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Edd's mind has been repeating the day he just went through in his head for the past hour (or so, he didn't know anymore.)
Don't break, is what he told himself when Tord had started acting suspicious, when Tom stormed out of the house that used to be full of laughter and retro video game sound effects. He'd thought everything was okay, Tom would be back. He was just upset at Tord's return, they were rivals after all. He had expected him to come back a few hours later, still broody but willing to accept the change. Everything would be okay in no time, it always was.
Except it wasn't, not this time. This wasn't like their wacky adventures that could be fixed with a time machine (Edd had put more thought into his future self after the incident, maybe he wasn't happy as he hoped he would be.) radioactive superpowers or just a few bullets. This was real.
He had been the happiest when Tord called his phone, called him! He usually only gave him signs of still being alive by short texts messages Edd spammed him various internet memes.
Maybe that was the issue, maybe the cola lover had his head in the clouds too much he couldn't see anything outside of Tord.
He had been so stupid it almost cost him Tom's life.
Tom was against the whole "Tord moving back in" thing from the start ("Don't trust him too much," the void eyed had told him just before he got angry and left. "Everybody changes, sometimes for the worse.") But the two had always held resentment for eachother, nothing was different. Sure, Tord was now more willing to physically injure the other but it was nothing more than a few cat stratches or fish bites. He could excuse it as long as he could see Tord's dusty green eyes. His messy hair that somehow kept its demon—esque look intact. Tord was so much like a dream Edd had forgotten about the real world.
Maybe he was fatally wrong from the start, maybe Tord was off—putting from the moment he stepped into the living room. Matt didn't find anything wrong, too. But Matt isn't exactly the best person to rely on that kind of thing, no offense to the ginger. Tom, he was precautious from the beginning. When was he not alert? The blue hooded was emotional, not that he would admit to it. He was always more level—headed than him and Matt because he knows what being emotional is like. But he had his moments; Edd was the responsible one, he was supposed to be.
Everyone changes, Tom's voice rings in his mind. Edd doesn't want it to, he never did. He never wanted Tord to move away, never wanted their home to feel just a little quieter, the sofa feeling just a little lighter when they all squeezed themselves on it. To feel... incomplete.
Don't break, is what Edd reminded himself when his apartment flat's door clicked open, "Edd?" It's Tom. He feels himself untensing.
"Hey." He lazily grins at him from his new and flashy couch. (He misses the old one, the decade—old gum packages and cola cans stuffed inside the cushions. He misses his home.)
He knows why the other is here, he supposes cracking a few jokes right after a traumatic event doesn't immediately indicate "I'm fine." He also knows Tom isn't very good at this stuff, so he can wait 'til he gives up.
A moment, or two. Tom sighs.
"I'm gonna be honest with you Edd, you look like shit." Wow, thanks a lot, he voices to himself. "Mentally and physically." The green hooded averts his gaze from the other's eyes. (or lack thereof?)
"Do you wanna... talk about it?" Edd shrugs, then breaks the short silence.
"Sorry for uh, basically ignoring you." Tom doesn't answer, not an "It's fine" or a few half—spiteful consoling words. "I was just... excited about him, you know?"
"I got that much, it would be weird if you weren't that happy anyway." Tom replies after a few seconds delay, almost as if also he's fighting the deep thought demons in his own mind.
"I guess so."
Another pang of silence falls between the two friends, Edd's the one to break it again.
"Do you think To— he meant the stuff he said?" One thing Edd learns from this experience is that you aren't able to choose words correctly after practically having the worst day of your life, ever.
"Can't say." is what he gets from the other. "Even though I don't want anything more than to kill him with my own hands, I dont think he truly meant it." Tom thinks, no, Tom sees the smallest light return the cola lover's eyes, it dissipates quickly as it came.
"Even if he's all... bad now, I don't think he meant what he said to you. The commie did stay with us for all those years, and I know he wouldn't have if he didn't like it." Edd inhales, shaking lightly as he does so.
"And he most definitely liked you. So no, I don't think he meant it." The brunette feels tears sting the corners of his vision. Tom may be right, he probably is. The self—deprecating part in him repeats, what would I need friends for? If he truly was as Edd remembers him to be, well, they wouldn't be in an apartment that smells of fresh paint and new furniture. He— they all would be in their backyard (enough of those, thank you. Edd is pretty sure he has the sight of that damned giantmech tattooed at the back of his eyelids or something.) arguing with their lame neighbours.
Right, Jon. Edd almost forgot about it. Not that he'd be able to, not ever erasing the memory of his neighbour losing consciousness in front of him; and he's sure Eduardo feels the same. He should send a card or something. "Sorry my friend who I thought was a good person killed your friend, here's a can of diet cola!" He grimaces when he mentally mentions the sugar—free soda.
"Do you..." The taller voices his thoughts like he's talking to himself and not venting to his equally torn up friend. "Do you think he misses us?" Misses me going unsaid. And despite everything, despite the fact that he replaced him for someone he hadn't seen in years; despite almost leading to his death, bleeding and pathetic in the ruins of his own house — Tom has his back.
"Maybe." Edd feels a few stray tears wet his cheeks.
"Is it bad that I miss him? Despite everything?" He holds in what feels like a wave of tears, he's never felt this small, let alone upset. This usually goes a lot better when he's the one comforting, not being comforted. He feels Tom's hand rub his back, letting him curl in on himself.
"It's normal. Feelings are... weird. Missing him doesn't make you a bad person, it just..." proves you loved him, Edd's brain is working well enough to fill the blanks. He wonders if it's because of the amount of emotions he's went through in a single day, or...
"I loved him." Edd whispers, almost inaudible if the room wasn't in dead silence; not to tell Tom, but to tell himself. And it makes so much sense, like a jigsaw falling into place the brunette questions just how he couldn't come to this conclusion when he first cooked extra bacon for breakfast, when he first pulled an all—nighter watching a low quality film series that he used to dislike.
He had loved Tord, and he's such an idiot.
The other male gives him a look, almost a sad expression but one that says, clear as day. "I know."
Don't break is what Edd could no longer tell himself when he sobs in his best friend's arms until he didn't have any tears left in his system, and he somehow understands. The shorter (the shortest, in fact. Tom always hated his jabs at his... rather inconvenient height) still stays by his side knowing this is all the cola lover's doing, he person who welcomes Tord with open arms, the one who pretended nothing was wrong when his friends were not content. Edd had never considered himself to be emotional, he could've even said he's the last person to cry in the group But somehow, he let his emotions and utterly stupid feelings hold onto him and it cost him, well... everything.
Red was the color of love, to love someone in red that beared nothing of sorts was an upsetting thought.
"Hey, it'll be fine. I know it's... not easy, but you have me and Matt. We'll still have our movie nights, still go on weird adventures, they don't have to change." Don't have to change, he feels himself smile at the words. A glimmer of hope that maybe, maybe things would get better. It'll just take some time for him— for all of them to get used to it.
He doubts the scar deep embedded within his soul by Tord wouldn't heal so easily, if not never. But he had his two dumb friends to help him along the way.
A meow enters the room along with a gray ball of walking fur.
And he had a cat that he had to feed.