he was nothing. (Eddsworld)

Two.

Edd is there, as promised, on the couch, Tord on his right. He pats the space next to him. Tom sighs, relieved that he doesn't have to sit next to the communist.

"Sit, Tom. We're going to talk about this." Edd says stern, as if Tom can possibly refuse. Thus, he sits. "How's your nose?"

"Done having it's period." He sigh.

Edd laughs, Tord keeps his unamused expression. "So, Tord, give me your side of the story."

Tord shifts slightly, straightening his posture. He speaks in a matter-of-fact way, "Tom called me out on loving hentai so much. I told him to knock it off. He continued to push at it so I yelled at him. He was like "Oh hush" and I shoved him. He hit me back and we fought."

Hatred boils in Tom's stomach. Tord said it so casually. Plus, that was not at all how it went! Tom glares at him, slightly baring teeth. Tord sneers back.

"And Tom?"

"I said, "You love hentai because you can't get a girl or is it just for fun?" And he told me to knock it off." Tom explains. "I just said, "So I'm right?" And he shoved me. I push back and say, "Jeez, I'm just joking." Then he punches me in the face and we fought."

"You said that stuff a lot more rudely when you were talking to me." Tord remarked.

"No I didn't."

"Stop." Edd cuts in, startling Tom. "You're here to talk, not yell, not bicker, not fight. You have to learn to get along!"

That's another phrase Tom hates. Have to. You have to learn to get along. No, he doesn't. Edd wants them to get along. They do not have to get along. That is simply not necessary. Tom and Tord could live happily not getting along.

Unbeknownst until now, the tears are back. They haven't spilled but Tom still panics. They'll see, they'll know that Tom's weak, crybaby, weak, useless. He closes his hands in a tight fist, his nails hurting his palms.

Tom's sad, make tears.

He stands abruptly. Edd look up curiously, "Tom?" His eyebrows furrow, "You're not leaving yet."

"U-uh, my nose is bleeding agAin." Fuck. Tom curses in his head. His voice cracked and he sounded like he was on the verge of tears, which he was. He fled to his room again. Can't do it. He reached under the bed and felt the familiar cold neck of a bottle of Tom's favourite drink. Smirnoff.

Tom's been trying. Trying to stop drinking. Really, he has! But it's hard when you live with an abusive communist with anger issues. He pops open the bottle and puts the bottle to his lips, gulping down one fifth the bottle. He sets it down and wipes his teary eyes.

I'm fine, he huffs in his head. I'm f i n e. I'm fINE. He says the words in his head multiple times and ways but that doesn't stop his body from making more tears. Thus, he tries different words.

I'm okay. I'm managing. I'm... I'm fine! But no,

Tom's sad, make tears.

"Tom? Is it bad?" Edd calls through the door. Tom coughs, trying to shake off the lump in his throat; the Smirnoff didn't help that.

"What?" The blood, idiot. "Oh! Uh, maybe. I can deal with it."

"I'll be on the couch when your finished. We aren't done talking." Footsteps recede into the distance and Tom sighs loudly.

Since when was he so weak? He's been able to take many hits and names before and have them just slide right off of him. He had a nice umbrella of "I don't care," what's happened to it? There's a tear. There has to be a tear in the invisible umbrella. Tears can be fixed, he just needs a needle and thread. But where on earth can you find an invisible needle and thread?