Caught Red Handed

Chapter Seventeen, Hangover Hurl

Tom's Perspective

I awoke to the strangely gentle feeling of a warm and roughly skinned hand slowly massaging my back, with another colder and metallic one doing the same. It was so relaxing, but it was almost immediately drowned out by a skull bashing headache that made me want to commit suicide. I cringed at the severe pain and groaned, feeling the hands pull away from my back. "Hey, take this Advil and some water. You'll feel better soon." A calm voice reassured me, directing my attention to the pill and cup of water held next to my face. I shifted onto my back and slowly sat up, taking the medicine without even bothering to look at who it was. I knew it was Tord after all, who else had a robotic arm? I chugged the water before setting it on the nightstand, now refreshed and in pain still. I tiredly squinted at the Norwegian next to me. "The fuck.. You doing? Feeling me up?" I asked and cleared my throat, which felt like shit.

"I was helping you relax and try to feel better- you fell off the bed earlier on your back." He explained and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Hey- when did you get your arm back-?" I asked and stared at the smooth, red, metal limb. It was shiny and freshly cleaned, and fully repaired. "While you were passed out I got it back. I was tired of feeling disabled." Tord told me and pushed me back down onto the bed. "What.. Time is it..? Is it tomorrow?" I asked and relaxed when my throbbing headache began to subside. "It's only three in the afternoon, Tom." He informed me and helped me take off the soaked sweatshirt from my body. I must have been sweating buckets in my sleep. Tord laid down next to me and turned on the television on a low volume for me. This is nice, best hangover treatment I've ever gotten, which surprises me since it's coming from Tord. "Oh, here. This'll help you with your hangover, and feed you a lunch." He said before giving me a plate of what seemed like breakfast foods. Foods for a hangover I guess.

The pickle slices confused me, did they help with a hangover? The logic of things didn't matter much to me as I ate the delicious food. I enjoyed being spoiled unconditionally, even if it was at the price of a hangover. When I had finished, i set the dirty dish on the red nightstand and laid back. "How are you feeling now?" Tord asked and looked over at me. I stared back at his red eyes and thought about a good answer. Well, my head ache is calming down and I've been fed and hydrated. I also have a mental health day off of my new job, which is nice. "I'm alright.." I responded simply and stared at the Norski. He looks tired. ".. How are you feeling?" I asked and rubbed my sleepy eyes. I didn't really care how he felt, but it was worth asking. He did get shot a whole lot, and he was really tense and stressed. Tord gave a deep sigh in response. "Well.. Yeah, I'm alright. I wish I could talk to Patryk though." He admitted and looked at me. I stared back and noticed that he was smiling at me. What a weird guy.

"Thanks for being my friend, Tom." He said with a grin. He looked like a happy golden retriever, which is an expression Edd usually pulls off. He must be really happy. "I'm not your friend-." I corrected, which made him think for a moment. "Well, thanks for listening to me regardless." He said and got up off of the bed, making the bed lighter. He began filing through the closet as I came up with a comeback. "Do I really have a choice?" I asked and crossed my arms. "Well, you could be hiding in the corner and screaming to go back to your apartment right now. But you're not. You're in my bed, being fed by me, and being cared for by me. You're the luckiest person on this planet right now." He remarked as he took out a few items of clothing from his closet. As I considered the truth in what he had said, it became more apparent to me that he was right in some sense.

Other people would kill to be laying in bed with another person who smiles at them. Someone who's feeding them, clothing them, giving them a position, and keeps them company. To me, it wasn't the worst thing in the world. I could be back in that freezing dungeon, rotting away. Instead, I'm living a dream that many people would love to have. It made me silent. What could I say, after all? I would be grateful if I didn't hate the Norwegian. Tord came back over and made me sit up, holding out some clothing options for the remainder of the day. "Can't I keep my shirt off? It's not like we're going out in public." I asked and pulled up the warm blanket onto my body more. "Oh.. Yeah, you're right. My bad." He apologized, about to go put back the clothing. I wanted to stop him, something was in my mind. Something was stirring and wanted to come out, but it was impossible to say. In a moment of panic, I set my hand on his shoulder and stared at him.