Fear (TordTom)

Chapter 12: I Don't Know Anymore

A few weeks passed. Everyday, Tom would wait patiently for Tord at his house in the backyard. Tord would arrive, and they would practice techniques and stances and certain moves for certain situations. When the training was over, Tord would join them for dinner. Then, he left.

Tom was surprised at himself. Not because of the fact that he was getting stronger, but because he didn't react to Tord's presence like he used to. When Tord would enter Tom's vision, all Tom could really feel was a tiny, numb ball of rage in the depths of his mind. Now, when he saw Tord, the tiny ball of rage unfurled to reveal a tiny pulse of...happiness? Joy? Appreciation? Admiration?

He didn't know.

And that's what scared him.

He lie awake on his bed, the tiny lights twinkling softly. He had decided to decorate his room to be more appealing for when Tord would show up. Tom clenched his fist. He had changed his room for him. He shouldn't care about what Tord thought. Tord could think Tom was a hobo for all he cared.

He tried relaxing, closing his eyes in an attempt to get some rest. He saw black for a few moments, until he began to dream.

He was in a field, the grass softly brushing his pajamaed legs. He ran his hand gently against the grass, feeling calmed by its presence. It's pretty out here. Tom thought. He began to walk until he spotted a hill with a cherry blossom tree in the distance. Smiling, he walked a bit faster, until he was almost running.

He reached the hill, panting and out of breath, which was a bit surprising considering he was a soccer player. He rested his hand on the tree, gasping for breath.

"Tom?" A voice called.

Tom's head shot up, alarmed. He glanced around, looking for the person who spoke to him.

Haired horns peeked from a patch of grass, and Tord appeared, sporting his usual red hoodie. His eyes were widened in surprise as he glanced up at the Jehovah. He began to climb the hill until he was standing face-to-face with Tom.

And then he smiled his crooked grin.

It was all over for Tom.

Sparks ignited in his chest. His heart quickened. Flames spurted out of the cherry tree trunk, climbing into the sky and spreading the inferno to the fields. The whole dreamscape had gone black and charred, while smoke clouded the air and turned the sky gray and gloomy. It seemed that when Tom's heart bursted, so did the world around him.

"Tom!" Suddenly, the flames reached out, grabbing Tord with fierce bright orange claws. He was dragged back, getting closer and closer to the raging infernos. His body was thrown into the fires, flames engulfing his limp body. He was gone.

"No..." Tom whispered.

A boom echoed ahead, and Tom looked up. Clouds now shrouded the dreamscape. A gentle drop of rain splashed on his nose, and soon, the whole area was blessed with the gentle pitter-patter of a light drizzle. The peace of rain surrounded Tom for a few moments until it grew heavier, washing out the fires. The bright orange monsters were reduced to tiny embers that fizzled and burned out silently. The smoke that clouded the sky still hung heavy in the air, but began to disperse as the smell of rain and mist overpowered it.

A soft breeze touched his cheek, and something warm fell into his hands. He glanced down. It was a piece of Tord's red hoodie, a bit charred around the edges. He grasped it firmly, tears splashing his skin and falling onto the fabric in small rivulets.

The piece of hoodie began to glow dimly as the tears hit its surface. Tom jumped and let go, his eyes trained on it as it fell to the ground. With Tom a few feet away, it began to glow brighter, morphing into a new jacket, then a body to fit inside it, with black sweatpants and socked feet following in suit. It was Tord, once lost in the fire, but now he was here, standing in front of Tom, still smiling that same crooked smile that made Tom's heart burst once more. Tord reached out with one hand, calloused and rough, but it felt soft and kind when Tom grabbed it.