|| Chapter Eighteen. ||

Instructions

Everything was quiet for a few moments. Tom's breathing seemed silent. He wasn't loud. The silence from him actually hurt more. Tord stood there, still, staring at his old friend. He didn't know what to say. What could he say? Tom kept smiling, staring at Tord. Waiting for the leader to say something. Anything. Waiting for orders, questions. Or just a conversation. Anything that the Red Leader wants he'll get. That's what loyal soldiers do. And right now, Tom was all Tord's to growl orders at. Anything he wants to say, any attitude. Tom would stand here and take it. Do whatever he needs to do. Leave, if the leader wants him to leave, he'll leave. He has to stay loyal to the strongest. Has to keep his trust. Tord stood there, staring at Tom with absolute horror. No. No, he's not supposed to be here. He's supposed to be back in London with Matt and Edd. He's not supposed to be-- here. With Tord. This isn't how it was supposed to end up. Tom wasn't even supposed to end up here. "Tom--" Tord choked out. "Sir?" Tom stood up more straight, his hands behind his back. "No-no, don't 'sir' me." Tord mumbled, looking away from Tom. He couldn't even look at him. "Don't-- never mind." Tom went quiet without a complaint. He didn't want to speak to Tom. He didn't want to look at Tom. But if he didn't say anything this wouldn't get /fixed./ Tom wouldn't /leave./ Tord inhaled shakily. "Tom--can you--...leave?" He asked carefully. Tom stood there for a minute, his smile never faltering. "Of co--" He went quiet for a few seconds. "No." He hummed smoothly, his tone still cheerful, though the tone slightly went serious, but then snapped right back into the happy demeanor. "I've already been given orders to stay in the room with you." A beat. "What else do you want me to do?" Tord stood there quietly. He didn't say anything. He felt like he was talking to a brick wall even though Tom was answering him. It just felt weird. Tom stood there, quiet, awaiting Tord to say something else. Requests, questions... anything. Patiently. Standing there. His "eyes" unblinking, staring at Tord. Don't speak unless spoken to. Keep his trust. Do what he wants. He's the leader. "I-- Tom..." Tord muttered after a while, still not looking at him. "Are you...alright?" "I'm good as long as you want me to be good!" Tom chirped. "..No, I mean, honestly." Tord said, glancing at Tom for a split second, before biting his lip and looking away again. "I am being as honest as I can be right now." Tom answers, tilting his head. "You seem...uncomfortable." He said calmly, his tone still managing to be cheerful as his smile falters, taking a half step forward, but then stopping, staring at Tord. "I..." Tord mumbled, before going quiet again, looking at Tom. "I mean, I am uncomfortable. You're acting...weird...I don't know--" "You just have to get used to it." Tom said simply, smiling again, dipping his head, pulling his hand to his chest, raising his head. "It won't take long. I'm not going anywhere. I promise." He said, staring at the leader. Tord winced quietly as if that fact hurt. Tom stood there, blinking patiently, resting his hands behind his back. "Look, Tom--" Tord mumbled quietly, forcing himself to take a breath. "I'm not going to order anything from you. I'm not going to force you to stay in the room. I don't care what you do." He said more loudly, staring at him. "I'm listening to you." "...I'm telling you that you can do anything you want. Go home, maybe?" Tord mumbled, getting quieter again. "I don't want to do that." Tom said, staring at Tord, tilting his head. "I want to listen to you, and serve as a soldier in the Army." He said, bowing his head. Tord tensed up, staring at Tom quietly. He felt sick. He hated this. Tord cleared his throat quietly, before looking away. "I--" He stared at anything else but Tom. He'd stare at anyone else if there was somebody else. But the only other person in here was him, and he wasn't just going to stare at his feet like an upset child. He's not pathetic like that. He couldn't deny Tom if he wanted to join the Army. It'd just take long training. Patryk. He could send him to Patryk. Tom continued to stand here, staying silent, almost holding his breath. /Almost./ He's so silent. It's wrong. It's weird. It's not Tom-- at least not the old him. It makes Tord really wonder if this /is/ his fault. But it just makes him feel worse. He couldn't have been the point of-- this. Tom's not supposed to be-- like /this./ With /him/, of all people. Not supposed to be smiling. They're supposed to be rivals. Not friends seeing each other after a long time. Tom stood there, staring at Tord. Not moving. Just standing still. Awaiting something--anything. He didn't clear his throat to get the leaders attention. Just stood there. Patiently. Cheerfully. If he wants to take a while to answer, let him. He can wait. And when Tord's ready to speak, Tom'll listen without hesitation. Answer as much as he can. As Tord wants.