The pair of men held themselves in the dark, waiting with bated breath for the other to move first. To accuse or attack, to say literally anything. Tord's heart pounded as he stared into the other's eyes. A difficult feat to say the least, on account of the lack of eyes to stare into. He had a general area, at least.
The staredown continued into an uncomfortable territory. Tord's gaze drifted towards the door, wondering briefly if he could just.. leave. It wouldn't be the greatest idea, however, considering he was only wrapped in a towel, with his fresh clothes waiting on the edge of the bed.
Tord wanted to tell him a million things. He wanted to apologize, to explain himself, to excuse his actions as being the fault of the Foundation. He opened his mouth, ready to start explaining, when the jingle of keys cut him off. Tord looked towards the front door, while Tom's gaze remained fixed on him.
The yellow light from the hall flooded the single room apartment, the quiet chatter between Edd and Matt ceasing as they took in the scene before them. Edd hadn't had a plan for their reunion further than 'be there when they're both awake at the same time', and it seemed as though that plan was scrapped. He sighed, and Matt leaned close to him to whisper in his ear.
"This isn't how you wanted this to go, right?" he whispered.
Edd rolled his eyes to the side, stepping into the apartment. "No, Matt, it is not."
Matt followed behind, the tension in the air so thick you could cut it into strips and tie it into a bow. Tom was on the couch, eyes pinned on Tord, and Tord appeared to be sweating bullets. Or maybe he was just dripping water. He did look freshly showered, after all.
Matt stood, watching them, while Edd made his way into the kitchen and flicked the lights on. In the brighter light, Tord could clearly see the expression on Tom's face to be barely contained rage. He took a few steps back, glancing at Matt for help. The ginger shrugged and left to join Edd in the kitchen, leaving Tord to fend for himself.
Cursing the man under his breath, Tord slinked away, grabbing the pile of clothes he left on the bed and returning to the bathroom to change. He'd had his own shitty shower just minutes prior, discovering new aches and pains and scabs where there shouldn't be any. His hand was almost completely busted, skin burnt and arcing scarred marks reaching up his arm. It hurt to move, and he wouldn't be surprised if he ended up needing an amputation sometime in the near future. He considered himself lucky it didn't do more damage than it did.
Tord flipped the clothes over in his hands, recalling Edd giving them to him. That must've been early that morning. They'd arrived at the apartment complex, and Tord had been awake enough to walk himself inside. He had kept his gaze averted from the unconscious Tom as Edd carried him out of the car, finding the idea of waiting for the elevator to be way more interesting. Once inside, Edd laid out a simple schedule for that day; he and Matt would leave around 9 AM for their work, and would be home around midnight. Edd gave him the clothes, told him to rest up, and everything after that was dark. Mostly because Tord took the offer and passed out immediately.
It took him longer than he would've liked to get dressed. Only one functioning hand surely made it more difficult. Once dressed, he glanced in the mirror. Even after the shower, he didn't look great. His hair had dried a bit, and the two pieces that stuck up annoyingly had reappeared. The shirt, reading 'SMEG HEAD', and pajama pants that were definitely too big for him.
What a joke.. he thought, squinting at it. If he recalled correctly, it was slang for 'idiot.' The pants, which he had needed to tie around his waist, were decorated in soda cans. Fitting, from what he remembered about Edd.
Speaking of.. as he looked at himself closer, he took notice of the fact he'd absolutely dropped a couple pounds. The bullshit the Foundation put him through was likely the cause of that.. Gaunt face, sunken eyes, and an arm burnt to a crisp. Tord thought about bandaging it before he exited, but realized he would need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of asking for help.
Voices from outside the door caught his attention, dragging it off his deteriorating body. They weren't trying to be quiet, as there would be no point. The entire apartment was just a room with an attached bathroom, privacy was next to none.
Tord leaned close to the door, putting his ear up to it. He could hear all three men on the other side, presumably arguing.
"Look, Tom, we couldn't leave him there! Besides, we didn't have any idea of what he'd done!" That was Edd's voice. Defending him, at least.
"You're damn straight you don't know what he's done! He made me think he was my friend! Then he sicced some psycho bitch on me and ignored me for weeks-! That's not even scratching the surface, Edd." Tom's tone cut clear and hard through Edd's defense. Tord frowned, wondering who 'psycho bitch' could possibly mean. Employing his stellar deduction skills, he guessed that Tom was likely talking about Eva. They did have a sort of scuffle, after all..
"Who's the psycho bitch?! Did they follow us here?" Matt said, ever worrisome. There was a short silence before Tom replied.
"I don't remember what happened to her. I think.. I think I killed her?" He sounded quieter, unsure of his recollection. Tord thought back to it himself. The last he remembered was Eva running away after a close encounter with Tom, just before Edd freed him. He turned away from the door, the others' conversation becoming a bit more muffled.
Back pressed against the thin wood, Tord tried to put together an order of events. The last week felt like it took place years ago, and he was only just now uncovering the dusty memories.
There was something with Eva. That was how it started. Eva had gone to check on Tom while Tord slept, and Tord found her injured. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to think back to it.
He stuck with her through the recovery process, his thoughts focused on his friend and not his work. As he reviewed the events, he recalled her acting strange about him reviewing the security footage. Something about them not working, so that's why she had to enter the cell to check..? Why had she entered the cell to begin with? As far as he remembered, he was one of the few with clearance to access Tom's quarters. Eva was not.
What happened after felt blurry. He had checked on the man, but didn't recall seeing anything amiss. Then the entire thing with the security breach, Tom coming to him, Roskam.. Right. The Site Director took Tord aside and did something to his brain. Everything past that point felt muddled, like something dark was obscuring the memories fully.
Flickers of feelings; fear, triumph, stab him as he focused on remembering and putting events in the correct order. Just as he felt he was getting close to putting something coherent together, a loud knock on the door jolted him out of memory lane.
"Doctor?" Edd sounded unsure of what to call him. Tord sighed softly, opening the door enough to see the other man.
"You can just call me Tord, Edd." God, even his own voice sounded like shit.
"Right, Tord. Everything okay in there?" he could hear Tom grumble something from across the room, and he made a conscious choice to not process it.
"Yyyes. I've.. I'm just trying.." his mouth opened and closed as he searched for the right words to use, coming up dry. "I'm done getting dressed. Is.. it alright if I come out?" Tord hated how fearful he sounded. The waver in his voice came off as pathetic, and he'd had a lifetime of feeling like that.
Edd gave him a thumbs up and a half-hearted smile, and Tord opened the door fully. He felt a little ridiculous in the pajamas, crossing his arms as he followed Edd to the bed. Matt and Tom sat on the couch across from them, Tom looking less than impressed at Tord's clothes. The Norsk could say the same about the other man; a bloodstained white shirt and Foundation brand, bright orange pants. He had no idea when Tom lost the outer shirt that matched the pants, but he felt he could get a pass on that.
They sat for a while, simply getting accustomed to one another's presence. Edd and Matt shared several looks that conveyed thoughts such as, shit, where do we go from here? and I don't know, man! I've never done something like this before! The minutes ticked by, and no progress was made.
Around the ten minute mark, Tom sighed, flopping back against the couch.
"So, what the hell was that about?" he deadpanned. Tord couldn't tell where he was looking, but it felt like the other man's gaze was anywhere but him.
"Thomas, you'll have to be more specific if you want a precise answer." Tord explained calmly, his accent a little heavier.
Tom's eye twitched, grumbling something about 'giving him a precise answer'.
"That doesn't even make sense?" Edd grimaced as Tord shot back.
"Alright, how's this for being specific: Why did you send your psycho girlfriend to beat the fuck out of me?"
A beat. Tord raised an eyebrow. Matt and Edd tensed, ready to grab either of the shorter men should they devolve into violence.
"I don't know who you're talking about."
"I'm sure you do, you asshole. I don't know who else in that damned hellhole would have a problem with me besides someone you know."
"If you're speaking of Dr. Mayberry, then you'll find yourself mistaken. We are not and never were dating." Tord narrowed his eyes, glaring at the Brit.
"If that's what you're going to call her, then whatever. I don't care what name she uses, she's fucking crazy."
"Thomas, I'm finding that hard to belie-" Tord was stopped short by Tom's interjection.
"Will you stop calling me that?! You sound like you're still brainwashed, or whatever they did to you." Tom huffed and briefly wondered if Tord was still brainwashed. If he ever was at all.
"Fine, whatever- Tom, I don't believe you're giving me the whole story."
Tom sat up straight, black eyes narrowed in anger.
"Are you calling me a liar?"
The two taller men could feel the dread hang in the air, and looked at each other with worry. This was something that was out of their league, and by a lot. What transpired between Tom and Tord was a mystery, and by the looks of it, it was a gruesome one.
"I'm not intending to. I'd just.." Tord faltered, eyes darting to the ground for security, "I'd like to hear you tell me what happened."
Tom softened imperceptibly. That was who he remembered. Tord's half blind gaze lingered on him, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. Maybe it was the acid from his previous trip to the bathroom stuck in his throat.
He groaned, covering his eyes with his hands. This was stupid. He was better than this. He didn't have to deal with this before everything. Tom was perfectly content in a shitty dead end life, occasionally transforming into a violent monster and taking several lives. Well, no, he wasn't content. He was miserable.
"Fine. Fine, okay, whatever." Tom looked up, and the feeling of Edd and Matt staring at him suddenly registered. "Do you guys mind if we do that.. in the hall?"
Edd and Matt shot each other concerned glances, but acquiesced. They nodded, and Tom stood up, beckoning for Tord to follow him into the hall.
The front door clicked shut, with Tom leaning on it and Tord on the opposite wall. Tom had his arms crossed, glaring at Tord. Might as well get this over with.
"I woke up with her in my face. I didn't even.. do anything. She hit me once and broke my nose, I think, and dragged me out of bed." The memory was grainy at first, but as Tom recalled the details, the picture began to fill in.
"I don't.. Know. I don't know why. She was hurting me just to hurt me, and she was going to get away with it."
The image of the claw marks down her back flashed in Tord's mind. They weren't particularly deep, but still worthy of stitches. The more he thought about the comparisons in injury, the more he doubted Eva's story.
"She pulled the alarm and the fuckin'.. guards, or whatever you guys called them restrained me." Tom had wondered where Tord was. He'd seen Tord. Saw him choose to help her over him. He shouldn't have been surprised; they went far back, supposedly. Tord talked about her during their meetings, from time to time.
"I kinda lost track of time after that. I don't know why no one thought to check on me. I don't know why you didn't." He spat out the last sentence, malice dripping from his words. Tord shrunk where he stood.
"Thomas- Tom." Tord began, not sure where he was going. "I.. Eva told me you attacked first."
"And you believed her?" Tom didn't sound surprised. That hurt worse than anything else he would have expressed; Tom already knew Tord wouldn't prioritize him.
"Was I not meant to? Eva had never lied to me before. Forgive me for trusting my friend, Tom." Tord snapped back sarcastically before leaning back against the wall.
"You know as good as anyone else that you could've checked for yourself. That place is littered with cameras, what made you think none of them would capture it?"
Tord looked at the ground as he figured his answer.
"...Eva told me they were nonfunctional."
"Of course- Of course! Fucking obviously! Why wouldn't they? And, y'know, you've got no reason to think she's lying! So you just go and believe anything your crazy fucking girlfriend tells you. Some scientist you are."
The air between them hung heavy with Tord's guilt. He stared at the stained carpeting beneath his socked feet, wondering how he could have been so gullible. How he could have let this happen and broken Tom's trust without thinking twice. From what little he knew, Tom did not have the easiest life. Riddled loss and death, weighted by heavy emotions, and yet he still went against his instinct and allowed Tord to befriend him.
Tom stared down the hall, fighting back unpleasant tears that threatened to spill over. He hated being so vulnerable. He hated Tord for getting so close, allowing him to bare his heart, and then shattering it without a second thought. He hated Tord for being so gullible, he hated himself for thinking he actually had a friend in the world. Something dark brewed within his chest, and for a moment he feared the worst. Tom wiped his eyes, waving away the purple mist that began to seep from his sockets, and took deep breaths in an effort to push it away.
"I'm sorry, Tom."
Tom's gaze snapped up, meeting that of Tord. Seems the Norsk had beaten him to the punch, tearing already sliding down his scraped cheeks.
"I do not know how to make it up to you. You.. deserved more than what you got. You deserved more than what I gave you. I do not expect forgiveness, but you should know I. I am sorry." Tord swallowed thickly, blinking tears out of his eyes.
"You can start by wiping your face."
Tord nodded, covering his eyes with his uninjured arm and wiping the dampness from his cheeks. He gasped when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and opened his eyes to see Tom closer than he was before.
"I don't forgive. I don't know if I ever will." Tom's voice was hard and clear, and Tord avoided his eyes.
"That doesn't mean it's not a possibility. You fucked up big time. I wouldn't be surprised if those crazy doctor fuckers were hunting us by now."
"They definitely are, by the way." Tord interjected, the idea of it cropping up in his mind for the first time since they escaped.
"Whatever. Look.. I.. ugh. You're dumb. This is dumb. Thanks for saying sorry, I guess. It was the least you could do." Tom's hand slipped off Tord's shoulder, and he took a step back. He smiled a bit, and Tord smiled back.
"I'll do my best to make it up to you more than just.. crying and apologizing, Tom. In fact, I believe I have an idea of where to start."
Tom's eyebrows raised in suspicion. "That was.. fast. How do you intend on doing that, then?"
"How about beautiful, glorious, bloody revenge?" Tord cracked a bigger smile, the ideas already beginning to flow. Tom seemed to catch on quickly, eyes widening as the idea truly sunk in.
"You don't.. really? You think that's actually possible?"
"Christ, Thomas. I was able to bypass security like it wasn't there. It's like you take me for some kind of idiot!"
"Well, in all fairness, you absolutely are." Tom leaned forward, intrigue clearly visible on his face.
"That aside, do you want to share ideas or not?" Tord crossed his arms, moving off the wall behind him.
"Speaking of sharing.." Tom glanced towards the door behind him. "You think they'd be down for something like this?"
"Pfft, are you serious? They're the ones that pulled us out of that mess in the first place. I have no doubts they would be 'down'."
Tom smiled at him genuinely, and turned to open the door. There were two thumps as Edd and Matt, pushed by the door, fell to the floor.
"You two were listening to that?!" Tom asked, anger bubbling up momentarily.
"We had to make sure you wouldn't kill each other!" Edd defended, holding his hands up.
"WE SHOULD ABSOLUTELY BLOW THAT PLACE UP!" Matt yelled, only to be immediately shushed by the other three. It was nearly 2 am by then, and their neighbors were already pissed at them without Matt's noise.
"Now that is the spirit!" Tord held out a hand for Matt to get off the floor, which the ginger gladly took.
Tom, Tord, and Matt looked expectantly at Edd, the only one who hadn't announced his contribution to the half baked plan that was forming.
"God, yea, what the hell. Let's blow that place up."
Tom smiled, and turned to look at his friends. Tord met his gaze and smiled back.