The New kid

Drunkenly Drunk (p.s drunk)

Tom's P.O.V

"Ughghhnn" I groaned, lifting my head, the blurry faces focused and my eyes adjusted to the screen. I blinked several times before realizing what was going on.

"Speak of the devil," I regretfully moved my head to the right, dizziness hit me like a brick and I reached out my hands to hold onto whatever was near me but I was restricted. The Black Leader sat at the head of the table, a black satin cloth and fancy silverware was placed out. I looked to my left to find Tord wearing a Black soldier's outfit and keeping his eyes on the leader. Natasha sat in front of me. My hands were tied to my chair and a black muzzle cloaked my mouth. "Tell me, why is it you keep him so close to you?"

"We came here to discuss business, no?" Tord reminds him.

He scoffs, "It's so interesting," He picks up this knife and runs his finger along the edge. "I'm not used to having people disobey me, am I?"

"No Sir," she agrees.

He points the knife in our direction, "Do you know why that is?"

"Please, enlighten me." Tord smiles.

He smiles back, "Because Red Leader, they know they must be suicidal to do such a thing. But you," he laughs, "Well you aren't one of my soldiers. You're an enemy. Quite the change of pace don't you think? The Red Leader and the Black Leader sitting at the same table dining together. How long have we been at war now?"

"For generations."

"And yet, you dare to speak without being spoken to? In my base?" His chair screeches as he pulls it out. His heavy footsteps boom around us, he comes to my side and gently runs the knife across my chest. I feel a dim pressure and stare at the empty chair unflinching. "Do you know the difference between you and me?"

"No sir," his eyes are locked onto the Black Leader.

"The difference," He moves the knife to face level, "is . ." He lowers the tip to my cheek and begins to slowly press it down. I try to jerk my body back but there's nowhere to go, my face flares with a burning sensation, and a cold liquid seeps down my skin. "You are soft." Tord refuses to break eye contact, "Is that not enough for your little pet?" I try to compose myself, I know he's only trying to get a reaction out of Tord. I tighten my muscles and hold my breath. "Ohh, I know," He grins. "Servants," He calls. "Get General Hagan in here right away."

Wait . .

A tall young man with a perfect blonde haircut walked through the door. The same man who took over at the Red Base. "YOU TRAITOR!" I screamed at him. Tord didn't seem to understand what I was saying and looked confused at my incoherent muffled yells.

The Black Leader swiftly pulled my chair out and bent down to my level, "You see Mr. Thompson, I know everything about you. Your parents were killed by your little friend over here because they were working for me. Small world, isn't it? I suppose if you can manage to be friends with the Red Leader, it is hypothetically possible to become one army. You were the start of this experiment, could a Red Soldier live alongside a Black Soldier's child? But I was in for a treat when I found out who the two of you were. Tord Larson, someone who already has chemistry with my army's little flower." Tord uncomfortable shifts and looks at Natasha,

What the hell is he talking about?

"I have to say you two jumped right to it quicker than I thought. She tastes good, doesn't she? And what about you?" He grabs my face and looks me up and down. "A drunk and good-for-nothing alcoholic." He takes off my muzzle and sets it on the table. He opened a bottle, "Now you must be thirsty," He squeezed my cheeks together forcing my mouth to open, the hard liquor overfilled my mouth and spilled down my chin. If I didn't start to swallow I'd choke, "You look a little upset now Red. Does this bother you?" I helplessly chugged down the bottle. Bits and pieces of the night at the bridge flooded my memory. He took the bottle off my lips as I coughed and sputtered. "Come on, I know you want to do something." He pressed.