Get Well Cards (Tomtord) (Left for dead au)

Chapter 5; What to do, what to do...

After an awkward while of standing aimlessly by Tom's bedroom, Tord went back to the couch. Sitting down in defeat as he had no idea how to help, or if he should.
He curled up in the couch corner, feeling the soft black material of his pullover against his pale, wounded skin. Nuzzling into it, warm and a feeling of safety.
All crushed when he heard a distant door open, and close. Gently however, not like the slamming rage hours before. Then soft footsteps, approached, but turned away from a seemingly asleep Tord at the last second, heading to the kitchen, grabbing something from the fridge, and then walking back to his room.
This continued for hours, multiple trips back and forth from the fridge, the night growing late and the room now dark like an abyss. All while Tord was still stuck in his thoughts. On the verge of sleep, but not quite falling off the cliff of consciousness.
Tord's eyes dropped with weights hanging from his eyelids, his brain caught up in jumbles of thoughts. The good, the bad, and the hypothetical. He was totally carried away, barely noticed the hour. As the green clock on the oven shifted to 3am.
He sat up, ignorant of his obvious bed hair and messy clothes, in need of Night wear. Jeans weren't the comfiest of pajamas.
    Staggering the dark halls, Tord maneuvered the housing unit. Well- tried at least. Tripping over his feet the floor was quick to meet the rest of his body. Falling brutally on his arm, unknowingly calling out.
    "AH- GAh... Hhh..." his yell pierced the silence as a hot knife on butter. Searing and squirming he sat on the ground- a shooting pain shuddering through his body, his vision white and his head a scramble of hell.
    A door was thrown open and a body kneeled to his side, there was a voice but it only came in a hum. A body, but only the warmth. A presence, but only the feeling of his jacket. The arms folding around his back, cradling him.

    Tom, flipping through pictures on his phone, drunkly, jumped at the sound of a scream. A gut wrenching scream, straight from his hallway. He ripped the door open to see Tord squirming on the ground, his face scrunched and overcast.
The hallway was dark, but Tom managed to grab the man and cradle him, asking him continuously if he was okay. All the while Tom hoped Edd hadn't heard anything, even though the walls were paper thin... was Edd a light sleeper? He couldn't remember. But hoped not.
The Norwegian squirmed against his body, restless. His breathing hard and rugged. Tom couldn't help but jump when a knock was heard at his door, 'oh god'.
    He heard Edd from the other side, his voice concerning and worried. "Tom? Tom are you okay? I heard a scream...?" Tom gently put a finger to his lips trying to hush Tord's struggle.
    "Y-yeah Edd I'm fine.. I just uh-" he rapidly searched for an explanation, "...broke a glass... and stepped on it." Yeah that sounded like Tom.
    "Oh! Jeez Tom are you alright, do you need me to come in?" He couldn't find Tord, "NO! I- I mean no thanks, it's just really gross and bloody. And there's glass everywhere..."
    "If you say so... it's weird," Tom could hear Edd lean against the door in defeat. "I... I thought I heard Tord for a minute. Sounded just like him." Edd let out a pitiful chuckle, obviously trying to hide the fact he missed the Norwegian.
    "Haha... that's... weird. What are you doing up anyway? It's like 3am." Edd stopped a moment, "Movie binge with Matt. Well Tom, I'll see you in the morning, please take care of yourself." Tom just sighed in relief as he left, wishing he could comfort Edd but had much more pressing matters at hand.
    "Oh my god that hurt like a motherfucker..." Tord groaned, whining a little as he attempted to move his arm. "Chill out commie... you're sleeping in my room so I can make sure you don't do anything  stupid. That was a close call." The brit sighed. Helping Tord up of the chilly ground.
    Tord just sighed in defeat, walking into the brits room. He kneeled down to lay on the ground, "What are you doing? You're injured in not gonna let you sleep on the floor." He motioned to his bed.
    Swallowing hard and feeling like an idiot, the norski got up and slid into the bed, being greeted with warm covers. Tom just dragged the covers over him, stopping when he was done to look at him. Eyes meeting.
    "Are you okay?" The Norwegian shoved away the pounding in his chest as they stared at each other. An unexplained feeling rushing between the two like flood water. Tom, blamed his drinking, even though he knew deep in his mind he's been sober for a few hours now.
    "I... um... yeah." Tord stuttered, shifting his eyes to the side, yet still felt Tom's black eyes burn into him with a mediocre heat. He just left after that, returning with a blanket and a couch pillow, throwing it on the hard carpet.
    "Goodnight commie." He said, breaking the silence after he'd made his bed, throwing the blanket over himself and embracing the night.
    "Goodnight Jehovah." Tord croaked, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts were plastered with questions and desire, but mostly flashbacks.
    The ceiling faded away as it was replaced with long halls of lockers, a bell ringing and a tide of students walking the halls.
    A young Tord, about 16, shuffled through books in his locker, checking to make sure he'd grabbed the rights ones. "Hey Tord!" A voice shouted, it was Tom, slightly older but still quite lanky and young.
    He wore a black band t-shirt and black jeans, complimented by his classic checkered shoes.
    'Hah, those were the days..' Tord thought, back when Tom and him were closer than ever. Come to think of it, high school was probably the only time Tom tolerated the Norski's existence.
    "Oh hey Tom, how was physics?" A look of friendly betrayal came over the brit's face, "Oh god, don't even get me started on that class. Do you have any idea how much homework I have to do?!" Tord shrugged, his black hoodie baggy at his thin figure, "You are the one who thought taking AP would be easy. Changed your mind?"
    Tom scoffed, "Shut up." The Norwegian chuckled, throwing a playful punch at Tom's arm. Tom smiled, showing his braces. He leaned against the locker as Tord continued to gather his things, "Ugh, I don't want to go to math." Tom agreed, waving excitedly at Edd and Matt, both of which smiling kindly and waving back.
    "You guys ready for next period?" Edd asked, math being the only class all four friends had together. "Not even the slightest I-" Matt was cut off by the bell ringing. Causing all four to groan in agony.
    These days Edd still wore his green hoodie, although it was a darker shade. Matt on the other hand, constantly wore his varsity jacket, protecting himself from the cold air outside.
    They grouped together as they sat down in class, awaiting the lesson.
    The whiteboard soon drifted away as snoring broke the pleasant daydream. Tord looked to his side, seeing the Brit curled up in his hoodie, seems like both of them preferred to sleep in their cloths from the day before.
    He snored lightly and Tord found an odd comfort in it, drifting off himself.

    Edd sat on his couch, eyes staring at at the television, not really paying attention to it. Matt didn't quite notice his discontent, which Edd thanked. The scream from earlier... it sounded just like Tord... maybe he was staying up to late, or maybe he just confused Tord for Tom. But it didn't stop him from thinking about the Norwegian.
    He missed him truth be told, sure Edd was angry... but he missed Tord. He was friends with him since before Matt and Tom came around, and they were best friends. And now, Tord was dead, killed in an explosion caused by a harpoon. He thought about how Tom shot the harpoon. Tom, the man who deeply loved the Norwegian for all of high school and up to the point Tord left for the big city. Edd swore he wouldn't tell anyone... but he thought about it constantly. Surely Tom still had some sort of feelings towards him as he shot the harpoon gun... right?
    Maybe not, but just thinking about their high school lives made him really question Tom's hatred. He salvaged a memory he'd always oddly treasured, back when Edd lived with his parents but happened to be out that night.

    Tom was now sitting on the couch at Edd's. His shoes off and his knees to the chest of his band shirt. Edd emerged from the kitchen with two cups of hot chocolate. Handing one to Tom, who quietly cried into his knees. "So you guys fought again?" Tom only nodded, cradling the mug for its warmth. "How bad was it?" Only earning a louder yet choked sob from the small man. "Oh... sorry." He reached over and put an arm around his shoulders, leading Tom to lean into him.
    "I t-tried to ex-explain he just... h-he just walked aw-ay. An-and I-" Edd could tell he wanted to talk about it, but now wasn't the time. "Shh, shh, I know. It's okay Tom. I'm sure he was just frustrated. You know how he is with school." Tom only nodded, sipping from his hot cup.
    Edd continued to comfort his friend to the best of his abilities, the night growing long for a Friday evening. Tom and Tord rarely fought, but when they did it wasn't good. However the two always managed to find each other again, apologies and all.
   
    Matt broke the flashback, yawning loudly, "Well Edd, "We've successfully stayed up until 4am watching movies. Now, I need to go get my beauty sleep! This gorgeous face isn't going to pamper itself." He spoke, getting up and facing the cola boy. Noticing his state, "Hey, if this is about Tom, I'm sure he's fine. He breaks things all the time, it's what he does best." He smirked. "Yeah.. I guess you're right. Well goodnight then." The two exchanged goodbyes as Matt left, leaving Edd to shrug off the odd feeling from before and head to bed.