Shattered To Be Put Together (Tomtord)

Part 3

A nice calm night. Stars shone above his head, crickets buzzed their lullabies and a warm breeze ruffled his hair. No-one except him was outside. And he had to admit, they were stupid for not doing so.
Tord sat on their stair in front of the main entrance. He held his cigar and admired the beautiful view.
A little crack was heard behind him. Then he sat next to him. "Why are you still awake?" Edd asked as he yawned.
"Why are you awake?" Tord raised an eyebrow at him, taking a little drag.
Edd just sighed and leaned on him. "I just finished tucking Tom in." He bumped his head gently with Tord's.
"You know he's almost the same age as you, right?" Tord didn't mind the Brit, he even welcomed it a little. He always made him feel, like he really belonged here, no matter how Matt didn't care about him or Tom's never-ending name calling.
"I know, but I want him to be at least in his bed and not on the floor in front of the fridge."
"You could just through him on his bed and that would be it." Tord put the cigar in his mouth and hugged Edd. "You care too much sometimes."
Edd just smiled and wrapped his hands around the Norwegian. "Maybe." He buried his face in the red hoodie, getting the comfort that he needed. The stink of smoke was not the best, but he didn't mind it.
"Edd?"
"Yea?"
"Thanks, for everything." They both smiled like idiots. As Tord's eyes fixed at the stars again, he could hear a distant call. For a few good minutes he didn't understand, then he recognised his name.
"Tord"
"Tord"
"Tord!"
"TORD"
"Wake up commie!" A slap in his cheek brought him back to reality. Tord widened his eyes, confused as hell. "Finally!"
He rubbed his cheek, while looking around. In front of him stood Tom, this time in his west and blue shirt. "What- where am I?"
"Can you explain, how did you get into the infirmary?" He had crossed arms, one of his feet tapped on the floor.
"U-um... No?" Tord looked around, confused. What was the last thing he remembered? He was in his cell. Someone visited him. Who? Black cloak, green hoodie. EDD. Edd visited him and they broke into the fight, but then, just blank. Nothing at all.
"What do you mean by no? You couldn't get out of there alone, so who helped you?"
"I don't remember. I don't even remember leaving." Tom growled in annoyance. He turned around and watched if any nurse could explain this, but no-one came.
Tord meanwhile wanted to get some of his hair out of his face, but something was wrong. His robotic arm didn't work. When he looked at it, his face went pale. It was gone. At least it was the way it could be get off, but still, where was it? "T-tom? Where's my arm?"
The Brit just turned around to see what was the problem, but with a calm expression, he turned back to the hall. "Tom, where's my arm?!" Tord panicked.
"It's right next to you, idiot." Tord looked from left to right until he noticed a little table next to his bed. There it sat. He immediately grabbed it and started to conect it with his body.
It didn't take him that long. When he was done, he tried to stand up, but Tom's strict face made him sit down again and wait. After all, if he would only try to hurt him or run away, soldiers of this place would stop him in a blink of an eye.
As they waited, Tord got impatient. He looked at the man in blue and smiled. "Do you still have those cigarettes?"
"Yea, but you're not getting it." Tom put his hands in his pockets in pants and waited. He was losing patience as well, but at least he knew where the smoking areas were and this was not one of them.
"Why-"
"Edd!" Tom yelled at his friend to catch his attention. The man in black coat turned around and went to Tom.
"Hey Tom, what's the problem?" his voice was odd. It wasn't smooth as always. Maybe it was because of their incident in the cell. Tord had to admit, he was hiding the bruises pretty well.
"Umm Edd? Are you OK?" Tom noticed it as well, shit.
"Yea, I'm just probably getting sick again." Edd's smile Tord surprised. And most of all, why was he lying?
"Anyway, why is this asshole her-"
"Language!" Edd interrupted him. Tom just sighed and corrected himself to make Edd happy.
"OK, what is Tord doing here?"
Edd looked behind the Brit and checked the Norwegian. "When I went to visit him, I found him unconscious so some soldiers helped me to get him here." Why was he defending him? Why he didn't tell Tom about the fight? "But he looks fine now, so you can lead him to his cell." He gave Tom something that Tord didn't see due to him being behind him. "You can use this."
"No way I'm not gonna walk around with that commie!" Tom protested while pointing at the sitting man.
"If you're not gonna do it, then I'll have to." He walked past his friend and went to their enemy.
"Fine, I will do it." Tom sighed, pushing away Edd. "You need to go get some rest." He mumbled.
Tom took the handcuffs that Edd gave him and put it on Tord's fleshy hand, the other went on Tom's right one. He also blinded the Norwegian with some peace of cloak. "Right, let's get moving, asshole."
Edd frowned at him for swearing again, but Tom didn't care. They headed out. Tord wanted to hold Toms arm to just have at least some kind of indicator where was he facing or going.
"Stairs down." Tom warned him.
"Than-" but before he could finish it, his head hit the ceiling. "Ouch, you could've warned me about that as well."
"I don't have to care about the ceiling like you." Yea, he almost forgot that Tom was shorter. Not a lot, but still.
As they went down, he could feel the air change to cold one. A few more steps and they were there.
Tom got rid off the handcuffs and shoved the leader behind the bars. "You can take it off." He heard him, but did it on his own.
Jup, that was his shitty cell. "So what now?" He turned to the Brit that was putting the cuffs on his belt to not lose it.
"Do what you normally do." When he was done, he took a sip from his flask. It reminded him of the cigarettes so he went closer with a smile.
"Can I get the cig now?"
Tom rose an eyebrow at him. Then he started to shuffle in his pockets. He got out the pack and the lighter. He gave him one and lighted it the same way as they did it before.
Tord leaned on the bars with his shoulder, exhaling cloud of smoke. "Thanks." There was silence for a few good minutes until the Brit took another swing of the Smirnoff in his flask. "Tom?"
"Huh?"
"Why are you drinking anyway?" He turned to him just to see an unamused face.
"Why are you smoking?" Tord just smirked.
"Stress. So?"
"Mind you're own business, commie." He took another sip. Tord just sighed in disappointment and watched his old friend.
"Remember how you said you never tried smoking?"
"Yea?"
Tord sticked his hand through the bars tilted the way so he could take a drag. "Would you try it?"
"Why do you want me to smoke so much?" Tom put his flask back on his belt and crossed his arms.
"Cause I want you to know that it's not so bad." Tord smirked. "Come on, just a little drag."
Tom rolled his eyes and went to take it from him.
"A-a-aaa" Tord moved his index finger from left to right, "hands off" he mimicked Tom's voice, when he touched the polls.
"This is ridiculous, I'm not doing that shit."
"Come on. Don't be such a baby." Tord laughed.
Tom after moment of thinking leaned in and inhaled the smoke. While he was doing so, Tord didn't even realize that he gently stroke the man's stubble. He liked the little feeling of pineneedles. Tom noticed, but he just looked at the other guy confusingly.
Finally he left the hand and breathed out. To Tord's surprise, he didn't even cough. "Nope, alcohol is still better." The man in cell laughed at Tom's calmness and continued smoking.
They talked for a while, enjoying their bad habits. Tom had to leave tho and like that, Tord was left alone again. He sat at his bench, getting the last nicotine out of the cig while thinking about what just happened. He had a normal conversation with Tom first of all and that seemed nice and all, but what was wrong with him. He still could feel the man's short beard on his fingers. Maybe just jealousy. At least he didn't have to shave.
He letted it be and started to go through his memories again, thinking about the times when the four of them lived together. After all, what else was he suppose to do on a place like this then think.
Regardless how hard he tried, he couldn't get the conversation out of his head. He whished that Tom would smoke more often. Not to just share the habit, but he liked the image of it. Maybe it would help him with his aggression as well.
Tord chuckled to himself and layd on his side. He couldn't get it out of his head. 'Tord, just stop.' He thought to himself, but memories of seeing Thomas smoke, drink, how they fell asleep next to eachother... 'Jesus fucking Christ, Tord, you saw him do that for how many year? Now you can't get rid of it? Really? The Red Army is more important then this, so why you have to think about that?' He growled in annoyance and rolled on his back.
'Why can't I stop thinking about it. I saw it thousands of times, so why now?' He examined the filter between his fingers before throwing it away. 'Why Thomas?'