Blue as Bruises, Red as Blood (TomTord)

•8•

It was dark. Tord looked around, only to see nothing. It was also quiet. Too quiet. Though, a familiar smell surrounded Tord. Only one thing was on Tord's mind: nicotine.

Tord followed the smell of the cigarettes, walking through black nothingness. He really needed one, he felt guilty about the whole situation back in Norway. He couldn't go back, and he knew this. In fact, he didn't want to go back. It was all too much for him. He remembered Paul's defeated stare as he left the airport. Tord felt the gaze burning through him, even though it was just him and his thoughts. He had felt guilty ever since.

The Norwegian walked for what seemed like forever before finding a lit cigarette in the far distance. It had soft glow from the smoke coming from it. The smell calmed Tord. His footsteps echoed through the blackness.

As he stepped closer, he quickly realized the glowing smoke was beginning to fade. "No no no... Please no..." Tord froze as the cigarette was dying out. He took a running start and leapt for the cigarette on the ground, hoping it would still be lit if he grabbed it in time.

A loud thud echoed the room as he collapsed on the cigarette, feeling the calming item die. Tord sighed in defeat.

He slowly sat to his knees, feeling pain on his chest because of how hard he landed. He reached his hand, rubbing a spot on his chest where it hurt the most. He knew it would probably leave a bruise or something. Tord looked at the ground.

He felt his blood run cold for a split second.

Instead of an unlit cigarette, there lay a knife. Tord's eyes widened as he stared at the knife, realizing how lucky he was that the knife didn't pierce though his chest. He hesitantly reached for the knife, grabbing the handle.

He looked at the weapon, closely examining it. Why was it here? Was he supposed to be stabbed? Who put this here? Who else is here? Tord's thoughts ran wild as his body started shaking with fear.

Tord jolted as he heard a familiar voice.

Paul.

"You're a fucking traitor. You betrayed your team, you were supposed to lead us!" The voice was filled with aggression. Tord felt the tears build up as his guilt started flooding back into his mind. "Shut up, Paul! I couldn't handle it, I hated being in the Red Team, and I'm never going back!" Tord screamed.

"You couldn't handle it because you're weak, Tord. You left your soldiers out to die. You left your people out to die. It's your fault, Tord. Human beings have lost their lives because they have no one to lead them. And it's all your fault."

"Shut the fuck up!" Tord suddenly clutched the knife, bringing it to his chest. He breathed heavily, letting the anger take control of his body. "I'm going, Paul. I'm never coming back!"

The Norwegian froze as the knife pierced his chest. Tord still gripped the knife, feeling the warm, red liquid cover his fingertips. He managed to slowly bring his head down, getting a good look at his chest. He saw his chest stop moving, the blood staining his hoodie a darker shade of red. Air was quickly escaping his lungs as they filled with his blood instead. He dropped to his hands as he slowly sunk to the floor, a measly grin slowly spreading on his face.

"I'm never... c-coming... back..." His vision quickly faded.

Tord awoke at a start. He began to hyperventilate at saw that he was once again safe in a familiar room. His eyes were frozen on the ceiling, his silver stare full of fear. He shakily brought his hand to his chest, feeling it rise and fall very quickly. I'm alive... I'm okay... I'm safe... Tord's thought cycled.

He suddenly became aware that a pair of dark eyes stared at him. He regretfully look at Tom's face. It looked as if Tom were about to burst into tears.

"Tord... you scared the shit out of me. Are you alright? You were screaming and freaking out in your sleep." Tom said with a soft tone. Tord was breathing too quickly to respond, as only a silent whimper escaped his lips. Tom brought his hand to Tord's cheek, gently stroking it. Tom shushed the Norwegian in a low tone. Tord gave him a stare that read, help me. The man in blue got closer to Tord, pulling him to his chest for a hug. He could feel him shivering in his arms.

After a few moments, Tom felt his partner slow down his breathing, his partner now silently staining his hoodie with tears. Tom calmly ran his hand up and down Tord's back. He felt Tord shakily wrap his arms around Tom's waist, starting to go silent. Tom closed his eyes, slowly running his fingers through Tord's rust-colored hair.

Tom played with his hair for a few minutes. He realized Tord was starting to quietly snore. The Brit slightly smiled, lowering his head as he rested his head on Tord's soft hair.

"Best Christmas ever..." Tom whispered half to himself. He closed his eyes, holding Tord close.

Nothing will ever hurt you, Tom thought. I promise you, my dear.

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I no joke almost started crying when I wrote this holy flying fuck I'm such a baby lol