Complete Again (TomTord Mpreg)

Thirteen

It's dark....

Cold.

Where the hell was he?

His body shivered from the terror and the chill of the room, gripping the armrests with bound and trembling hands. The constant breeze from the air conditioner or fan nearby... wherever he was, told him that they had stripped him of his clothes and shoes while he was unconscious, spare for his slacks, leaving his body to feel the brunt of the harsh winter chill. The cloth covering his eyes was tied far too tight, forcing his eyes shut and entertaining the idea of a searing headache.

The door opened behind him, and his body tensed.

He felt like an idiot for shivering this pitifully, but he couldn't help it. His heart was pounding out of his chest as the footsteps only came closer. How large was this room? Why did they take him? Where was he?

"Good morning. Doesn't that cold just wake you right the fuck up?" The person behind him finally spoke, their voice undeniably male, and he could hear the smile on the man's face. "We turned on the air just for you, my friend. It's winter, sure, but pity the fool who leaves his guests hot and uncomfortable!" A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he flinched at the temperature. Hot. Searing his frozen skin. The mood of the person behind him shifted immediately, and he dug his stumpy nails into the meat of his shoulder. "Listen to me carefully. You're going to tell us everything you know, or you're not leaving today in one piece, capiche?"

He nodded quickly, only encouraging another headache to form. When he stopped, he felt the hand on his shoulder leave. Three steps. Fingers hooked onto the fabric, tugging it down and letting him finally see his captor.

Fuck, fuck...fuck.

Beside him was an old end table and a tray, covered in bottles and sharp looking objects. The captor grabbed him by the jaw, forcing him to look at his face instead.

"Wonderful. See how easy we can get along?"

Turns out, talking to Eduardo had more benefits than Tord originally thought.

He was shocked that Eduardo even picked up the first time - part of him convinced himself that Eduardo had followed through with his original plan, and that he would get sent straight to the voicemail. But Eduardo picked up, and his voice was laughably nervous.

For starters, they had a lot in common - they both watched the same shows, laughed at the same type of jokes, and they both had very similar problems. They were both terrified of their own realities, but having someone to confide in made it far easier to cope.

"You're on the phone with him again?" Tom asked with a small laugh. Their latest call was at 3 am because Eduardo had some divine revelation about the fryers at his work. "You're making me jealous, baby...come back to bed."

Tord remembered closing that call off with some advice and a good laugh or two.

Their advice to each other was horrible, sure - they weren't therapists, but they were enough. Their first call was nothing but jokes, trying to ease into the idea of forgiveness.

It took time, but Tord learned that he liked having Eduardo around. He was a connection to the outside world, something that let Tord know that there was still life outside of the apartments. Life that he was starting to miss, but what the hell could he do?

He wasn't exactly ready to appear outside. He finally passed the seven month mark in the pregnancy, a feat that was embarrassingly over celebrated by his friends. Now at seven and a half months, 34 weeks, he knew it would be much harder to look normal in a crowd. Not to mention what happened last time.