The dull tones of Tom's bass guitar were barely audible but still there, phasing through the wall in soft waves of calming sound.

It was late now, the moon hung high in the sky, its soft silver rays shining upon two figures that were most definitely not asleep. Edward had woken up only hours before and now that his exhaustion had abated somewhat he was far too conscious of the fact that he was sharing a room with a man who would deliver him to Red Leader without hesitation.

Matthew, well, he was nocturnal by nature, if still rather tired. He'd catch some sleep in a few hours maybe, once Edward stopped looking like he'd stab him and flee any moment now.

"You're pretty tense, Edd. I thought you didn't give any fucks."

Edward huffed a bitter laugh, "I said that while standing in front a mattress after about three days straight of no sleep."

"Ah yes, you must be so busy as the oh so great rebel leader."

"Spare me. Take your condescension to someone who cares."

Matthew was silent for a moment, eyeing the other man from his spot beside the window.

"You used to care." it slipped out before he could stop it and he immediately regretted it.

Edward's scowl deepened, refusing to look at the redhead. "Yeah, well, so did you. Shit happens."

Ugh, how had he agreed to sharing a room with Matthew of all people. The last time they'd slept in the same bed...

Matthew sighed, turning his gaze back to the window, "I guess you're right."

Edward's heartbeat thundered in his ears and he hated it, he hated it hated it hated what this man did to him, all his calm apathy gone in favor of deep seated fear and old memories resurfacing. The silence between them was oppressive and Edward breathed as shallowly as he could to try and preserve it.

How the fuck were they going to manage actual sleep when just being in the same room alone was this difficult.

For all his nocturnal nature, Matthew could already feel sleep weigh down on his eyelids. It had been a long, eventful day and he had gone rather long without sleep. Not as long as Mr. Sleep Deprivation over here of course, but more than enough to muddle his mind and weigh on his limbs.

Perhaps it was the delirious call of oblivion that made him say this.

"Sometimes I miss us."

There was a long, drawn out silence from the other side of the room. And then a shuddering intake of breath.

"There is no 'us', Matt."

He smiled a bit, his eyes almost closed, cybernetic red glow already shining through one lid.

"I know. Not since then." he mumbled.

"Since you betrayed us, you mean." Betrayed me.

"Since I-" he giggled, and with his last conscious breath before he slumped in on himself, he asked, "Who betrayed whom, Edd?"

Edward was left staring at the hunched figure below the window, wary and confused. What the hell did he mean by that?

He sighed, heavy and long, dropping his head between his knees. Why was his life always so complicated? Couldn't anything ever just be clear-cut? And why the fuck did he have to be stuck in the past with two men who had betrayed him, torn his heart apart and taken side against him?

….well okay, he could blame that one on himself. Suicide by paradox was not one of his brightest ideas. Especially with a machine made for Red himself. Of course they'd be able to track him down.

He peeked out into the room, seeing Matthew's silhouette barely illuminated by the moonlight. From this angle his jaw and right side were hidden from view, and he could almost pretend to be seven years younger, hopeful and fierce, and only missing one best friend.

He tried to glare, to ignore the tug at his heart, to clench his fists in anger. But faced with such a peaceful expression, he could only groan pitifully run a hand down his face.

"They hate you, Edd. Why can't you just hate them back?"

When his hand reached his chin, he winced, instinctively lowering it to his abdomen. There were some mean bruises blooming all over him, luckily hidden by his coat and just a bit by his scraggly beard. It wasn't too bad even now that exhaustion wasn't numbing his whole body, but they were definitely uncomfortable. A bunch of stinging little reminders of just how low he'd come, little gifts from his former friends.

He looked back at Matthew and released an explosive sigh, standing up and ignoring all the aches that plagued his body.

"Why do I do this to myself?" he muttered as he approached the still figure, kneeling beside it and lifting it into his arms. Matthew had always been pretty heavy for him, but that was due to his height more than anything.

Edward lowered the man onto one side of the mattress and then sat down on the other, burying his face in his hands. His shoulders shook as he struggled to suppress years of pent up emotion.

"Goddammit." he sobbed quietly, but the moonlight saw no tears.

Out in the living room, the same moon illuminated a visor, display lit up in constant motion. Behind it, Thomas frowned in consternation, bordering on frustration.

He'd looked for hours upon hours, but he couldn't find a single trace of the Red Army. Not the slightest hint that it even existed at this point in time. Nothing in Norway or Poland or Russia, and definitely nothing in England. No matter where he looked, what kind of database he broke into, he couldn't find anything. Hell, he couldn't even find the man himself!

He must have been laying low for the moment, gathering his forces in the shadows. It was commendable really, but at the moment it was mostly a source of anger and concern. If he couldn't even find his army, find Red Leader, then the possibility of them getting back to their own timeline any time soon shrunk considerably.

He'd looked at the data, for both machines even. But try as he might he couldn't make heads or tails of the mechanics, let alone the actual theory behind them. He was a commander and a sharpshooter, not an engineer and definitely not a physicist.

It made him want to tear his hair out. He was going nowhere fast and quickly running out of options. How was he supposed to get back to Tord like this?

Tord... he'd probably realized they'd been gone for too long by now. Or maybe not. Maybe they'd get their hands on a time machine in a few years and show back up right at the appointed time, years older than they were supposed to be.

God, he hated time travel.

He could not possibly understand Tord's fascination with it. It just made everything overly and unnecessarily complicated.

Thomas rubbed at the skin below his visor, unwilling to take it off just to rub his eyes. The sensation that came with interruption or reigniting the connection to his optical nerves was uncomfortable at best, and deeply unsettling at worst.

A yawn forced its way past his lips, even as he tried to clamp down on it. He couldn't sleep now, he had work to do, a leader to find, a machine to acquire. Time was a luxury he did not have, not anymore at least.

He stood up and ambled to the kitchen, intent on making himself a pot of coffee. He'd never particularly liked the brew, but it did wonders to extend his office hours to near inhuman levels. The concept seemed to unsettle some. A few hours before the fiasco that was Edward's infiltration and subsequent robbery, Patryck had been scolding him again for pulling another all-nighter.

He liked Patryck well enough, but the man could be a gigantic nag at the best of times, even to his superiors. Tord had a neverending well of tales on that particular subject and he never hesitated to tell them far and wide to get the man off his back. Not that it ever worked.

Watching the coffee drip into the pot was almost hypnotizing and his display nearly shut off in response to his near-entrance in the realm of dreams. God, he needed that coffee bad.

A mug was ready in his hand by the time the machine finished off and he could finally take in some precious caffeine.

He turned to head back into the living room, mug in hand and-

"Holy Abercrombie sweater on an egg sandwich!" he jumped, nearly dropping he mug in his hand, at the sight of Matt, inches away from his face.

Matt seemed slightly startled as well, before his lips broke into a rueful grin which quickly devolved into breathless laughter. Tomas' shock quickly morphed into a miffed expression.

"What."

Matt waved a hand in a vague gesture, visibly trying to regain his composure, "I- I'm sorry, I just didn't expect you to do that- that thing still." he said in-between leftover giggles.

Thomas frowned, "What thing?"

"Oh you know, that unnecessarily complicated swearing thing." Matt answered, mirth still dancing in his eyes.

Thomas took a moment to look back on the last minute or so, and proceeded to flush slightly.

"Ah, that... doesn't really happen often, anymore."

Matt's gaze almost softened, a sad glint in his eyes, "Well, I'm kind of glad it still does. It's entertaining at least. What are you doing up, anyway? It's pretty late."

Thomas raised an eyebrow, "I could ask you the same thing."

"I slept pretty well during the day and I'm naturally nocturnal." Matt replied without hesitation, looking expectantly back at him.

"Ah, right, that. I was just working."

Matt frowned. "Weren't you working when I woke up too? Did you even sleep at all..." he glanced at his watch, "...yesterday?"

"I sneaked in a few hours, you don't have to worry." the lie slipped easily up his throat and past his lips. It was almost like he was talking to Matthew, the conversation copied nearly verbatim from his memories.

Matt shot him a familiar dubious look but didn't argue further.

"Well, I'm going to get a glass of water and go back to my room. Have a good, uh, rest of the night, Thomas."

Thomas looked at the achingly young man, smiling at him so warmly even after the events of the day, and felt something in him relax the slightest bit at the familiarity.

"Good night, Matt."

AN:

aaaaangst for my future sleep deprived children. well at least one of them, the others just frustrated. i feel like ive been shving matt into the foreground a lot, tom is sliding into the background in his stead, should probably correct that