"Is everything okay?" Edd made a concerned face upon realising both Ylva and Tord had been unusually quiet.

Tord flinched, whirling around to face where the front door was located before slowly turning back to face his friend with an unsteady smile. "Uh, yes, everything's fine."

"If you're worried about us judging you for the other night, you don't need to-" The Brit was cut off.

"No, it's not that, we..." Ylva shook her head, looking pale and with heavy dark circles under her eyes.

"You haven't been sleeping well, either of you." Edd added, placing down his cola can on the living room coffee table. "Something is definitely wrong."

"Really, everything's perfectly alright!" Despite his boldly confident statement, the Norwegian male had to cross his arms to hide his shaking hands.

"No, it's not. Tord, Ylva; both of you are our friends now, you can tell us anything that's bothering you." Edd's tone grew firm, surprising both the foreigners with his determined attitude.

"Edd, really, we'd love to tell you, but..." Ylva closed her eyes, seeming to shrink inside her pink hoodie until her mouth was hidden under the fabric; she turned away with hunched shoulders.

"So there is something to say!" He exclaimed with a triumphant grin, but it quickly faded upon noticing Tord gritting his teeth. Edd frowned, glancing down at the floor momentarily before stepped forward and embracing his friend. "Tord, let me help you."

Something inside him snapped. Tord's entire body tensed up, and in under a second his robotic arm had shot out and shoved Edd away, causing him to fall to the floor. The Norwegian flinched backwards, his hand raised and clenched into a fist and his eyes blazing.

"Stay away from me, Edd!" Tord roared down at his stunned friend, his chest heaving under his red hoodie and a ruby colour rising in his cheeks and ears.

"We heard yelling, are yo-" Matt poked his head in the doorway and squeaked in shock. "Tom!"

Tom ran to his friend's aid, freezing upon seeing the scene before him. His eyes immediately landed on Edd, who hadn't moved from his position and seemed to refuse to break eye contact with the next person the alcoholic noticed: Tord. Without even stopping to think, Tom threw himself at that damned communist and tackled him to the ground. He slammed a punch into the Norwegian's jaw, causing his head to jolt to one side, only to snap the other way from another hit.

Tord regained his senses and clamped both of his hands tightly around the Brit's throat, kneeing him in the crotch and flipping over so Tom was trapped underneath. The eyeless man choked out a growl and raised his arms, scratching at the sides of his captor's face, raking his nails deeply into the soft flesh and taking glee in seeing blood start to bead in the wounds. His scars were torn open and spilled scarlet over Tom, the man himself taking advantage of the distraction and prying Tord's fingers from his neck.

Tom slammed another punch on Tord's nose, hearing a satisfying crack that caused the Norwegian to reel back. The Brit rolled away, getting into a low stance with his hands ready to protect himself. He stood in front of Edd, determined to protect his sweet friend with everything he had. There were red marks on his throat and blood had splattered onto his skin.

Tord stumbled to his feet, blood flowing in streams down his cheeks and leaking from his nose. He smiled tauntingly at his opposer, revealing blood-stained teeth. His hoodie was rapidly becoming a darker red as blood dripped from his chin.

Tom grinned right back at him, raising his fists. "That all you got, Sunshine-Lollipops?"

Just as suspected, the Norwegian was triggered by the nickname. "Oh, shut up!"

Matt hastily tugged at Edd's hoodie, prompting him to stand up and move to the doorway of the living room. The two infuriated men rushed towards each other, intending to land some dangerous punches.

But they were stopped.

Ylva had bolted between them and grabbed them by the front of their hoodies, raising them up until their feet swung uselessly in the air. She had an unreadable expression on her face, unaffected by the repeated kicks at her sides and unfazed by the boys trying to attack her robotic arms.

"Sett meg ned, soldat!" Tord yelled at her, spitting out blood with every syllable. (Put me down, soldier!)

"Handle rimelig, herr!" She shouted right back at him, involuntarily tightening her grip. (Act reasonably, sir!)

"Soldat, det var ikke et forslag- det var en ordre!" He reached out his arm, attempting to make her elbow collapse but failing. (Soldier, that wasn't a suggestion- it was an order!)

Ylva bared her teeth in frustration, knowing she should follow the order but not wanting the consequences to play out. She dipped her head momentarily before turning to catch his eyes, glaring at him.

"Unnskyldninger, Rød Leder." And then, Tord had been flung into the wall (Apologies, Red Leader.)

His back crashed into it and cracks spread through the paint and plaster. He slumped to the carpet.

Tom chuckled, no longer struggling. "That's what you deserve, Commi-" and Tom had been thrown towards the window. He smashed through the glass with a yell of 'lame', hitting the front lawn and rolling until the momentum wore off.

"Was that really necessary, Ylva?" Edd spoke up in a small voice, causing her to turn around to face him.

She used the back of her hand to wipe the blood off her cheek: it smudged across her fair skin. "If I hadn't have stopped them, they would've killed each other."

Matt felt an icy chill claw at the inside of his ribcage when seeing her blank expression: he knew for certain what they had said before the two had be tossed away. He kept as hidden as he could behind his friend, his eyes wide and his stomach twisting with fear. The level of intelligence he possessed may not have been particularly admirable, but it wasn't difficult to work out what Ylva really was to Tord, and that relationship definitely wasn't romantic. Their chats may have been a complete lie, but Matt felt like he had been betrayed.

Although it probably wasn't the best time, Matt stepped forwards, gaining everyone's attention. "You lied to us."

"W-what?" Ylva seemed to remember her innocent act, blinking at him.

"You lied... You lied to me." The cheerful note had dropped from his tone and his features were darkened into one of a betrayed man.

She backed away as he advanced. "What are you talking about, Mattie?"

"You-" his eyes flashed and he jabbed an accusing finger at her chest as she hit the wall. "You lied to my face!"

"Matt...?" Edd's voice drifted from the doorway, not mentally prepared enough to break up another fight so soon.

"Edd, I was right. They didn't tell us the truth. They never have." Matt focused on every micro expression change; her eyebrows had twitched upwards and were drawn together, her lower eyelids were tense and her lips were slightly parted: she was afraid. "Tord is still Red Leader. Ylva, you work for him."

There was movement as Tord shifted under the dust and small chunks of rubble. "Whatever... Are you on about... Matt...?"

"You're not married. You definitely didn't come here to make friends. Something's gone wrong lately and-" he stopped in his heated, rambled accusations the moment the doorbell rang; both Ylva and Tord immediately gave up any attempts at arguing as their minds were plagued with terror. "...I'm guessing you brought that 'something wrong' home with you..."

~

Hope you enjoyed (;