"So do you live in the living room now or...?" Tom blurted out without thinking. In his defense, he was relatively drunk by now and this was the third time he'd walked into the living room to see Edward lounging there at weird hours.

Edward sighed, spread out over the couch with a cola can in hand and one leg hanging off to rest lightly on the floor.

"Thomas locked himself in the room so yeah, pretty much."

Tom nodded and took a swig from his ever-present flask, shoving Edward's legs off the end of the couch so he could sit down.

"Shouldn't you be asleep or something?" he asked, staring ahead at the TV. It was off, as was relatively usual in their house at four in the morning.

Edward snorted and lifted his legs to lay them on Tom's lap instead, which he accepted with only a minor grunt of complaint. "Sleep is for the weak." he declared, taking a swig of his own can.

The corner of Tom's mouth turned upwards as he lifted his flask in Edward's direction."I'll drink to that." and he did.

Edward rolled his eyes, "You'd drink to a ten-year-old doing a handstand."

"Don't dis kid gymnasts, they're 'impressive for their age'." Tom said, the last part in a mocking posh accent, before breaking into a short bout of giggles.

"You know, I don't think a handstand really counts as gymnastics."

"I count getting out of bed as gymnastics."

"Yeah, okay, true."

There was something nagging at Edward about his current sleeping arrangements though...

Ah.

"Actually, where's Matthew been sleeping?"

Tom hummed in thought, "I... think he's been staying in Matt's room?"

"Huh." Edward blinked, not really having seen that coming. "Well, easier to avoid someone if you're not sleeping in the same room, so cheers to me." he lifted up his can with the barest amount of enthusiasm.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Are you guys still dealing with that fight from the other day?"

Edward huffed out a bitter laugh, "Bold of you to assume I'm dealing with it."

Tom nodded sagely, "Ah yes, the age old cure-all solution of avoiding the problem until it goes away."

"Yup."

"Except the problem lives in the same house as you now." Tom pointed out.

Edward glowered at him before lunging for the flask in his hands. "Gimme that!" Tom released an indignant squawk as the other man poured some of whatever was in there into his can before tossing it back. Tom barely managed to catch it right side up.

"Hey!"

"Four a.m. or not, I'm not having this conversation stone cold sober, you can forget about it."

Tom narrowed his eyes in accusation. "Since when do you drink?"

After a big gulp Edward deigned to answer, "Since you disappeared."

Tom blinked, baffled. "What?"

Edward seemed to process what he'd just said and groaned, "Ugh sorry, wrong Tom. I'm unloading, I'll stop now."

"No no nononono, you can't just say something like that and not explain." Tom demanded, "I... Thomas disappeared?"

Edward was silent. Seconds ticked by with no answer forthcoming. Tom had just about given up on receiving one when Edward finally spoke up, voice weak.

"...his vision was growing weaker by the day. Just two weeks after he first told us and he was already practically half blind. I told him he'd be off the field and of course the stubborn ass didn't listen. He sneaked into one of the cars bound for an attack on a smaller Red Army base they'd been cobbling together in the south coast. The plan failed, the unit came back with half their members and a report of one soldier that had seen Tom get off the truck and run right into the fight. There was no trace of him..."regret was written on his face in bold letters, "A year later, he showed up in the enemy lines, gun pointed right at my fucking forehead and saying something or other about capturing me for his leader. I don't think I was listening, I just saw a ghost from the past that wanted me dead."

His voice had grown hoarse by the end of it and he gulped down a bit more of his improvised mix. Tom was silent, not really knowing what to say to that.

Edward laughed wetly, voice tremulous, "Looking back, I'm pretty damn good at leaving my friends for dead, huh? And Tord was always there to fix them up and turn them into good little soldiers. Hell, maybe he's the better friend for it..."

"Don't!"

Edward startled at the shout, looking up at Tom's livid face.

"Don't say that. You..." Tom seemed to hesitate, "You obviously made some- a lot of mistakes. But so did Matthew, and so did Thomas. And you might not be the best friend anyone could have, but I highly doubt you'll ever be as bad as the commie bastard."

Edward stare numbly at him, muttering distantly, "You don't know what you're talking about..."

Tom had obviously heard him, judging by his troubled frown, "Maybe not. I wasn't there, and I don't think I ever want to be. But I know enough, Edward. You're just a mostly good person that the world has absolutely shat on. I think all three of you might be..." the last part was muttered, barely audible, but Edward just managed to catch it.

He kept staring, searching Tom's face for any sign of falseness. Tom started fidgeting under his heavy gaze, he could almost physically feel it. Finally, Edward looked away, up at the ceiling.

"Thanks."

Tom snorted, "It's just early enough in the morning that I can say shit like that. Don't go expecting anything like this again."

Edward gave a small wry smile, "Look at me, an old man unloading all his baggage onto his unsuspecting housemate fifteen years in the past."

"You're not that old." Tom rolled his eyes.

"Fifteen. Years." Edward reiterated, "Do you know how weird it is to see you all so energetic? It makes me tired just looking at you."

"Isn't that your default mode?"

"Doesn't mean it can't level up."

"Are you going to talk to Matthew?"

"I- what?" Edward almost gave himself whiplash turning his head to stare incredulously at Tom. "Where the hell did that come from?!"

Tom shrugged, "We talked about it before, a bit."

"You don't just spring that shit on people, Tom!"

"So are you?"

Edward groaned and ran a hand down his face, "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope. We're all pretty tired of your drama." Tom remarked nonchalantly.

Edward glared weakly, "Sorry to break it to you, but being on two different sides of a war does involve a bit of... drama." displeasure dripped off the word like tar.

"Well then, drama king." Tom said as he shoved Edward's legs off his lap, earning him an outraged exclamation, "Talk to drama queen or I cut off your cola supply."

Edward gasped scandalized and narrowed his eyes, "You wouldn't dare."

Tom gave him a remarkably unimpressed look. "Try me."

"Edd would kill you."

"It's for a good cause, he'd understand."

"No he wouldn't."

"No he wouldn't." Tom admitted, "But I can deal with Edd. Your soap opera bullshit though? It needs to go."

Edward let his head fall back on the armrest, one arm over his face as he groaned in absolute misery. "You're evil incarnate."

"I've been called worse." Tom said with a smile as he stood up. "So will you talk to him or do I need to resort to drastic measures?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you tyrant. I'll talk to him... eventually."

Tom snorted, "I hope for your own sanity that that's the 'soon' kind of eventually." He turned to walk back to his room, but halted in his steps when Edward called to him one more time.

"Hey Tom."

"Hm?"

"If I'm the drama king and Matthew's the queen, what does that make Thomas?"

Tom grinned and resumed walking out of the room, calling behind him, "The drama emperor."

AN:

a bit short, today. this was honestly supposed to be edward and thomas but then tom showed up at the very beginning and thomas didnt get a chance to shine in all his imperial glory. next up: less edward.

(i postrate myself before you, reader, and beg. this fic lives and dies for your comments)