monster roll around for a little bit, resting its head back to peer at him upside down. Forked tongue lolling from the side of its jaws as it panted. From this angle it almost looked as though it was smiling at him.
"Come on, Tom – stop fooling around." Tord pushed against the monster's snout to direct it to stand. "Let's try again, shall we?"
With what sounded like a displeased grumble to Tord's ears, the monster rolled over and scrambled to its paws, pausing briefly to fluff out its pelt.
Tord lifted one hand toward it, palm facing up. The monster glowered down at him. "How about something different then? Give me your paw!"
The monster didn't move an inch.
"Shake!" Tord insisted, waving his hand at it.
At last, the asset appeared to obey as it slowly lifted one massive paw towards him. Excitement surged through Tord. At long last, they were making progress! But his excitement instantly died out when the paw bowled him over and pinned him firmly to the ground.
"No, Tom! I didn't mean it like that!" Tord yelled in frustration as he struggled against the paw holding him down, feeling like a mouse trapped by a cat.
The monster towered over him, uttering a sound deep in its throat that seems to be a weird mixture of growling and laughter. It thrust its muzzle closer to his face. For one terrifying moment, Tord considered the possibility of the monster reverting back to its violent nature and gore him here and now. But he had to have faith that the treatment was working, and that whatever semblance of control Tom currently has in this form would be enough to keep it docile.
Tom wouldn't hurt him.
"Off!" Tord commanded, his voice firm as he nudged the monster away. "Now!"
For once, the monster actually obeyed and released him, stepping away to give him enough space to stand up. Tord fixed his uniform as he scrambled to his feet, and then looked up to set his sights on the monster.
Tail wagging, it dropped into a crouch and stared at him expectantly.
"I know you are in there somewhere, Tom. And I understand how it might be difficult for you to gain control after all these years of being dormant, but I need you to make a little more effort here." Tord sighed. "I am doing what I can to help you, but you gotta do your part too. Can you cooperate with me here, please?"
The monster stood up again and opened its jaws wide in a massive yawn, forked tongue curling up before it snapped its mouth shut and shook itself.
"Let's try this again then. Sit!" He motioned down.
This time, the asset promptly obeyed and sat down.
"Good boy!" Tord rubbed its velvety muzzle as it leaned down toward him. He gave it a few more simple commands such as shake, roll over, and lay down – basic dog tricks – and it complied beautifully without fail. Tord reward it with a chunk of meat.
"Alright Tom, now we're going to try something new and more advanced." Tord instructed, excitement buzzing through him. He lifted his robotic arm high in the air, making sure the monster could see what he was doing, and he abruptly pulled back his thumb to reveal a lighter. "Brann!" He ignited a tiny flame.
The monster tipped its head to one side, visibly confused by the new command.
"Brann!" Tord flickered the flame on and off and kept repeating himself to make his point. "Can you see where I am going with this? Brann. Fire! Breathe fire!"
It took several tries, but Tord was very patient the entire time he tried to get the monster to breathe fire on command. At first it only blew small plumes of flames, which was a start but not the rampaging stream of fiery h#ll he wanted. Regardless, Tord rewarded it with small pieces of meat each time to keep it motivated.
"One last time – brann!"
The monster reared back and unleashed a blast of fire – bigger than all the previous ones. Smoke billowed out of its mouth and circled its horns.
"Very good! That's all for fire breathing for today, I think." Tord said, tossing another small piece of meat to it.
The monster snapped its jaws shut as it swallowed, then proceeded to lower itself to the floor and lie down with its head between its paws.
Tord approached it cautiously. "I know you're getting tired, but… may I try one last thing with you before we call it a day?"
The asset steadily stared back at him, but did not respond. Not that Tord expected it to.
He walked around it, pausing by the shoulders. His heart was hammering in his chest as he climbed the monster, parting through the long strands of purple fur to quickly settle himself on the back of its neck. The reaction was instant. The monster abruptly jumped to its feet with an indignant growl, fur bristling, and shook itself to try and get him off. Tord held on for dear life, firmly grasping tufts of fur in his hands to keep from falling off.
"Whoa! It's okay, Tom! It's just me!-"
His words cut off as the monster started jumping around, clearly trying to dislodge him off. Tord remained strong. It shook itself furiously, rearing up and roaring and jumping erratically, doing everything in its power to throw Tord off. It definitely doesn't like him up here, does it?
It was an insane idea to begin with, ridiculously dangerous and he wouldn't hear the end of it from Patrick if the General ever finds out about this, but Tord wondered what it would be like to ride on the monster's back. The vision of him charging into battle riding the monster and issuing orders on its back seemed really appealing and Tord couldn't resist giving it a try.
All of the sudden, Tord found himself smothered in purple fur as the monster rolled over, nearly crushing him beneath its bulk. The breath driven out of him, his face buried in its fur, he fought to catch his breath and stay calm.
Tord sent a fervent thanks to the heavens when the monster soon clambered to its paws and he was finally allowed to breathe properly, still clinging to its back.
When the monster roared and started thrashing around again, Tord had had enough and he urgently ran his hands through its thick fur in an attempt to pacify it. "Shhh… it's alright, Tom. It's just me." He soothed. "There there – you are not in any danger. Everything is okay!"
It took several minutes but gradually the monster started to calm down, its fur slowly lying flat again as it slid its front paws forward until it laid down. Tord allowed himself to relax as well and loosened his hold on the monster now that he wasn't in danger of being tossed off. Not bad for a first time, all things considered.
Climbing down its shoulder, Tord swiftly slid down and jumped off. He patted the monster on the side of its head. "Good boy! That's enough training for today." He praised on his way past to sit on one of the monster's large paws, pulling up his robotic arm to type down his observations of the day.
"Somewhat stubborn at first, the asset is capable of following simple commands with ease and learns fast; though further training is required if it is to be unleashed on the front lines someday. Still no clear confirmation that the test subject is in fact aware of its behaviour and actions in this form."
A blast of air from behind him ruffled his hair, and Tord knew that the monster was leaning down, trying to peer over him to look at the screen as he typed as though it were interested in what he was saying about it. Tord grinned slyly, greatly amused by the monster's endearing curiosity when he was hit with an idea.
He whipped around and pressed a kiss on top of the monster's snout.
Startled, the monster reared back in surprise. Tord chuckled at its reaction only to be caught off guard as it stooped forward and returned the favour by giving him a long, drawn out soggy lick right in his face. Tord ducked away and sputtered, rubbing his wet face with one hand. "Alright, I deserved that one."
Looking at the digital clock on his robotic arm Tord realized just how late it's gotten. How time flies fast when you are training a giant monster!
Just as he was about to get up, Tord slipped off the paw he was sitting on unexpectedly as the monster stood up instead. Tord watched as it circled him briefly before curling up around him, tucking him in and pressing his back against its side as its tail curled around them.
Tord didn't think too much of it until he tried to stand up and leave, only for the monster to stop him with a warning growl. Tord tensed and promptly leaned back against its side. "Tom, I have to go. I will come back to check on you later, I promise." He urged, worried about checking the status of his army.
But the monster didn't comply. If anything, it curled itself tighter around him, resting its muzzle between its paws and closing its eye.
Tord knew he should probably insist to get up and leave, but he found himself drained of all energy. He blinked blearily, lifting one hand to his forehead to feel his temperature. He was too warm. Maybe he's more sick than he realized – pile that up with the fact he spent the entire night working instead of sleeping might explain why he feels like sh#t right now. And the monster was just so warm and soft beside him… the thought of taking a nap right here and now seemed very appealing to his fever induced dazed mind.
A few minutes of shut-eye won't do any harm. Tord reasoned with himself as he snuggled deeper into the monster's side. Paul and Patrick can handle the army without me for the day. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing.
He didn't know how long he was out for. Could range from a couple of minutes to a few hours at most when he was startled awake by the sudden disappearance of the weight he'd been leaning against. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eye, Tord sat up with a jolt and looked around for the source of the disturbance only to realize that the monster was gone, and in its place was Tom; curled up around him still asleep, naked, and with his arms wrapped around one of Tord's thighs.
Tord's whole face turned beet red at the realization of his predicament. He didn't know whether to pry his leg away and risk waking Tom up, or stay still and let the eyeless man sleep; blissfully unaware of the situation, to avoid further embarrassment for both of them.
"Uh… Red Leader?"
Apparently he doesn't get to decide that, as he lifted his gaze to find both Paul and Patrick standing by the enclosure's gates and openly staring at them. Tord blushed harder. Paul was biting down one of his fingers to suppress his laughter, and Pat's expression was a mixture of embarrassment and bewilderment as he gazed at them.
Å fy faen. Tord cursed his luck, wishing the ground would swallow him whole.
