Childish (TomTord Fanfic)

Dread

"He got out?!" The lead scientist gasped. Tord had just finished explaining everything to the lead scientist, which was a long process since she kept interrupting him.
"Yes, he got away and the seamstress got shot, anymore questions?" Tord groaned, sick of dealing with the lead scientist.
"I am so sorry sir, you must be devastated! You must be so worried about him!" The lead scientist frowned. Tord froze. What the heck was she going on about?! Sure Tord missed Tom, there was no denying that now, but how dare the lead scientist, someone who was clearly a lower rank, accuse him of that?!
"Excuse me?!" Tord growled. The lead scientist cowered a bit at the sudden aggressive tone in her leader's voice.
"W-Well not to be rude or anything sir, but you were just hugging his hoodie," The lead scientist squeaked. Tord froze, biting his tongue to keep himself from blushing.
"Just get out," Tord stated coldly. The lead scientist quickly nodded. She ran as fast as she possibly could with crutches, and ended up ramming her face into her leader's office door.
"Ow!" She exclaimed. Tord rolled his eye and walked over to the door, holding it open for the lead scientist. She wasted no time in recovering from the mini crash, running back out the door, and nearly dropping her crutches twice on the way out. Tord lightly shut the door and trudged back to his desk, grabbing the discarded hoodie on the way. He sat down in his chair, the hoodie close to his chest. Back to his own little mindless self pity routine he guessed... This wasn't how a leader was supposed to act. He should be out there, checking up on the damages inadvertently caused by Tom's escape. He should be checking on his wounded soldier- er... Wounded seamstess, and scolding his medic for using all of their medical supplies on someone so replaceable. Ugh why couldn't he just get it together and be a leader again?! At this rate anyone could probably overpower them. Even armies as small as the blue navy... Tord had to forget about Tom. Wait... What if that were possible? No. That was just stupid... Right?
"That's it!" Tord exclaimed. He stuffed Tom's hoodie into a drawer and marched out of his office. If he couldn't get his mind off of Tom, then he'd have to force it off. Was this a little insane? Depends on the definition. Was it drastic? Yes, definitely. However Tord felt that he had no choice at this point. He would catch up to the lead scientist, and request that she construct a memory eraser gun for him. It was definitely possible, in fact he used to have one! Although he's fairly certain that Matt lost it in his old room filled with nothing but junk. Tord needed this. He needed to stop acting like some lovestruck idiot and start acting like the ruthless leader he once was. Tord began marching down the hallway... Only to stop. He froze in the middle of the hallway, mentally replaying his previous thoughts in his head. Did he just think of himself as a lovestruck idiot? He wasn't lovestruck, nor was he an idiot! He was a brilliant man who managed to regain Edd's trust just long enough to betray the gullible and fairly oblivious man. An idiot could never accomplish something of that caliber! As for being lovestruck? Wait... Was he lovestruck? What was even the definition of that? He's never felt anything but hatred for people! Well no, he was rather fond of Paul and Patryck, but nothing he could really define as love. He had never felt love before so... How did being in love feel? He didn't really have anyone he could ask about that. No one in love at least. Paul and Patryck maybe? No, they were definitely in love with each other, but he had just sent them to the researcher and he'd rather not contradict himself. He had just terrified the lead scientist and he doubted she was in love with anyone anyways. The seamstress was injured, the instructor should be doing her job right now, the ripper didn't really have basic human emotion, and the researcher was probably busy with Paul and Patryck. Maybe the medic? He had already talked to the medic once about his problems and it didn't go so well, but was there anyone else? He now had a choice. He could forget about everything using the memory eraser gun, or he could talk about it with someone. As cheesy and kind of gross as it sounds, Tord would much rather talk about it. He hated to admit but... He didn't want to forget about Tom. Not yet anyways. Tord sighed and walked to the infirmary, his depressing thoughts seemingly trying to drill their way into his skull unsuccessfully. Everything around him seemed dark- er... Darker than normal. He couldn't pinpoint why exactly, everything just did. It was as if the walls were closing in on him, and the winding halls supposedly had no end to them whatsoever. His horrible and oddly emotionally painful journey to the infirmary came to an end as the infirmary door came into view. Tord froze, silently questioning why it had seemed as if an elephant had tried stomping down the door. The wood seemed to be slightly splintered, however it was still structurally intact. What was he walking into? Tord sighed and opened the door, being extra careful with it in case the door wasn't actually as intact as it seemed. Huh, not as hectic as he thought. Although he was a bit confused at the sight in front of him. The instructor, who was supposed to be with the rookies, was asleep. Her head limp in the Seamstress' lap. The seamstress was also asleep, and while Tord didn't really agree with the medic wasting such valuable resources on her, he had to admit he did a good job. She seemed perfectly fine, and if it weren't for the slightly bloodied bandages wrapped around her torso, Tord wouldn't have ever even guessed she had been shot. Tord was almost certain the ripper would've been around as well to see his sister, but no. The ripper was nowhere to be seen. Maybe the ripper was colder than Tord had previously thought. The medic was nowhere to be seen either, which might have been even more startling. The medic would normally never leave a recovering patient's side! Upon further inspection of the infirmary, Tord noticed a metal observation table pushed into the corner. He walked up to it, and was slightly alarmed at the large amount of blood that was staining the surface. Hopefully that was just where the seamstress had been during her surgery. Before Tord could make any serious assumptions, he was brought out of his thoughts by voices coming into the infirmary.
"She hasn't done anything technically wrong! Well I guess I did have to buy a lot of sticky notes to talk to her, not to mention the amount of pillows I had to take out of the infirmary so they'd be out of her reach, but still-" The medic froze in place as he noticed his leader standing in the infirmary, his eye seemingly focused on the observation table they were going to hide.
"Red Leader," The ripper saluted, revealing some blood on the inside of his sleeve. The medic knew they should've hidden that body sooner. The medic noticed his leader glaring at him, as if he expected him to do something. Oh right! The medic quickly corrected himself and saluted as well.
"That's a bit better," Red Leader mumbled.
"Is there something you needed sir?" The medic stuttered. The medic was petrified as he watched his leader turn to him with a cold look that shook the medic to his core.
"Medic, we need to talk, come to my office," He stated, nothing but monotony in his voice.
"Y-Yes sir!" The medic practically squeaked, fear slowly taking over his body. Their leader nodded and quietly exited the room. Both men dropped their salutes.
"Are you alright David?" The ripper asked, noticing how much the medic was shaking.
"Oh no... I shouldn't have used all that medicine on the seamstress... I'm probably going to be executed," The medic trailed off.
"David you should not worry so much, you are our medic, you are hard to replace, Red Leader could not execute you even if he wanted to," The ripper explained. Unfortunately, the medic was stuck in panic mode, and there was no getting out for him.
"Gah! I'm so going to die," The medic whined.
"David you-"
"I might as well just except my fate! This was long overdue," The medic groaned, walking towards the infirmary door.
"Wait!" The ripper shouted, putting his hand on the medic's shoulder. The medic turned to face the much taller man. The ripper had only made him more fearful, which was evident from his wide eyes.
"W-What? If you have something to say, say it now... You probably won't get to once Red Leader is finished with me..." The medic mumbled, clearly trying to hold back tears.
"I... David I... Uh... Um... Nevermind, you are going to be fine, okay?" The ripper sighed. The medic slowly nodded. He of course didn't believe a single word that had come out of the ripper's mouth, but he at least wanted his friend to think he did something to help him out.
"Can you let me go now?" The medic asked in a quiet tone. The ripper took his hand off of the medic's shoulder, watching him as he shuffled away. For whatever reason, the ripper felt like his words had gone though one ear and out the other. At this point he could only hope that the medic's assumption wasn't correct.