Complete Again (TomTord Mpreg)

Eight

It was snowing in Wimbledon.

Tord had forced himself to land a few miles away from Tom's address, landing the small plane on the edge of a forest and covering it in leaves and brush to hide it. The last thing Tord wanted was to lose Tom after he had just found him, just because he was too stupid to cover his tracks. Without a doubt the army was looking for him, especially now with "we'll find you within a week" stuck in their heads. They probably wouldn't hurt the baby if they found Tord, but they would surely accuse him of abandoning his post and being reckless before forcing him to the lowest rank. Maybe they would kill him for treason, anyway. Either way, Tord didn't want to find out.

He tore the badge from his coat, stashing it in his pocket. He put on his old hoodie, making sure the hood was large enough to cover the right side of his face - thankfully, it could. He left his rifle in the plane, but took his pistol in its holster, just in case things went south.

It was February, the chill of the early morning air hanging heavy as Tord trudged through the snow. If it wasn't for the snow that was falling, the world would've seemed to be at a stand still - there wasn't even wind to encourage Tord to keep moving.

Each step he took was careful and light, like a deer delicately walking through the snow.

It took longer than he'd like to admit to reach the apartment complex, his nose and ears burning with chill as he finally reached the apartments.

He sighed quietly as he pushed open the door to the building, the heat washing over his body in droves. Finding Tom's apartment wouldn't be too hard, he had written the room number down and mapped out everything.

Third floor, seventh door on the right.

Oddly enough, when Tord knocked, nobody answered. He knocked four separate times, all meeting silence. He turned around, looking at the other doors and hoping he wasn't disturbing the peace.

Chills ran up his spine as he read the placard of the door across the hall.

"Edd"

He turned his whole body to face the door, his hand raising slowly as he thought about the consequences of knocking.

Three knocks against the door, three nerve-filled knocks that made Tord's body burn with anticipation and fear.

A few moments passed with nothing, so he hesitantly knocked again.

He heard something shift from behind the door, and he began to fidget with the fabric of his jacket.

"It's two in the morning, what do you-!" Edd froze at the sight, and Tord couldn't blame him.

It had to have been horrifying for him, seeing the man who had put him through hell at his very doorstep, bleary-eyed and disheveled and stained with tears. He may have gone through hell to get to Edd's door, but he had put the three of them through something ten times as worse.

Edd's breath audibly hitched and he took a step back, afraid that Tord was going to attack him. The noise caused a figure to peek past Edd from the sofa, their anger quickly turning to shock.

"...Tord?"

Despite the darkness of the room, Tord recognized that voice.

"Thomas! I-...I-!"

"I thought you were dead." Tom interrupted flatly, brows furrowed as he looked at Tord. His eyes traveled over Tord's body, stopping once they reached the arms folded over Tord's chest - one robotic, one real. Part of his face was still hidden by his hoodie, and Tord hoped Tom couldn't see it.

"Please come out, Tom, I need to talk to you. It's a lo-"

"Like hell I'm gonna listen to you!" Tom spat. "You nearly killed me! You nearly killed all of us!" Edd stayed frozen in the door, looking back at Tom as he continued to argue. Tord could tell that they were scared of him, all three of them, but there was nothing he could do.