Tom wasted no time moving on from that little 'fight', relaxing against the headboard of his bed once more and turning on a movie to sleep to.

Tord sat on his bed, still stunned.

'Out of all the things he could've done? He threw a book?' Tord snorted to himself at his pathetic attempt to be threatening and curled up in his blanket.

He watched Tom roll around in his bed for a while, staring holes into his comforter.

And as the sun finally set, along with the strange tension between the two, Tord gathered up the books and carefully put them back on Toms bookshelf.

Then went to take a shower.

•••

Tom had laid there for a long while, listening to the soft sound of the water hitting the tile in the shower.

There was every sign in the world for Tord to be questioning him? And it's not like he hadn't asked before?
'He has to know.'
It's not like it was a hard puzzle to put together.

He stayed anxiously rolling around in his sheets until he heard the shower stop.
Tom pretended to sleep, listening as the bathroom door unlocked and he stepped out.

Tom didn't dare turn around to face him.
He could feel him standing right next to his bed. Tord watched him sleep.

He listened to him breath for a long while.
And then the floor creaked as he walked back over to his side, along with the window. Tom listened as Tord opened his window and snuck out into the night.

'What in the hell?'

•••

Tord was running. Running from nothing. But Running to safety.
The safety of his army base.

He hadn't had the privacy to call for his men to get him a ride over, so running there was the next best option. Not that it was a horrible thing, he was in no way 'out of shape'.

Running way out of town, Tord finally decided on calling his two side men.
"Patryk?" Tord heaved in breaths of air.

"Red leader? Are you in trouble?"

Tord chuckled.
"Oh, no I'm fine. But I need a ride to the bas-" he was cut off by a rough shove in the shoulder.
He stumbled over and dropped the phone. It clacked against the concrete.

                  "And what business do you have here, red leader?" A member of the opposing leadership stood above Tord.

He stood up, unthreatened. And easily towered over him.

•••

He was hurting.

Tom could feel it.

In his ribs, his neck, his head.
He knew that something awful had happened to Tord. He had yet to come home from where ever he went and it worried Tom near death.

The second day had passed and he finally called.
                 "Tord? Where are you" Tom didn't wait for him to say hello when he picked up, cutting right to it.

Seconds passed before a different voice answered.
                 "Who is this?"
Tom paled.

Was he out with someone else? Did someone steal his phone? Was he dead?

                 "A friend. Where is he."

Muffled voices were heard on the other line as Tom awaited an answer.

                 "Jail, actually."

•••

Tord sat smugly against a cold stone wall in a cell. Not regretting a single thing.

Besides the fact that he got himself into jail.

He watched as a guard came and unlocked the cell door.
                 "Someone came and bailed you out. Get out of here." The guard forcefully grabbed and shoved him down a hall way and outside.

Of course, Tord was expecting Pat and Paul to be there to get him. And as he walked into the mail lobby of the county jail, holding a smug grin, he was met with Tom.

Tom walked over to him with his hands in his jacket. No emotion was held on his face. He sighed and spoke, leading the way out.
                "What the fuck did you do?!" Tom said through gritted teeth.

Tord stayed silent.

As the approached Toms car, he paused.
               "Ya' know...when I went in there I asked them to keep you case confidential, expecting you to just come out and tell me what happened. But maybe my expectations were to high." Tom continued and got into the vehicle, Tord in passenger.

Tord kept quiet, ashamed of himself.

•••

At home Edd and Matt were gone.

Tom had already made food, even a chai.
But it was nothing special. Just some grilled cheese and soup, he wasn't a chef.

The two sat in silence at the island in the small kitchen.
Tom waited for something to be said.

Tord couldn't handle the painful silence and got up, walking down the hall to the bedroom.

Tom slammed his fists into the counter and stormed after him, gripping the back of his sweatshirt.
                "I think the fuck not. Where do you think you're going?!" Tom pushed him into the wall, rage mode full force.
                "We're going to talk about this. I don't care if you don't want to tell me about it at this point, you're fucking telling me." Tom got up in his face and Tord gave him a nasty look back.

Tord violently pushed him back and continued on into the room.
                 "Whatever man.."

•••

Tom sat next to him on the floor next Tords bed in shock. Tord hadn't even looked at him yet, ashamed.

                 "So....you were blamed for the murder of a man?"

Tord cringed at the tone in Toms voice. He sounded so relieved. So trusting.It felt wrong to lie to him, it hurt.
But it would be worse to tell him he got away with murder. Way worse.

•••

Later that night Tord went outside to smoke, dialing his side men's home phone as he exhaled a cloud of cancer.

Patryk picked up, and said relieved,
                 "Took you long enough. We were starting to get worried." Tord smiled at that.

                 "I've been out for a couple hours now actually. Why did you tell Tom?" His mood went from collected to pissed in a matter of seconds.

Pat sighed.
                 "He sounded worried Tord. And if he knew as much as your phone number we assumed he had to be close." He paused to wait for a reaction from Tord. When he got none he continued, "and he insisted we let him get you out. Poor kid was so shocked." Patryk awkwardly chuckled to try and help lighten the tender conversation.

Tord chewed his cheek for a moment, lost in thought.
                  "Well, thank you." He mumbled and hung up. 

He flicked his cigarette to the gravel and rubbed it out with heal.

•••

Tom had a hard time believing him.
He knew Tord had been apart of something. He felt it.

Tom was lost in thought, sitting in the living room watching a movie he'd seen thousands of times before.

He watched Tord come back up the steps and into the living room. He walk past him and smiled guilty.
The lingering smell of cigarettes and spice was all that was left in the living room, as Tord closed the bedroom door. Leaving Tom to think alone.