Shattered To Be Put Together (Tomtord)

Part 1

Darkness. That was all that surrounded him. He couldn't see anything, feel anything except the cold metal bench he was sitting on. The only sound that echoed in his cell has him... breathing.
  It's been a few days or weeks, he could not tell clearly. Since the little talk with Tom, he got a little cell that was just four walls, wooden table with chains that held him on one place. From time to time a nurse called Lucy took care of him. Treated his wounds, gave him some painkillers, water, food, she even wanted to have normal conversations with him. But when he healed up, he got a new cell. The one that he was in right now.
  It was nothing special. It was 3x3 m big, so it wasn't so bad. The room had no windows, only bars instead of a wall. Thanks to that, he could see what was happening in the hallway that led to him. Mostly only two guards stood on each side and talked to eachother. Tord liked one actually. He was layd back soldier that always smoked on the shift. He even gave him some drags from the cigarette, which helped him a little with stress.
  The guards weren't the only ones that visited him tho. Sometimes, when the food was brought to him, Matt came to have a friendly chat. Even tho Matt was not happy how everything turned out, he still tried to be friends with him. Foolish, isn't it?
  From time to time, even Tom visited him. He, on the other hand, never said anything. He always sent the guards away, went on one's position and just... stayed. No words, he never even looked at Tord. That made the horned man uneasy. He never knew what to expect from  him.
  Today, no guards came. That was also why the lights weren't on. He just sat in his one legged pants and waited.
  Thanks to Tom, almost all of his cloaths had to be removed to get out the bullets. They fortunately didn't want him to walk around in underwear, so they left him his pants at least. But it still didn't help that much against the biting chill that ruled over the cell.
  He didn't feel his fingers for a few days. Shaking became normal also with painful breathing that the cold air gave him.
  Suddenly, a metal wail echoed in the hallway. The lights turned on. Tord stood up and slowly went to the bars, curious. When he laid his hands on the polls, a commanding voice rang out. "Hands off!" It was familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
  A few seconds later a man in blue and black came. It was Thomas. Funny how he almost forgot the Brit's voice.
  Tord smiled and greated him with his 'hello, old friend.' He knew he hated that, but he could do nothing to him. Just like Tord could do nothing to that alcoholic.
  Tom just took a sip from his flask and stopped in front of him. That was... Unusual. He always stayed by the wall next to the bars, so he didn't have to worry about the Leader.
  "Not like I want to tell you how to do your job or anything, but where are the guards?" Tord said with a smirk. He totally ment that Tom could not do his job properly.
  "They have other shit to do then hang out with you down here, commie." He took another sip.
  Tord laughed at Tom's calmness. Maybe he could somehow take down the witness, snatch the keys from him and try to escape. But while rethinking, he noticed, that he stood too far from Tord's reach.
  "By the way," Tom broke the silence that ruled between them. "I heard that you and Barry are getting along." So Barry was the guard's name.
  Tom shuffled in his pocket for a bit until he got out a pack of cigarettes. Tord's heart stopped. Because Barry didn't come today, he didn't have a chance to get his precious nicotine.
  The man in a vest opened it. He seemed a little disgusted, like if a dead rat was in it. "They said thanks to this." He pushed one up with his thumb. "I still don't get how can you smoke. It's disgusting."
  Tord lightly smirked. "Well, you have alcohol, I got this." He watched the cigs like a predator watches it's prey. After another few minutes of silence, Tom did something that surprised him. He gave him one.
  Tord of course accepted, but when he put it in his mouth, he looked at Tom. "Lighter?” he held out his hand, prepared to light the god damn cigarette.
  "Prisoners can't have any weapons, including lighters." Tord growled.
  "Then how am I suppose to light it up genius?" He grabbed the polls with frustration.
  "I said hands off, commie." When Tord with another groan listened and backed away, Tom's voice rang out again. "Come here." He instructed him while pointing at the ground with his index finger.
  Tord hated to do this, but whatever. He went to the bars and rested his head between the bars. Tom shuffled in a different pocket this time and got out a silver lighter. He opened it with swing of a thumb and lighted Tord's cig.
  Finally, he could get what his body longed for. He inhaled the hot smoke, feeling already a little bit better. He sent it to Tom's face in a little cloud. 
  The man in blue immediately started to wave it away from him. "Stop it, fucker." Tord couldn't hold his laugher in. It was too funny to see him cough because of something like this. "You know I hate it."
  "Yea, I know." The horned man smirked. He took anothet drag, this time, exhaling it somewhere else. "Did you ever try it?"
  Tom looked back at the man behind the bars. "What?" He put the lighter and the pack back in his pockets.
  "Smoking." He just realized that half of it was already gone. 'Fuck'
  "No." His green digital eyes rolled.
  "And would you like to?" He got it out of his mouth and held it close to Tom.
  "No way, commie, that's gay as fuck." He sticked out his middle finger at him and went away. "I have more important shit to do anyway, have fun down here." Were the last words before the door shut behind the man in blue.
  Tord waited for a while in case the Brit would come back, but he didn't. The Leader left his bars and went to sit in the corner, on his bench that was suppose to be his bed. The chill bit at his bones, but he didn't care.
  As he exhaled the cloud, it reminded him of Pau and Pat. He wondered how were they doing. Before he left the base, he put those two in command of his absence. It wasn't for the first time they were suppose to take care of it, but still. Deep inside he was hoping that it wasn't on fire.
  Did they miss him? Did they even know that he was imprisoned? Were they looking for him? With those thoughts, his cigarette burned out. He threw the filter under the metal desk he was on and hit a rat. It ran between his feet to the bars and out off his cell.
  Tord sighed. The never-ending silence gave him headache. He never felt so alone. Even surrounded by enemies was better then this.
  He layd down, hitting his head by a mistake. 'Faen' He put his hands on his stomach, trying to relax. When his robotic arm touched his belly, the man yelped in surprise. It was so cold. Later on, he didn't care about the freezing feeling in his guts. He closed his eye and tryed to fall asleep, successfully.