A harsh brightness made Tom blink as he stepped out of the tent in the morning. It had apparently snowed in the night. Despite being summer, the altitude and the temperature drop during the night had been cold enough to bring about a thin layer of snow coating the ground that would undoubtedly melt as the day goes on.
"So this is Norway, huh?" Tomsaid as he looked out over the mountain to admire the endless miles of land stretching out all around him. He sat down on a boulder. "I must say, it's a lot greener than I'd imagined."
A jovial laughter greeted his words. He turned to see Tord approach him with their breakfast in hand. "Well, what did you expect? A bleak, frozen tundra populated by snowmen?" Tord said, accommodating himself across Tom's lap snugly.
The unexpected action unsettled Tom greatly at first. Then he relaxed, reminding himself that Tord was just unfamiliar with these sorts of things and was just… feeling affectionate. He'll have to have a conversation with him about boundaries at a later date. For now though, his main concern was the matter of where his hand placement should be.
Settling on one hand behind Tord's head and another over his legs, Tom chuckled. "Truth be told, I don't know what I expected." He stole a bite out of the bread from Tord's hand, earning a playful glare from him.
"You have seen nothing yet. Just you wait!" Tord stated proudly. The prospect of showing Tom around his homeland made him greatly excited. He could hardly wait. "You're gonna love it here!"
They continued to eat and chat, enjoying the crisp morning breeze and each other's company. At one point, Tord alternated between both actions and peppering Tom's face with kisses. He was just so happy and light he couldn't help himself. Tord studied the Brit's face for his reaction. From what he'd seen of Paul and Pat's interactions, couples demonstrate affection through lots of kisses; so he wasn't doing anything weird here, right? Would Tom be opposed to that? Tom stood so still after what he did there was a tiny part of Tord that worried he may have overstepped. But then a crimson hue flushed over his face and Tom ducked his head away shyly. Tord grinned. He loves how flustered Tom gets.
"So once you're supreme leader of the world, will the new currency be called Tord-ollars?" Tom asked, half-joking and half-serious in an attempt to brush off his embarrassment.
"Absolutely not." Tord shook his head, wrinkling his nose with mild disappointment. "Sounds too much like toddlers."
Tom snorted. "Riiight. We wouldn't want that misunderstanding from happening. "Excuse me, how much for the carton of eggs, kind sir?" "Two whole Tord-ollars, m'am." "Two toddlers?! Jimmy. Cadence. You have two minutes to say goodbye to the rest of your siblings!"
Tord laughed and booped him on the nose. "Idiot!"
"Paul and Pat are picking us up tomorrow, right?"
Tord nodded. "Around evening." He nestled closer to Tom, leaning his head against his shoulder with a dreamy sigh.
"Great. Have you figured out how you're going to break the news to them yet? About us. Dating. And stuff." Tom reminded.
Unexpected tiny starbursts of joy exploded all throughout Tord's body, from his toes to his ears. He was red all the way through his soul. He felt absolute giddy with the implication of his words.
That's right! I am Tord, Leader of the Red Army, and Tom's boyfriend! Could there be a greater title than that? Tord highly doubted.
"What's there to figure out?" Tord said. "They're going to be insufferable when they find out, for sure." God, I can hear their shrills of excitement already. "But there's nothing really I need to prepare them for, if that's what you mean."
He is taking this waaaay too well. Tom thought. "If you're so sure." He shrugged and turned his gaze away, lifting his head to the cloudless pale blue sky.
"What's on your mind?" Tord asked.
"Nothing, really." Tom shook his head. "I just… I want to enjoy my time out here as much as possible before I go back to being cooped up again."
Cooped up? Tord thought with a small flicker of dismay. Sure, he treated Tom like a prisoner when he first arrived in the base, and they had their fair share of fights, and he forced Tom into a lot of things he didn't want. But it's not like that anymore. Tom knows that, right? He is so much more valuable than a prisoner, or a test subject, or even a soldier.
Still doesn't change the fact that he pretty much forced Tom into this lifestyle. For that Tord felt a little guilty.
"Back when… my life had an expiration date… I learned to appreciate the littlest of things. But I guess I did not appreciate my freedom hard enough, because when I was kidnapped and brought here I was so sure I wouldn't see the sky ever again." Tom continued. His voice was soft but not entirely sad. "You know, at one point I even considered the idea of actually celebrating Christmas with Edd and Matt. Just to make what I thought was the last time I have to go through the God forsaken holiday more meaningful for them. But then I realized that if I did that they would've definitely been able to tell I was up to something haha."
The funny thing is that the voice told him way back when, that Edd and Matt would celebrate their first proper Christmas with him finally out of the picture once he fulfils his promise. In a way, the voice's premonition came true. But not in the way Tom had expected.
Tord climbed off his lap to sit beside him. He then looked up at the sun, shining brightly over the mountain landscape, and thought how easily he took it for granted. Tord's gaze fixed on the ground pensively as he intertwined his robotic fingers with Tom's.
"Tom, are you… happy here?"
Am I? Tom paused to contemplate.
He's doing much better now than when he first arrived, and definitely the most happy he's ever felt in the last decade. However, a small part of him insisted he should rebel. To accept his life the way as it is now would mean he doesn't mind going through all the awful sh#t he was subjected to when he very much minds. Although it did ultimately lead him to where he is now… hadn't he been kidnapped, Tom might not be alive today. And in the end, he did get to make new friends in the most unusual of places; learned to better understand and control his powers; and now even started a relationship with the guy who not so long ago had been his nemesis.
Life is funny that way.
Tom smiled. "Yeah… I'd say so."
He is worried about the future, of course. His role in the upcoming war greatly concerned him, but for Tord's sake he is willing to put his misgivings aside and be supportive of his goals.
"Are you sure?" Tord asked. "Because if you're not, then… it's not too late for you to back out, if you want. I can give you anything you need and if you'd rather do something else then I'll support you all the way. I won't mind."
Tom turned to him perplexed. "Wait. Commie, are you… are you giving me the chance... to leave?"
Tord ducked his head nervously and scratched the back of his head. "Well… yeah." He locked eyes with Tom. "The first time I 'asked' you to join the Red Army was hardly fair, anyway. But I want to give you that choice now."
A part of Tord, the Red Leader within him, was screaming at him to stop talking. To take back his words, say "just kidding" and never let go of Tom and keep him all to himself so that they could rule the world together. But Tord endured the tempting idea for Tom's sake.
He held back a sigh as Tom's hand slipped away from his own; already dreading to hear the eager and desperate confirmation. Tord observed him rise to his feet and walk past, lifting his head to gaze out toward the horizon.
"If I leave… where would I go?" Tom breathed, hair buffeting against the breeze.
Tord shrugged. "Anywhere you want." He stood up, stepping closer to him. "The choice is entirely yours."
"But what about your plans for a secret weapon? After all your hard work…"
"You don't need to concern yourself with that."
When the offer was made, only one possibility instantly came to Tom's mind. One so exhilarating that it made Tom's heart ache at the thought. However, fear and doubt impeded him from outright taking the opportunity to do so.
Tord was by his side, searching his expression carefully. "They will be glad to have you back, Tom." He said, as though he could read Tom's thoughts. "They mourned for you, and they miss you. I saw it myself. They would do anything to have you back."
"I know." Tom sighed, his gaze downcast. "But they think I'm dead. How could I possibly explain to them what happened to me after everything I put them through?"
"If you're worried about giving away my involvement or any of the specifics, we can elaborate a believable story for you to use as an explanation. It has been done before."
"What do you mean?" Tom demanded.
"In order to avoid suspicion, we often help our recruits join our midsts by coming up with believable reasons should they ever be questioned on their whereabouts. Same for full time soldiers who wish to fake their deaths and start over from scratch." Tord explained. "My men are very good at what they do. We can figure something out together, Tom. Explaining to them where you've been and what happened won't be an issue."
"That's not it. Well, at least not all of it."
Hands fidgeting with each other, Tom turned away from him.
"What is it then?"
"Let's just say you're not the only one who owes them an apology for being a sh#tty friend…" He trailed off, then shot a guilty look at the Norwegian man. "Uh, n-no offense." He added hastily. Tord gave him an awkward nod, as though agreeing with him.
"I am sure you couldn't have possibly done worse than what I did." Tord murmured, a hint of bitterness laced in his voice.
Tom looked away. "The night Paul and Patrick captured me… I said some awful stuff to them. T-they confronted me on my strange behaviour. They were onto me! I was scared they would find out the truth about me, or that my resolve would crumble so I… I lashed out at them." His eyes clenched shut. "I had no idea that was the last time I would see them! In my head, there was still some time left before… God, I nearly struck Matt, too! If Edd hadn't stopped me-"
"But what worries you the most? Them not forgiving you, or having to explain to them what was going on with you back then?" Tord asked.
"... Both?"
"They think you're dead, Tom. The pain of losing a close friend is going to have wiped away any bad deeds you may have done, and they probably feel just as bad as you do that that was your last interaction. If you go back, they will understand." Tord broke in roughly. "As for telling them about your condition... you don't have to tell them. If you don't want to, that is. You can simply tell them that you were in a bad place before, but you're doing much better now. No need to give them all the details if it makes you uncomfortable."
There was sense to what he was saying. Tom glimpsed Tord's eye glow with conviction as he spoke. He just wants me to be happy.
Still, Tom couldn't stop his old fears from resurfacing. The possibility of seeing them again; facing the judgment and the potential rejection… Tom doesn't know what he would do should the worst happen.
He shook his head. "Too much time has passed since then." He murmured softly. "For good or for worse, we've all changed. They might miss me, but it doesn't change the fact that they moved on from me at this point. If I were to go back to them now…" I could ruin everything for them. "My apartment is probably rented out to someone else by now. I would have to live with one of them until I find my own place, and I really don't want to cause them any unnecessary trouble."
"Again; my organization and I would give you all the necessary means you need to live out there should you choose to leave. Finances and accommodations won't be an issue, Tom." Tord reminded.
"I get that. And I appreciate it. But I don't want to go back to them only to pretend like nothing ever happened." Tom explained, pressing his hands together anxiously. "While I miss them dearly, too much has changed for things to go back to the way they were, and truth be told… I'm not sure I want that for myself anymore."
Yes, their adventures had been great and he will always cherish the memories of their time spent together; but now that he is mostly healed of his condition and with his will to live partially restored, Tom wants more out of his life beyond just goofy thrills.
Problem is, he wasn't too sure of what he's looking for either.
Tord held his gaze for a moment, and then dipped his head. "I understand. I know exactly how you feel. While I do care for them in my own way too, I know what it is like to yearn for more outside of your comfort zone. Sometimes we must leave what we love behind in order to learn more about ourselves."
Tom's gaze clouded at his words in surprise. Leave what we love? He wondered.
"What about you? Would you ever go back and see them again?" Tom dared to ask.
Tord looked away. His skin burned. "One day, maybe. Not sure when. Definitely not sure how. But I do plan to see them again someday in the distant future. I would like to properly apologize, since our last encounter ended in a pretty sour note – and hopefully explain to them my side of the story." He gazed at Tom meaningfully. "If I can have your blessing first, that is."
His words stirred confusion in Tom until he remembered the deal they struck on his first night in the base. Tord won't go anywhere near them unless Tom gives him his say so.
Tom smiled. "Maybe we could go and face them together then. When we're both ready." He tentatively grabbed hold of Tord's hand. His real hand. "Would you like that?"
He noted with amusement how Tord's face seemed to light up with a pale tinge of red at the contact, and turned his gaze away from him, nodding shyly.
Even though the Norwegian kissed his face and even sat on his lap earlier, both the warm contact and the meaning behind Tom's proposition greatly moved Tord and he could hardly bring himself to make eye contact with the Brit.
"Yes. I would be far more relieved and confident if you were there with me when that fateful day comes." Tord spoke up again once he composed himself. "Even so, if you do decide to leave you don't necessarily have to go back to them, if that's the case. You can go anywhere you'd like. Do whatever you want. The possibilities are endless for you."
Tom replayed his words through his mind over and over again. To leave the Red Army now would mean escaping the dreadful role of weapon of war and not have to be responsible for any more deaths. But where could he possibly go from here? What can he do? Should he choose to leave, the possibilities for his future would be endless. He would be free to do whatever he wants.
And the thought frightens him.
The unknown. The uncertainty. A future not made clear, and with no direction. Not knowing what awaits him out there. There were just too many variables.
At least here in the Red Army, Tom knows what he is supposed to do. His purpose is clear. His path is already set for him. And having the company and support of Tord, Paul, and Patrick helps immensely as well. He would be all by himself out there. And who is he without his friends?
Sensing Tom's uncertainty and hesitation, Tord looked closely at him for a moment, his eye narrow. "You don't have to give me your answer now." He said, giving Tom's hand a firm and gentle squeeze. "I'll give you some time to think about it, but only until our ride back to the base arrives. Give me your answer then."
Tom stared at him anxiously.
"Please understand, Tom. I need to be able to trust in your loyalty to the Red Army." Tord explained, blinking at him sympathetically. "Once you go through the welcoming ceremony and swear the oath to us, there is no going back. You will be expected to serve us with your very life if necessary. There's no room for uncertainty in our midsts. Please do think carefully, Tom."
After a few heartbeats of silence between them, Tom nodded his head in understanding and released a silent sigh.
"So…" Tom started, his voice light. "What- what are we going to do until then?"
"Anything you want, really." Tord responded quietly.
"I think I'm going to take a short walk by myself, if that's okay." Tom padded away, climbing an earthy trail of stones and frozen grass. "I need some time alone to think about things."
"Do what you feel is right, Thomas." Tord called after him. "Just don't go too far off, and make sure to be back by sunset. You don't want to be wandering the mountains after dark."
Peering out towards the vast landscape that stretched out before him as he walked, Tom couldn't be more conflicted. A part of him kinda wished Tord had never extended him the offer to leave. Having no choice in the matter was scary, but actually deciding what he wants to do with his life is even scarier. What if he makes the wrong decision? What if he regrets his decision later? Could people get hurt because of him if he does? Should he only think of his own needs, or should he take others' into consideration as well?
It's times like this Tom really wished he could have some sort of sign to tell him which direction to take.
(Meanwhile…)
After spending the entire night awake together; watching movies, playing games, and getting to know one another, Ella and Reagan were the first ones to arrive in the Mess Hall upon morning.
They got their food and Reagan found them a nice and secluded spot, away from the other tables where Ella could eat in peace without feeling self-conscious with every bite she eats.
It wasn't long before the rest of their comrades began to file in sluggishly and populate the area, although not by much. Breakfast is the least busy time of the day, usually because most soldiers often prefer to sleep in a few more minutes until assembling in the Great Hall for the obligatory gathering before officially starting the day.
"I don't know how you can go through with this every night, Reagan." Ella said, sipping her tea. "Go through every single day without sleep? Doesn't it seem like the days have no end? How do you stay sane?"
Reagan chuckled and shrugged. "It ain't so bad when you're the one living like this. It's great, actually! More freedom and time for me, and I wouldn't have it any other way!"
She studied his face carefully, her eye tracing the small zigzagging scar he bore on his left cheek just below his eye. Overnight she learned an awful lot about Reagan. Mainly his interests. He is… fascinating, to say the least.
His constant disregard for rules and authority both intrigued and worried her greatly.
Ella stared at him uneasily. "Still… it's a little unsettling to think that while we're all asleep, you're just lurking around the hallways aimlessly."
"I don't see why that is. It's not as if I'm planning on harming anyone." Reagan looked up at her for a moment, narrowing his big green eyes and smiling at her. "Besides, I think we can agree that I'm far from the most dangerous thing in this base that could be wandering through these halls."
He didn't miss the way her muscles tensed as he indirectly mentioned the source of her night terrors and grief. She averted her gaze from him and continued to sip her tea.
"But anyways," said Reagan, cracking a boiled egg against the table before peeling it. "Staying awake every night just chilling and minding my own business isn't hurting anyone, so I don't see why there should be any fuss over this. Out of all the rules in this damn place to break, you've got to admit it is a pretty tame one to disregard."
Ella opened her mouth to protest, only for him to interrupt her.
"MAROON ISN'T A SHADE OF RED!"
Reagan suddenly yelled before quickly ducking his head again and stuffing the entire boiled egg in his mouth.
Around them, their comrades perked up sleepily in surprise before breaking out into a tired cheer and applause of agreement.
"Who did it? Who said that?! Which one of you f#cking said that?" A man jumped to his feet, shoulders squared defensively and peering around the room incredulously. "Huh? Who wants to f#cking die today?"
The man in question has bronze skin, dark choppy hair and freckles sprinkles across his face and down his neck, vanishing into the collar of his uniform with the name tag on his chest labelled 'Jerome'. He was well known for his short fuse and loud temper, and was ridiculously easy to rile up much to Reagan's delight.
"But they are right though. Maroon is brown, not red."
"Looks more like purple to me."
"Dark brown with the slightest tinge of red if you squint hard enough."
"Go join the turd army!"
"YOU WANNA SQUARE-UP MOTHERF#CKER?!"
"BRING IT ON!"
"Guys, seriously. It's too early for this sh#t."
As an argument started to escalate around the Mess Hall, Reagan couldn't help but chortle with laughter while watching the on-going drama.
"Why did you do that for? That wasn't very nice." Ella spoke up across from him, her arms crossed over her chest while shooting him an anxious expression.
Reagan grinned. "Every meal should be accompanied by some form of entertainment, wouldn't you agree? It makes the food taste better somehow." He returned to observe the chaos he created and took joy in his own work, snickering to himself.
"Why do you constantly break the rules? You know you're going to get in trouble." Ella's question snagged his attention. "Maybe if you were to simply follow them, do as you're told, and be nicer toward others everything would go much smoother for you."
"Oh, please." Reagan snorted and rolled his eyes. "When have the rules ever benefited anyone? They're just there to be an inconvenience, and keep the weaker and less privileged members from acquiring power easily and maintain them in order."
Right down to the bottom of the food chain. He thought bitterly.
"The rules are there for a reason. To keep us safe." Ella argued, narrowing her eye. "And how can you say that after you got yourself demoted? Maybe if you hadn't been off breaking every single conceivable rule then the Red Leader wouldn't have demoted you."
Her words stirred quite the wrath within Reagan; brewing darkly underneath the laidback facade he hides behind like a raging rainstorm. It took absolutely every fibre of his being not to crack and teach the insolent girl not to speak of matters she did not understand. The blade he keeps tucked away in the inner pocket of his uniform was practically calling to him. But Reagan endured it. All the years of training in that forsaken organization, and having his mentor constantly hammer him over the head – sometimes quite literally! – to maintain his patience and keep his eye on the prize came back to him.
I still need her. She hasn't fulfilled her usefulness yet. I need her! Reagan told himself over and over to keep his rage in check. If I want to get back at Red I am gonna need her.
He gradually smothered the flames of his anger until they were merely a simmering ember. Doll face sure knows how to press my buttons. He snickered to himself.
With his best smile and a low chuckle, he met her gaze and replied. "Oh no, Doll face. You got it all wrong." He casually flicked a tiny bread crumb off the table. "I didn't get demoted because I broke the rules. I got demoted because I followed them."
Sensing her immediate confusion following his statement, Reagan went on.
"Red Leader personally endorsed me in the Recruitment Program and tasked me with a mission to bring him five recruits. I went to all the briefings, sat through all the boring lectures of what to do and what not to do, went out of my way to fulfil my mission in record time – and sure, I may have broken a few minor rules here and there along the way to get sh#t done, but I did so with the best of intentions at heart and the army's wellbeing in mind." He explained. "And yet when I came back and delivered the recruits to the system… I got my ass handed to me and got demoted for no reason whatsoever!"
Ella blinked round eyed. "That can't be right. Surely you must've done something really bad to warrant such a harsh punishment? Red Leader is not unfair. The few rules you broke were probably very important to the operation, otherwise they wouldn't exist."
"I would agree with you if breaking said rules actually jeopardized the army in any way. But it didn't! I wouldn't have broken the rules if I wasn't sure I could handle the risks that came with them." Reagan scoffed. "I had everything fully under control, and brought five good recruits for Red without any problems and still got punished! What's up with that?"
Ella remained quiet as she listened to him rant. If what he is saying is true then the extent of his punishment really doesn't make any sense. Why would the Red Leader overreact like that? Especially when Reagan's hard and admittedly impressive work was more of a benefit than a detriment to the army?
No wonder Reagan was so bitter.
"Even so, don't you think you should stay out of trouble regardless?" She questioned. "Your loyalty and obedience is the least you can offer after the Red Army took you in. Surely you are much better off now than wherever you were before joining?"
For a moment Reagan seemed to be caught off guard. Her words caused him to reflect a little bit on his past.
"I suppose..." He conceded at long last. "But you know, you'd be a lot more fun without that goody two shoes attitude of yours."
Ella gasped. "I'm like, the most easy going person I know!"
"Oh yeah. Right! You're totally laid back." Reagan rolled his eyes. "You really need to relax, Doll face. Why are you so uptight all the time? You always follow the rules!"
"Of course I do! I don't want to get in trouble. Does that make me a big loser in your eyes?"
"Maybe. Maybe not." Reagan said vaguely, shrugging. "But in all seriousness, why do you follow the rules so damn much?"
"Because as long as I am nice and follow the rules things will turn out good for me." Ella responded with clear conviction in her voice as she met his gaze.
"Oh really?" Reagan narrowed his eyes, tipping his head. "If that's the case, then… how come you still ended up losing everything of value to you? If you did everything right then all of this sh#t shouldn't have happened to you."
Ella flinched as though she'd been slapped. Raw grief tore at her heart as memories of that dreadful night resurfaced in her brain, and she had to look away and will herself not to tear up. Her hands clenched into fists.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to be blunt with you, but this way of thinking that you have clearly didn't work out. Bad sh#t happens; it doesn't matter if you are a troublemaker or not. That's just the truth." Reagan leaned back in his seat and sighed. "You might wanna reconsider your values there, Doll face."
The rest of breakfast went by in a flash.
Soon they made their way to the Great Hall with the rest of their comrades. Soldiers began to emerge from their quarters in hushed tones, a flowing mass of blue and red uniforms all heading in the same direction. Reagan kept a close keen eye on all the pawns that he has current influence over; noting all their individual uses to himself.
Ella and Reagan were one of the last few to enter the Great Hall. The other soldiers of the Red Army were all gathered, with the five Generals sitting close together on a stage along with Commander Paul standing with the podium facing the crowd.
But it didn't escape Reagan's notice that the imposing presence of their great and powerful leader was absent on the stage. Again.
He and Ella sat together at the very back, overlooking the crowd and stage as Paul tapped the mic and cleared his throat.
"Good morning, reds!" He began, and then added with amusement. "And maroon."
Hearty laughter rippled through the crowd.
In the corner of his eye, sitting in a row diagonal to his, Reagan noticed Jerome tense up with barely suppressed irritation before the soldier sitting to his right placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. Reagan couldn't help but grin.
"Red Leader had last minute urgent matters to attend to and unfortunately couldn't be present to address all of you here today."
Reagan tuned out Paul's voice as the Commander began the gathering with a brief report of recent events happening throughout the entire Red Army. A few of the Generals spoke up here and there to report on their own individual divisions and the progress being made so far. Blah blah blah. And then things got slightly more interesting once the Shades Cup was mentioned.
"For all the new recruits who have joined our ranks this year; the Shades Cup is an annual event where members of each corridor compete against one other in a series of friendly competitions." Explained the Commander. "The corridor with the highest score by the end of autumn will be crowned the best shade of red and win the Chalice of Shades. At least until next year's games, that is."
Quiet murmurs of excitement spread throughout the crowd. A buzz of anticipation was rising among the soldiers.
Reagan grinned.
While the competition was the most anticipated event in the organization – second only to the actual rise of the Red Army and their plans for world domination finally being put into motion – Reagan's only interest in the whole thing are the many opportunities to mess around with everybody, make deals and wagers to strengthen his influence, and steal sh#t. Reagan also has the annual tradition of stealing the trophy from the winning corridor and hide it in absurd places, just so he could see the chaos that would ensue from that.
But to everyone else in this wretched base, it was just a fun event where they get to mess around with their besties while going through harsh training hours and strict cleaning duties.
Another way to solidify the bond and trust of the soldiers, and make the entire army a true force to be reckoned with.
Reagan glanced at Ella, seated beside him. He couldn't help noticing the sadness and focus in the girl's single green eye as she kept her gaze fixed on the stage below, listening to all of the reports intently. Like a good little loyal soldier.
Her insistent loyalty to authority in general and Red is grating on my nerves. Reagan thought, scratching his stubble. If I want to get down to the bottom of this quicker I need to make her lose that trust. Give her a reason to throw all caution to the wind. But how?
"Now," Paul's voice cut through his thoughts. "Does anyone have a question or an issue they would like to address?"
When none of the thousands of soldiers present in the Great Hall spoke up, the Commander brought the gathering to a close and dismissed them.
The hallways flooded with soldiers bustling about, heading off in different directions to begin their duties for the day as they exited the Great Hall. Reagan and Ella, alongside a few of their comrades, paused in front of the giant digital board in one of the corridors to check if they were in line for duty today.
Every week the board updates to showcase which squadrons were scheduled for border patrols and training hours at the gym for each day of the week, and who has been tasked with cleaning or kitchen duties for the duration of the week.
Apparently, Reagan was in luck. Not only is his division of newbies not scheduled for training today, but it seems as though Doll Face was off duty as well! A whole day to work on her with no lousy interruptions foiling his plans.
Next to the digital screen was a bulletin board, where anyone can put up announcements for off-duty activities they're organizing in case people wish to join in. Things such as; movie or show marathons in the cinema room, video game tournaments, karaoke nights, trips to the city, bets on card games, baking – really, any pastime one can think of.
And stationed near every board in the base was a map of the entire facility, and a bowl of contraceptives; free for everyone to use for special fun times with only a comical warning to "sock it before you dock it" with a rather crude drawing someone made as a joke of a sausage getting sliced in half. Reagan snickered. Red Leader must've figured he couldn't possibly control the actions of thousands of soldiers all the time, so he allowed his soldiers to do whatever so long as it doesn't get out of hand.
So far it seems to be working, as Reagan never heard of any scandalous news throughout the base since he first joined. And he is usually the first one to know about these sorts of things.
With the day free from any work for both of them, Reagan wrapped an arm around Ella's shoulders and decided to continue his progress with her where they had last left off. "Wanna head down to the Entertainment Hall again?" He asked her, already knowing she has no choice in the matter.
After traversing the long hallways they arrived in the game room. Some of their comrades were already there; huddled together on a table playing card games, or sprawled on the couch with controllers in their hands. But otherwise, the room wasn't crowded.
Ella and Reagan settled for a game of Ping-Pong. Something simple, but fun. And to make things slightly more interesting; each point scored grants the winner a chance to ask a loser any question they want. It makes it a good opportunity to get to know each other a little better.
"Yes! Point for me!" The one-eyed soldier cheered with joy.
"Boo! What? Lame." Reagan muttered with mock complaint, turning around to mark another point on the blackboard behind him. Ella's side of the score had considerably more points than Reagan's side. "Fine. Ask your question."
Ella contemplated, twirling the racket in her hands. "You mentioned swinging both ways last night." She recalled their night-long talk when they got to know each other a little better. "What do you look for in a partner of each gender?"
Reagan tipped his head thoughtfully. "I am not picky when it comes to girls. I like all of 'em fine. Guys however…" He paused, swooning. "I only have eyes for really big, buff men with lots of muscles and the capability of snapping me in half while doing it."
"Wow. That's… strangely specific." Ella blinked.
"What can I say? I have a thing for getting crushed." Reagan shrugged with a grin.
"So in other words… you are a top, waiting to be out-topped?"
Now it was Reagan's turn to blink in bewilderment before he burst in a fit laughter. "Haven't heard that one before! I like it! I might add that to my profile bio. In any case, I believe that was two questions you just asked."
Ella ducked her head. "Sorry."
"No harm done." Reagan picked up the ball and got ready to serve. "Shall we continue?"
"Actually, shouldn't we put the game on pause and start heading for the Mess Hall? It's almost lunch time." Ella pointed out.
Reagan frowned. "Why bother? You've seen the menu. It's tuna sandwiches today. Yuck!" His face cringed with disgust at the thought. Just the smell of fish alone was enough to get him retching. "You can go if you want to, but imma stay here if you don't mind and… I don't know, play video games while the TV is unoccupied. With everyone gone to lunch I am free to do whatever here."
It was at that moment she felt the burning sensation of being watched. Ella scanned her surroundings and caught the eye of a few soldiers huddled together on a nearby table, bending their heads close together and conversing quietly to each other as they shot her anxious looks. They looked away the moment she caught their gaze, and pretended as though they were just about to get up and leave anyway.
Ella sighed, trying to not feel hurt by the rejection. You would think she'd grown used to it by now.
"Something wrong, Doll face?" Reagan asks, sensing her change of mood.
"You may be my only friend now." She said gloomily. "Possibly forever."
"Well, hey, if you're only going to have one, I'm not such a bad one to have." He joked. Or at least, she thought he was joking.
Ella lowered her head. "Hearing about the Shades Cup in the morning gathering today reminded me of my squadron. How we used to give it our all for the Burgundy Wing and have fun. But now there's no point in competing if everyone wants nothing to do with me. Well… everyone except you, Reagan. But still…"
Reagan watched her through narrowed eyes. "I know I haven't scored a point in our game for, heh, quite a while now but may I ask you something? If it's not too bold of me?"
Ella fixed her gaze back to him and gave him a tiny nod.
"Why- or better yet- how did you end up joining the Red Army?"
She proceeded to explain to him her story. What her life was like growing up in England, how demanding and strict her family was, and how their high expectations of her led her to her fear of rejection and failure. And when the worst happened, and she got rejected by the university her parents were counting on her to apply for, she turned to her one and only good friend for help.
"I met Zach in my last year of high school. I bumped into him on my way out of the library, and we just hit it off right away. We became friends. I started to confide in him with all my concerns and dreams the more we hang out. He was a really good listener." She said with a clear wistful tone. "And when I got rejected he was the first person that came to mind who I thought would help comfort me. I would sooner run away from home than face my family's judgement and… well, I was desperate. Desperate enough that Zach extended me the offer to join the Red Army. And… I think you can figure out the rest from there."
"And your family?" Reagan pressed.
She shrugged. "Told them I got a scholarship in a prestigious college outside the country, and that I would continue working and send money back to them."
Reagan eyed her for a moment, watching the grief and guilt and worry cross her features as memories of her dearest friend swept over her. Clearly this was very painful for her to talk about… finally, something I can use! An idea slipped into his head.
Making sure that he was in her line of vision Reagan glanced away, feigning concern, before shifting his feet as though in discomfort.
Ella caught on to his body language. "What?"
Reagan looked at her and shook his head. "Nothing, I-" He swallowed, avoiding her gaze again.
She drew closer to him. "What is it?"
"God, I really wish it didn't come to this, but…" Reagan said sombrely, shaking his head dejectedly. "You're a good person and I think you deserve to know the truth."
"What are you talking about?" Ella prompted.
Reagan took a deep breath. "Zach used to be in the Recruitment Program for years before you joined us." He steadily held her gaze. "His presence in your hometown was no coincidence, I assure you. He wasn't there just for any secret mission from the Red Army. He was there to do the same job as I did. Find more recruits to join Red Leader's cause."
Ella backed away, wide eyed. "No…"
He appeared to hesitate briefly before continuing. "In the Recruitment Program we are taught to pick targets who are struggling with their lives and would benefit the most from joining us, almost exclusively. Get close to them. Earn their trust. Learn their secrets." He locked eyes with her. "Become their friends."
Her hands clenched into fists by her sides.
"And in order to secure the recruits into our midsts we are highly recommended to even go as far as tampering with the target's life. Anything to make sure our number's grow-"
He was abruptly, and quite rudely, cut off by a vicious slap across his face. He touched his injured cheek, stunned briefly by the blow. He honestly did not see that one coming. Doll face is just full of surprises today, ain't she? He held back a grin as he looked upon the furious girl; trembling and panting with rage before him.
"You're wrong. You don't know what you're talking about! You don't know Zach the way I did! He was my friend. He was sweet, and kind, and honest. He would never stoop so low just to fulfil a mission! You do realize that by saying this, you are questioning Zach's honour and tainting his memory by making wild presumptions about him? And Zach was the most trustworthy guy I have ever known." Ella's eye clouded with pain, and Reagan felt a stab of satisfaction knowing he got under her skin and must've hurt her memory of her late friend.
He held her gaze evenly for several heartbeats. "I cannot account for Zach's intentions. Maybe you're right, and he had nothing to do with your misfortune and had only the best of intentions when he extended you that offer." He murmured. "But I know how the Recruitment Program works from personal experience. Red Leader is only after individuals who are weak and helpless, so that once he saves them, they will be indebted to serve him in return. Think about it."
Ella didn't respond. She gazed deep into Reagan's eyes and stepped back.
"Listen, you don't have to be this miserable." Reagan said softly, reaching out for her. She lifted her chin toward him wearily. "You went through something awful, but you mustn't blame yourself." He held out one hand as though offering to crush the painful memories of that dreadful night that haunt her so between his fingers. "No. Red Leader is the one to blame for your misfortune. It's all his fault. He was careless. He messed around with something that he shouldn't, and you and your friends were the one who paid the price for it. It's unfair. But when you really think about it, since when did any of us really matter to him… when there's a secret weapon under his belt?"
Ella turned away from him, shoulders drooping and her head lowered.
"We are all expandable in Red Leader's eye. Nothing more than numbers to him in order to heighten his chances of winning the world in his name. The moment we serve our purpose, we are all free game." He went on. "We don't even know who the hell he is! While all of us prance about with our freaking names displayed over our chests for everyone to know, he is only Red Leader to us. If that ain't the shadiest thing, I don't know what is! He goes off to some top super-secret mission only to fail and return all messed up and bloodied, and yet somehow he is hailed back as a hero while you are deemed abominable over something you had no control over. That's hardly fair to you, don't you think? And how can we ever trust someone who clearly doesn't trust us?"
Reagan allowed himself to grin now that she was no longer looking at him; knowing he was successfully breaking her trust in this system and Red Leader himself. Soon, she would crack and tell him everything he needs to know.
It won't be long now.
(Meanwhile…)
A strong gust of wind swept through the mountainous terrain, chilling Tom to his core with its bitter cold sting and he shivered. Tom was used to the cold by now. It's a small price to pay for being alive. Besides; no blizzard could ever top the cold emptiness constantly inside of him, tearing him apart after all these years.
The weather had warmed slightly, though the grass still held a slight sheen of ice over it, and the higher Tom climbed the more ice and snow he found.
Sitting down on a boulder, overlooking the moor where one lone tree stands tall, he picked up a dandelion and brought it closer to his face with a pensive sigh. He'd been out and about on his own since this morning; exploring the mountain terrain and enjoying his freedom while also taking the time to think things over without the pressure of Tord's presence looming over his shoulder.
Tord… just the mere thought of him was enough to send Tom's heart a flutter and his face flush red. Their talks. The training sessions. The little touches between them. The night spent together. The kiss… He'd never felt anything quite like this swelling in his chest before, and that made him incredibly nervous.
He's giving me the chance to leave him. Surely if this was all an act he wouldn't have made that offer? Tom thought worriedly. While he knows that his own feelings for Tord are true, his doubts and concerns keep him from fully trusting Tord. He is terrified to be duped and hurt again. He saved my life… he comforted me last night… he was vulnerable to me. Tord wouldn't go this far just to manipulate me into following his schemes, would he?
Tom's head is currently overflowing with doubts on what he is meant to do now.
He loves Tord, and he enjoys Paul and Pat's friendship. But staying and becoming a true Red Army soldier would mean doing terrible things, even if the people around him don't think of it as such. And he also runs the risk of witnessing his biggest fear come true. He fulfils his purpose and Tord gets rid of him. His thoughts whirled. If the Red Army rises tomorrow and unleashes their attack upon the world, could he really fight alongside Tord and his soldiers?
Leaving the Red Army would give him the freedom he so desperately craves and dreads at the same time. He would be out on his own with no clear direction on where to go or what to do with his life. What if he tries his luck and fails? What would he do then? What if he never finds anyone to like him ever again and he ends up all alone forever? Or worse still; what if his control over his monster half slips without Tord nearby to help him and he goes on killing sprees again?
Did he actually have the right to be anywhere, after everything he'd done?
Once more, Tom contemplated the option of going back to his friends. The idea was becoming more and more appealing to his eyes. His heart ached at the thought of seeing Edd and Matt again, and assure them he's okay. And yet, whenever it seems as though he made up his mind about it he would think of all the changes that must have happened in his absence and how much his return would shock everyone. Did he even deserve seeing them again after all the pain he put them through? Do they deserve to go over their already mended wounds again with his return? He could never go back there. They are better off without him anyway.
I just want to know that they're okay. He thought, feeling a flash of guilt.
Tom felt crushed with hopelessness. What is he supposed to do now? What is the right thing to do? What the hell does he even want?
I just want to be happy. He concluded, blowing at the dandelion in his hands and watching the tiny white specks float away in the wind. I want the security to know that I belong somewhere. I want a chance to prove I'm not just a burden. I don't want to be alone. And I don't want to hurt anyone.
And on top of all those thoughts, all he wanted was to be with Tord. Near him, around him, breathing the same air and watching the same skies. That wasn't asking too much. But how can Tom stand by and watch him wage war upon the world? No matter what, Tom can't stop Tord's plans now. With or without him, there will be a war in the near future.
If this was even an option, Tom's ideal choice would be to leave the Red Army with Tord and start a new life together somewhere else. But Tord will never give up his ambition. Not even for him. Conquering the world is his dream, and it would be selfish of Tom's part to deprive him of his goals; especially when Tord devoted so much of his life towards achieving it.
Tom was at a loss over what to do now.
"Fool. ~" The voice snickered condescendingly. "Monsters don't have homes. ~"
With a tiny sigh, Tom peered up at the sky. Sunset was drawing near, and he knew he should be making his way back to the campsite where Tord was waiting for him. However, the feeling of uncertainty gnawing away at him kept him from budging. He doesn't want to return to Tord without having made up his mind about the future. He will be expecting an answer out of him tomorrow, and he's not ready to make that choice yet!
His empty void-like eyes slowly drifted down from the pale, crystal blue sky and landed on the lone tree standing at the bottom of the slope. The tree was frozen, leafless branches spreading outward toward the sky and covered in a thin outline of ice all over. Other than that there was nothing special about it.
As Tom continued observing the tree, still mulling over his decision, the clouds drifted apart and the sun came out from behind them. Warm golden-orange rays of light dazzled the highest branches of the tree. The effect caused by the sunset lighting striking the thin coating of snow surrounding the branches made it seem as though the tips of the tree were set ablaze in warm hues, while the branches were still standing tall and almost melding into the sky itself. A perfect blend of fire and ice.
Blinking, Tom studied the tree closely. He'd never seen anything like this before. He watched plenty of sunsets in his lifetime, and he encountered many dumb frozen trees in the winter; but somehow his mind never conceived the idea of a combination of the two being anywhere near as beautiful as the sight before him. Something about the way only the tips of the tree's branches were bathed in orange hues sparked as otherworldly and Tom could hardly take his eyes away.
That's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen... Tom continued to watch, afraid that looking away would ruin the composition of colours and elements, and he didn't want to waste the rare sight for not even an instant.
At once, all his past struggles and misgivings – all the pain he silently endured on his own; always thinking of himself as someone unworthy of being alive, all came flooding back to him. Tom felt a pang of hurt at the memories, but more than that, he felt light.
A wonderful sense of peace settled over him. His past no longer matters. He's alive now. He survived, and he got to see this wonderful phenomenon here today. Had he fulfilled his promise all those months ago, like the voice intended him to, he wouldn't be here to experience this now.
Tom's eyes began to glisten the longer he stared, feeling as if a bright light had shone straight into his mind. All the doubts that have been previously weighing him down seem to fade away into clarity. He knows what to do with his life now.
"Tom!"
It was Tord's voice.
Above the howling wind, Tom could hear him clear as day with his enhanced hearing. Tom wiped away the tears from his eyes and hared away in the direction of Tord's voice. His legs were a little numb from sitting on the cold stones, but when he sprang up to his feet, he was bursting with newfound boundless energy.
He briefly contemplated shifting to reach Tord faster, but then remembered he didn't have an extra pair of pants lying around and so he picked up his pace.
His heart light as a feather, he bounded down the earthy trail and retraced his steps back to camp, careful with the loose stones along the way, and raced down the hill to find Tord. The long journey between the frozen tree and the camp seemed to skim by in a few heartbeats, and Tom stumbled across the Norwegian man before long.
Tom spotted him sitting on a patch of grass near the campfire, fiddling with a bunch of flowers in his lap. He looked so lonely, hunched over and all by himself. Tom's heart flipped over inside his chest. Neither of them will have to be alone ever again now.
"Tord!"
The Norsk snapped his head up. Tom sprang forward and flew at him, tackling Tord to the ground by surprise and enveloping him in a crushing hug as they fell back against the grass with Tom on top of him.
"Tom? This is… a nice surprise, I must say." Tord squeaked in alarm, gradually relaxing in Tom's hold. "What's up?"
Feeling bold, Tom leaned forward to capture his lips in a quick kiss; taking the Norwegian by surprise yet again. "I've been giving a lot of thought to your offer from earlier." He explained breathlessly. "I wasn't sure then but… I am sure now. I've made up my mind and… I want to stay with you, Tord."
Tord's eye widened. "Are you sure? There's no rush to give me an answer yet, Tom. I don't mind waiting until tomorrow-"
"I am sure of this, Tord." Tom cut him off, leaning down to rest his forehead against Tord's. He closed his eyes. "You make me feel comfortable to be myself. I've never felt stronger than when you are with me. I've been… anxious about the future and my role in all of this, but with you I feel as though I could face it head on. You… Paul and Patrick… you guys are like home to me now. I can't ask for more than that."
Tom wanted to be by Tord's side more than anything; and if it means joining the Red Army to make that happen, then it's worth it. His recent revelation gave him the courage to shove aside all his doubts about Tord and his goals, and place his full trust on him. Tom may be nervous about the upcoming war, sure, but with the promise of Tord by his side through it all Tom was willing to go through with it. Besides, it's just like Tord said! They weren't in this for the killing – but to make a change on the world; and unfortunately change can sometimes be a painful process. Tom knows that more than anyone else. And it's not like Tom has a clear goal of his own yet or anything better to do with his life. So why not accompany Tord, make sure he stays safe and support him in his dreams until then?
Tom will stay, and fight beside Tord. He will protect him and their friends. And once the war is over, we can go back and see Edd and Matt together… Tom thought, recalling the wonderful feeling he felt upon seeing the frozen tree. I will go back to them one day… I will see them again, and I am going to tell them the truth. I will tell them everything.
An incredible wave of gratitude washed over Tom. He would not have survived that dark time if it weren't for Tord. He gave him another destiny, and Tom knew that no matter what he becomes, he would be all right. As long as Tord loved him, he was no longer a monster, but Tom.
"You're so cold." Tord's voice broke him out of his thoughts, followed by a gentle hand squeezing his own. Tom didn't even realize he was shivering against him.
Tom climbed off of him and they stood up together, still holding on to each other. "Nah, it's fine. I can handle it-" Tom's protest died on his tongue as something warm draped over and around him. He was startled to realize that Tord had removed the cobalt blue coat of his uniform and lend it to him for warmth.
More surprising than that was the fact that Tord was still wearing his old iconic red hoodie underneath this entire time, and Tom hadn't noticed until now.
It's little acts like that that give Tom the reassurance he needs to know that Tord isn't faking any of this just to manipulate him and earn his loyalty like he fears so much.
"What about you though?" Tom couldn't help but ask.
Tord shrugged dismissively. "Don't worry about me. I am a descendant of the Vikings! Cold resistance and pillaging are in my blood. I will be fine." He smirked.
He paused suddenly; looking closely at Tom's face and taking notice of the tears brimming in his dark eyes.
"Is something wrong?" He prompted.
Tom shook his head and looked away from him for a moment, rubbing his eyes. "Nothing. I just-" he turned back to Tord with a smile. "I know I made the right choice now."
