Finding

(1) Different

Notes:

Hello, everyone.

This is my second time writing an Eddsworld Fanfic and all the characters written here are fictional and are not in any way connected to real people.

This story is somehow connected to the earlier fic that I made, "Asher's Story," which would be set in an Alternate Universe that would deviate a bit from the Canon Eddsworld-media type. That said, I'm not sure yet on what to name this AU.

Warning: Tord's hair color here won't be following the canon dark blond or brown hair set-up. The difference of hair color would be explained in further chapters.

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He's different.

He had always been different.

He knew that fact from the very day he was able to start having any form of thought.

What's more was that the people around him during those earlier times were even willing enough to rub this truth in front of his face. Not minding. Not caring if the being they were talking to even properly understood what they were saying.

He knew.

He always knew.

He wasn't even supposed to be born anyway.

That's why they never cared.

An abomination.

A monster.

He wasn't a Larsson.

He was a messed-up product conceived after a one night stand his mother had.

Which was why she took him out of her and tried to leave him for death.

Nonetheless, he survived.

He was still able to live without her for a couple of days even with his severely under developed body. Thriving merely on the meager components his body had; decidedly burning itself up to prolong what was to come.

Up until "He" found out and had ordered him to be taken in. Put under observation and made into a test subject.

"As much as he was a mistake, the results from his body could still be taken into consideration," he said.

He was not a Larsson but the findings that they had obtained from him were enough to get the clan both pleased and wary of his existence.

Hence, for a number of years he was trapped.

Confined in a laboratory and experimented on repeatedly.

From his physical capabilities up until his mental capacity; all of him was tested and subjected to numerous trials that to any normal man it would have broken them.

It should have broken him.

And yet...It was what made him who he was.

He never had an identity before.

All he knew was the pain and that he was different, unwanted and unloved.

What was there to break when everything was already the way it was from the very beginning?

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"Sir?"

"Sir???"

"Tord!?'

Snapping out of his thoughts, the ruminating man looked up from the large cylindrical glass that he was looking at and turned to the person addressing him.

"What is it, Thomas?" The silvernette tiredly queried the brunet as he rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"Are you okay?"

His only functional eye widening at the sudden question, the Norwegian was tempted to tease the Brit for caring about him when a sudden cold draft reminded the tired male of the solemnity of their current situation.

He was here.

In this place that served as his prison for the first few years of his life.

Tord then blinked his surprise away and clenched his hand. "I'm fine, Thomas."

"You don't look okay to me," the spiky haired brunet argued as he crossed his arms and pressed him for answers.

"Tho—No, Tom. Tom, please...I don't want to talk about it," the Norski begged as he looked away from the other's prying visor covered eyes.

Expecting the other to be either frustrated or angry, Tord never thought that the Brit would instead pull him into his arms. "Tom, what ar—"

The kiss Thomas gave was so soft and gentle that for some reason the silvernette's brain short circuited. With it, instead of being mad for the surprise that he had gotten, the one-eyed man could only haplessly let his partner have his way with him until the other was fully satisfied.

"Are you okay now?" Tom asked as he pulled away and began peppering light kisses to the other's sensitive neck.

Tord was livid. Incredibly so.

They were here. In the very place he hated so much and yet a single kiss from the bloody Jehovah was enough to render him in compliance.

He was a god damned ruler. A commander of millions.

And yet, a single man was capable of making him squirm and moan just because of...

Stopping the thought, he pushed Thomas away and internally berated himself for being so weak.

He shouldn't be so weak.

He was a monster.

An abomination.

A ruler.

The Norwegian made up his mind and walked away. Leaving the displeased man with the orders of burning everything down.

Burning this whole laboratory down.

After all, no one else had to know.

No one else needed to know.

No one need to that this was the place he was born and he was the missing test subject that had been gone for years.

Not even Thomas.