Featuring special guest appearance by Stella, the Red Army hacker - character belongs to depressedbat over on Tumblr.

Tord reunited with Paul and Patrick in their kitchen for breakfast long after his visit to the infirmary. He was tired from waking up so early, but more than that he was weary of all the recent happenings as of late. Paul was preparing coffee, while Patrick, wearing a pink 'kiss the cook' appron, was making omelettes by the stove.

"Good morning, sir!" Pat greeted him upon his arrival, his smile faltering as he caught the forlorn look on his leader's face. "Is… everything alright?"

"Is Tom here yet?" Tord asked, dodging the question.

Patrick tipped his head. "He's in the bathroom. He will join us shortly." He replied. "What's the matter?" He pressed again, his voice changing to the usual clinical tone he'd adapted whenever Tord came to him to vent about his many concerning issues.

Tord sighed. Where to begin? "Does Tom seem a bit… off to either of you?"

Paul and Pat exchanged perplexed looks.

"Tom seems fine to me?" Paul answered, though there was doubt in his voice as he scratched the back of his head. "Maybe a bit more reclusive than I remember, but I think it's just a matter of warming up to us all over again. I mean, he has been away for five years. Things tend to change in such a long amount of time."

"I think so too." Patrick agreed. "I know he seems a little cold now, sir, but given that he was off on his own it is to be expected that he might have gone through some personality changes in his time away. Give him some time."

"But why do I get the feeling he is hiding something from me?" Tord insisted. "Why the lack of communication in the last few years? I thought we would have earned his trust by now after everything we've been through."

"Don't jump to conclusions!" Pat warned as he set the omelettes down on the table for them. "We don't know everything Tom's been through. Be patient, and have faith that Tom will come to us in time when he needs us the most. Nothing good can come from pressuring him before he's ready."

"I know." Tord sighed dejectedly.

"If his "strange" behavior persists beyond the settling period, then you may approach and ask."

With a start, Tord's eye glowed with hope and he turned to his General. "Actually, Pat, I was hoping you could maybe… butter him up, so to speak?"

Patrick raised one eyebrow questioningly.

"Spend the day with him. Talk to him. Use your people-reading powers to find out what you can from him."

"Did my words just go from one ear and out the other?" Pat questioned, unimpressed, hands on his hips as he addressed his fiancé.

"It would appear so." Paul chimed in, sipping his mug of coffee.

"Please, Pat. Do this one thing for me, as your friend." Tord pleaded. "I am worried about him, and you know his past tendencies to keep others in the dark to spare them from his problems. What if this is another instance? We can't help him if we don't know what we're dealing with."

"Dealing with what?"

Tord whirled around, wide eyed, and found Tom standing right behind him. His neon digital eyes were fixed on him, and a small smirk tugged the corner of his lips.

"Oh hello, Thomas! Good morning!" Tord's face softened, his one eye full of adoration for the handsome Brit standing before him. "I hope you had a pleasant night."

Tom yawned, stretching his arms with a resonating pop. "It was fine." He said. "But you left early. Why?"

"Oh, nothing that important really." Tord answered idly. "Leader business, you know?"

Far from him trying to conceal the truth from Tom for any malicious purposes, but Tord was reluctant to reveal his visit to the infirmary to him. What good would it do anyway? Matt was still mostly unconscious and dazed. Tom cannot visit him just yet, and telling him would only worry him more.

And yet, the digital glare Tom sent his way was enough to tell Tord that he wasn't satisfied by his vague answer whatsoever.

Tord gulped, beckoning him closer as he pulled up a chair. "Come, let's have breakfast together!"

Crisis successfully averted, the four of them gathered around to eat together. Throughout the entirety of the meal, however, Tord found himself unable to focus on anything else other than Tom, sitting so close by his side as he ate and conversed with Paul and Patrick about their wedding plans.

Tord sighed lovingly as he watched Tom eat and laugh. He'd missed his constant presence so much throughout the years they've been apart. But now he is finally back, with him, and they can spend the rest of their lives together and rule the world just as he always intended!

But first he needs to get Tom to open up to him once more, and then deal with that pesky threat looming over his army and halting their progress of taking over the world.

Feeling a strong pulse of love for the Brit, Tord moved closer to Tom and gently placed his hand over his.

The physical contact lasted a couple of seconds before Tom moved his hand away. Tord felt his heart break slightly at the gesture, and Tom shot him an apologetic glance.

"So…" Tom cleared his throat uncomfortably. "What are you guys doing today?"

Paul shrugged. "Boring army stuff, mostly." He said. "I gotta reorganize the troops after the whole fiasco in Stavanger yesterday, and then check out the injured in the infirmary."

"Oh I can check up on the injured, Paul." Tord offered. "I have to go there myself later anyways. Yanov needs assistance with some prosthetic parts."

"Any news from Matt?" Tom asked him.

Tord frowned. "He's still unconscious, I'm sorry. But he's healing well as far as I know."

Tom looked like he wanted to press the matter further, but clearly thought better of it and turned away with a dip of his head.

"I need to inspect all the other sectors in the base, make sure they are all fully operational and functioning as intended." Patrick answered. "Oh but I also need to look over the menus for our wedding reception. Would you mind accompanying me today, Tom? I could use your assistance."

Tord glanced at Pat in surprise, and felt thankful when the General faintly nodded back at him in reassurance.

"Sure! I would be glad to help wherever I can." Tom smiled, happy to be included.

"Wonderful!" Tord clasped his hands together. "We best get going now, though. I have exactly ten minutes to start the morning report broadcast."

The Red Leader never makes public appearances; however, he made sure his presence was always a domineering and constant one over the nations as he made his announcements via worldwide network.

They cleaned away the plates and went about their day. As the four of them arrived in Red's office, Paul left with a quick salute his way and a peck on Patrick's cheek as the Polish man stood waiting for Tom near the doorway.

"Will you be fine without me?" Tord asked, taking Tom's hands in his as he peered into his digital eyes with adoration.

"I managed without you thus far, haven't I?" Tom's eyes sparked with mischief. He leaned forward to kiss Tord's scarred cheek. "Have fun with your little broadcast. And please, notify me as soon as you get any news regarding Matt's condition, alright?"

"I promise." Tord smiled.

They parted ways and Tord watched as Tom followed Patrick out of the room. He caught the Polish soldier's eye as he left and dipped his head. Tord was counting on him to get Tom to open up more.

For now, however, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Tord waltzed into the conference room where his throne and camera were already in their proper places for the start of the broadcast. A few of his loyal soldiers were getting into their positions to help transmit their leader's message for the entire world through all forms of media.

One of the hackers; a short, chubby pale woman with short dyed purple and black hair by the name of Stella diligently typed away at her computer without so much as a blink of her eyes as she connected their network to the whole entire world.

Sitting on his throne, Tord grabbed the mic and stuck it to his uniform as Stella began counting down to the start of the broadcast. "We're ready to go live in 3… 2… 1!"

Tord straightened up and cleared his throat with a dashing smile. "Greetings, citizens of the glorious Red Nation!" He began. "We are on day 1993 of the war! The Red Army is running well. Our continuous invasion of Europe is going as scheduled, as well as our progress with the American continent." He paused, debating his next words carefully. "It has come to my knowledge that not all of you are content with the new changes established by my organization and I. Some of you have even attempted fighting back against the inevitable! In fact, someone was sneaky enough to trespass well within our borders and destroy several of our minor bases of operations! Well allow me to congratulate you in your efforts, and discourage you from any further insubordination. Whoever dared provoke us, I give you an ultimatum. Stand down, or reveal yourself; come forward and face us like real men, if you dare. Otherwise I might just take drastic actions. I am sure we are all well familiar with our most recent takeover of Germany. I don't want to get into any specifics, but it was quite the bloodbath."

Tord's eye glinted maliciously as he peered into the camera, his expression wildly pleased.

"And this ends today's broadcast. Thank you one and all for your attention, and I request that all you viewers out there heed my words with caution. For your sakes."

The transmission ended with a wordless gesture of his robotic finger.

Jumping to his feet, Tord sighed and exited the conference room; running a hand through his hair. This should hopefully garner the attention of their mysterious new foe and have them reveal themselves. Even if the traitor in their midst isn't revealed to them yet, at least then they would have a better idea of who exactly they are going up against.

Lunch time was drawing near by the time Tord made his way to his next order of business. The Infirmary.

True to his word, Tord thoroughly checked on all the wounded soldiers and helped provide them with the necessary prosthetic parts some patients might need to fully recover. For his part, Tord was glad most of them seem to be making a full recovery. There have been far too many deaths haunting the army since the start of the war.

So many soldiers lost…

Tord shook his head stubbornly. Can't make an omelette without cracking a few eggs in the process. He thought idly.

"Excuse me, Red Leader?"

At the sound of his title, Tord turned around. Yanov approached him with a clipboard in his hands. The Russian paramedic must've taken up on his offer to rest because he looked well rested and properly refreshed since last time.

"Your patient of interest is fully conscious now." Yanov informed him. "He doesn't seem to have noticed anything amiss yet. I suspect the drugs haven't completely worn off just yet."

"Thank you, Yanov. I will go check up on him now." Red Leader dipped his head.

Tord walked down the white marble hallway with eager purpose to his steps. He felt jittery, and strangely excited. Matt didn't recognise me the first time, He thought. But surely he will once he gets a second look at me?

He'd arrived in front of the room. Tord released a heavy breath he didn't even realize he was holding. Here goes nothing!

Twisting the doorknob, Tord entered the room.

Matt was sitting up in his bed, a glass of water in his hands, and talking to a nurse that was in the room changing his IV bag. Judging by the flustered look on the nurse's face, Tord might've walked in on Matt flirting with her.

"Red Leader!" The nurse spotted him and saluted him at once.

Matt gasped and quickly copied her, straightening his posture in a humorous manner that almost made Tord break character.

"At ease." He commanded. To the nurse, he added, "Please leave us. I need to speak with him. Alone."

"Yes, sir." The nurse complied and left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Tord fixed his gaze on Matt. Now that his friend is properly awake and healed Tord could get a better look at him. This is the first time they meet face to face in seven years. Disregarding his new prosthetic jaw and eye, Matt doesn't appear to have changed much since he last saw him.

On his part, Matt looked gradually uncomfortable to be under such scrutiny and shifted uncomfortably in the bed. I am sitting in bed before the Red Leader. He realized with giddiness. He's kinda scary looking.

"Uhm, hi, uh, sir!" Matt mumbled sheepishly, ducking his head in embarrassment. "It's an honour to meet you, sir." He held his hand out for a hand shake.

Tord tipped his head, holding back a frown of disappointment as he stared down at the offered hand. He really doesn't recognise me. It can't be helped. I suppose I did change a lot since we last met, but I figured I would look familiar at the very least?

Shaking his thoughts aside, Tord gingerly shook Matt's hand with his robotic one. "The pleasure is all mine. I am glad you are recovering."

"Whoa!" Matt gasped, looking down at the robotic hand that grabbed his own. It felt cold and foreign. "Nice arm! Oh man, I wished I could have something like this." He gazed at Tord in awe, the lens of his robotic iris zeroing in on him.

"You do, actually." Tord said. He might as well take the opportunity to show his friend the true extent of his injuries.

Matt looked taken back. "No I don't, silly. Both my arms are flesh and blood, see?"

Tord frowned. "Yes, well… the rest of you might not be so lucky."

"What do you mean?"

"You've probably been wondering why you can't feel your mouth since you woke up, haven't you?"

Self-consciously, Matt began opening and closing his mouth experimentally and darting his tongue out to wet his lips only to find a foreign metallic object on his bottom jaw.

Grabbing the hand mirror on the nightstand, Tord returned to Matt with a clear view of his modifications.

Peering into the reflection, Matt found a familiar and yet strange looking face staring back at him.

Matt screeched. "My face! My beautiful face!" He touched his jaw, grabbing the mirror. "What have you done to me?"

"You don't remember anything?" Tord asked, and this time he couldn't quite hold back the hope in his voice.

Matt shook his head, crestfallen. "N-no! I- how did this happen?"

"You were stationed in our base of operations in Stavanger recently, correct?" Tord inquired, arms folded behind his back.

Matt hardly heard him, but nodded numbly.

Walking past him, Tord had his back toward him. "That base was attacked. We… still aren't sure who done it. But you were critically injured in the blast, and needed replacement parts in order to be restored to prime functioning." He lowered his head. "I am so sorry."

Matt continued looking at his reflection in the mirror. His initial horror slowly ebbed away, leaving behind only an incredible feeling of grief and guilt consume him.

Folding his legs up, Matt hugged his knees close to his chest and sobbed. How will he cope with having his handsome good looks ruined forever? What will he tell the others when he goes home?

Hearing his distressed sniffles, Tord glanced back at him, genuinely surprised to see his friend upset to the point of tears. He knew Matt had always treasured his looks above all else, but the changes weren't that drastic if you ask Tord's opinion, and he could still see, speak, and eat like any other person. Matt should be grateful he is even alive when so many others have perished in his place.

"Why the tears?" Tord asked. "You are alive, are you not? You're going to be fine, Matt. You'll need to stay and recover your strength, and soon you will need to eat something so you may get accustomed to your new jaw. Does your eye work fine? Can you see everything in colour?"

Matt sniffled. "B-but now I am hideous."

Tord rolled his eye. "You'll manage. There are more important things to worry about than your looks." He reminded. "In case you've forgotten, we are at war right now."

His words failed to make an impression on Matt, who only curled into a tighter ball and hid his face behind his hands. Tord sighed. He's really not good with pep talks. For half a second he seriously considered contacting Patrick to come over and soothe his distressed friend, but then he remembered Tom is with him and Tord really doesn't want his boyfriend to see Matt just yet.

He figured he could also contact someone from the psyche ward come take a look at Matt, but Tord felt that this should be handled personally by him. It's his childhood best friend that's in distress, not just any soldier. After hurting and betraying him, blowing up his home, and indirectly causing his permanent affliction it is the least Tord could do for him to start making amends.

Towering over Matt, Tord's voice softened as he placed a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "C'mon… who's my brave soldier? You'll get through this, I'm sure of it."

Matt stiffened. "Wait… what did you say?" He asked curiously, lifting his head to face him.

Tord tipped his head. "You'll get through this."

"No, before that."

"Who's my brave soldier?"

His words caused Matt to freeze, and his heart lodged up in his throat as he peered closer at the Red Leader. He looks so damn familiar, and yet he couldn't quite put his finger on it. But those words triggered something within him. A distant memory… of colourful buttons and joy, followed by an unexpected pain to his right eye as he was knocked to the ground… and a hazy, familiar figure who he thought of as a friend uttered those exact same words to him after causing him such pain.

All of the sudden, Matt ripped himself away from Tord's grasp and leaped out of bed wide eyed.

Tord didn't understand what he did to set his friend off quite so spontaneously, until he glimpsed a spark of recognition light up in his one blue eye as he stared back at him.

"It's you!" Matt gasped.

The tension left Tord's body and he beamed. Matt finally came to his senses and recognizes him as his friend. He knew he would eventually. Now he may at last rekindle their lost bond and properly apologize for his actions-

"You were the one who punched me in the face and blew up our home!" Matt continued, dashing Tord's hopes in the process.

He scowled. "Really? You finally remember me, and that's all you can recall about me?" His brow darkened. "After everything we've been through together, and all I've done for you, I am nothing more than a bad guy in your eyes?" He was nearly shouting now, his gray eye blazing.

Matt backed away, still staring up at him apprehensively. Oh my god, Todd is the Red Leader. He thought. And I just pissed him off!

Watching him edge closer to the door, Tord matched him with every step.

Matt was trembling. Todd had permanently modified his face overnight. What other plans did he have for him now that he is in his custody? Sure he seems polite and charismatic, but anyone who hurts him and his friends and then wages war on the world is clearly not right in the head.

"Come here, Matt." Tord approached him, reaching out for him with his robotic arm.

Letting out a short, frightened yelp, Matt twisted the doorknob behind him without taking his eyes off of Red Leader, and bolted down the corridor.

He didn't have a particular goal in mind – he just had to get the h#ll away from Todd as fast as possible. He just ran without ever looking back.

"Get back here!" Tord called, giving chase.

All around Matt; soldiers, nurses, and doctors stared in shock and awe as he raced past them, dodging and weaving his way through the medical wing.

"Don't let him get away!" Tord commanded. "Stop him!"

A doctor with slick black hair tried to block his path and calm him down, but Matt sidestepped him and continued running.

Soldiers started converging on his location like a swarm, but Matt was equally determined not to allow himself to get caught. There is no telling what would become of him if Todd were to get his hands on him now!

Elsewhere, just outside the infirmary, Tom accompanied Patrick throughout the base complex as the General went about his daily duties; all the while making idle conversation. Truth be told, Tom was a little awkward having free range of the base when he no longer had an obligation to serve the Red Army. Everywhere he looked soldiers would gaze at him quizzically, and Tom wondered if any of them recognized him from his brief time here all those years ago, or if the few soldiers he managed to befriend had all perished in the many conquests.

"I am really happy for you and Paul." Tom said. "You guys deserve being happy together after so long."

"Thank you, Tom. This really means a lot to me." Pat dipped his head. "I was wondering… now that you're here, would you like to be my best man for the wedding?"

"Me?" Tom echoed, touched by the gesture. "You want me to be your best man? But what about Tord?"

"Oh don't worry! Paul already picked him to be his man of honour. Unfortunately Tord can't play both roles for us, and I figured with Paul having known him the longest it would be more appropriate." Patrick explained. "But Paul and I have been talking and we would love it if you could play the part of best man for us in our big day."

Tom smiled. "I'll be honoured to!"

"Thank you. You've given me the best possible answer!" Pat dipped his head. After a few heartbeats of silence he cleared his throat. "So… what about you?"

Tom blinked, his digital eyes rounding with surprise. "What about me?"

Pat rolled his eyes. "Don't play dumb with me – I can tell something is bothering you." He said. "You must've seen so much in your travels. The last time we spoke you seemed so happy, but then you just… stopped responding altogether. And even now that you're back, you seem… reluctant, somehow."

Tom looked away, unable to respond.

"Did something happen out there, Tom? You can tell me. I won't tell Tord if that's what's bothering you." Patrick promised, placing his hand on the Brit's shoulder. "We could always confide in each other in the past. You may trust me now, too."

"It's complicated."

"We have plenty of time." Pat soothed.

Tom sighed, lowering his head. "It's just… things have changed so drastically, I can't keep up with everything." He admitted. "Truth be told, I wish I could've enjoyed my freedom a little more before making my way back here."

"What do you mean?" Pat prompted. "You returned of your own accord, have you not? What made you decide to come back after all this time?"

Tom opened his mouth to respond when Patrick's communicator went off. The Polish soldier pulled up the device screeching out static.

"All Red Army personnel, be on alert for a patient on the run. The target in question has bright orange hair, one blue eye and one mechanical iris, a prosthetic squared jaw, and wearing a hospital gown – was last seen leaving the Infirmary. Orders are to apprehend on sight. ~"

Tom's eyes widened and he stared at Patrick with disbelief. "Could it be-?"

Before either of them could make sense of the announcement, Matt rounded the corner ahead of them and was running their way. Not far behind, Tord was at his heels. "Grab him!"

Thinking fast, Tom jumped to block his path at the last second. Matt barrelled straight into him, and Tom wrapped his arms firmly around him as Matt began to trash and struggle in his hold in an attempt to get away.

"N-no! Let me go!" Matt cried out, twisting his head around to stare apprehensively as Tord slowed down and approached, glowering at him. "Please! He's going to hurt me!"

"Matt! It's okay. He's not going to hurt you, I promise!" Tom soothed loudly over Matt's own hysterical cries. "You're safe here! Don't be scared."

Tom tightened his grip on Matt, pinning his arms firmly to his sides and forcing his head into his chest as he kept on writhing. Unable to break out of his grip, Matt tired out and went limp.

Clenching his eyes shut, Matt gasped for air. The hold on him was strong and yet… strangely comforting? And that voice… why was it so familiar and soothing?

Once he was sure Matt wouldn't fight or escape anymore, Tom gradually loosened his grip on him and let him go. Matt blinked his eyes open and stared at him. A short man with wild, spiky brown hair, blue and black uniform, and an unusual device over his face displaying neon green pixels for eyes that bore into his own mismatched ones. Matt dared not to breathe.

Soldiers surrounded them on all sides and watched them interact with curious intent and abated breaths.

Matt stepped back and eyed at him up and down. Tom remained motionless as Matt circled him, his eyes dancing over his form questioningly before stopping in front of him. Hesitating, Matt reached forward to remove the visor.

"Don't." Tom grabbed his wrists, stopping them in their tracks.

Matt stiffened.

"If you take it off then I won't be able to see you anymore." Tom told him.

With a flash, Matt recalled a similar figure from his past who; despite his grumpy and rude attitude at times, was always a blast to be with, and deep down cared immensely for both him and Edd. A figure with unusual eyes Matt thought long gone, and missed very dearly.

When he peered into the digital eyes, the man before him seemed nervous. Matt studied his face closely, his eyes widening and blood draining from his face as he stared at Tom with disbelief plastered all over his face.

"T-Tom?" Matt asked, his voice rasping in his throat as he struggled to get the words out. "Is it really you?"

Tom smiled and nodded. "Yeah… It's me."

With a small gasp, Matt's eyes welled up with tears. His heartbeat picked up as he took in the friend he thought he'd lost all those years ago. "Tom!" He surged forward and wrapped his arms around Tom. Snuggling into a warm, solid chest and arms that instantly curl around him tightly. It is suffocating Matt and he bursts out crying at how much the pain proves to him that this is real. It's Tom! He's hugging his best friend again.

"It's you! It really is you!" Matt sobs, burying his face into the crook of Tom's neck, refusing to let go as they both collapsed to the floor in each other's arms. "You're alive! We thought you were dead! Where have you been?"

"I know. I know! I'm sorry, Matt. I am so sorry!" Tom shook his head, tears slipping through the visor as he cried out profusely. "I never meant to leave you. I'm sorry!"

The soldiers surrounding them watched the heartfelt reunion, unsure of what to make of the situation but sensing there was joy in the moment. Patrick observed them fondly when Tord lifted his chin. "Let us all return to our duties and give these two some privacy." He ordered the army. "Go on now; get a move on! There's nothing to see here."

Patrick glanced at him questioningly but did as he was told and began urging the others away from the scene. There would be plenty of time to talk to Tom at a later date and find out what was going on through his head. For now it was best to let him reconnect with his friend.

Tord stared at Tom and Matt hugging and crying on the floor, his heart aching as he reluctantly turned away and went back to his lonesome duties.