"That was a useless endangerment of my life!"

"Yeah, it was."

"I didn't even get any useful intel as to where they will be next!"

"No, you didn't."

"I could use some words of encouragement, you know." Tord glared at Tom, resting his face in his hand with an aggravated huff.

Tom quirked his eyebrow up, his lips barely twitching into a smile. "Yeah, you could."

Despite the situation, Tord found himself laughing -actually laughing- because of the Jehovah's Witness. He was shaking his head and grinning, his whole body shaking as he let out wolf-like barks of amusement. Tom, taking himself by surprise, chuckled a little as tears began to spill from the Commie's eyes and his giggles became silent gasps.

"Y'know, Tord," Tom started, motioning with his silver flask, "you're alright."

"Really?" The Norwegian was so taken aback he forgot to breathe.

The Englishman's teeth flashed in a casual, hasty smile. "Yeah."

There was an awkward silence. Tom and Tord stared at each other, as if seeing one another in a new, good light. They'd spent most of their lives hating each other and having a stupid rivalry, but now it seemed they were becoming friends and everything was all rather bizarre.

"So... What now?" Tord finally spoke up, breaking the uncomfortable tension.

"Well... These people, the Burning Tygers, they're looking for you, right?" Tom lightly placed his flask on the kitchen table, leaning forwards a little.

"Yes..."

He relaxed back in his chair, draping one arm over the backrest. "So, it would make sense if you had something to defend yourself with."

"I didn't train in an army for years for nothing, you know." Tord pulled a couple of pistols from the pocket of his familiar red hoodie, looking unimpressed.

"I know, but they know that just as much as I do." Tom elaborated, "they'll be expecting you to have guns, knowing about your arm, and anticipating your self-defence abilities. You need to take them by surprise if things take a turn for the worse."

"Wow, you're smarter than you look." Tord definitely looked impressed now, the corner of his mouth curving upwards in a smirk.

"Thanks," Tom stood up and tucked in his chair, "I think... Anyway, that room you entered when you, uh, blew up the house and ruined our lives last time you returned, it was in the blueprints we gave to the builders."

"So everything's still there?" The Norwegian excitedly got to his feet, suddenly having immense faith in the person who had been his rival for so long.

"Everything... Except the giant robot." Tom deadpanned, a warning note in his tone as Tord made a disappointed 'aw' noise.

They left the kitchen and headed down the hall to Tom's old room. Tord lifted the first painting off the blue wall and jokingly made as if to press the shockingly realistic image of a big red button, then took off that painting and pulled the convenient lever that dwelled beneath. The back wall of the room raised up with a white of machinery, revealing all the untouched technology and plans that had been helpfully replaced alongside the house.

Tom trudged into the room a little nervously, looking around for a moment before he stopped and noticed something. He narrowed his eye-holes at the blueprint sheet for what seemed like some kind of one-eyed monster next to a test tube with the ingredients of some sort of serum.

"Hey, uh... what's this?" Upon noticing the Norwegian's alarmed expression, Tom crossed his arms. "No more secrets. I promise I'll try not to murder you if I get annoyed, Commie. No guarantee, though."

Tord laughed nervously; he didn't want to lose Tom's trust because he was a powerful ally, but he was also unwilling to explain the tests he completed. "It's... Nothing important...?"

"Tord..." The Brit began in a warning tone.

"Okay, okay!" He bit his lip and stared at the floor. "I may have experimented on you with this serum I invented, and it turns you into a monster when you find your transformation trigger."

Tom began to laugh quietly. Tord look up again with a confused expression, sincerity practically glowing on his scarred features. The eyeless man slowly trailed off, his face falling.

"Oh... You're not joking..." Tom took a few moments to mull the situation over. "Why choose me and not someone else?"

"Your blood-type was a perfect match for the serum. It would've likely killed someone else, or perhaps caused them to permanently lose control and go on a murdering rampage to kill anyone and everything they've ever known and loved, only to eventually be captured by the government and destroyed with such a force that their toxic insides would explode out over the entire country and mutate everyone that remained into zombies." Tord shrugged and tucked his hands nonchalantly into his hoodie pocket. "You know, that sort of thing."

"Huh." The Brit let that sink in. "Well, do you know my trigger?"

Tord considered it for a moment, his brow furrowing as he tried to recall the long-ago experiment. "It's likely to be either anger or pain... Or maybe both."

"Can we try?"

The Norwegian looked immensely surprised. "Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't, Commie."

That decision led Tom to being stuck inside some sort of giant, empty test tube with all sorts of wires monitoring his brain activity and heart rate. He wouldn't have admitted it out loud, but when he was stuck in there with absolutely no means of escape and only the communist there to help him... He was the teeniest, tiniest bit nervous.

"Let's start with pain, shall we?" Tord practically glided over to a control panel, his eyes scanning over the multitude of very pressable buttons.

Tom let out a soft grunt when a little shock of electricity sparked through the collar around his neck. "I bet you're going to enjoy this..."

"More than I'd like to admit, yes." Although his statement was serious, his playful grin afterwards eased Tom's anxiety a little.

The power level gradually racked up until Tom could no longer stand, his body convulsing as the current passed through. When the shock stopped, he let out a long groan of pain, but there were still no signs of a transformation. He sluggishly picked himself up off the ground and leaned against the test tube, trying to regain his breath.

"Maybe we should move onto anger now..." Tord advised upon seeing the state his friend was in, pressing a few more buttons to safely disable to shock collar. He moved to stand in front of the container, his hands behind his back. "Uh... What makes you angry?"

"Everything." Tom replied bluntly.

"Oh, well, that's helpful." Tord glared at him sarcastically, shaking his head. "Okay... What if I were to take a drink from your flask?"

The Brit smiled tauntingly, crossing his arms and starting to enjoy himself. "You wouldn't. My Smirnoff is too strong for a baby like you."

"Wanna bet?" Tord picked up the silver flask and unscrewed the cap, bringing it to his lips and taking a large swig. His face drained of colour almost immediately and he spat it all out again, leaving a puddle on the floor. "What the hell do you put in this thing? There's no way that's just Smirnoff!"

Tom winked, a smirk playing on his lips. "It's my own secret recipe."

Tord looked a little ill, holding the flask at arm's length and placing it back down. "I don't think I want to know." He suddenly froze, his face blank of all expression.

"Hey, are you okay...?" Tom ventured the single step to the front of the test tube, pressing his hands against the reinforced glass.

Tord began to pace the room, moving his hands and muttering quietly to himself under his breath. "The molecules in alcohol... In a high enough concentration... They should hinder the brain's ability to trigger the transformation..." He came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the room. "Tom, you need to stop being an alcoholic!"

Tom raised an eyebrow, the concern fading from his face. "Not gonna happen."

"Can you at least drink less...?" The Norwegian attempted to smile sweetly. "Please?"

"Will it mean I could transform into that monster by will?"

"In theory, yes."

Tom blinked. "In theory?" He then sighed, looking up and preparing for the instant regret of his decision. "Fine. But I'm not doing this for you..."

"Great!" Tord's face lit up like any child but Tom's on Christmas morning. "Now, let's get you out of there and start inventing some guns."

Tom suppressed a smile. "Sounds good to me."

~

Hope you enjoyed (: