TWs: Intoxication/alcohol, Mention of death/killing/secrets/blaming/past wounds. Stay safe :)

Larry watched as the time ticked slowly on the wall. It's been a while since he's woken up. He would say about two weeks or so. He's been hearing some doctors talk about releasing him soon.

He sighed, blinking as it turned 18:00. He turned his head to the window, watching as the sun was setting in the atmosphere.

A knock at the door startled him out of his daze as he noticed the sun was almost out of site. Looking at the clock, he realized he'd been watching the sun for 35 minutes.

"Come in." He rasped, clearing his throat as he reached for the cup of water next to his bed.

He quirked an eyebrow as Arthur walked into the room.

"You don't usually come at this time," Larry spoke after taking a sip of water, "What can I do for you?"

"I think a better question is: what can I do for you?" Arthur phrased.

Larry scoffed, "What?"

"I've known you for a long time, Larry." Arthur said, "How long has it been? Over ten years."

Larry stared at him, wondering where he was going with this, "And...?"

Arthur sighed, "How long will you keep your past a secret, Lawrence?"

The younger's greyish-blue eye gazed out the window again, looking at the starry night.

"I don't mean to pry or sound harsh, but it's been ten years since you've been in the Black Army. You've held onto so much for so long; surely you're ready to let some of it go?"

"I..." Larry stopped, then shook his head, "I can't."

"You can," Arthur spoke as he thought momentarily, "Remember our last argument?"

Turning toward him, Larry frowned, "What about it?"

"You were right." He expressed, "You saved me multiple times, and I wasn't there to protect you."

Arthur sighed again, tapping his cane against the floor.

"You're missing an eye because of me. You were seen as a traitor because of me." He winced, "And I'm sorry for that."

There was a few seconds of silence before Larry spoke, "You did save me, even though it was one time."

"I did?" Arthur muttered.

"I knocked you out after, but we were battling it out on a building that was under construction. It was like a game of Jenga where part of the building was collapsing, I was about to fall off a ledge, and you grabbed hold of me."

"Sounds like me." The ginger nodded.

"But why'd you do it?"

"You still don't get it?" Arthur inquired, "Ever heard of 'innocent until proven guilty?' I give people a second chance to prove themselves."

"That's stupid," Larry grumbled.

Arthur smiled wistfully, "Blame my wife for the mindset."

Larry frowned, feeling the bubbling guilt stirring in his stomach, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." The older turned away, "It was my fault anyway."

"What?" Larry looked at him incredulously, "You were hundreds of miles away when it happened; what are you talking about?"

"She died of Cardiomyopathy." Arthur spoke, "AKA Broken Heart Syndrome. Only close relatives know how she died. Bing always seems to know how to make my life harder."

"Bing blames you...?"

"He doesn't say it, but I can always tell when he's glaring at me."

Larry hummed. He would have to talk to Bing about that.

He glanced outside again, looking at the stars in the endless night sky. He sighed as he made his decision, "Fine."

"Pardon?" Arthur turned to him.

"I'll tell you, only if Matt's there." He spoke.

"Huh, I thought you would say Bing."

"If I tell him, he'd kill himself by rushing into the flames alone."

"Fair point."

"And the other one as well."

"Other... one?"

"Yeah, the one who looks like he's been through hell and back."

'Must be talking about Tord...' Arthur pressed his lip in a thin line, "Alright."

"Also, I have to be released." Larry crossed his arms.

"Wh-What? But you're still healing." Arthur sputtered.

"I can barely feel a thing." He shrugged.

"That should be concerning-"

"I've been in the military since I was sixteen; I'm pretty sure I can handle a gunshot wound."

Arthur frowned, glaring toward him, "If you're so sure..."

Tord looked at the map of England, hovering over it and examining it carefully.

'They would be somewhere more out of sight... maybe somewhere along the outskirts?' Tord took the cap off his Sharpie and brought it along to the edge of England, 'Maybe around here or here.'

He drew a couple of question marks, indicating to look more into the locations.

Pat and Pau watched him from the kitchen, worrying silently. Pat turned the stove on low heat and turned to Tord.

"Tord, how long do you plan on using the table? You have to eat sooner or later." He lightly joked.

Tord hummed, acknowledging him, yet didn't say anything as he drew another question mark on the map.

Pat huffed, glancing at Pau, who looked back with the same amount of concern. Looking back at the younger, Pau knew he had to tell them eventually.

If only he could remember clearly.

Later that night, Tom stumbled on the sidewalk, slightly intoxicated. He caught himself on the side of a building, holding on to the bricks. He groaned as he kept on walking, taking his flask out.

'I really shouldn't...' He thought, yet took a sip anyway.

He nearly choked on a yelp as he tripped over a rock, his flask dropping to the ground and spilling out.

'Talk about karma...' He blinked slowly as he bent over to pick it up.

Whoosh.

Standing up again, Tom shivered as he looked around through the darkness, a lamppost shining brightly over him.

Seeing nothing, he clasped the lid on his flask and continued walking, slightly tripping over himself.

Tom shakily opened the complex doors, acknowledging the landlady, Eos, who was reading a Shojo-Romance manga. He didn't even question why she was up late, as she always seemed up and about.

He let out a yawn as the doors of the lift closed. He pushed the button and waited, leaning against the railing for balance.

The bassist was really out of it as he stepped out of the elevator and walked toward his room.

He scratched at his wrist as he closed the door, feeling irritated and warm as he went to his bedroom.

Sighing, he took off his hoodie, wincing at the sight of his arms as he wrangled a random long-sleeve shirt from his dresser, and pulled it on.

"Tom...?" A voice muttered.

Turning around, he saw Matt standing in the doorway, "Matt! How long have you been there?"

"Just got here." Matt smiled, shrugging, "Didn't want to sleep in my room again..."

"Of course." Tom rolled his eyes playfully.

Noticing the slight slurring in his speech, Matt quirked an eye, "How long have you been out?"

"A few hours, don't worry about it." Tom waved his hand, brushing past him, "I need to go to the bathroom; feel free to do whatever."

Once he was gone, Matt's smile dropped. He looked at the blue hoodie that was discarded on the floor. He bit his lip as he sighed.

'Tom...'