Chained In Servility

9

TWs: Mention of weapons, minor cutting (not purposefully), Tord casually ignoring that he's bleeding, almost having a panic attack, and reminiscing.

It was a few days later. Tord was packing up essential items he'll need into his bags. They were planning to escape in a week, so they had to do everything meticulously and cautiously to not induce any suspicions.

Clay was saddened by the news of them leaving. Evidently, he's been teaching himself Norwegian so he can 'join the fun,' as he puts it. Sometimes the kid helps Tord with the stuff needed for the mission, such as supplying them with more ammo and weapons just in case. They were pleasantly surprised that the kid managed to smuggle some guns to Tord's room.

Tord stopped as he was packing, realizing he stuffed the things he needed in his bag. He glanced around the room once more, the place still a mess from when he tore it apart.

He decided to check in his closet once more, pulling open the door and shifting through it. There was nothing to note, but as Tord nearly shut the door, a box came tumbling down from the closet shelf. The leader stopped to look at it, then bent down to pick it up. He walked over to his workbench and set the box down.

It was a regular cardboard box with a few sharpie marks on it. It looked worn out, almost as if it's been in Tord's closet for a while. Tord opened it, blindly grabbing what was inside.

Then he recoiled as something pierced his thumb. He looked at what jabbed him, seeing a small piece of glass stuck in his thumb. He watched as a red liquid slowly seeped out from behind the small fragment.

Tord carefully removed it with his robot arm. He placed the little piece of glass on his workbench. Ignoring the blood on his thumb, he opted to see what was in the box.

He froze as he witnessed what was inside. He felt his weight shift forward, barely catching himself on his table.

Before he knew what was happening, he was gasping for air as he felt hot streams of tears running down one side of his face.

Memories. So many painful memories.

Tom and him tormenting each other.

Matt and him having deep conversations.

Edd and him going on adventures together.

The weight on his shoulders felt unbearable like he would collapse at any time. He tasted blood in his mouth, noticing he was biting his lip severely.

The leader tried to calm his breathing, failing as he coughed, making him hyperventilate a bit. He attempted again, slowly inhaling and exhaling, hiccuping a few times.

Tord wiped off his cheek, looking into the box again. He didn't think he would see these photos again. He thought he told Pau or Pat to get rid of them nearly nine years ago.

His eye widened in realization. It's been almost nine years since he moved out of Edd's house. Well, not like there was much left of it anyway.

Man, he was a terrible friend. He knew how much loyalty meant to Edd, yet he had to break his trust as if he could help it back then. He used to be hungry for any sort of power and control he could get his hands on, not caring who he hurt in the process.

He was merely following orders, not that it was an excuse for blowing up their home. Or a justification to leave them with nothing.

He looked in the box again once he knew he was calmer. Most of the photographs he kept were of him with either Matt or Edd. He didn't take pictures with Tom unless it was going to be all four of them together, and still, Tord was hesitant to do it.

Tord pulled out the top one, seeing that it was the one he cut his thumb on. The photo was in a frame, but it must have shattered when the box hit the ground. Glimpsing at the photographs again, most of the frames had cracked on impact.

The leader looked at the picture in his hand, smiling a bit. It was of him and Matt. The ginger gave him a full-on make-over. The taller dyed his hair darker and gave him black nail polish, much to Tord's hesitance at first. He also managed to cover his red eye with a silver-colored contact. Well, it was Tord's idea for the make-over in the first place. There was some word about Red Army activity in England, so Tord was paranoid about anyone figuring out he was the son of the General; hence him asking Matt to give him an 'edgy' make-over. Matt was ecstatic to do it.

Of course, the picture was them with the hair dye everywhere except Tord's hair. They were laughing about it, though. They did have another go at it the next day, actually getting it right that time.

Tord placed the picture down next to the box, picking up the next one. One by one, he revisited so many memories he had forgotten about. He wanted to cry, but he also felt like he couldn't. His eye was glossed over, but no tears came.

Once it came to the last photo, however, he would never admit to himself that a few tears did escape.

Edd and him. Together.

The taller was giving him a side hug as they both smiled at each other. Edd was holding a cola in his right hand.

Tord tried to recall where the photo was taken. That's when he noticed the familiar yellow walls, and boxes in the background.

This is when they moved into the house; just them. The other two didn't move in until later.

Tord could barely smile at the picture without it looking shaky. He soon gave up and placed it back in the box, then took the other images and put them back.

He didn't know whether or not to take the photographs with him. They weren't essential to him; at least, they weren't important to him back then. He contemplated his choices momentarily, then sighed.

A few photographs to take with him wouldn't hurt, right?

There was a knock on his door, startling Tord out of his thoughts. He looked behind him slightly, "Come in."

The door opened, revealing Pat with slightly tired eyes. He closed the door softly, blinking once he saw the box on Tord's workbench, "What's that?"

"Old photos." Tord didn't explain further as Pat walked up to examine them.

"Huh..." Pat sifted through them, "I thought you got rid of these."

"Actually, I thought I told one of you to get rid of them." Tord sassed.

"You must've told Pau to get rid of these, cause I don't remember such a command." Pat shrugged.

"Of course it was Pau..." Tord sighed.

"He doesn't follow orders well."

Then there was another knock on the door, prompting Tord to call again, "Come in."

This time it was Pau who entered, "Sorry I'm late, had to do something for You."

"It's fine," Tord muttered, barely glancing at him.

That's when Pau stopped in his steps, noticing the box on the workbench, "What's that?"

"You should know what's in this box, Pau. I literally ordered you to get rid of it nine years ago." Tord crossed his arms.

"Ah, it's that box..." Pau droned.

"Why didn't you get rid of it?" Pat asked.

Pau shrugged, "Guess I was busy at the time. Didn't know where to put it, so I stuffed it in Tord's closet."

Pat and Tord hummed in response. Tord looked at the box of pictures.

"I should take a couple with me." He spoke. What he said stunned Pat and Pau.

"Are you sure?" Pat questioned, wide-eyed for once.

Tord nodded, "Yeah, what's the worst that could happen?"

Pat and Pau glanced at each other, having a conversation with their eyes. Pau gave him a look that said, 'why not?' so Pat reluctantly agreed.

"Fine, you can take some." Pat settled.

Tord chuckled, "I mean, I was gonna take some anyway, whether or not you agreed."

Pat rolled his eyes, "Of course..."