"Until now, you've been very difficult to track down, Red Leader." Bella smiled unpleasantly as she leaned forwards in the sofa, peering at him with her piercing eyes.

Tord was forced to his knees. A new sense of numb apathy washed over him as he realised who Ylva worked for; the Burning Tygers– the very people the two of them were supposed to be taking down together. It didn't make any sense.

Bella stood up and approached him, her long legs clad in tight leather and her feet in intimidating black heels. "I thought you would've been a lot more impressive than this, I must say. You didn't even put up a fight!"

"Disappointing," James said blandly, going to her side and crouching down. "You're quite puny for an army leader."

Tord would've fought, but the message didn't quite get from his brain to his body. He didn't even try to look up at them, instead opting for analysing the cold, concrete floor. They didn't seem to like that; Bella grabbed his face in his hand and snapped his chin up to look her in the eye. Her skinny fingers dug into his cheeks and his scars burned, and yet his gaze was empty of all emotion.

"I thought we told you to bring him here unharmed, girl!" James growled at someone behind Tord, his beady eyes set on a cold stare.

"He is unharmed, sir." Ylva responded with a wobble in her voice.

"Then what's wrong with him?" The fourth man they had seen at Troxy peered down at the prisoner with a displeased scowl.

She took in a shaking breath; Tord could practically imagine her hands in fists by her sides. "I- I'm not sure, s-sir."

"I think he's in shock, Kelvin." Anthony pointed out, not moving from his position on the sofa and causing everyone to look his way. "He probably isn't even aware of what's going on right now."

"He's supposed to be Red Leader! Surely he's used to far more shocking things than this." Kelvin spat back, kicking Tord in the ribs with such force that the Norwegian tumbled to the side and lay on the ground. "Pathetic!"

Tord sure felt that way. He didn't bother moving from his position on the concrete, instead just gazing into oblivion. Everything felt like a horrible dream, and perhaps if he just let it play out he'd eventually awake and be free. How could Ylva have betrayed him? Did she ever even work for him? Or was she always a traitor from the moment she joined the army?

He blinked slowly. Some things didn't make sense. She joined the army to follow in her father's footsteps and outshine her many brothers. As far as he was aware, they didn't have enough money to ever have gone to London and have any sort of contact with the Burning Tygers. If that was the case, how would she have joined the gang?

"Wow, he really is messed up." James snorted and jabbed Tord's face with his boot.

He could barely register the pain. Blood trickled from his nose and followed the curves of his lips as it dripped down his face. The crimson red was so similar to the colour of his hoodie as it pooled on the ground.

Bella reached forwards and grabbed Ylva by the front of her hoodie, pulling her so sharply that the ginger almost fell over the betrayed. "Fix him. We can't have him looking so disgusting when our leader arrives."

The woman stood up with a huff, turning on her heel and striding from the room. James paused to spit on Tord with a nasty cackle, the smile only making him seem more terrifying as he followed her. Kelvin seemed to consider another kick, but Bella clicked her fingers and instead he settled for an unpleasant glare. Anthony stared at the Norwegian pair for a moment before sighing heavily and standing up, tailing the others out of the room.

Ylva winced as the door slammed. She turned her attention to her former leader, her faint eyebrows lowering and her expression twisted with guilt. Her hands were surprisingly gentle as she grabbed his shoulders and helped him sit up. The moment he was kneeling again, his body started to lean to one side, threatening to slump back onto the unforgiving concrete. She carefully maneauvered herself so he could lean on her, not even caring that his blood was oozing onto her pink hoodie.

"Tord?" She asked nervously, "can you hear me?"

There was no verbal response. His half-closed eyes lazily moved to settle on her face. She softly brushed some of his hair from his face, trying to smooth it back into the two points that were so similar to horns. He shut his eyes at her touch, pursing his lips and frowning slightly.

"Why?" His voice cracked. "Why did you betray me?"

She pretended to be busy with her task of getting some tissues out of her pocket. Ylva held up one folded, white square, placing one hand lightly on the back of his head as she dabbed cautiously at the blood on his tanned skin. It made his heart lurch painfully at how caring she was being, but he hated every second of it.

"How can you just act as if you're not the reason I'm here right now? You're the reason I'm injured. You're the reason I'm probably going to die." His voice started to raise as he tensed up, dizzily pulling away from her touch. "It's all your fault, soldier, and you don't even have the decency to talk to me."

She flinched and looked away from him. He placed his hands on the floor and pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly and hoping he looked a lot stronger than he felt. His fists clenched at his side as his jaw tensed, channelling the hurt from her betraying into anger and power.

"What? What did I do to wrong you so badly that you stabbed me in the back?" He was yelling down at her now, his eyes narrowing and his posture becoming significantly more aggressive. "You made me remember what it was like to live, soldier! You made me feel so happy, even when the situation seemed so bleak. After all these years, you reminded me how to love again." Tord wiped his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, hoping he removed most of the blood. His tone softened. "I loved you, Ylva..."

Slowly, she turned her head to face him. Her eyes were glistening and she shut them quickly, standing up and then fixing him with a gaze seething with anger.

"They said they knew where my father was!" She shouted back at him, taking him by surprise. "If I helped them, they said they'd give me my dad back. There was nothing I could do!"

"You could've told me! Or you could've told someone else: Edd, Matt– hell, even Tom!" He cried, "we could've helped you! We could've planned something and got him back!"

"What if they hurt him?" She was shaking, despite her squared shoulders. "What if they killed him, Tord? I couldn't take that chance!"

"How do you know they're even going to hold up their end of the bargain? What if they take me and don't return him?" He pointed out in a stressed whisper; all his anger seemed to fizzle away, to be quickly replaced with sympathy.

Ylva seemed to calm down a little more too. "And if they do keep to the deal?" She dropped her gaze. "I'm sorry, Tord..."

~

Aw.

Hope you enjoyed!