Picking Back Up || TordTom fic ||

CHAPTER 1

That day was about three years ago. Though quite ironic, the day in question wasn't the day Tord left, but the day Tord came back.
About three years ago, Tord came back to greet his old friends, his ulterior motives towering over his seemingly innocent intentions of "catching up".

It was on a short notice. Of the three, Edd was the only one aware of his return, and admittedly it would be what he considers one of his greatest mistakes to this day.
On that day, the attempted murder of Tom happened, as well as the murder of their neighbor in the process. Tom rose from the rubble and shot with a harpoon gun where tord was. He didn't hit Tord, but the robot exploded under the impact and left Tord exploding along with it in the distance.
Tom along with his friends left the incident unharmed, for what that was worth. The house was destroyed, so they had to move out into an apartment in which the three would live separately, as neighbours.

Three years have passed since then, and things have barely changed. The group hadn't seen Tord since that day.

Not until today, Tom didn't.

It was pouring outside on friday, more than it was any other day of the year. It could have been a storm, but Tom honestly could not care less.
He was getting quite drunk.
Tom was never a responsible person, not six years ago, not three, and not now. He had a bad drinking habit since he was pretty young, and even though he probably would need it, help is out of the question.
Too much of a bother, and honestly Tom didn't WANT any.

He was holding a large bottle of vodka in his left hand, along with a bag of other smirnoff bottles in the other.
Not seemingly drunk. But really he was.
Not drunk enough to make it apparent though, so he was on his way home, alone in the rain.

Being soaked as he was didn't seem to bother him, though he started being extremely cold.
It's safe to say a hoodie and a T-shirt aren't really the safest options to go out when it's raining this badly.
Not even a Tom running on alcohol like he is right now would deny he was feeling cold.

He was feeling cold and pathetic.

He suddenly sobered up a little when he heard loud thunder. "That would be quite bad", he thought.
He started running, but the apartment was at least still half an hour away on foot, like he was.

After a slightly long drunk time of debating with himself, Tom decided to rest under the nearest bus stop, either waiting for the weather to calm down or maybe a bus to come pick him up.
It was way past the time at which buses come around, but it seemed to make sense for the "slightly" drunk brain at the time.

And so he rushed under the first bus stop he saw on the road. Funnily enough, he could have gone back a few steps the moment he heard thunder and have found a nearer stop. He just didn't think it through, for at least two reasons.
All that mattered to him was that now he was protected from the rain that he just noticed had been hitting his shoulders quite hard.

He sat there, mostly thinking blank thoughts, among them wether Edd would be worried or not.
Stupidly enough, Tom left his phone at home, thinking it would be a quick trip at the liquor shop like any other he's had.
It was safe to say he had enough vodka to last the night if the rain wasn't stopping, but the thought of it and a glance at the bag of bottles he had in his right was enough to make him nauseous.

"I'm not THAT bad of an alcoholic" he thought to himself.

Well, some people would be able to debate with that, but there was no one here. Or so it seemed like. Who but a dunkard like him would be out with such a weather?
He tried to find out when he found a figure running through the rain, towards the bus stop, from the side opposite to where he came from, on the same road.
The rain made things quite foggy, but a figure definitly definitly started to form.