The trays of food are taken from them and they sit in silence. Tord and Tom sit at opposite ends of the cell, Tord as close to Paul and Pat while Tom was closer to the door. The other man was staring at the ground with his knees drawn up to his chest, eyes squinted as he sniffs and wipes at his nose. Tom turns his back to Tord, laying down on the blanket.
Tord just stares at him, unsure what to think.
Tom returned with no sign of injury aside from the hoarse voice which could indicate that the screams were his. He could've been psychologically tortured, it would've made sense for no signs of injury. But what exactly were they doing to Tom and when will they turn on him, Paul, and Pat?
The lights snap off with a sharp noise, plunging them into darkness.
Tord hates how Tom stays on his mind. How long has he been struggling with his eyes? Have they gotten worse while he was captive by Tord's own scientist? He had said the war ruined his chances of getting his eyes checked and for some reason, Tord felt kinda bad about that thought even though he should be happy that Tom of all people was suffering, he hated the brit after all.
Maybe he was sick.
There's no way he'd show any care for Tom of all people.
~
The lights come back on hours later, startling Tord awake and making him grumble in displeasure, shielding his eyes for a moment as they adjust. They were using his own methods against him, keeping him and the others hungry, thirsty, and exhausted while they did whatever they wanted to them.
Tord sits up, rubbing his eyes for a moment before looking over at Paul and Pat. He gets a simple head tilt in acknowledgment before he turns his eyes to Tom.
The other man had his eyes lidded but open, staring up at the ceiling. His breathing was slow and even where he lay. Tord watches curiously as Tom lifts his hand up, opening and closing his hand as he watches it.
"what are you doing Jehovah?" Tord questions as Tom continues his weird actions. Tom drops his arm and turns his head to look at Tord for a moment, staring at him silently before looking back up at the ceiling. He had a strange expression on his face, a grimace almost. Tord scoffs and looks over to Paul and Pat who shrug at him.
The light cycle progresses for what must be two more days but who knows, they could be purposefully making them think days have passed more than what actually passed. He wouldn't put it past them, it would just be another method of torture. With each light cycle that passes, Tords stomach cramps more and more, his mouth dry as cotton and his teeth feel like chalk. How much longer until they give them water again?
Tom stays silent the entire time, doing the same staring-at-his-hand multiple times during the day. Tord calls over to Paul and Pat when nothing he says gets a rise out of Tom.
The red light of the camera is driving him insane but he can't do anything about it, for now at least.
~
When the lights come on tord keeps his eyes closed for a moment longer, pushing himself up and letting them adjust to the light. When he opens he still squints for a moment, looking over to Paul and Pat to see if they also woke up.
He jolts slightly at the sound of a door, footsteps echoing into the hallway and towards them. The person who comes in is carrying two gallons of water just like the first day of their captivity, one hooked on each hand, and is flanked by two other guards. The second has the other two gallons for Paul and Pat, while the third is armed with the cattle prod.
"Against the wall." The first one commands, stopping in front of their cell door. Tom is sluggish to get up, stumbling to his feet before he's pressing his back to the wall to do as they say. Tord is quick to copy, not wanting to risk going another week without water, not when his mouth felt the way it did, not when his stomach cramped with hunger pains.
It must be monday then, the beginning of the week and that means getting water with the promise of food later.
The gallons are placed beside their blankets then the guards leave, moving on to Paul and Pat. Tord hurries back to his gallon, snapping the seal open and yanking the bottle to his lips as he chugs, wetting his parched throat.
"Fuck..." he sighs as he drops the gallon back down, whipping at his face to dry his wet lips. He looks over at Tom who was still standing against the wall, staring at the bars of the cell for a moment before lowering himself slowly to the ground. Tord looks over at Paul and Pat, frowning when he notices the way the guards are sneering at them.
"Do we really have to water the fags?" one of the guards goads, nudging another who has a smirk.
"You know Bingbong doesn't want them to die. Blue over there is already in bad enough shape, if he dies it's either them or us on the chopping block next," he answers, throwing in the gallon and smirking as it breaks open where it lands.
"But that doesn't mean we can't make it a little harder for them." the third answers, jutting the cattle prod in and shocking Pat, making the man scream out.
"He wasn't even fighting you!" Tord snarls, banging on the bars as the guards laugh, "Shut it before it's your turn!"
Paul falls to the ground when they pull the cattle prod away, twitching and panting as he tries to gather his bearings. They turn to Paul who snarls a curse, not backing down even as they turn the prod on him. Tord watches helplessly as two of the most important people in his life are shocked mere meters away from him and all he could do was stare. He tries to open his mouth to yell something but Paul sends him a look, instantly silencing him.
The guards walk away, laughing and yelling abuse to them the entire time. Paul reaches a hand through the bars, trying his hardest to give some sort of comfort to Pat as he pants.
"How are you feeling?" Tord questions as Paul sits up, gripping his partner's arm.
"I'll be fine in a bit, those things are meant to hurt, not damage." He answers, shaking his head. Tord sighs and sits on the ground, pressing his back against the wall. He runs his free hand through his hair, cringing at how gross and oily it felt. He looks over to Tom who was now sitting closer to the bars, blanket on his lap, his right hand holding the gallons handle and his left caressing a bar of their cell. His eyes were lidded and his face was blank.
"The hell are you doing Tom?" Tord questions, but the other man says nothing and silently takes a sip of his water.
"You think you're all high and mighty? Ignoring me like this? For what? And after i thought we were starting to get along Jehovah!" Tord taunts, eyes wide and manic, turning his boiling emotions of anger onto the closest person.
"Classis stupid Tom, bending to the will of the enemy, sharing a cell with his greatest nemesis, only this time there is no harpoon gun to save you-"
"Please stop talking tord." Tom murmurs, putting the gallon down and slowly twisting the cap on it.
Tord isn't sure what makes him shut up, whether it was the soft please or just how quietly Tom had spoken in the first place, but his mouth closes with a click. He glances over to Paul and Pat but they once again shrug before turning back to each other, whispering quietly.
Silence reigns between them following Toms words, the brit still caressing the bars.
Tord goes back to counting the flashes of the red light of the camera, waiting for the food he knows is bound to come any minute now, yet he still jolts slightly at the sound of footsteps and doors opening. He didn't even realize how much time had passed.
Tom is forced to step away from the door, once again stumbling over his own feet as he stands and scurries a few steps away. The trays of food are placed into the cell and the guards move on, this time there is no shocks given to Paul or Pat.
Tord settles on the floor, back once again braced against the wall, eating slowly to savor the food for as long as possible even if it was barely edible. Tord is a few spoonfuls into his food when he notices tom struggling with his. Tord watches as he tries and fails to scoop some food into his spoon, face scrunched up as he focuses on the tray. He either fails to scoop up the food, or has it fall off his spoon before it reaches his lips.
That's when tord notices the tears caught in his eyes, the way he clenches his jaw as he tries to scoop up the food and fails.
"What the fuck is wrong with you Jehovah?" Tord tries to snarl harshly, fighting down the hint of concern he feels and tom breaks, beginning to cry as he drops his tray and rubs at his face. The proper crying causes all three to jump in surprise, wide-eyed as they glance at one another with uncertainty.
"Comfort him." Pat hisses and Tord reluctantly and hesitantly crawls over to Tom.
"Thomas?" He questions and Tom's hand shoots out, grabbing onto tord as he cries to ground himself. He's sobbing intelligible words and shaking his head as one hand presses against his lips. Tord awkwardly pats at the hand gripping his chest, once again glancing over at Paul and Pat who watch on with sympathy.
When he finally calms down he drops his hand that was on his face to his lap after giving it a quick swipe, his other hand still twisted in tords shirt. Tord doesn't yank it off, no matter how much he wants to. Something is definitely wrong but he's not sure what and its making him feel stupid which is just adding to his anger.
"What the fuck was that?!" Tord questions, waving his hand in front of toms face to get his attention when the man tilts his head away. Tom releases Tords shirt and grabs Tords hand, shoving it away.
"There's no point in doing that," Tom says silently, despondently.
"Why"
"They're useless." He mumbles and Tord doesn't understand, even more confused for a moment. Then Pat gasps slightly.
"Tom?" He calls and toms head turns to him, giving him his attention as Tord continues to stare at Tom, trying to understand.
"What do I look like?"
"Bangs and brown hair." Tom answers easily.
"And what color are my eyes?"
"I don't know."
"Squint, you can see them then." Tord huffs before stopping when Tom sniffs and looks away. Pat glares at him and that's when he figures it out, "Tom, I'm..."
"Just go back to your side commie." He sighed turning back to his food. He eats as much as he can, once again trying to avoid dirtying himself. He gets more food down the front fo his shirt than in his mouth.
Then he crawls back to his blankets and curls up in them, waiting for the lights to go off.
Tord doesn't want to ask if he wants help eating, he just knows it will make the man angry. It makes Tord want to laugh, the thought of him babying and hand-feeding the angry man would make him blow a casket.
Tord finishes his food and places his tray by the door of the cell, settling onto his blanket. He counts down the time until the lights turn off with a sharp click.
Tord stares into the darkness, sleep evading him and soon he's the only one awake. At least he thinks so, but Tom makes him flinch slightly when the man sighs and moves around, turning to face him.
"Why are you awake still?" He whispers into the quiet, but even then it sounds deafening.
"What about you? How'd you know I'm awake if you can't see?" Tord taunts.
"I felt your eyes on me" Tom replies easily and tord scoffs and rolls his eyes.
"Why'd you start this." Tom says after a moment of silence.
"Start what?" Tord says, annoyed.
"Really? alright, let me rephrase. Why'd you betray us for a shitty army that turned on you"
"I don't have to explain to you. The second I'm out of here I'm getting control again!" Tord exclaims and Tom Laughs.
"You won't manage that. They even took your arm with the rest of your freedom, what do you expect to accomplish with an arm and metal in your shoulder?"
"Thomas there are multiple possible ways to escape. The vents-"
"They're rigged, the second they sense your presence the fans will rip you to pieces." Tom interrupts
"Then attack the guards when they bring food, all I'd have to do is steal the cattle prod-"
"Besides the three that always move together, there are four to six guards at both ends of the hall on the other side of the doors, the second they sense commotion they will be on your commie ass." Tom states, once more interrupting Tords foolish plan.
"Then I'll pretend to be sick and once a guard enters the cell-"
"You'd have to keep it up for two days at the least, even then they wont get near you for a while. I've tried. I've tried everything you could think of but nothing will work. Get it through your thick skull, there's no getting out of here unless its in a body bag."
"Don't you understand who I am Thomas? I've spent years training with an army, my military-!"
"This is your army we're going against! They know how you fight, and they know every dirty trick you can come up with and exactly how to take you down, especially with how weakened you are right now." Tom snarls but continues, "You broke Edds heart for a stupid army that overthrew you the first chance they got. He cried for days you know that right?!"
Tord stays silent at the new information, he had known Edd would've been upset over what he was doing, but to cry over it? He shakes his head to remove the thought. If Tom hadn't've destroyed his robot he wouldn't be in this mess! He goes to say exactly that when Tom cuts to the chase
"Even Matt was upset. But that probably never mattered to you, to begin with."
"Go silent now big scary red leader. I don't wanna hear whatever you have to say." He turns over if the sound of shuffling is any indication.
"I... Thomas..." Tord starts, unsure what to say, going silent for a moment.
"I'm sorry... I regret that day sometimes." For a second he thinks Tom may have fallen asleep, but then the Brit scoffs out: "Sometimes."
"And I get nightmares. I remember when I killed John. When I thought I killed you. When the harpoon hit me. When I crashed." He rambled, not sure why he's still going, what he expects to get by giving Tom all this information.
"Go to sleep Tord. I don't want to remember that day as much as you do." Tom interrupts, stopping tords ramblings.
Tord sighs and settles further onto his back, counting the flashes of the camera's light as he tries to fall asleep.