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Maybe in some other universe, it could've worked out. Maybe something could've gone different. Maybe it didn't have to end this way. Maybe, just maybe, if they had been a bit more understanding with each other and tried to get along, their hearts wouldn't be so angry and broken.
His tears burned into the skin of his face as the fire raged behind him. The red glow of it surrounding him and his what-if lover. Red. That cursed fucking color. He hated it so damn much. And he loved it at the same time. It was such a contrast to his signature blue. And yet, he thought it was such a beautiful compliment. He glared ahead at the man standing just a dozen feet away from him. Hot and angry tears continued to rush down his face, his grip on the gun tightening.
His heart was torn into a million pieces and his breath caught in his throat. It had all come down to this. Five years of a toxic relationship and 4 years of broken bottles and venom-laced words all led up to this very moment. Oh, how he hated this moment. He knew it was coming but he wanted to avoid it so bad. He wished things had gone differently. He wanted nothing more than to run into the other man's arms. It broke him even more when he reminded himself the affection would never be returned. Not again. It was too late for that.
Realizing this for the umpteenth time just made him cry harder. His eyesight was already blurry enough. The gunshots surrounding him from soldiers on both sides had been completely drowned out by his own thoughts. So overwhelming. He knew he should just raise the gun and shoot. He had direct orders and he couldn't even complete them. Why did it have to be him? Edd knew how he felt about this damn man.
"Closure," his leader and best friend claimed. His tone had been filled with remorse, but he knew there was no changing Edd's mind with this.
It took everything in him to keep his legs from collapsing. His entire body was shaking and his breath and chest were heavy. He continued to glare ahead, slightly shocked he hadn't been shot already. He knew he had been standing there for far too long. There were so many opportunities, and yet, it seemed the other man was standing just as still as him, his one good eye glossed over. This is when he realized they were both crying.
"Thomas.." he heard the faint, shaken call of his name. Thomas couldn't respond. His mouth opened but no words came out. He couldn't. He didn't even have the words. How could he say his name back? He had caused him so much pain. All he could do was let out a choked sob.
He half-contemplated running into the ring of fire cutting them off from the rest of the battlefield. He wondered if that'd be easier. If the flames or a stray bullet would take him and save him from the pain of this "reunion."
His thoughts were cut off when he felt a hand on his cheek and he was yanked from his thoughts in a panic. Thomas jerked away as he realized how close the other was to him. However, he made no other movements when he felt the hand return. He stood still, motionless. No more tears fell and his breaths were so slow he might as well have not been breathing at all. Be was paralyzed by the same comforting touch that had hurt him so bad. Thomas could feel the panic rising and he tried to swallow it down.
"Thomas... Why are you here?" The voice made Thomas feel so. Safe. and he knew it shouldn't. And he knew the way his former love was looking at him, full of concern, shouldn't make him want to collapse into his arms.
Thomas swallowed hard as he shook his head mentally and furrowed his eyebrows. He smacked the other's hand away and took a step back. "I've been ordered to kill you, Tord."
Tord's eye widened. Then, all concern or care in his expression was wiped from existence and the delirious look Thomas was way too familiar with replaced it. The taller man, all dressed up in his uniform, smiled. A twisted smile that sent a shiver down Tom's spine.
"Oh? You? Kill me? Did Edd really think a pathetic excuse for a soldier could really kill me? After everything that's happened? You couldn't lay a finger on me," Tord spat with a humored tone.
Thomas let a growl out, raising his fist and throwing a punch. He heard the crunch as his knuckles made contact with Tord's face and he watched as the man was sent stumbling back.
"Yes, after everything that's happened. Do you know how much you've hurt Edd? Matt? Me!? You're a sick excuse for a human being, you know that!?" Thomas hissed. Panic was replaced with pure anger. He was so fucking angry. All of his problems - all of the world's problems! - started with Tord. This power hungry freak who got too lucky with meeting too many of the right people.
A laugh erupted from Tord as he brought his hand up, wiping the blood now trickling from his nose. Not that it did much, as new blood replaced the new very quickly. "Oh, what's this? Has my Tommy grown teeth? Come now, darling, you know you couldn't kill me. Just try, I've always been stronger than you!"
Thomas nearly threw up in his mouth, tears filling his eyes again when he heard the old nickname. It was so bitter now. Degrading and full of mockery and hatred every time its said.
"Shut up. I could and I will. I can't let Edd down. Not again," Thomas grit his teeth. He couldn't let Tord win. Too much was at stake.
"Again? How could you let Edd down more than you already have? I mean. Sleeping with the enemy? I'm not sure how much more you could disappoint him. In fact, your death might be a relief for him!" Tord growled. "If I was him, I know for a fact I wouldn't want a moping, victim-playing alcoholic in my life."
At this point he was crying nearly just as hard as the beginning of this entire encounter. Tord wasn't crying anymore, which Thomas was slightly grateful for. He didn't want this to be any harder than it had to be. He watched Tord's movements, just barely dodging when the taller male rushed at him for a punch.
"Sleeping with you was a mistake! I can't believe I ever let myself think you actually loved me!" Thomas yelled, pain so very obviously showing through in his voice.
Tord didn't answer. Instead, he just charged and tackled Thomas to the ground. They both landed with a gasp and Thomas flailed his legs and punched at Tord's chest to try and get him off.
The other was left unphased, but Thomas knew his punches were hurting him. He saw the bruises Tord had after their fights way back then. Still, he was surprised on why he wasn't budging. He looked up from Tord's chest to his face and immediately stopped punching. He stared into the other's good eye, though it was filled with so much emotion he might as well have been looking into Tord's old two. The one's filled with compassion and complete adoration. Thomas felt his breath catch in his throat.
"I did love you, Thomas. I, unfortunately, still do," Tord spoke. He no longer sounded angry. Instead, he sounded how Thomas felt. Hurt. Broken. Lost.
Thomas didn't answer. He just let Tord lean down and kiss him. And suddenly, everything disappeared. As much as it could disappear, anyways. All he could think about was the salty taste of their mixed tears seeping through his lips and onto his tongue, the half chapped and half scarred lips on his, the cold metal hand lifting his head off the ground so the kiss could be deepened. Thomas screwed his eyes shut and lifted one hand to pull Tord closer, never wanting the kiss to end.
He heard the grunt from the other and it encouraged him to let his tongue gently lick Tord's, asking for permission to deepen it. Tord let him in and they kissed like lovers. Real lovers. Like what they were, or what they could've been, once upon a time and in some other reality. Where they were happy. Unfortunately, as Tord pulled away, Thomas remembered that wouldn't happen. He wanted to kiss him again, and he leaned up to do so, but Tord pushed him back down.
"No, Tom. I'm sorry, but that wasn't a comfort kiss," Tord spoke softly, his voice cracking as Thomas noticed his eye welling up with tears. He widened his eyes, realizing what he meant. "It was a goodbye, my darling. Please don't make this harder than it has to be."
Thomas opened his mouth to beg. Beg for one more minute. One more hug. One more kiss. One more moment staring at each other. Just one more minute for him to pretend that everything is okay. All those distant hopes were crushed when he heard the cocking of a gun.
"I really wish things were different, " Tord said in perhaps the softed tone Thomas had ever heard from him. He felt the cold metal of a gun press against his temple. "Jeg elsker deg, Thomas."
Panic set in and he barely registered him grabbing the gun that had landed near him when Tord had tackled him. Nor did he register him putting the gun against Tord's chest or gripping his finger on the trigger. He only registered what he had done when he heard the near deafening ringing in his ears from the shot and the thud that sounded beside him. He stared up the gun in his trembling hand with wide, tear filled eyes. He frantically sat up and looked at the now limp body laying next to him.
"No. No no no no no no," Thomas repeated the word over and over again as he scrambled over to Tord's body. His head throbbed and his body trembled as he placed one of his hands on the bullet wound and the other on his former lover's face which was growing colder and colder by the second. Thomas sobbed, not caring that he was covered in blood right now. He didn't mean to kill him. Not yet. There was so much more to say! Why did this idiot have to go and pull his gun out! Why!?
"WHY, YOU IDIOT!?" Thomas found himself crying out. His shout was drowned out by the gunshots, which he was thankful for. The last thing he wanted was people running through the flames to find out what the sudden yell was about. He didn't want Tord's soldier's finding him over their leader's bodies and shooting him dead. But then again, he kind of did wish that would happen. It'd be so much better than having to deal with the pain he felt right now. It was so much worse than he's ever felt. He didn't want to deal with it any longer.
He sobbed heavily, not knowing what to do anymore. His mission was completed. He got rid of the threat. He saved the world. He saved the world by killing his own, and he wasn't even ready. He moved his hand to grab Tord's, which was still loosely gripping the gun Thomas should've died to. He lifted the hand up and used it to place the gun against his temple. He sobs grew heavier as his finger was placed on top of Tord's. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He counted down from 3.
"3...."
"2...."
"1...."
.....
But death never came. Instead he felt himself being yanked back and another gunshot making his ears ring. His eyes flew open in shock as he realized the gun had completely missed, the hand now laying limp on the ground once again.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, solider!?" A voice yelled in his ear. Thomas looked up but didn't recognize the face. He only recognized Edd's army uniform colors. "Come on, we need to get out of here, there are enemy bombers heading right this way!"
Thomas struggled against the obviously stronger soldier's arms, trying to escape. "No, no, no!! Let me go! I need to stay with him, please!" The soldier's grip didn't loosen. He just kept dragging Thomas away and through an opening in the flames. He heard the calls of other soldiers and the whirring of a helicopter.
Thomas continued to struggle and plead, but to no avail. He slowly stopped as he accepted his fate. And he was so tired. His eyes felt heavy and his head was fuzzy. Everything around him was spinning and his sobs slowed into silent tears. Was this is. Was this where he died? He laughed in his head. Dying from heartbreak. How pathetic. But that was what he was. A pathetic alcoholic who fell for a pathetic excuse for a human.
He went limp as he felt himself being placed down on a mat and some sort of mask being put on his face. This, for some reason, made Thomas feel even more tired, and he knew he didn't have the strength to stay awake anymore. He sighed heavily and relaxed completely.
Maybe in another life time, what-if lover , Thomas thought before finally letting darkness take him.