Tom laid in the bed for days on end. His body gradually got better and the cuts turned to scars, burns started to disappear (but some turned to small scars). Tom still had his wariness around Tord, still not trusting anyone.
While staying in bed, he had time to think about his...dream. He just...couldn't understand it. Sure, he hated Matt and Edd after they-he wouldn't kill one of them though..and the other voice, it sounded so familiar and its choice of wording sent a shiver down his spine.
"Because I told him to, dear old friend..."
As he continued to contemplate, Tord walked into the room. "I see you're recovering fine. Now, I know you have some questions, which I'll answer some later. But, I want to see how you're doing, can you get out of bed?" Tord looked over his medical chart, which was laying beside the medic-bed. Tom looked up at him with his pixels and shrugged.
He slowly, but surely, started moving out of the bed. It creaked and groaned as he shifted himself, careful of some non-healed burns. He placed his feet on the smooth cement flooring, he shivered at the lose of warmth. Tom used his hands to push himself off the bed. He wobbled for a second, then settled himself.
Tord gestured to the wooden door, "Well that answers my question, come on, I know you have some questions of your own."
