Tom stood in front of the door with his fist raised to knock and hesitated.

It had been a few hours so things had probably calmed down a bit, right? Well, on Edward's side they seemingly had at least. Or maybe he was just brooding. He'd been stone cold silent since his little confrontation with Thomas, it was slightly unnerving. He'd also commandeered the living room once again, which left Tom with only his room to go back to and contemplate on the confrontation he'd utterly failed to halt in anyway.

He felt like he should maybe do some damage control but Thomas had obviously been hit pretty hard by the whole thing and he wasn't sure he was capable of dealing with that. But well, hours later, should be okay. Tightening his fist the slightest bit, he gathered up his hard-won, alcohol-aided resolve and knocked.

Nothing happened.

Tom frowned and knocked again, a bit harder this time. "Thomas? Are you in there?"

Oh for fuck's sake, why was he even bothering with knocking. He tried the handle. It was locked. Ah, that's why.

"Thomas?" he tried again. He was about to knock once more when he heard shuffling from inside the room. After a moment or two the door finally cracked open to reveal a clearly rumpled Thomas, a shaky hand on his visor attempting to adjust it. Had he just put it back on?

"What do you want?" he asked hoarsely in an attempt at hostility that fell entirely flat.

Tom frowned in concern, taking note of the fact that having one hand gripping the door to keep it from opening further left him with only one shaking hand to struggle to adjust his visor, which he seemed to be utterly failing at. "Do you... need help with that?"

Thomas stilled entirely, tensing up at the prospect of anyone's hands coming anywhere close to his sockets. Tom realized this a moment later and quickly backtracked. "Ah, you don't hav-"

"...okay." came a small, barely audible whisper.

Tom blinked, befuddled by this turn of events. "...wait, are you sure?"

Thomas didn't respond, mouth set into an apprehensive grimace, but he lowered his hand from his face in a clear affirmative. Tom gulped, suddenly feeling weighed down with the rare and entirely unexpected trust being placed upon him.

He slowly raised his hands, taking care to telegraph his movements even if he wasn't sure Thomas could even see them right now, and gingerly touched the edges of the visor. Thomas tensed a bit more but didn't move otherwise so Tom took that as permission to continue. Carefully, as if holding the most delicate glass in he world, he shifted it around until it was fitted properly on the older man's face.

Electric green eyes finally appeared on the display, looking simultaneously tense and reluctantly thoughtful. Tom took one look at the absolutely wrecked man before him in his entirety and got an idea he was at least halfway sure was absolutely terrible.

"Wait here a moment." he said as he went to execute it anyway.

Half a minute later he came back from his room with Susan in hand, much to Thomas' obvious astonishment. Something seemed to relax within the soldier and he let the door fall fully open, not looking at Tom's face.

Tom's lips formed a small, amused smirk as he entered the room and closed the door behind him. He sat on the mattress beside a silent, curled up Thomas who was apparently refusing to look at him directly and settled Susan on his lap. He thoughtfully ran his fingers down the strings before he settled on the tune he wanted to play, peaceful and slightly melancholic.

As he played, he noticed Thomas release some of the wound up tension he'd been holding onto and relax slightly into the wall at his back. Well, useless drunk or not, at least he was good for something. Music filled the air in the room, dissipating any lingering tensions in its path. A few minutes later his fingers settled on the guitar, unmoving even as the strings still vibrated underneath them. The last few notes lingered before settling down into silence.

"...I missed that sound." Thomas said into the fresh void of sound, chin resting on the arms curled around his knees and head tilted to side just enough that he could look at Susan from the corner of his sight.

Tom hummed, "Army keeping you too busy too play?" he'd meant it jokingly but it came out biting and slightly accusatory instead and he winced at the same time as Thomas flinched.

Thomas hesitated, "Well, that and... Susan... didn't really make it past the first year of the war. They raided our new base, back when we'd just started the 'rebel' army and..." he trailed off, wincing. Tom was silent, knuckles going white from tension even was he kept his grip on Susan gentle, and Thomas felt like he needed to keep talking. "I, um, finding any working instruments at the time in England was kind of impossible, especially electric ones. So I didn't get to play at all after that."

Tom forced his lips open to ask, "And in your Red Army?"

Thomas hunched a bit more over himself, "...I didn't really know I had hobbies at first. And when I remembered..." he shook his head, "...it would've tipped him off if I'd just suddenly started playing again."

Tom didn't really need to ask who he was and he was kind of glad Thomas hadn't mentioned his title (or his name) because just the thought of the twisted future version of his former housemate made something cold and ugly and nauseating curl up in his chest. It almost felt like a cold, inhuman hand wrapped around his heart and lungs, ready to rip them out of his chest at the first opportunity.

He started playing again, a bit absentminded and consciously trying to relax his wound up shoulders. Out the corner of his socket he saw Thomas staring at Susan in something akin to longing, but not quite hopeful enough to define it as such. He looked back down at the bass, fingers faltering before stopping completely.

He couldn't believe he was actually considering this.

Tom released a defeated groan as he hunched almost protectively over Susan a bit. Thomas had trusted him with his visor, his vision, probably his greatest trauma.

His grip tightened and he had to consciously loosen it.

Well alright then.

Without really looking he lifted the bass guitar from his lap and in Thomas' general direction, taking great care not to bump her against anything. Thomas blinked confusedly before his LED eyes widened in growing bafflement.

"You- I- I can't-"

Tom sighed, running his free hand down his face. "Just take her before I change my mind. This is a one-time thing, it's never happening again." he warned, voice clearly strained.

Thomas' mouth clicked shut and after a moment of hesitation he slowly reached out to grab the bass. Tom barely managed to release her and he watched as Thomas grasped her gingerly but firmly. He held Susan as if he was holding an ancient, priceless artifact, with care and veneration, and something in Tom's chest eased at the sight. Maybe this wasn't such an absolutely terrible idea after all.

Thomas settled Susan on his now crossed legs but his hands hesitated inches above the strings. A troubled frown crossed his face.

"I don't... It's been so long..."

Tom mulled this over for a bit. "...you don't have to play anything in particular. Just... try to get back into it."

Thomas pursed his lips doubtfully but his fingers slowly moved towards the strings. He tried out a chord, which came out sounding screechy and exceedingly off-tune. He winced as Tom snickered, shooting the younger man a disgruntled look before looking back down to whatever his hands were doing that was so terrible. Adjusting his fingers, he tried again and got a decent sound this time. He tried another chord, and another, and after a while he was playing a slow, simple tune, a small smile gradually spreading on his lips.

Tom watched on and while a part of him was riddled with all kinds of anxiety, another felt secure in the knowledge that he'd made the right call.

Didn't mean he wouldn't demand his bass back right after this, though.

AN:

"i should totally write a chapter centered around an instrument i know absolutely nothing about! that makes sense!" hahafuckme
and here we see another good example of how terrible i am at estimating. this whole interaction was supposed to take maybe 500 words before i got to the actual meat of the chapter. then it turned into a chapter of its own. oh well, the pacing works better like this anyway. next chapter is gonna be... hehe

please tell me what you think! i feel like ive mellowed out thomas a bit too much...
and come talk to me on tumblr!