It was supposed to be an ordinary morning like any other.
Tom woke up early, showered, and joined Tord and the others for breakfast. This should be a casual and friendly mood for him. He's done it so many times. And on the surface it was.
But internally… Tom was tense.
Ever since the welcoming ceremony and Ella's shocking and tragic demise, Tom hasn't been the same. It was a struggle to keep eating and acting naturally as though the weight of his guilt and grief weren't wearing him down.
Tord even invited him to attend Ella's funeral, but Tom couldn't bring himself to. He has no business being there after what he'd done to her.
But it was more than that.
Since that dreadful event Tom has been plagued with... unsettling thoughts.
His eyes darted around the room to look at each one of the men surrounding him, his hand tapping his knee anxiously.
Ella had accused Tord, and by extension the entire Red Army, of being a manipulative organization that uses people to abide with their schemes. A fear of Tom's ever since he first arrived in this place. And since her confirmation Tom couldn't help but suspect the worst of his new friends.
From his seat, Tom observed Paul prepare his coffee. Is he really a loveable goofball, or is this just a pretence? Could he be more sinister than he lets on? Is he a better actor than I gave him credit for? He did fool me back in the pub to lower my guard - how is this any different?
Tom switched his gaze to Patrick, who sat across from him sipping a steaming cup of tea. What about him? Is he fooling me too, or is he just as much a victim as I am? Did Paul fool him into joining this place? Was he brainwashed to think this whole scheme is right? Can I confide in him? Would he even CARE that he's been brainwashed by this point? Does Paul really love him or was that an act too? What if Pat is totally okay with this and doesn't mind one bit coning others into joining? What if he's been telling everything I confided in him to the others and they are all secretly laughing behind my back?
Right at that moment, Tord walked in from the living room. Tom's gaze fell on him, his heart pounding. Is he the mastermind behind it all? The thought hurt too much to bear.
These past few days Tord had let him be for most of the time, knowing Tom will recover at his own pace. He would go out to fulfil his duties for the day and leave Tom in their bedroom, giving him some time off, and at the end of the day he would return, try and coerce him to eat something and they would cuddle in bed. It was all very sweet of him, but… it wouldn't be too hard for him to fake.
The idea that everything Tom thought he built for himself here was nothing but a farce was killing him.
"Paul." Tord drew closer, narrowing his one eye.
The Commander was about to take a sip of coffee when his leader walked in. "Sir." He paused.
Tord stopped before him, staring intently at his mug, his face expressionless. "Is that a freshly made cup of coffee I see?"
"Maybe?" Not breaking eye contact with his leader, Paul proceeded to take a long, drawn out sip of his coffee.
Tom and Patrick watched them with bated breath.
Tord sighed. "You remember what I told you would happen if I caught you drinking my coffee before me?"
"Memory is a little foggy." Paul replied smugly. "But probably something about raining down h#llfire."
"That's right." Tord nodded.
Paul shrugged. "Well, and here I am without an umbrella."
Tord stared him dead in the eye. "I feel a storm coming."
Patrick sighed and rolled his eyes. Tom choked down his laughter. "No need to fight you guys! I already made your damn coffee, Commie." He held out the mug.
Breaking the conflict, Tord finally tore his gaze away from his Commander to look at him. He smiled at Tom as he approached. Tom's heart sank in his chest. That smile should be heart-warming, but now with all the conflicting thoughts running rampant in his head, all he could feel is dread.
"Thank you, Tom." Tord gently took the mug from him before settling down beside him. "That was very kind of you."
The four of them settled down to eat. Tom joined them with great effort on his part. Everything in him wanted to get away from them, be alone in his room, stay in bed, and cry.
"Burdens don't get to eat. Much less murderous ones. ~" A saying the voice often told him to demotivate him from eating, which always worked.
But he knew the others would get suspicious or start questioning him if he doesn't eat, and that's the last thing he needs right now. Tom forced himself to eat his breakfast, but it tasted like dust in his mouth and he tried not to gag. Guilt still gnawing away at him. He occasionally joined in on the conversation but for the most part he kept to himself.
He's keeping secrets all over again.
Breakfast couldn't have ended any sooner. He held in a sigh of relief when they were finally done and off to do their duties. Tord and Paul raced for the shortcut lift, wrestling each other to get in before the other. Tom waited his turn patiently next to Patrick.
"How are you holding up, Tom?"
The question startled Tom, and he looked up at Pat indifferently. He had to be extra cautious around Pat, who could read him like a book.
He shrugged. "I'm fine. Just… anxious to start the day." He told him lamely.
"Anything special scheduled for today?" Patrick pressed on, eyes searching his.
"I heard this week's assignment for the Shades Cup is a fun one." Tom stated. "I want to participate with the others this time."
"Really? That's nice!" Pat tapped him on the shoulder affectionately. "Hope you have fun."
In the end, Tord and Paul had actually forcefully pressed themselves together in the lift; both too stubborn to back down. Patrick went next. By the time it was Tom's turn he was compelled to not go at all and stay where he is. Make up some sort of excuse and avoid all Red Army related things altogether.
But that would be suspicious.
Tom entered the lift and stepped out into Tord's office moments later. Not to his surprise Tord was still there, looking in the mirror and rearranging his appearance.
"Are you sure you feel up to this?" Tord asked, looking at him through the mirror. "None of us will judge you if you want a few more days to recover. Ella's death… hit you pretty hard."
God, it's like he can tell how much I don't want this. Tom inwardly snorted as he shook his head. "I'll be fine. Gotta come out of hiding sooner or later, am I right?"
Tord turned around. "Patrick and I haven't included you in any training drills or patrols yet." He admitted. "We figured you would like a day or two to settle in the base and know your way around before then."
"That's fine."
Mismatched hands gently cupped his face, lifting his head so that their eyes would meet. Tom took the chance to study Tord's face closely; looking for any hints that might giveaway to a more sinister ulterior motive. A smug flash of triumph in his eye. A bare hint of a smirk on his lips. Anything.
However, when couldn't find what he was looking for, a storm of regret and worry churned through Tom, making him question whether Tord was being truly genuine or if he was just that good an actor.
He was startled out of his thoughts by Tord leaning closer to him for a kiss. At the very last moment, however, Tom turned his head away and Tord placed a kiss on his cheek instead. With so many doubts in his head… he couldn't bring himself to display affection with a clear consciousness.
"Is something wrong?" Tord blinked.
"It's nothing." Tom pulled away. "I just-" He cleared his throat. "C'mon! We better get a move on."
Without waiting for another word Tom hurried out of the office.
Out in the hallways Tom followed the other soldiers toward the Great Hall to attend the daily morning gathering. He sat near the front, surrounded by a sea of blue and red, standing out with his black and blue uniform. He hardly paid attention to the gathering as Tord and the Generals gave their report for the day.
His thoughts were… drifting...
Home…
Everyone knows where their home is, don't they? Or at least where they're meant to be. Everyone… except me. Tom thought gloomily. The Red Army is supposed to be his home now. But if someone were to hold him at gunpoint and demand him to tell where he belongs, Tom wasn't sure he would give an honest answer.
Gunpoint… Ella...
Tom winced at the memory and felt an unbearable pang in his heart.
Despite Tord's best efforts to comfort him these last few days, there was nothing he could say that would convince anyone, least of all Tom, that he wasn't responsible for Ella's death. Paul and Pat tried to help too, but it was hopeless.
It was my fault. Tom thought in anguish. It absolutely was.
By the time the gathering was done Tom was back in the immense complex hallways, walking around with no real destination or clear idea on what to do.
"You poor, lost, miserable little worm. Wandering aimlessly with no clue on what to do. You could trust your two-faced lying boyfriend and face the inevitable betrayal in the end. You might come clean to him now and see him for what he truly is. Or you might blindly continue along your chosen path for now, send a kindred spirit to his death, or help out a killer. ~"
Tord? Tom thought. An image of the Norwegian man holding the world in the palm of his robotic hand came to mind. He will have the power to nurture and care for the world… or destroy it, if that is his true intention.
And what will become of me then? What can I possibly do about this?
He'd sworn the oath. Like it or not, Tom is a Red Army soldier. But how? How can he be the loyal soldier the army expects him to be when he has so many misgivings? Tom knew he should be settling into it. Relaxing. Enjoying the peace while he still can before the war starts and tears the whole world apart.
"Clean the corridors. Clean the rooms. Clean the toilets. All I seem to do in this damn place is clean, clean, and clean." One soldier grumbled close by, sweeping the hallway.
"Cleaning duty is the worst." A girl agreed with him. "Don't you think so, Tom?"
Tom turned away from them with an indifferent shrug, the soldiers staring after him perplexed.
He can't settle in. No matter how hard he tries, he just can't shake off his worries. Ella's last words keep coming back to him, only strengthening the concerns he tried so hard to push aside to be with Tord. And at what cost, really?
"Hey, Tom!" A girl stopped by beside him. "Lunch will start soon enough. I am meeting up with the others in the Mess Hall. Would you like me to save you a seat?"
Turning to her numbly, Tom assessed his surroundings. All these soldiers. Living with one another. Relying on each other. All brought together under the same goal. Trusting one another… even with their lives. What it must be like to trust others so blindly you don't even conceive the thought that you're being used? To be so confident in your own actions and decisions? To have such faith that you are where you are meant to be?
"No, thanks."
The girl stared after him with disappointment as he stalked away. "Oh… okay then..."
If it's not because he doesn't trust them, it's because he fears he will ruin them too. All these people with so much left to live... he can't bring himself to ruin their lives either.
Without realizing Tom ended up in the training gym. The room was nearly empty as the few soldiers present were already leaving, presumably toward the Mess Hall for lunch. Since he's here he might as well get some training done by himself. Still, he was too gloomy to really concentrate on much else.
What am I supposed to do now?
"My my! What's with the long face, huh?"
The new voice startled Tom. He thought everyone had already left. Evidently not.
Tom looked up toward the newcomer. A man was sprawled on one of the benches, cast in shadows, head leaning on one hand.
"Who are you?" Tom narrowed his eyes.
Jumping to his feet the stranger approached, stepping into the light, staring at Tom with intense green eyes. Tom had never seen such vibrant eyes before.
"I'm Foley." The man introduced with a wide grin on his face. "Reagan Fitz Foley. So glad to make your acquaintance, newbie."
That look he gave him was unsettling. He carried a vague scent of iron and mint that seemed somewhat familiar, but he could not quite identify. Tom stepped back, scrutinizing him closely. "I'm Tom."
"Oh I know! I heard an awful lot about you!" Reagan stated, tapping his hands together in excitement. "You've been quite the topic of discussion around the base as of late, in case you weren't aware."
"Because I am… new?" Tom guessed.
"Well, yes, but not only that but… that little incident in the Archives a few days back has been all the rage recently." Reagan went on nonchalantly. "It must have been quite scary for you, to be held hostage by a mentally unstable girl and nearly get killed. I promise that's not the type of welcome we usually greet new soldiers with."
He laughed, but Tom didn't find the joke funny at all. This is the first time someone brought up the incident with Ella, and while part of him dreads it the other half of him was interested to hear what others have to say about it.
Tom looked away. "You probably think I had something to do with it, don't you?"
"What? Not at all! What fault could you possibly have in all of this?"
His words surprised Tom greatly, and he reared back wide eyed.
"Okay so, from what I gathered, she accused you of being a monster who killed all her friends and whatnot. But really, that's just crazy talk." Reagan said. "Don't get me wrong. She's always been a little… emotional. Even before the border patrol massacre she wasn't exactly stable, you know? It's not surprising she would freak out and try to murder one of us eventually. She was just a ticking time bomb waiting to go off, and you unfortunately were the unlucky one who got caught in the blast." He paused, his tone softening. "I hope you realize that none of us blame you for what happened to her."
Though he was trying to be comforting Tom couldn't help but feel the exact opposite. While he was secretly glad no one else blames him, no one would hate him more and as much as he hates himself over what happened.
"Good to know?"
"Of course… it's the Red Leader who is the real culprit behind it all." Reagan continued decisively. "To let in someone so unstable join the army just to strengthen his forces? What was he thinking?"
Tom tensed at the clear accusation in his voice as he talked about Tord. He stared at the man. Something about him seems… unhinged, to say the least. He calls Ella unstable when she was just mad with grief, and he doesn't even seem all put together himself.
"Look, it was nice meeting you and all, but I want to train by myself if you don't mind." Tom stalked away without another glance.
Reagan's smile twitched and nearly fell, but he wouldn't give up so easily. He hurried and ducked in front of Tom, standing on his path. "Now now; aren't you the least bit curious to know what goes on with the Red Leader?" He thrust his face closer, still grinning. "It's all very fascinating, I assure you."
"Yeah? Why don't you tell someone who is actually interested in hearing about it then?" Tom snorted and tried to veer around him, but Reagan blocked his path again.
"Listen, I urge you to hear me out on this. I know lots of things that go on around this base, whether people are aware of it or not. And I found out some pretty interesting things regarding you in particular that I think not even you are aware of."
As he spoke, he gave Tom a friendly nudge. At the touch, a strange sensation shot through Tom, as if claws were gripping him inside, twisting his belly and chilling his spine like the icy winter wind. His breath caught in his throat as he looked up at the blond.
That felt so . . . wrong.
"Whatever rumours you might have heard about me I am not interested in hearing about it, so why don't you just shut it and leave me alone!" Tom flexed his hands and growled, pushing him aside so he could leave the gym. Clearly he wasn't going to get any training done here today.
"Does the name Edd Gold mean anything to you?"
At the mention of that name, Tom stopped mid-step in his tracks and froze. Reagan's grin widened.
"Ahhh. ~ I thought it would."
"How do you-?" Tom turned with a hushed whisper, his eyes round with shock.
"You were friends with him, weren't you? Eddie mentioned you a lot in our time spent together." Reagan carried on with a dip of his head. "Several months ago I was tasked by the Red Leader to keep an eye on him and his friend as a sort of… safekeeping in case things got out of hand with you. Red wanted me to convince Eddie to join us by any means necessary, even if I had to split them apart, you see. I think Red was looking for a way to keep you in line should you prove to be too difficult to break."
His words made Tom's blood turn cold in his veins. A faint tingling sensation on his head, like the shuffling of cards. No. No! He promised me he would stay away from them! Tom Swallowed nervously as he stepped back. But how else would Reagan know about them? "How… how do you know about all this?"
"Like I said; I know lots of things." Reagan gleefully watched as the annoyance on his face dissolved into fearful confusion. And the voice is a very helpful informant indeed. "Red Leader often gloats about you, and how he "has the eyeless freak wrapped around his finger and played for a fool." I logically put two and two together and concluded that he is referring to you."
Tom backed away, shaking his head. There was something unusual about his statement. While Tord may be arrogant and prideful, he also values his secrecy a lot and he went to great lengths to ensure that no word got out regarding Tom's involvement in the army.
"If you and the other soldiers know about me, then how come you're the only one telling me about this?" Tom accused, narrowing his eyes. "Won't Red Leader be pissed at you for telling the punch line to the jester and ruin the joke?"
Reagan shrugged. "Perhaps. But I don't care for consequences if this is the right thing to do. You deserve to know the truth, and this act has been going on for way too long."
Tom turned away, hands clenched into fists. "You don't know what you are talking about. Tor- Red Leader has done a lot for me – for us! And I owe him everything."
"Why are you so quick to defend your little boyfriend? You have been doubting him ever since you got here, and now that you got clear-cut confirmation he is using you, you jump to his defence? ~" The voice growled in his ear. "You should heed his words. This one speaks wisely. ~"
Reagan paused and stepped closer, his smile widening by the second. "Red has tricked you just as much as he has everyone else in this base fooled. He will do whatever it takes to win and get what he thinks rightfully belongs to him – consequences be damned. Do you really think he cares about any of us? He claims he wants to give us a second chance at a better life, but do you seriously believe he will have any of our wellbeing's in mind when the war strikes? He won't. And you… you are just another number to him, just like the rest of us. So hey, if it's any consolation you're not the only jester here." He let his words sink in.
No! Tord loves me. He wouldn't… he couldn't…
"He never said he loved you. He said he had feelings for you, but he could've just as easily been talking about hate, indifference, or disgust. Sex and power are all he cares about from you. ~" The voice taunted. "Think about it, if he really does love you then why didn't he do more to help you? Why did he let that poor girl die and make you take the blame? Why send a soldier after your precious friends? ~"
If he is really using me then why offer me the chance to leave at all? Tom argued in despair.
"It was a test, and you know it. He would've never let you go so easily. He wanted to know just how much you trusted him… and you fell right into his hands.~" The voice slithered. "Had you chosen the wrong answer I am sure you would have gotten some sort of… correction to change your mind. ~"
Tom's face paled and he let out a low whimper, hands gripping his head. It felt as though his mind was about to be split in two. All his doubts… all his fears were finally coming true and he didn't know what to believe. Then a surge of anger flooded over him. If Tord really thinks he can fool me he has another thing coming!
He may have his doubts but perhaps a certain someone might just know all the answers.
Reagan tipped his head, chuckling as he sensed the sudden shift in mood from freaky eyes. He tensed up, knuckles clenched tightly and shaking by his sides.
He's definitely going to release the beast now, no doubt about it.
(Meanwhile…)
In the hangar, Tord was overseeing the maintenance and calibration of their military vehicles such as jets and tanks. Ever since his announcement that their rise was close at hand all the soldiers in the army have been ecstatic at the news, and worked very diligently to make sure everything was in working order for when that fateful day comes. Even General Keaton, the head of communications and transport department, a grouchy man known for his ill temper, seems more at ease and in a better mood than usual as he showcased his work to his leader.
"Who are you and what have you done to Keaton?" Paul had leaned in to whisper in Tord's ear, chortling with amusement. "Seriously, I never thought I would ever see the day Keaton would smile! Is this the coming of the apocalypse?"
"Quiet, you!" Tord playfully punched him in the shoulder in return.
Despite the wonderful mood and light atmosphere the whole base carried, there was one thing at the centre of it all that distracted Tord from his current duties.
Tom.
He was greatly concerned for the eyeless man. Ever since Ella's death he sensed Tom was no longer the same. Tord was at a loss of what to do. He tried everything he could to comfort him, but it was as if his words fell on death ears. His duties to the Red Army come first, but how can he cheer up Tom?
"Are you thinking about Tom again, sir?" Paul asked, taking note of his leader's distant demeanour.
"I can't help it." Tord hissed back under his breath. "I am worried about him! He's been acting weird and staring at me with this weird gaze... oh, Paul, what should I do?"
Paul pursed his lips thoughtfully. "That might be a strange concept to you, but… have you tried just sitting down and talking to him? Just straight up ask him what the matter is?"
"I comforted him already!"
"Not comfort. Talk." Paul corrected. "Sometimes comforting isn't enough. Maybe the only way to get through to him is just addressing the issue. Be upfront about it! No need to pretend things aren't happening because they clearly are, and Tom definitely has thoughts about it. Ask him, sir."
Tord looked at him at a loss of words. How come he never thought about that?
"That's brilliant! Paul, you are a genius!"
Paul grinned knowingly. "Glad to be of help, you dumbass. Just remember: communication and compromise are the keys to make a relationship work!"
"I gotta go see Tom right now. If you don't mind taking over for me here?" Tord glanced at him hopefully.
"Sure thing!"
Tord left the hangar in a hurry, passing by his soldiers with a quick nod in their direction to acknowledge their presence briefly as he walked by. He stopped in his tracks a moment later, realizing he has no knowledge on Tom's current whereabouts. The base is so immense he could very well be anywhere. Tord pulled up his robotic arm to trace his location via their chip connection.
He's in… the enclosure?!
Curiosity pricked Tord. Did he feel the need to turn? I hope he's okay, whatever happened…
Tord didn't waste another second. He took the main elevator and descended to the confidential laboratory levels. Now that the serum experiments are completed and Tom moved in with him in his own chambers, Tord really needed to lift the ban and allow his scientists and engineers back on their proper floor.
After traversing through the long, empty hallways Tord made quick work of arriving in the enclosure. The gates opened up and to his surprise Tom was just standing there, facing the wall, his back turned to him.
"Tom?" He called out as he slowly stepped in.
Tom turned around, staring the Red Leader down. Tord drew back his hands in shock and took a few uneasy steps backwards. Those pitch black empty eyes were filled with such hatred as he glared him down. Tord felt himself shrink beneath the powerful leer that burned into him.
A shadow had crossed over Tom's face and his mouth was locked into a snarl. He looked nothing like the man he loves.
Now, this was a monster.
"T-Tom? What's the matter?" Tord stammered, panic flaring in his eye.
"Is it true?" Tom growled at him. Hurt edged his voice. "Did you really send a soldier to recruit Edd into the Red Army?"
Time stopped. Tord's heart plummeted in his chest and he swallowed thickly. "What?" For a heartbeat, he sounded dazed. "Where did you hear that from?" He briefly wondered if Patrick or Paul had spilled the beans to him without telling him but quickly discarded the idea. They would never do anything behind his back.
"Is it true or not?" Tom pressed, ignoring his question. "Answer me!"
"Of course not! I promised you I would stay away from them." Tord answered, his voice low and steady.
"So Edd and Matt are safe then? No one messed with them? None of your soldiers got in contact with either one of them?"
Tord froze, feeling extremely uneasy and uncomfortable as Tom interrogated him in his ire. He shifted from side to side, lowering his head as he stared at Tom imploringly. "Well, no. It… was a tragic coincidence, I swear. I sent my soldier to recruit more new members to join our cause, it just so happened that they targeted Edd. But I already dealt with the situation. Edd and Matt are fine now, I promise!"
"How long ago was this? Why didn't you tell me?" Tom demanded. "Were you ever going to tell me?"
"I'm sorry, Tom. I wanted to tell you – I truly did, but… things kept happening and there was never a right time to approach this subject with you." Tord's voice was desperate. "I guess in my own way I was just trying to protect you-"
"Did you? Or was it because telling me would mean our deal was off and I wouldn't have to be obedient to you anymore?" Tom flashed, taking a slow pace forward. There was hostility in his voice.
Tord's eye widened as he stared at Tom. His heart felt as heavy as stone. "No! Of course not! You know I'm better than that, Tom."
"Are you?"
Anger flared up in Tord. "What's gotten into you?" He snapped.
"You don't really care about me! That's what's gotten into me, you manipulative bastard!" Tom spat, his voice shaking. A deep shudder passed through his body.
"How can you say that? After everything we've been through?!" Tord retorted, pain shone in his gaze. "Haven't I made it clear to you yet how much you mean to me? I did everything in my power to help you control your powers and be as supportive as I can of you. What more do you want?"
"How about my freedom?" Tom shot back, his voice grown cold. "Or better yet, if you truly do care about me then why didn't you create me an antidote to the serum so I wouldn't have to be a monster anymore?"
His question took Tord off guard. An uncomfortable silence fell between them as Tord's mouth flapped like a gasping fish as he searched for words. In the end he could not formulate a reply, and merely held Tom's gaze without flinching.
"Because you don't actually care about me." Tom finished it for him. "You don't care! All you care about are my powers and what I can achieve for you and your army. God! Why was I so blind to see this before?! You don't even care that I am not comfortable at all with this situation."
"Tom, I- I… I would've given you an antidote if there was one, but finding a way to reverse the effects of the serum might take years to figure out!" Tord found his voice at last.
His words did nothing to appease the eyeless man, who was fuming with barely suppressed fury. Purple wisps were billowing out of his sockets now.
"You let that poor girl take her own life! She accused me of being the monster that killed her friends and she was totally right, but you made her look like a fool in front of everybody! She was in the right and you let her die just to keep your element of surprise a secret." Tom pointed out. "What now, you big idiot? How will you present me as your secret weapon in the future knowing you got someone killed for secrecy? Do you have any idea how bad this looks?"
"My priority then was to protect you, Tom! Was I supposed to let her hurt you and expose you as the culprit behind the border patrol massacre? Your life could've been ruined!"
"No. No! You don't care about me! It's all about your stupid ambitions, and stupid army, and stupid war! I never mattered to you. All this time you were pretending to help me… when really, you were just learning how to better control me." As he ranted, his body started to morph and change. Tord stepped back cautiously, but Tom matched him with every step. "You don't really love me. Of course you don't. There's no motive for you to actually love me. Nothing to be gained from it. I should've known you were going to use me again!"
"It's not true, Tom!" Tord pleaded, charging the repulsor on the palm of his robotic hand folded behind his back. "You need to calm down. You're turning! If you don't recollect yourself you're going to lose all semblance of control – don't listen to the voice! You're stronger than that."
Tord knew that under normal circumstances Tom wouldn't hurt him. But he's so upset with him now, and losing his consciousness fast. Soon there will be nothing left but the monster, and then he might be in real danger.
Tom stood over him now, his words spiralling into rough growls, his gaze dark. Tord raised his robotic arm, aiming the repulsor at the monster.
"Stand back!"
With one powerful swipe of his claw, Tom slashed the Norwegian's prosthetic limb right in the elbow's junction. Tord watched wide eyed in shock as his first and most important line of defence shut down and hung uselessly from his shoulder. Now he can't even call for backup.
"But guess what? I have you all figured out, and I won't be used by you ever again."
With a blood curdling shriek, the monster launched itself at Tord with outstretched claws, barrelling into him. Tord was tackled to the ground and pinned down. He felt the wind knocked out of him in a painful cough right before claws gripped his sides tightly, immobilizing him as they punctured his chest and stabbed his ribcage.
"Tom, w-wait!"
But it was futile. Tom wasn't in control. He had given in to despair and misery, leaving only the true monster behind to handle him. There was no reasoning with this creature now.
I'm gonna die. Tord thought as the creature standing over him growled and slammed him down over and over again, snarling and digging in its claws harder. And there's nothing I can do to save myself.
Sudden black spots danced before his eye and his vision was obscured by glittering darkness as the monster furiously shook him and slammed his head down on the floor repeatedly, claws burying deeper into his abdomen. Tord fought through the agonizing pain to rest his hand on one of its claws, staring up at the dark glare of the creature.
"You're right. I let you down far too many times for you to simply trust anything I tell you now." Tord gasped for air, having a hard time breathing due to the monster's weight pressing down on his chest. "I deserve this. I get it. But if I am going to die now there's something very important I need you to know."
The monster roared in his face, slamming him down again. It lifted one claw, ready to rip him to shreds.
"I… I… I destroyed your Tomee bear back in third grade!"
Alright, so maybe his list of priorities for last words weren't the best but this was a secret he'd kept with him for a long time, and Tord figured this might be a good time as any to confess. And it seemed to have worked to his advantage somewhat because the monster had stopped its assault; staring down at him completely still.
"The plushie your dad gave you. I destroyed it by accident. I was… I was always sort of jealous by how much attention you gave to it." He chuckled bitterly. "Imagine: me, being jealous of a dumb stuffed bear!" He carried on through tight gasps. "I took it from you when you weren't around, I was just playing with it and… I destroyed it. I got so desperate. I knew how much that bear meant to you so I bought a new one and redid some of the stitching." He let out a strangled laugh. "I guess my grandmother's sewing lessons paid off. All these years you never suspected a thing. I am just glad I managed to make you happy, at least every once in a while when you needed most."
The monster crooned deeply leaning down toward him. Tord's consciousness was holding on by a thread, his lack of oxygen fogging his brain. He cupped the monster's face with his one arm in a slight caress.
"I'm really sorry."
Then everything went dark.
His hand fell limp to his chest and he passed out.
His words reached deep into the monster's core, puncturing through the dense wall of rage, confusion, and hurt to reach out for Tom's consciousness that aimlessly floated away in a sea of darkness. As he gradually gained back his senses, a sudden realization began to dawn on him.
What the f#ck am I doing? Tom thought as he slowly gained back control, lowering his claws. Tord, he… he made terrible mistakes in the past, but that's no reason to kill him! Was I really about to-?
In horror, Tom shifted back to fully human as he leaned over Tord to check on him. The Norwegian's breathing was shallow, but he was still alive. Just unconscious. Relief and an extreme sense of guilt washed over him so strongly it threatened to knock him off his feet.
He thought about the last thing Tord had said to him. He cares. He really does care. He always has.
"No, you idiot! ~" The voice bellowed, pulling at his hair. "He lies. That's what he is best known for. He lies. How can you possibly trust him now after everything he's done to you? ~"
You're wrong.
Tom thought about Tord and his actions; both good and bad. Their childhood together. Growing up. His betrayal. Their rivalry. The giant robot incident. The experiments. Comforting him when he needed most. All their time spent together as their feelings for one another grew.
Tord couldn't possibly fake all that.
Even as children, when Tord first betrayed him, he never did it out of malice or as part of a bigger plan. He was literally just a kid who made a dumb mistake.
Tord loved him, and by extension, he loved his friends, too. He was prone to making horrible mistakes, but in the end he still cares about them in his own way. His ambition matters a lot but when push comes to shove, Tord will do whatever it takes to keep the people closest to him safe and happy.
And he nearly killed him for it.
All on the word of a disembodied voice that utterly despises him and Tom should know better by now than to trust it, and-
"Is he dead?"
Tom whipped around.
Stepping out into the open from behind a column, Reagan watched them inquisitively, hands folded behind his back as he approached.
In response, Tom narrowed his eyes and took a protective stance in front of Tord, trying to keep the Norwegian away from the man's line of sight. Reagan paused, a grin stretching on his face. "Well well well, what a shame." He sighed. "I was really hoping you would kill him for me. I would have made your death painless in return."
For whatever reason this man wanted both Tord and him dead. Tom didn't understand why yet, but he was not about to let that happen any time soon.