Love to Hate you

Part 4

"Oh come on Tom. Can't you give me one last chance? No?" Tords accent kicks in. 

"Like I'll just trust you after you come out of nowhere from what you did and think that I'll trust you. I'm not as easy going as Matt and Edd were and you know it. You can't just trust someone that easily. Especially after what you did!" Tom snarls. Anger consuming any control he had. "Betrayers never change Tord! I never liked you because I knew you were plotting something. And then you confirmed it by trying to conquer the world with your stupid robot!" Tom argues.
"You tried to kill me and you hurt Matt and Edd. There is no forgiving you for that!" His blood boiling at the thought or Tord's betrayal. Forcing himself to get up, instantly being swung back to the bed by a wave of nausea as he tries to stand.

"That's my stupid silly Tom. Tom, I'm your old friend, remember the good times we had?"

"I'm not your friend Tord! I'll never be your friend either you Commie!" Tom yells, finishing his outburst. "There were no good times. Not since you joined the Red Army" Tom narrows his eyes. Hating even saying the name of the Army. The call went dead silent. Giving Tom enough time to calm down and think about last night.

"Tord?!" Tom hears a yell through the phone and the wall. Tom runs from his apartment to Edds. Tom is relieved to throw the door open and see Edds and Matt are okay. But their expressions were both bewildered and shocked at seeing Tord, as if he'd come back from the dead.

"What are you doing here Tord? You're not welcome here." Tom snarls. Tom growling again with a groan as he clenches his hands in fists. Sucking in a pained gasp. He looks at his hands, seeing dry blood and trickles of new blood drops sparkling in the unnatural lamp light.

"My old friends hahaha... Why can't you just give me another chance?" Tord asks in an awkward laugh of a tone.

"Oh I don't know, maybe because you betrayed us all twice, blew up our house, went to conquer the world but failed and left us to find our own way to somehow live." Edd explains nastily. Surprising everyone in the room, Edd wasn't usually the one to get mad.

"Okay that's fair, I deserve that... I'm sorry that you think that way guys-" Tom punches Tord in the jaw, shutting him up. His own head throbbing and pulsing with pain. Tom glares up at Tord, his body full of fury and anger making his body feel as if it was on fire.
Swinging his arm back again, ready to send another punch. Burping as his bodily indication that he wants to puke. But he swallows his rising vomit. Opening his black eyes to change his expression to full anger as he send the punch into Tords chest, winding him.

"Edd, Matt, want to join in?"

"No they may not join in" Tord wheezes as he holds his aching winded lungs. Neither Matt or Edd protest. They stride forward, betrayal of Tord changing their minds to not care.

"You used us Tord, we aren't your friends. As you'd said who needs friends?" Edd chuckles evilly.
"You won't use us again, Tord!" Edd yells as he hits Tord in his rib cage. Tord groans and winces hard against the aches filling his body. But he knew he deserved everything they're doing to him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry for what I did to you all! It wasn't okay and I can't make up for it and there's nothing I can do to change your minds to trust me" Tord yells tearfully in one breath. He opens his eyes finding they'd stopped. Frozen in shock with wide eyes at him.
"Look, I came back to apologize, to attempt to make everything right" Tord encouraged. Softening his expression as his tears cracked his voice. Falling down his undamaged cheek. The other eye covered with bloodied bandages that darkened with the area of his eye that would also be crying. Tom rolled his eyes. Tord knew he wouldn't be able to make Tom trust him, it would be mission impossible and take a miracle to persuade him to. But he had to get Tom and himself alone for long enough to talk about it, to settle their differences. Even if it didn't work, he had to at least try.

"Try anything to hurt any of us, and I'll end you" Tom snarled at Tord and glared at him before storming out of the apartment.

---Toms apartment---
His. draws drag out as he pulls the handles to collect each piece of needed clothing. He gets changed out of his clothes into a fresh pair of clothes. Stopping for a moment, taking in a pained breath as he tries to pull his blue jacket sleeve over his bloodied hands. He shook his head and yanked his sleeve down like ripping a bandaid off. But he knows its only a temporary fix. He slips a belt though his black Jeans and stashes a loaded gun into a satchel that was hidden beneath his jersey. He sighs, walking out the bedroom door into the bathroom of his rather small apartment after Tord had blown up their old place. He turns the sink tap on with a squeak in protest on the taps behalf, the warm water gushing out gradually heating up as he scoops his hands under the water and begins washing the blood off his hands as best he could. The blood seemingly stained into his skin which made him wince knowing someone will notice if he's not careful. He looks back up into the mirror, maybe today he could be different, maybe today he could do something different... But no matter how many times he'd say it to himself, it never changes.

He walks the very short distance into the kitchen, the windowless apartment rather dark apart from the light creeping under the door from the hallway. The hum of the fridge greeting him. Not bothering to turn on the lights, he opens the fridge. An even colder breeze than the already cold air in the apartment blowing out against his body causing him to shiver harder.
"I hate this cold place" Tom mumbles under his breath as he squints his eyes at the white light filling the darkness of the room, the white light emitting from the fridge. "Stupid Commie destroyed our good place where we made so many memories" Tom mumbled as he glared into the fridge, his shoulders sloping at the scarce amount of food displayed in the fridge. But plenty of Liquor and Smirnoff in the fridge door racks. He gives an annoyed look accompanied by an equally as annoyed groan before grabbing the butter out of the fridge, placing it on the bench and shutting the fridge. Moving to check in every cupboard for bread. Managing to find a loaf of bread for toast.
"I really should stop drinking and just get food instead." Tom talks to himself. He slides his hand in the clingy plastic bag around the bread, pulling two pieces put and popping them in the toaster. Then moving to the cutlery draw, his hand shivers and stings as his hand wraps around the cold, solid metal of the knife to butter the toast. Placing it on the bench next to the butter to grab a plate.
Suddenly the sound of movement catches Toms attention. Tom looks up from the plate cupboard, movement accompanied the sound slightly startling him.