Silence blanketed the room, heavy and deafening and constricting, a clawed, merciless grip around his heart squeezing and squeezing-
The world started growing blurry and Tord blinked it away, falling back to a more closed off demeanor. This wasn't the time nor the place to bare himself to the world.
(It had been once, once upon a time this had been the only place he could act true to himself for the most part, but things had obviously changed.)
He tried in vain to formulate the question that was burning on his lips, but this was all too complicated, too tangled up, and he couldn't possibly find the words. It was frustrating as all hell but he tried anyway, "What... why..." his throat closed up suddenly and he couldn't utter another word for a moment. It seemed though, that Thomas knew exactly what he'd meant to ask (and wasn't that creepy, that Tom's older self of all people was so in tune with him).
Thomas looked at the door instead of at him in what Tord suspected was an attempt to avoid meeting his gaze without making it obvious. "Your... future self and Edward... don't really have the best of relationships."
And.
Tord could only stare at him in a mix of bafflement, horror and condescension, "He wanted to kill me." the words dripped from his lips like venom, splashing and spreading and tainting his ears with his own words, corroding his very reality. They felt painful and heavy, like a confirmation.
Like judgment.
Was this his future?
He'd known he'd be sacrificing a lot for his ambitions. He'd known the things, the people he was leaving behind. Even as he'd hoped that maybe one day, once his mission was fulfilled, he'd be able to get them back, he'd forced himself to acknowledge the reality of the situation. Tord was in a precarious position as a budding revolutionary and his friends would have been a distraction of the potentially fatal kind.
He'd known they might feel bitter about that, resentful and maybe hateful. The world he wanted to create wasn't something everyone would immediately accept, especially not with the way he'd been planning to go about achieving it. It would leave scars, but it would also leave all four of them alive and relatively unharmed as long as he succeeded.
He'd known-
He'd thought-
He'd hoped-
But something... something must have gone incredibly wrong. Because these versions of his old friends weren't anything like he'd expected. Matthew was so quiet, so withdrawn, and his face-
Thomas seemed passive yet his very skin thrummed with agression, and so weirdly, strangely protective, so harsh and linear, like a well trained soldier-
And Edward.
Edward wanted to kill him.
Edward couldn't even look at him without the black tendrils of hatred gripping at his heart and shining from his eyes what would he do what he done what had he done-
"-ord! Tord! Snap out of it!"
Tord almost jumped out of his skin, his vacant gaze finally focusing to see Edd's half disgruntled, half concerned face extremely close to his own. He startled back, which was hell on the wound in his side, and frowned down at his lap, stubbornly silent.
Edd sighed in aggravation, "Don't think about it too much."
"But-!"
"You've got your own questions to answer, Tord."
His mouth clicked shut.
At that moment Tom, who had apparently left the room for a while without him noticing, reentered the living room from the kitchen, pointing behind him with a thumb, "He's at the neighbours'."
A tension Tord hadn't noticed before drained from Edd even as Thomas' shoulders hunched instead. Tord himself tensed once again at the reminder of the hurtbetrayedhateful man. Edd turned to him.
"Now that you're not dying and I know where to find Edward," he said gravely, "we need to talk."
Ha.
Haha.
No.
"We don't." his voice came out firm and unbending, a quality he'd had to learn in order to become at least something of a proper military leader. There was much he'd failed at, culminating in the regrettable full takedown of his little movement, but this was one thing he'd had to master early on. Be a statue of pure marble, unbendable, unbreakable, unshakable.
It was about time.
Edd frowned, "Wha-"
"I don't know what it is you want from me and I frankly don't care, Edd. But I don't know what's going on and you're all looking at me like you dearly want to accuse me of many things so I won't say anything until I know what this... what this is." he took a deep breath. A bit too demanding, but better than mute acceptance at least.
But now Edd seemed incensed and Tom behind him looked downright offended. "This, Tord," Tom started, almost snarling, "is because you're a fucking asshole with apparently degrading sanity."
Tord scowled, inwardly confused beyond measure. "What the fuck are talking about?! How is this whole time travel mess you guys have going on in any way related to me?!" because there was obviously something and he'd dearly like to know what.
Edd's demeanor had shifted now, instead looking strained, "Tom, wait, don't-"
"Don't what, Edd? Throw the truth in his face? Edward's right, I don't see why they even brought him here. He's a bloody criminal and he left of his own accord!"
Tord bared his teeth, sharp canines glinting menacingly, "I'm the leader of a revolution, you-"
Tom looked three seconds away from punching him in the face, "You're an out of control, manipulative son of a-"
"Tom!"
A fist came flying at Tord, but before he could even think of evading and probably aggravating his brand new stitches, a hand shot out from beside him, catching the incoming fist and twisting it behind the assailant's back as he was thrown onto the ground face first. This all happened in the span of about two seconds, leaving the rest of them reeling somewhat as Thomas pushed his knee into Tom's back to keep him in place.
"Don't move." his voice sounded robotic and monotonous, absolutely nothing like Tom, nothing like more accepting Thomas of the last few days.
And Tord had no idea what to think. Why. Why why why why. That was a very good question, really. Why defend him?
Why why why was Thomas so quiet reverent respectful robotic why why why
"Thomas!"
"Let him go!"
A twitch, almost a flinch, and Thomas seemed to waver in his position, seemingly just realizing what he was doing. With a discreet look in Tord's direction he jerkily let go and stood up, a shudder running down his back. "Sorry," he muttered shakily and moved to stand beside Tord once again as if on autopilot.
Tom was staring at Thomas in something akin to betrayal as Edd and Matt helped him up and Matthew stood to the side, refusing to involve himself. But Tord didn't see any of that, could only stare at Thomas in something like wonderment and like cold cold fear and it sparked something within him, like adrenaline but rushing and exciting and terrible and so so terrifyingly open.
He had a niggling suspicion, a thought that seemed utterly ridiculous but-
But maybe.
He opened his mouth and spoke in a hard tone he'd used on his meager troops back in Norway, "Explain."
Thomas straightened.
And then he explained.
AN:
this chapter did NOT want to be written. fuck this chapter seriously. also fuck tord and his stupid ass interfering in my established dynamics, why did i think this would be a good idea? -sigh- i was listening to my melancholic playlist while writing this and i think it shows a bit
also im aghast! no one said anything about my cute, wonderful new colored illustration in chapter 20! (i worked 4 hours on that seriously guys)
anyway, heeeeey, comments really motivate me to write so it'd be nice to get some ^^;
and talk to me on tumblr at .com