Tom wasn't scared of much. Thunder of course, but other than that, not much really phased him. He might have been scared of quite a few things when he was a child, but he grew out of most of those. One fear he specifically remembers? The dark. It wasn't nearly as bad as his fear of thunder, it didn't make him cry or paralyze him in any way, it was more a feeling of paranoia if anything. The sole fact that literally anything could emerge from the darkness is what scared him as a kid... That anyone or anything could be watching him and he would be none the wiser. Of course, he had grown out of that fear... Or at least that's what he told himself, I mean... It was true right? Being stuck in a cold cell without any light reminded him of his old fear. He decided to try and think of other things to distract himself. He tried thinking about Edd and Matt. Were they looking for him? There wasn't a single doubt in his mind, they had to be. Tom silently wished them luck, because he knew that Edd would never be able to do it on his own and the only other person he has to help him is... Oh wow, yeah they're going to need all of the luck they can get. Tom sighed and decided to lay down on the floor. He didn't want to imagine what had been on the floor at one point, but honestly he was just tired, so much so that the cold concrete seemed welcoming. He didn't mean for it to happen, but his thoughts shifted to Tord. What was he up to now? Well no, Tom knew that, he wanted revenge. What Tom didn't understand was why Tord was seemingly nice to him. Sure, most people wouldn't consider his actions nice in any way, but most people don't know Tord. Normally Tord would go all out to try and make Tom suffer, and while Tom understood the whole "prolonging his suffering" thing, he still didn't get why Tord wasn't as horrible as he normally was. The Tord he knew would've just let Tom bleed out after getting his leg sliced up. Even if he did want Tom to live so that he could continue the torture, he probably would've patched him up pretty badly on purporse, but Tord actually called his medic to patch him up, he even had him check on him. Something just wasn't right, Tom could feel it. Tom had a hunch that all of this had something to do with his lost memories. Tom heard the basement door suddenly open and slam shut, letting in some light for only a second.
"Crap!" A voice whispered. Tom had heard that voice before... It was that one chick wasn't it? What was her name? Katie? Katrina?
"Um... Hey?" Tom awkwardly greeted.
"Oh! Hi little one! Didn't realize you were awake! Don't worry, it's just the fabulous seamstress, also known as the wonderful Catherine!" The seamstress giggled. Tom was unimpressed.
"Okay, well what are you doing down here? Did the commie send you?" Tom asked.
"Commie?"
"Tord,"
"...."
"Ugh, your maroon leader, or whatever he's calling himself," Tom sighed.
"Oh! You mean Red leader! No, he didn't send me!" The seamstress chuckled.
"Then why are you here?" Tom frowned.
"Well I uh... I'm kind of hiding from someone right now, you remember the ripper right?" The seamstress grinned.
"How could I forget?" Tom mumbled.
"Yeah, he did a number on you, anyways, he's actually my older brother, see, I hid cameras all around the base to figure out who was stealing all of my sewing needles-"
"Oh yay, a story," Tom replied sarcastically.
"Shush, I'm not done! Anyways, I found out it was our medic, David, but that's not the point! I was too lazy to take all of the cameras down, so basically I watch them daily to see if they catch anything juicy, long story short, I told everyone something I wasn't supposed to, and now my brother is trying to find me and scold me," The seamstress shrugged.
"What'd you tell everyone?" Tom asked, just trying to make conversation. The seamstress giggled. She was already in trouble, and she didn't want to get into anymore trouble, although she had to admit, it was incredibly tempting.
"Oh nothing, I wouldn't worry about it little one," The seamstress apologized. Tom was pretty irritated with the seamstress and her dumb nickname for him.
"Why do you keep calling me that?!" Tom growled.
"Crap, that's right, I forgot that you don't remember... Well, the nickname still works since you're short, heck you might even be shorter than David! Barely though," The seamstress laughed.
"What don't I remember?" Tom asked. Tom was getting sick and tired of people telling him things he apparently didn't remember.
"Sorry little one, I can't tell you, I'm already in enough trouble as it is!" The seamstress sighed. Tom was getting angry, very angry. He didn't have the time or patience for this.
"Just tell me!" Tom shouted.
"Whoa! Quiet down a bit! If my brother finds me I'm doomed!" The seamstress begged.
"Then spill," Tom scowled. The seamstress had a worried look on her face. She was mentally debating her choices. If she didn't tell Tom what he wanted to know, he'd start yelling and draw her brother right to her. If she did tell him, their was always the possibility that Red leader could find out... That would not end well. She had to risk it, on one hand she could be scolded, on the other she could be executed... She had no choice.
"No! I refuse! If I tell you I die! Understand?!" The seamstress shouted back. Tom let his body relax. He honestly felt kind of bad. He probably should've realized it earlier, if one of Tord's soldiers disobeys him, then death is probably right around the corner for them.
"Sorry..." Tom mumbled. The seamstress didn't expect Tom to actually give up so quickly.
"No... I should be sorry, trust me little one, I don't like being in this army, but my brother and I have nowhere else to go, it's not that I don't want to tell you everything, I do! I don't want to hurt anyone! I just can't, I'm so-" Her rant was interuppted by the basement door slamming open again.
"CATHERINE!" A deep voice shouted.
"Oh uh... Hey big bro!" The seamstress chuckled. The ripper came stomping down the stairs with a candle in his hand, allowing Tom to see them a bit better. Huh... They did look alike. They had eyes that resembled animal eyes, the ripper's seeming to be more like a snake's eyes and the seamstress' resembling a tiger. Both had black hair, and both seemed to share teeth that were almost fangs.
"Would you mind telling me what you are doing here with the prisoner?" The ripper growled.
"The prisoner? Ew, who would want to be called that? Can't we call him something else?" The seamstress giggled. How the heck was she staying so calm with the ripper looming over her like that?!
"Catherine, I do not have time for your nonsense," The ripper began baring his teeth.
"Oh? You don't have the time? That's odd, you sure had enough time to walk Davey back to the infirmary~!" The seamstress chuckled.
"You and your blasted cameras! Listen here skank, I am telling you this for your own good, cease spreading rumours about Red leader!" The ripper whispered harshly. Wait, did he just call his own sister a skank?! Tom was incredibly uncomfortable with the scene folding out in front of him.
"Yeah whatever," The seamstress scoffed, walking back up the stairs and leaving the basement.
"Hm, she's certainly a handful," Tom chuckled. The ripper turned and glared at Tom with a look that could probably kill an entire dog shelter.
"Quiet prisoner, you are fortunate that I am dedicated to my job, otherwise I would gut you right now," The ripper growled.
"Ah, so you're the threatening one in this army? Everyone else is actually pretty cool, except for the commie of course," Tom shrugged, trying to stand his ground.
"I am merely a soldier, however if people see me as threatening, then that is what they see, I cannot change that," The ripper trailed off, thinking about the medic.
"Lame," Tom mumbled spreading out on the floor a bit more.
"You do realize you have a bed correct? It is the cot right there," The ripper rolled his eyes, pointing to the metal slab sticking out of the cell wall.
"Nah, think I'm good right here," Tom sighed.
"I do not get why Red leader would want to waste so many resources on this one," The ripper groaned, walking back up the basement stairs.

I almost stabbed myself a few minutes ago on accident! :D we good, I managed to sort of patch myself up, and my first thought afterwards? Hm, better write that fan fiction! Anyways, I don't have any fan art for you today, but that's fine! Your enjoyment of this story is all I care about! Also I would like to thank you all for *Drum roll* FIFTY THOUSAND READS! How the heck did we come this far?! Clearly I'm happy, potential stab wound and all! Thank you all for reading!