Moonstruck ; Tomtord

Far Apart

The world around Tom was dark.

He opened his eyes.

Nothing.

He tried to look around.

Nothing.

He blinked, trying to activate his visors.

Still nothing.

Fear pulsated through his veins. This was his punishment, wasn't it? Tord had found him and he was going to die, if he was lucky and didn't have to face the same fate as those soldiers who the red army caught. But would Tord kill him? He didn't know anymore. After what he'd done, he didn't know what the repercussions might be. Tom attempted to move, but realized that his hands and feet were tied up. With rope, maybe? He couldn't exactly tell. The material didn't seem too hard to break, so he figured snapping it might need to be a last resort. The only thing thing he had was his voice, since he felt nothing restricting his mouth.

"Tord?" Tom attempted to keep his voice calm and level, knowing that if Tord sensed anger or hatred he would make whatever was to come worse.

No response was uttered, which was to be expected. But all of a sudden, mumbling filled the air. Tom couldn't make out what was being said, but he knew that Tord's voice wasn't apart of it. Almost every voice seemed to be British. Maybe one American? He couldn't quite pick it out.

"Hello?" Tom tried again. Silence. Not even the quietest of mumbles.

He felt hands on his arms and then some on his ankles. He didn't fight it. He kept calm.

"You can't see anything, can you?" A voice questioned. That voice. It seemed all too familiar. But then he realized who it belonged to.

"Paul?" Tom's voice was soft, black eyes darting around as he tried to find the source of the noice. He gave a small nod in response to the question once he'd finally given up on trying to locate him amidst the darkness. The hands on his body were gone as he realized that he now could fully move, that being evidenced by the fact that he could grip the chair he was previously tied to.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Paul responded, a small smile playing on his lips. He extended his hand to Tom in order to help him up, which the Brit gladly took.

Tom stood up and squeezed Paul's hand a bit before letting go, his arm falling to his side, "Yeah. It has." He responded. He felt a hand on his visors, pressing a button he didn't even know was on them. Paul knew much more about them since he ever would due to him working so closely with Tord. But he was grateful for that fact as the button now allowed him to see again, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light of the room. He tried to take in all the details of the room, but there wasn't much. A single chair was in the middle of it where he presumed he had been seated before. An old looking lamp was above the chair as so many people stood crowded around it. He didn't recognize any of them, although they had one thing in common. They all wore the green army uniform. Turning back to Paul, Tom now realized that he too wore the uniform. Everything was so clear now. They came back for him. He was safe now.

Paul's smile grew as he noticed how relived Tom appeared, "Welcome to the green army, Thomas." He stated as he began walking out the door, motioning for Tom to follow behind him. He did, gazing around the halls as he walked beside Paul. His unusual eyes and red army uniform caused him to get a lot of stares from soldiers, but he was used to that by now. It was the same thing at the red army, anyway. Being so close to the red leader does that to a person.

Paul eventually came to an abrupt stop at a certain door, giving it a small knock. Tom watched in confusion, stepping closer to Paul with worry. All that did was earn him a comforting smile. That was, until, the door opened.

The first thing no had noticed was his dull, dark brown yet almost black eyes. They no longer contained the hopeful spark he had grown so used to, or the soft auburn color that had previously filled his irises. His hair was neat and well groomed, a difference from his usually messy locks. The robot leg he'd earned from their past encounter was mostly hidden by his pant leg, but gleamed slightly in the now bright lighting. His uniform was like the others apart from the fact that it contained one simple phrase.

'Green leader.'

Tom was scared.

"Tom." His British voice spoke, but it wasn't normal. He couldn't explain it. It was just... off.

"E-Edd." Tom stuttered back. He gingerly accepted the hug Edd gave him, but pulled away as soon as he could. This all just felt so wrong.

"Tom!" A cheerful voice spoke, a familiar person running to greet him. Tom was given a tight hug, and as he looked down to confirm who it was, a tuffet of bright ginger hair met his eyes. It was none other than Matt, who seemed to be the only normal thing about this whole situation. That made Tom smile as he hugged back, glad that the ginger hadn't changed a bit.

But a single snap of Edd's fingers changed that. Matt violently pulled himself out of his arms, running back to his leader's side. Tom couldn't help but notice the terrified look in his blue eyes.

"That's quite enough, Matt." The tone of Edd's voice made Tom shiver. It sounded so bitter, so unlike his supposed best friend. He looked to Paul for guidance, for some clue as to what had happened in the months he'd be gone. But he wouldn't even look back at him, "You know better than to do something like that to a guest. Why don't you go make yourself useful and get us some tea?"

"Yes sir." Matt said in a low, panic stricken voice. He ran past Tom and out of the room, his head down as he did so.

"But-" Tom tried to speak, but Edd cut him off.

He smiled in such an unsettling way that he couldn't help but think of a certain Norwegian, "Take a seat, Tom. We have so much catching up to do!"

He did.

But something was oh so wrong.