Chapter Text
"Come on... they should be here. Where the hell does this idiot keep the papers?"
He had always hated entering the Red Leader's office ever since he had accepted being his right-hand man. He might have power, sure. But he detested the lack of order in a place that obviously should have it. And due to his position, unfortunately, he had unlimited access to be able to enter there freely under the right of "order" or "necessity" based on whatever his boss needed. Tom was searching through his commander's files for the blueprints for new weapons that would be needed for the war that hadn't arrived yet, but the other was ambitious when it came to wanting to counterattack if the opportunity arose.
"Surely there are people who think you're an idiot." Tom let out before leaving to look for the blueprints.
"Probably. But then they'll thank me for being alive a little longer." Tord answered him with a smile.
Tom still couldn't find the blueprints. He was cursing him under his breath while searching among papers and half-finished plans when he found what he hadn't been looking for. They were photographs, but not about macabre plans made real or giant robots that were the strange obsession of the Leader.
They were old photographs, but in good condition. Photographs that the Red Leader had definitely taken during his time as a photographer; a stage that Tom remembered all too well, but had never known what photos he took. What he didn't know was that part of his hobby was taking photos of him and sometimes of the others when they were companions and friends. There he was with his guitar Susan, the look of concentration Tom had while tuning it; another one was him asleep in the armchair; he was most likely drunk from the bottle in his hand and the last one; was in better condition, in which Tom saw that it was himself smiling at some stupidity said by one of the three. Unlike the others, this one had a small text on the back: “I like to see him smile”.
Those days were over. Those laughs and expressions of joy in the four of them no longer existed anymore. So, "why did he keep this?" he asked out loud, while flipping through the other photos. Tom didn't think much about the past, except at night when he wanted to get drunk on his days off. When everything hurts a little more. When he thought about Tord's face and not the Leader's.
He wanted to believe that the Leader also thought about the past like he did.
He wanted to believe that Tord missed him as much as he missed him.
"I should go back to the Leader." He thought the second the nostalgia invaded his mind, and then he went back to looking for the blueprints and returned to the meeting room.
The Commander was still talking. Tom approached him to hand him the blueprints when he saw his boss raise his hand.
"And Thomas, I give you the word." said the Red Leader when he had him by his side.
"Alright, as you can see here... We are in a new stage of improvement in the barracks. And we need people like you to carry it out." Tom spoke with complete confidence, but still couldn't get those images out of his mind. When had he taken them? What must Tord have been thinking when he took them? Tom spoke, moving his hands from here to there, pointing to each part of the plan on the blueprints. But he couldn't stop looking at his leader. He couldn't stop thinking about the photos. Of all the photos Tord had taken, those were in good condition and well kept. For what reason? What was he trying to prove? It was a stupid, badly told joke. He didn't even know why, after so much time, he had a horrible pain in his chest. "Those in the west wing will be in charge of carrying out the defense weapon plans. The rest will handle the entry and exit of materials that the wing needs. If you realize that something needs some improvement or alteration, talk to me." He finished.
Tom could feel his boss's gaze the moment he stopped looking at him. It had never mattered to him; he didn't know why it did now. "Very good, Thomas." He congratulated him as he approached him from behind and placed his hand on his shoulder with a light squeeze. His voice was distant, cold, but he could feel the slight smile that appeared on his face. "The schedules for everything necessary to carry out the plan will be assigned to you. You may leave."
Tom felt the lack of warmth on his shoulder when he saw everyone leave. He prepared to leave as he arranged the papers that had been used in the meeting. "I'm leaving too." And he passed by his commander, who had focused on other responsibilities in his notebook. To which Tom also had access. The leader nodded his head without lifting his gaze from the notebook. "You can return to your room if you wish, take the afternoon off. I'll call you if I need anything from you." Tom didn't care, at least not until a few hours ago. He had to find a good moment to be able to talk about the photographs. Or perhaps the opportunity would never present itself. As he walked back to his room, he wondered if, besides the photographs, there were many more things he could find, many things about the past.
When the war between them didn't exist, the need for power was not a necessary thing. When what was necessary was a bottle in hand and cigarettes on a clear night. He wanted to believe it wasn't the case, wanted to cling to the fact that they were just some photographs he had forgotten to throw away in the last... ten years. Of course, it couldn't be a coincidence, so he had to quickly erase that option. And the mere thought of it made him nauseous. Damn the fucking mess.
"Are you seriously planning on being a leader? You can't even keep yourself together, Commie!" Tom laughed, pulling the drink away from his mouth. Tom doesn't remember the last time he had called him like that.
Not even when it was night, perhaps already in the early morning. Sitting in the backyard, Tord was taking pictures of Ringo, who was playing with the bugs that appeared because it was the peak of summer, while he held his cigarette in his mouth. It was part of their routine to be next to each other without fighting. Neither Edd nor Matt knew about this, nor did they intend to.
If Tom thought about those memories, they were very distant. He should have thought that Tord, when he talked about his plans, wasn't joking even if he was laughing. He should have foreseen it.
"And we're talking about world domination. It's incredible, your imagination, Tord." Tom rested his head on the wall as he slightly turned his head to look at Tord taking his cigarette out of his mouth and looking at him with a mischievous glint.
"You don't get it enough because you're too drunk, Tom." The brunette gave him a soft hit on the shoulder and that increased the Norwegian's laughter. "Seriously, I will dominate the world and whether you like it or not, you will accompany me." His voice softened as he pronounced the words and his gaze stayed with Tom's for a few seconds longer than expected.
And he did it. Sooner or later, he ended up doing it. He sighed, remembering those nights, those words. But he did it because he needed something from Tord, he needed to be able to destroy him when he had everything. To do the same to him. To make his ego hurt.
He wished he had really gotten drunk when he had the chance to do so. Maybe every memory that his mind replayed every night like a bad movie would have hurt less.
He wanted to believe that he was strong enough like he was before. He wanted to believe that he had the will to do the same to him.
"We should do this more often, don't you think, Commie?"
"Maybe. Sometimes I need to vent about how controlling Edd can be when we go on adventures." He would definitely need something strong to ignore the fact that, because of a few simple photos, he was remembering the past.