TWs: Past scars, painful memories/broken promises, mention of killing/suicide attempt. Stay safe :)

'Jeg lovte.'

Mismatched eyes opened reluctantly, not wanting to see another day. He had the same dream again, the same memory. It was like a broken record, replaying in his mind, repeating every night, recounting what happened before it all went wrong.

He blamed himself. He made a promise that he couldn't keep.

Getting up with a grunt, Tord heaved himself out of bed and prepared for the day. As he adjusted his robot arm, he glanced at the ring on his bedside table. He frowned as he gazed at it sadly, reaching over to take his eyepatch.

He shook his head, heading into the bathroom. He hated seeing his reflection in the mirror; his face was riddled with past scars, his neck and shoulder, and parts of his chest also scratched up. His hair managed to grow, even if it looked uneven on one side. The caramel locks were at his shoulders, probably tangled like every other day.

It reminded him of how Pat kept his hair; only his was neater, and he knew what he was doing.

Tord had no idea what he was doing as he grabbed a hairbrush and went at it. He was in a world of his own while getting ready.

'I should call a meeting regarding...' Tord stopped, his hands fiddling with his belt. He pressed his lips thinly, feeling his hands shake slightly. He huffed as he finished tightening the belt around his coat, 'Right.'

Before he left, he looked at himself in the mirror, getting a view of himself in the blue and red uniform. He winced, quickly storming out before he could berate himself.

The hallway was well-lit, and security cameras were scattered throughout the hidden structure. Tord was about to make his way to the planning room when he figured everyone would be in the dining area instead.

Changing directions, Tord made his way down the hall, hearing faint voices coming from the room. He stopped by the open door, hesitating before going inside.

He noticed how everyone grew quiet as he walked past, how their gazes followed him as he sat in the corner by himself.

He heard someone walk up and sit in the chair beside him, "Red?"

"Pat." Tord rasped, not having used his voice much in days.

"What's been happening?" His father asked.

Tord steadily looked up at him, noticing Matt and Tom sitting at the other table, "I don't know..."

"I think you do know." Pat leaned in, "You locked yourself in your room after you heard Edd-"

"Don't." Tord glared, "Don't bring it up."

Pat looked at him, "Tord. You need to face him."

Tord shook his head, "I can't- I won't-"

"He's going to get hurt if no one's watching him. He nearly killed his past self; do you really think he's safe by himself?"

Tord averted his gaze, glaring at the table. He heard Pat sigh.

"I should continue making breakfast..." He muttered as he stood up and walked away. The red leader said nothing, choosing to fiddle with his hands as he heard his friends whispering to each other.

"So, are we gonna talk about..." Matt trailed off as he sat down at the long table. He gestured with his hand, "Y'know?"

Tord sighed, "Not now, Matt. We have more... important matters at hand."

It pained Tord to say that, and he felt the stares of the others burning into his back as he wrote on the whiteboard.

He started the meeting by telling them about what's been happening recently and how they can try to stop it.

"The King has... outlawed cola, and England's been getting shipments recently from Russia and, ugh, America." Tord's face scrunched up in disgust, "Don't know what's in the boxes, but those two don't bode well together."

"And what are we supposed to do?" Tom asked.

"Matt, you will keep a lookout on the Southeast side of the coast. I hear there's a new shipment coming in a few hours. Tom, you get..." Tord trailed off, "Central."

"What? But you usually do Central." Tom spoke, his green virtual eyes blinking.

"What, think it'll be too hard for you? I mean, I understand- it is heavily guarded."

Tom nearly growled, "Fine, I'll do it."

"Great!" Tord grinned, "Meeting adjourned."

The leader stepped out of the room.

"I want to kill him," Tom muttered.

"Oh, how I hear that phrase every day." Matt rolled his eyes, taking his husband by the hand. Tom huffed, playing with the ring on Matt's finger, "Remember-"

"'To take it off so it doesn't get lost, stolen, or damaged,' I know." Tom finished.

Matt pouted, "I just don't want the money you spent on it to go to waste..."

"All my life savings..." Tom uttered, "It was worth it, though."

"You're such a flirt." Matt smiled.

"Tell anyone, and I will deny it." Tom frowned. Matt chuckled, holding his hand as they walked out of the planning room.

Edd looked in the distance, peering up at Big Ben- or what was left of it.

The clock's face was destroyed and cracked, and the hands were no longer working. You could see the inside of it, the gears no longer turning. It was just a display of what once was.

He sighed as he stuffed his hands in his brown coat.

Everything changed five years ago. It felt like it was just yesterday that he was with his friends laughing and having fun. That he was with Tord.

But he wasn't. He hasn't felt, talked, or even seen Tord in years.

A gruff meow sounded behind him, prompting Edd to peer over his shoulder.

"There you are, Ringo." He said to his precious cat, "Where have you been?"

The zombie- or catbie- padded closer, expecting to be pet. Edd leaned over, petting her rough patches of fur.

"I didn't see you for a while after you went after that squirrel... don't wander off too far, girl, it's dangerous." He muttered, getting a short noise from Ringo, "We should continue our mission..."

Edd stood up, feeling his pockets for the gun Tord gave him. It was a shame that Matt and Tom managed to take away his time travel device.

'Oh well, guess that means I can't kill my past self...' He thought, then stopped as he considered something else, 'But, what if I...?'

The brunette's train of thought trailed off as he looked down at his hands, 'Maybe...'

Green eyes wandered to the ring on his finger, a single promise. He frowned. He couldn't do it, not without seeing Tord one last time.

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Norwegian =
Jeg lovte - I promised

(Translations brought to you by Google Translate)