Tord was anxious throughout the rest of the day. His mind wouldn't stop thinking about today's events. Sure one of his bases blew up and many of his soldiers perished in the blast, but not only did Tom finally return to him but Matt somehow found his way back to him as well.
He was so giddy with excitement he adjourned a meeting earlier than usual just so he can process the day's events.
Truthfully Tord wanted nothing more than to hurry back to his quarters and catch up with Tom, but he promised the Brit he would give him some time to properly rest before they can reunite accordingly. Plus; Paul and Pat are just as anxious to hear all about his adventures as he is!
To put his mind at ease somewhat, Tord decided to spend his time inspecting the wounded and count his losses in the infirmary where he may be on standby should anything happen to Matt.
"Red Leader!" Yanov dipped his head toward him as he stepped into the infirmary. Doctors, nurses, and wounded soldiers bustled about the area. "May I have a word with you? It's about the patient you asked us to keep close tabs on."
"Yes, what is it?" Tord crossed the threshold, arms folded neatly behind his back.
Yanov cleared his throat. "The private in question is going to be fine, but he will need surgery for a full recovery."
"What are we looking at here?" Tord asked.
"Well his jaw is broken beyond repair, his right eye is unsalvageable, and he has severe head trauma presumably from when the base collapsed in on itself after the initial blast. We don't know the full extent of his injuries to the head as he is still unconscious – we might be looking at memory loss, concussions, delayed reactions, and nausea for the following days." Yanov explained coolly, handing his leader the x-ray graphs of his patient. "Frankly, he's one of the few survivors who got off lucky. And that's saying something!"
Tord sighed, not liking the extent of Matt's injuries as it will involve a lot of changes in order to nurse his friend back to full proper health. Changes his poor friend might not appreciate so much once he gains consciousness and sees the full extent of them for himself.
But it's for his own good.
"You may proceed with the surgery." Tord ordered, handing back the graphs. "Restore him to prime functioning and notify me the instant he is conscious. Replace all damaged tissue with prosthetics. I will notify the lab to get the needed parts ready."
"Yes, sir."
With a dip of their heads they parted ways. Tord wanted to keep himself busy and keep a close eye on Matt, but he was also dying to spend some quality time with Tom even though it's only been a couple hours at best since he left his boyfriend to nap in his bedroom. He couldn't wait any longer!
There was also the matter of the Red Army's mysterious enemy to deal with, but Tord was deliberately putting it off to the back of his mind for later. The whole army is riled up enough as it is. They need to calm down, gather their bearings, get that filthy rat Reagan back where belongs, and then properly formulate another plan going forward. They can't let this mysterious assailant intimidate them into doing something stupid!
Besides, Tord was so ecstatic by the presence of his two old friends back in his life that he wasn't about to let a little thing like the destruction of one of his bases of operations and the death of hundreds of his soldiers dampen his mood.
Tord sighed, lifting his head and squaring his shoulders as he walked through the busy hallways towards his office.
Things haven't been exactly easy since the start of the war. The Red Army has conquered several nations and already started applying the necessary changes to improve the world and society as they all know it. However, although unwilling residents of the great Red nation, the people they stake claim over in the process were anything but defeated.
Every day there was some sort of struggle, protest, or wild attempts to resist the help they were providing.
The media was the worst part of all. Painting the Red Army as genocidists, blood-thirsty and vicious individuals who killed indiscriminately! The gall of them! They only ever raise their weapons at soldiers who stand in the way of achieving their goals – never citizens; no matter how difficult they may act.
Can't the people see he's only doing this for their own good? So far he hasn't done anything to warrant this much backlash. No citizens were harmed, he hasn't persecuted any minorities, he is readily handing out resources for the people directly affected by the war to help sustain them by any means necessary. And yet he is still considered the big bad guy for starting a war!
Tord sighed in exasperation, pushing open the door to his office as he stepped inside. It can't be helped. People will find fault in everything, no matter how much good he actually does. He could effortlessly solve world hunger tomorrow and somehow still be branded as the villain.
The day was nearing its end, all soldiers had their orders and the most pressing issues had been addressed. Their long awaited takeover of France will have to be postponed until they can track down the asset and unmask the perpetrator behind the destruction of the bases. For once in a very long time, Tord found himself with some free time. He can't remember the last time he took a break.
A perfect opportunity to spend some quality time with Tom.
Carefully he opened the door to his bedroom, just a crack, and peered in. But oddly enough Tom was no longer there. In the bathroom perhaps? He couldn't hear the water running and squinting at the gap under the door he could see the light wasn't on either. So where is Tom?
Tord decided to check in with his most trustworthy comrades in the entire army.
Pulling on the red spined book in the shelf, the entire bookcase moved aside to reveal a small lift. Tord walked inside and descended to his Commander's quarters.
When the lift doors finally parted, Tord was surprised to find Paul and Pat and Tom eagerly chatting in the living room over drinks. A pang of hurt and envy pierced Tord's chest as his eyes landed in the scene before him. Were they catching up without him?
"Oh hey, Tord!" Tom looked up at him. "Come join us."
Patrick must've caught the brief injured expression on his face and was quick to elaborate. "Tom came down here for a glass of water when we bumped into him. We started talking, and well… one thing led to another and we decided to settle down and chat since we're done with our duties for the day." His eyes steadily bore into Tord's. "We would have called for you, of course, but we weren't sure if you were busy or not."
"It's fine." Tord cleared his throat, a weak smile forming on his face as he composed himself. "This is fine. Better late than never as I always say."
Paul frowned. "Since when do you say that?"
Tord shot him a quick glare as he approached. His face softened as he turned his attention back on Tom, and sat down beside him. "So how was your journey out there? Tell me. I want to hear all about your travels and endeavors." Tord urged, squeezing one of Tom's hands with his own robotic one.
"There's not much to tell, honestly." Tom began to explain. "After I left the base all those years ago I made my way south of the continent, stayed near the coast for a little while, and then I took a boat to Egypt."
"Oh c'mon now, Thomas – don't be such a tease. I'm sure you've seen plenty and learned lots on your travels." Tord chuckled. "Don't spare us the details now."
Tom ducked his head, scratching the back of his neck. "I mean… I experimented with some exotic traditional foods here and there. Studied some cultures along the way. Even picked up a few extra languages. I bought a boat in South Africa and made my way to Brazil. I always wanted to go sailing, though life in the open sea is pretty harsh. Wouldn't recommend it unless you're avidly prepared."
"What place that you visited was your favorite one?" Paul asked, taking a sip of his drink.
Tom hummed pensively. "I think… Brazil. Definitely Brazil."
"So what have you been up to this whole time?" Patrick questioned, eyes narrowed.
"Oh just… traveling really. Learning, I guess." Tom shifted, looking between Paul and Pat respectively. Tord couldn't help but wonder if Tom was purposefully trying to avoid eye contact with him. "I, uh, took up writing now."
"Oh?" Tord's eye gleamed with interest. "So you're a writer? That's amazing. Have you written anything?"
"I have been… working on something, yes. But it's not finished yet." Tom said shyly, trying to appear modest. "I thought since I enjoy creating content, be it films or music, I figured I would try my hand at writing a book. And I really like it! It's relaxing and takes my mind off of the present."
"I would love to read your work someday." Tord said. "Maybe when your book is finally finished I can personally help you publish it. Everyone knows how strict the writing industry is, and I would love to give you a hand when the world is finally mine."
Tom's gaze flashed toward him, and Tord flinched when he saw the mixture of alarm and discomfort in his digital eyes.
"I, uh… I appreciate the offer, but I'd rather try to do the whole process by myself." Tom muttered apologetically. "If I ever decide to publish it I want to do it by my own terms. Not because my boyfriend has high status and can bribe my way to success."
Tord blinked. "I didn't mean to-"
"So Tom that Harley you rode in with is a pretty cool model." Paul quickly cut in, sensing the awkward tension rising between them. "Where did you get that?"
"Barcelona. Like I said I found it in a junkyard, bought it, and fixed it good as new." Tom replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "It took quite a long time and lots of patience, but I managed to replace all the old busted parts with brand new ones and get it back to working order, good as new."
"So you tinkered with the old motorbike." Tord echoed in awe.
"Yeah, I sort of had to take up tinkering as a side hobby of sorts." Tom shrugged. "The boat I bought would often have a problem with the engine that I had to fix. There was this one time I scrounged up this old radio and adjusted its inner workings to work properly; there's of course the Harley, I also managed to fix this busted old laptop to suit my writing needs, and I even made myself a new bass guitar I named Rick."
Admiring Tom's handsome features and sturdy body, Tord glowed with pride. "That's wonderful!" He wrapped one arm around Tom's shoulders, bringing them even closer together. "We can tinker together now. I can show you the ropes and teach you so much about mechanics and engineering."
Tom slightly pulled away from him. "Sounds great, but I don't think I am nearly as enthusiastic about tinkering as you, Commie." He said matter of factly. "I just learned the basics out of necessity. Personally I don't really enjoy the thought of picking things apart only to rebuild them all over again. Kinda frustrating, to be completely honest. I think I will stick to writing, but thanks for the offer."
Tord's heart sank. He was just trying to be excited for Tom's accomplishments and find something to bond over to reconnect again. Why was Tom shutting him down each time?
"So what made you decide to come back after all this time?" Pat asked, changing the subject yet again. "You know, your radio silence left us very worried; Tord most of all. But it's great to have you back."
Tom stared at each and every one of them. "I wanted to be back among friends again."
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Patrick's question sounded casual, but Tord guessed from the stiffness in his shoulders that there was a deeper meaning to his question.
Tom glanced at him. Pat's gaze didn't waver. "Life out there is amazing, and I learned a lot and seen so much and met plenty of different people along the way. But it was all very lonely." He confessed. "I figured five years was long enough time to get my sh#t together."
Tord stared at him, his eye narrowing. He wanted to believe Tom did come back solely so they could finally be together again, but something about the vagueness in his boyfriend's statement made him think otherwise. Just what is Tom hiding this time?
It seems Patrick shared the same concern as him. His honeyed-green gaze flickered towards him briefly before setting back to Tom. "Well whatever the case may be, we are happy to have you back."
Tom nodded, taking a sip of his drink.
"So… what do you plan to do now that you're here?" Tord asked. "I don't expect you to join our cause and fight for us now that you're here, by the way. I am merely curious."
"Stay a while. Catch up. Help out here and there if I can." Tom replied. "And now that I know Matt is here I need to stay for his sake. Speaking of which; how is he doing?"
Tord sighed. "I passed the infirmary on my way here. He is going to need surgery to amend his wounds, and prosthetics to replace the damaged tissue. But he will make a full recovery in no time." He answered, twining his robotic fingers with Tom's. "We are lucky not to have lost so many of our soldiers in the blast this time. It's truly fortunate that Matt made it out partially unscathed, unlike so many others."
"When can I see him?" Tom asked.
"Soon, but not yet." Tord soothed. "He will need time to recover. My medics will notify me the moment he gains consciousness, and then you'll be able to pay him a visit."
Paul cleared his throat. "Any news from the agents about the source of the attack?"
Tord tilted his head. "I received news from one of our personnel that, although split apart, the surviving agents are on the case right now. We should hear news from them soon." He growled. "I for one can't wait to find out who is bold enough to attack the Red Army in the heart of their own land."
And that's all he was willing to say on the matter with Tom sitting next to him. Tord didn't want to discuss army related things with his boyfriend finally so close beside him. He wanted to relish the close proximity between them and his companionship.
"I am surprised you guys are free so early from your duties, given there is a war currently going on and one of your bases was just destroyed." Tom said. "I would reckon the three of you would be all over the place to get your sh#t together."
"The war is going fine." Tord replied. "And everything we could have done regarding the destroyed base has already been dealt with, so I don't see why any of us should waste our time fretting over something that's now out of our hands. Besides, you don't need to concern yourself with any of the details, Thomas. Let us do our jobs, and you just sit back and relax while I win this war."
Tom frowned. "Wow, glad to see your confidence hasn't dwindled one bit in my time away."
"Of course! After all," Tord flashed him a grin. "Why should I be worried when my army is currently winning and there is no one out there remotely strong enough to stop us?"
"Except for your mysterious attacker." Tom pointed out under his breath, crossing his arms.
"Enough army talk. Let's focus on what really matters." Tord shook his head. "Why did you stop responding to our messages, Thomas?"
Tom hesitated. "It's nothing dramatic – I was kinda busy, is all." He replied lamely. "Learning how to tinker, meeting new people, traveling and writing, you know? I'm sorry if I worried you all, but I was just trying to live my life."
Paul and Pat nodded with understanding, but Tord looked at him with a hurt expression. Tom had forgotten about him? After everything they've been through? How could he? He'd been worried sick, sending him messages day and night, eager to learn all he could about Tom's whereabouts or get any sort of sign that he was in fact alright when all of this time he merely forgot to check back on him?
However, rather than exploding on Tom and demanding proper answers, Tord faked a relieved smile and blinked at him kindly.
"I see." He murmured forcefully. "You were just… busy. That's fine. I know how hectic life can be, as I am often busy myself. It happens."
Patrick caught his leader's eye and frowned, shaking his head slightly in disappointment.
"I am glad you've come back to us." Tord continued, ignoring his General's unimpressed look. "What do you wish to do now?"
"Oh we can play video games or watch movies?" Paul suggested. "Pat and I started watching this mystery drama show, it's really good."
"Maybe some other time, hun." Pat placed a gentle hand on his fiancé's shoulder. "Today has been one h#ll of a day for all parties included, and as fun as it was catching up with you, Tom, we might have to retire early to bed today. I hope you don't mind."
Tord scrutinized his General closely. He didn't look particularly tired. Was he only saying that so they could give him alone time with Tom. If so, Tord wouldn't mind.
"That's fine. I am feeling pretty tuckered out myself." Tom yawned, stretching his arms until his joints popped. "We can hang out some other time."
"Lovely!" Tord jumped to his feet, clasping his hands together. "We'll leave you be. See you two in the morning for breakfast, perhaps?"
Pat nodded. "That would be great."
"Splendid! We'll be on our way now. Goodnight!"
Tord hurriedly grabbed a hold of Tom's hand and escorted the Brit behind him in long strides that made his boyfriend almost stumble and fall, and quickly shoved themselves in the tiny lift. It was a tight fit for both of them, but Tord bundled in after Tom and they began to ascend towards his office after a rushed farewell to Paul and Pat.
When they finally arrived in the privacy of his quarters, Tord breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Tom.
"Well, geez, if I didn't know any better I would think you are eager to have me all to yourself, Commie." Tom teased, his digital eyes sparkling mischievously. "Don't be greedy."
Chuckling, Tord wrapped his arms around Tom's waist. "What can I say? You've left me yearning for five years. I think I earned the right to be a little selfish when it comes to my boyfriend."
He didn't give Tom the chance for a witty retort, and simply dove in hungrily for a kiss. Tord had been looking forward to this moment for the longest time, and he wasn't about to let Tom get away from him yet again. So many interruptions in so little time. It killed Tord to have Tom be this close to him and still be unable to do any of the affectionately adventurous things he had in mind for the longest time.
Tom froze for a split second before responding in kind with the kiss. Tord dipped him and cupped the back of his head lovingly until he ran out of air and pulled away.
Breathless, they stared at one another through half-lidded eyes. With mirroring smirks they pushed open the doors to Tord's bedroom to continue catching up.
Morning arrived way too soon for Tord's liking. He barely even slept as he stared down at Tom's sleeping form next to him the entire night, hardly believing the elusive and stubborn man was finally reunited with him at last; admiring the steady rise and fall of Tom's chest as he snored softly in his sleep, his arms wrapped around him.
He still had a couple of hours until the morning gathering commenced and he had to begin his usual busy routine, and frankly Tord wouldn't mind spending the rest of the night staring longingly at Tom and occasionally peppering his face with soft kisses. But what is he keeping from me? He asked himself, bewildered.
However, the communicator on his robotic arm beeped with the arrival of a notification and Tord begrudgingly pulled away from Tom to inspect it.
It was Yanov, informing him that Matt's surgery went on without a hitch and he was healing well.
Tord debated whether or not to get out of bed now to check up on him or wait until the morning to do that in order to spend a little more time appreciating Tom. In the end he decided to check up on Matt now rather than later, knowing Tom would want news regarding their friend as soon as possible.
Carefully climbing out of bed, Tord deftly put on his uniform and before he left the room he bent over to place a kiss on top of Tom's temple. "I love you." He whispered.
Rubbing the sleep away from his eye, Tord stalked out into the empty hallways and headed straight for the infirmary.
Yanov stood at the entrance to the medical bay already anticipating his leader's arrival. "He's resting now, but the operation was a success. I expect in a couple of days he will be back to his duties after he's gotten used to his new design."
Tord tipped his head. "May I see him?"
"You may." Yanov said calmly, beckoning him farther inside the facility. "But he won't be conscious for at least a while."
"Good." Tord walked past him only to halt in his tracks and glance over his shoulder. "You've done an excellent job monitoring all the wounded soldiers. I'm sure you've done all you could for them. Go on and rest. You've earned it."
Yanov dipped his head, dark bags under his eyes. "Thank you, sir."
Without another word, Tord entered the infirmary room Matt was stationed at. He slipped inside as quietly as possible. The soft and steady chiming of machinery was the only audible thing in the simple white room. Tord's gaze fell on the unconscious limp figure sound asleep in the gatch bed. He looked so small and frail, curled up in bed. His friend has always been sensitive. This attack never should've happened, and Matt wouldn't have gotten hurt.
Tord stood by the side of the bed and sighed. He shifted his focus on Matt's prosthetics instead.
Matt's lower jaw had been replaced with a stainless steel metal plate, and though he could not see it right now, there was a sizable bulge beneath his right eyelid that gave away the robotic implant likely lodged inside the socket in place of his biological eye. Only time will tell how well his friend will adjust to these modifications.
It's been nearly seven years since the last time they've seen each other. How will Matt react when he wakes up and learns his role in the Red Army? Matt willingly joined the Red Army, so perhaps he sees reason in his actions. That would be most ideal.
His best friends fighting alongside him to secure a better future for all of them. It's all Tord ever wanted.
For the longest time he figured he needed to face his future alone and let the past die, but now Tord knows he can take the best aspects of his past with him along his destiny to become supreme leader of the world. With both Matt and Tom by his side, he can work on his plans with a little more vigor now that they are a constant present light in his life.
Don't get him wrong; he loves Paul and Pat dearly but as of recently the duo have been extremely busy with their jobs in the army as well as their weddings plans. It didn't leave much room for him in their schedule.
Like the famous saying goes; three is a crowd.
But with Tom and Matt around he won't have to worry about getting bored or alone ever again!
A low groan cut through his thoughts, snapping Tord out of his deep pensive state. Glancing down, Tord stiffened. Matt was awake and looking up at him, clearly dazed and trying to make sense of who he is currently looking at. His right eye was a mechanical lens that turned and focused in perfect coordination with its blue biological counterpart as he regarded him, its iris dilating into a tiny red dot.
Tord swallowed and smiled nervously. "Hello." He greeted softly. "I'm glad you're okay."
Matt didn't respond. He merely stared back at him numbly.
"Do you-" Tord shifted and hesitated, his heart fluttering with hope. "Do you know who I am?"
"Mmh." Matt mumbled, licking his lips. Apparently he didn't seem to mind that half of his mouth was all metal. "Can I have a glass of water, please?"
Looking at the nightstand next to the bed, equipped with a jug of water and a few plastic cups, Tord poured water into one of the cups before readily handing it to Matt's awaiting hand.
He watched his friend drink the entire cup in silence. When Matt finally finished, he sighed and turned to him once more. "Thanks, doc!"
Tord frowned. Did he seriously mistake him for a doctor? Technically he's not wrong, but it's a little insulting that he did not recognize him. Wordlessly, Matt rolled over in bed and closed his eyes, promptly going back to sleep.
I guess he is too tired to think properly right now. Tord figured. I shall visit him again once he's fully conscious, and THEN he will finally be able to recognize me.
