Tom's Perspective

I awoke to the strangely gentle feeling of a warm and roughly skinned hand slowly massaging my back, with another colder and metallic one doing the same. It was so relaxing, but it was almost immediately drowned out by a skull bashing headache that made me want to commit suicide. I cringed at the severe pain and groaned, feeling the hands pull away from my back. "Hey, take this Advil and some water. You'll feel better soon." A calm voice reassured me, directing my attention to the pill and cup of water held next to my face. I shifted onto my back and slowly sat up, taking the medicine without even bothering to look at who it was. I knew it was Tord after all, who else had a robotic arm? I chugged the water before setting it on the nightstand, now refreshed and in pain still. I tiredly squinted at the Norwegian next to me. "The fuck.. You doing? Feeling me up?" I asked and cleared my throat, which felt like shit.

"I was helping you relax and try to feel better- you fell off the bed earlier on your back." He explained and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Hey- when did you get your arm back-?" I asked and stared at the smooth, red, metal limb. It was shiny and freshly cleaned, and fully repaired. "While you were passed out I got it back. I was tired of feeling disabled." Tord told me and pushed me back down onto the bed. "What.. Time is it..? Is it tomorrow?" I asked and relaxed when my throbbing headache began to subside. "It's only three in the afternoon, Tom." He informed me and helped me take off the soaked sweatshirt from my body. I must have been sweating buckets in my sleep. Tord laid down next to me and turned on the television on a low volume for me. This is nice, best hangover treatment I've ever gotten, which surprises me since it's coming from Tord. "Oh, here. This'll help you with your hangover, and feed you a lunch." He said before giving me a plate of what seemed like breakfast foods. Foods for a hangover I guess.

The pickle slices confused me, did they help with a hangover? The logic of things didn't matter much to me as I ate the delicious food. I enjoyed being spoiled unconditionally, even if it was at the price of a hangover. When I had finished, i set the dirty dish on the red nightstand and laid back. "How are you feeling now?" Tord asked and looked over at me. I stared back at his red eyes and thought about a good answer. Well, my head ache is calming down and I've been fed and hydrated. I also have a mental health day off of my new job, which is nice. "I'm alright.." I responded simply and stared at the Norski. He looks tired. ".. How are you feeling?" I asked and rubbed my sleepy eyes. I didn't really care how he felt, but it was worth asking. He did get shot a whole lot, and he was really tense and stressed. Tord gave a deep sigh in response. "Well.. Yeah, I'm alright. I wish I could talk to Patryk though." He admitted and looked at me. I stared back and noticed that he was smiling at me. What a weird guy.

"Thanks for being my friend, Tom." He said with a grin. He looked like a happy golden retriever, which is an expression Edd usually pulls off. He must be really happy. "I'm not your friend-." I corrected, which made him think for a moment. "Well, thanks for listening to me regardless." He said and got up off of the bed, making the bed lighter. He began filing through the closet as I came up with a comeback. "Do I really have a choice?" I asked and crossed my arms. "Well, you could be hiding in the corner and screaming to go back to your apartment right now. But you're not. You're in my bed, being fed by me, and being cared for by me. You're the luckiest person on this planet right now." He remarked as he took out a few items of clothing from his closet. As I considered the truth in what he had said, it became more apparent to me that he was right in some sense.

Other people would kill to be laying in bed with another person who smiles at them. Someone who's feeding them, clothing them, giving them a position, and keeps them company. To me, it wasn't the worst thing in the world. I could be back in that freezing dungeon, rotting away. Instead, I'm living a dream that many people would love to have. It made me silent. What could I say, after all? I would be grateful if I didn't hate the Norwegian. Tord came back over and made me sit up, holding out some clothing options for the remainder of the day. "Can't I keep my shirt off? It's not like we're going out in public." I asked and pulled up the warm blanket onto my body more. "Oh.. Yeah, you're right. My bad." He apologized, about to go put back the clothing. I wanted to stop him, something was in my mind. Something was stirring and wanted to come out, but it was impossible to say. In a moment of panic, I set my hand on his shoulder and stared at him.

He stopped in place for me and allowed a silent stare between us. What is his feeling? I feel sick. I feel so, so sick. Suddenly the nausea I was feeling became visibly apparent, my face awkwardly distorting in a sickened sense. Tord dropped the clothing in his arms and helped me lean over to the trash can, where I vomited the breakfast I had just eaten. I feel sick, so sick. My organs burned from the terrible sensations, and I kept gagging up the last of my meal. It felt disgusting, and it smelled just as bad. My mouth was also full of the gross mixture of stomach acid and digested food. I was slightly comforted by Tord's warm hand slowly rubbing my back, but it was very overpowered by my sickness. This didn't feel like a hangover sort of sick, but I couldn't really tell. I've only puked from alcohol a few times before, and I thought my body was used to it by now. "I'll get you another glass of water, just a moment." He said before walking off with an empty glass of water.

I avoided looking at the mess I had made in the trash can, instead trying to spit out the putrid flavors in my mouth. Something tasted weird, and it wasn't alcohol, food, or stomach acid. It was something else. Something very bitter and sickening. When it rested on my tongue, I couldn't stop myself from gagging more. It tastes absolutely atrocious. "I'm back with some water Tom.." Tord said in a gentle tone, trying to comfort me as I gagged. At this point, it was more like dry-heaving. Once my body seemed to get the idea that I couldn't possibly puke up anything else, it allowed me to stop and breathe. Tord coaxed me into slowly sitting up and helped me drink the water he had offered. "Are you alright Tom? Do you still feel nauseous?" He asked and I wiped my mouth. I feel so gross and unsanitary, and sick. It was hard to speak because my throat was still burning from the pain. "I'm... Okay.. And yeah.. I feel sick." I told him and allowed him to help me lay down.

"What kind of sick?" He asked as he began checking my temperature and vital signs. "Just.. There's this stuff in my mouth.. It tastes so bad. It makes me puke." I told him and tried to relax as he rubbed my arm. Everything felt gross and off right now, I need comfort. I need something to tell me I'm alright. "If that's the case, someone may have poisoned your food. It's not the first time that one of my staff has done this, it's quite common. I'm very sorry Tom, but we need to sample the poison to make sure it isn't lethal. Can you stay here while I get you a doctor?" He asked and I nodded slowly. "Can.. Can you give me that bunny? I'm nervous." I requested, seeming as I couldn't find Vanilla after drinking last night. "Yeah, here's the bunny." He said and picked up the plush from the floor. I quickly snatched it from his hands and held the rabbit, enjoying its soothing presence. "Just relax and drink more of the water, I'll be back very soon." He instructed me and got up.

I watched as he left the room, squeezing the white rabbit in my arms tighter. God, can't I just have a normal day off? I had to get poisoned, didn't I? I reached over to the nightstand and drank more of the refreshingly cold water, though I couldn't enjoy it because my mouth tasted absolutely disgusting. After waiting a while and watching the small clock on the wall, the door opened and a doctor came in. He was well dressed, but seemed overwhelmed by how much has gone on recently. Everyone is, but they're trained to hide it. The doctor stood beside me with Tord closer to me, acting as a familiar presence. "This will be a rather quick and simple test, I'll check your vitals first as a part of the procedure." The young doctor said as he gently propped up my arm, taking my pulse from my wrist. "Are your eyes.. Alright, sir?" The doctor inquired, which almost every person I talked to would ask. "Yeah they're fine, they work normally." I huffed and rolled my eyes. He couldn't tell, but Tord seemed to.

"Ah.. Please, follow my finger with your eyes." The doctor instructed and held a finger in front of me. I begrudgingly followed his finger as it moved from side to side and up and down. The doctor seemed completely baffled by my eyes. ".. You followed my finger, right?" He asked unsurely. I nodded in response as he held up three fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?" He asked and I scoffed. "Three." He then held up five. "And now?" "Five-." "And now?" "Eight- just give me the damn test for poison or whatever-." I hissed, which made the doctor nervously smile. "Right, I apologize. Please open your mouth sir." He politely requested and opened a small kit. It reminded me of those silly iodine tests back in middle school that were fun to play with. I opened my mouth and stared at the man as he carefully swiped three strips across my tongue, probably using my saliva. He waited for the strips to change color, but none of them did.

He then took out strips for different poisons (I'm assuming), and repeated the action. One of them did slightly change, which then caused the doctor to use the same type of strip again. This time, it completely changed color. The doctor did as well, seeming pale and frightened. Tord glanced over at the label and sighed, shaking his head. "What? What is it?" I asked worriedly, though I really didn't want to know. "Well you won't die, but you definitely need this stuff out of your system fast. It's very poisonous, and it's not good for your system at all. So now comes the fun part." Tord said before pulling the blankets off of me. "What are you doING-?" I yelled in surprise as Tord scooped me up into his arms. "Hey-! Dumbass-! I already puked up the poison!" I yelled angrily and attempted to push him away. "Tom- you had already begun digesting the poison- we need to be safe about this-." Tord said and growled when I pushed against his face. "I don't care- I'm staying here-." I stubbornly insisted and continued pushing him, though it was useless. Tord rolled his eyes and set me back down into the bed. "Well you can't work until we're sure that the poison is out of your system." He told me as if that was a bad thing. "More TV for me." I said and laid back. Tord groaned and began talking to the doctor in Norwegian. I ignored the two and pulled up the warm blankets, now comfortable as compared to when Tord yanked me out of bed. Tord stopped talking and looked at me.