A Test of Time (TomTord)

-Seven-

As yet another explosion sent debris flying through the air, another gun fired its round of bullets,  Tom darted into the shadows of one of the several alleyways leading off the street he had been running on. He leaned against the wall, trying to steady his breathing. This type of life had been routine for months now, almost a year. All because of that stupid commie.

But here he was, once again running and fighting for his damn life. Actually, knowing that Norwegian bastard, he wouldn't be killed. Tord wasn't that nice, especially not to him. And if he ever had those moments where he thought of the time where Tord was actually a caring person, he would force the thoughts to some dark corner of his mind. He couldn't stand to think of the boy he used to love. He wasn't Tord anymore. He was Red Leader. But by the same token, Tom was different. Kinda. He really had decided to mask his emotions, but even beyond that, in order to escape them swirling around his head, he drowned them away in Smirnoff. He had done it when Tord was there, and it had only gotten worse after he was gone. 

Even now, his craving for the vodka was beginning to surface again, as was a steady pounding in his head. He had been getting constant headaches for a while now, but they would come and go at random, and he never knew why. But the one thing he wished wasn't happening along with all of this was the fact that sometimes he would nearly black out. And unfortunately now felt like one of those times.

————

This specific mission wasn't quite like any of the other times Tord had tried this. Before... maybe he really had been trying to kill them. But something had been bothering him recently. He had what he wanted, he could own the whole world if he pleased. But something was missing. And he was just now realizing, it didn't matter what anyone said, he could make it happen. He had the supplies. He had the power. He could do whatever he wanted. And there was a specific someone that he wanted now, whether or not they agreed with him on it.

He can't run forever.

————

Why was he so persistent this time? Tord must really want to kill him now. Tom glanced around, looking for somewhere else he could go to hide. Hell, maybe he'd even go find Edd, wherever the cola loving brunette was now. And that was saying something, considering Edd was probably half insane ever since cola had been outlawed. Then again, the devil horned commie who was currently hunting his ass down was probably at least 12 times as mental. 

Now he could hear footsteps pounding on the sidewalk just 100 feet away from him. Damn it. No more time to think, time to run again. But now, his vision was somewhat blurred, the edges of it tinged with blackness. That was new, and probably not a good thing. No time. No time. Just run.

It wasn't dark outside, but Tom could barely see now, and his steps were starting to stumble, his pace faltering.Somehow he was no longer running on the streets of London. Everything around him was dark. All was silent. He heard a familiar voice echo through his head, that  accent he both hated and loved at the same time. 

Then everything was dark.

————

Tord was only about 50 feet behind Tom when the Brit suddenly missed a step, his legs buckling,  falling to the ground. Tord half expected him to get up again and keep running, but he was motionless. Seconds later, he was by Tom's side. Behind him, 6 or 7 soldiers began to cluster up around him. Something in the Norski snapped at that exact moment. He got to his feet again, and without warning, whipped around, now holding a gun in each hand, pointing them at two of his soldier's heads.

"Leave me. Now." His voice was laced with acid, burning into the soldiers, half of which saluted fearfully, then running after the others who had simply run off. Now that he was alone again, he turned back to Tom, clipping his guns back onto his belt. He gently placed two fingers against Tom's neck, feeling for a pulse. It was there, but it was far softer than it should be. And it was clear he was unconscious, too. Tord's face shifted into something that might have resembled concern. His emotions were in a wreck now, seeing him like this. Tom's hair was a mess, sticking up everywhere like usual. Tord ran his fingers through the tips of the boy's hair, it wasn't fluffy like it used to be. He missed getting to do that. The rest of Tom wasn't in much better shape. His clothes were somewhat wrinkled, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He looked so... pitiful....

Tord pulled out his cellphone, dialing one of the top two numbers on his contact list.

"Yes, sir?" 

"Pau, I told you to- you know what, never mind. Get the plane, I'll send you my location. Tell Pat to round the soldiers up. No, I don't care if they found either of them or not. Just get everyone. I got what I came for."

Tord clicked his phone off, slipping it into his pocket. He reached down and picked up the limp body in front of him, cradling Tom bridal style in his arms. 20 or so minutes later, he was safely on the plane, still carrying the Brit.

"Finally got him back, did you?" Pau attempted to joke, keeping his attention mostly on the sky ahead of him," What'd you do to him this time that actually worked?"

"Nothing, actually. He passed out in the middle of running away. Actually, now that I think about it...." Tord replied. He motioned to one of the other soldiers who was sitting near the back of the plane. She raised her head a little when she saw Tord pointing in her direction, self consciously reaching to straighten her uniform, which unlike the other soldiers' red and blue uniforms, her's was mainly white with blue trim.

"Ell? Could you come here, I need you to take a look at something for me." Tord asked, and she nodded, standing up and making her way over to where he sat in his cabin of the plane. She pulled a few tools out of her bag, then began to cautiously examine Tom without having to actually move him from where Tord was holding him in his lap. When she got to his face, her eyes widened. 

"S-sir.... it's in his eyes. That's the problem.... I'd have to do a few more tests to be sure, but it seems like he's somehow developed some kind of cancer in his eyes.... He's most likely permanently blind... from the amount of damage I can just see on the surface. I think we actually have some sort of tech being worked on right now that could actually help with it, but it might be months before that's ready...."

"Will he be okay...?" Tord asked, an unusual hint of sadness in his voice.

"As far as the damage that can be done, for now it's done all it can. Actually it kinda seems like there's something in him that isn't allowing it to spread any more or do anything else... I don't know what though..."

"The experiment....." Tord murmured.

"What was that, sir?" Ell asked.

"Nothing.... nothing... thank you Ell. As long as he's gonna be ok, you're dismissed."

"Thank you, sir."

Tord nodded in response, his mind drifting. He absentmindedly brushed his fingers through Tom's hair again, but almost jerked his hand back when Tom suddenly shifted his position a little bit, almost seeming to be in a little bit of a panic, clinging onto Tord's uniform. Tord gently wrapped his arm around Tom again, making sure he was mostly settled down before continuing to pet him. He looked so peaceful, it reminded Tord of highschool. Something in his heart was burning, wanting for that feeling again.

But Tom hated him, and he hated Tom.

Right?