A Guide To Medicine and War

Seven

"Sooooo?" Purpled begins, and Tommy forces back a sigh. "What did you steal this time, Red?"

Tommy just looks at him, relaxing in the way that though Purpled looks like shit, he's okay. Both of them are sitting against the cliff, Sam sleeping nearby. Purpled's hair is streaked with a dark red, one of his eyes is black, and his entire uniform is muddy. Tommy has slashes from various explosions on his face, his uniform splotchy with blood stains.

The two of them look a little rough.

"What, from yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"Ummmm. I got a wallet with the name Jack Manifold in it, some very stupid glasses, random bits of ammunition, and some food. I dropped most of the rest though."

"You should give the glasses to George."

"No," Tommy replies with a smile. The last time they gave George glasses, they claimed that they would cure his color blindness. They made him completely blind, instead.

Purpled smiles, and they are thrown back into silence.

The day before was rough, to say the least. It was fine, really, up until the shooting started. That's normal, for war at least. They did manage to win up until the river, and have had some semblance of peace for the past eight hours.

That peace is almost definitely due to Purpled's short term villain arc, as well as the two of them having control over a situation they shouldn't have, and access to a leader.

Either way, they had peace.

(That peace came after nearly one hundred people lost a life, and thirteen people lost their last.

They don't dwell on that.)

During Purpled's baby villain era, some slightly concerning things were discovered. One of them being that Purpled is scary as fuck, even with neon purple guns.

The (lesser) important thing is the fact that apparently Tommy is being adopted?

Purpled, who brought it up very quickly, said that was probably the most concerning thing about the Syndicate.

"Purpled?"

"What's up, Tom?"

"Why do you think the Syndicate wants me so badly?" Tommy asks, the nervousness apparent in his shaky voice.

"Not because you're a feral raccoon, I can bet that much," Purpled replies, grinning as he maneuvers himself to curl into Tommy.

"Purpled," Tommy groans, annoyed at the sarcastic answer, though not angry. He threads his fingers through Purpled's hair, slowly unknotting it and taking dirt clumps out. Purpled lays there as Tommy gently scratches his scalp, clearly thinking about how to word his answer.

Usually, he would just say it, without any thought. It's what caused them to be friends in the first place, the undeniable urge to just talk, even if it wasn't much. That, and their ability to accidentally insult people.

"Toms, why wouldn't they want you? You're...fuck, Tommy, you're everything, okay? You're the sun on a winter's day, the light that everyone looks forward to seeing. And you're the stars in the dark night, the beauty in even the coldest times. Tommy, you are, without a doubt, the best person I've met! We're in a literal war right now, and you've made it your mission to save everyone! Who does that? You care, so much! And you never fail to make people laugh, or cause chaos, or just...be you. Tommy, you're my best friend, of course they'd want you!"

"But..." he starts, his voice breaking off towards the end. Purpled grabs his hand, holding it close and playing with his fingers, as gently as possible.