Chapter Text
Being the leader of an army isn’t easy, especially not one with such lofty aspirations as conquering and restructuring society from the bottom up. Yet Tord finds himself with an empty schedule often as he recovers from his failed operation. It infuriates him, making him feel pitied by his subordinates, but Yanov insists that since he can’t go out on the front lines, all he has is paperwork and overseeing training- the most boring parts of the job.
He ends up spending the most time on the range, though he hasn’t been cleared to shoot since he’s adjusting to his new arm. It means he can observe how well everyone’s been improving in what is probably the most important part of their job. After all, Pat and Paul are supposed to be his best men, but had trouble hitting slow-moving zombies. Not a great look for any army.
Tord finds what little joy he can in watching others shoot. He talks to Paul as he practices, hiding laughter when Paul’s nervousness makes his shots go wild. Paul has nothing to be nervous about, and yet he still gets jittery when talking to him alone. It’s a little endearing, not that Tord would let him know that.
Pat doesn’t get nearly as jumpy, but it’s still enjoyable to watch him shoot- now that he has contacts, anyway. The man was flying planes when everything was blurry beyond five feet and never realized. Now, at least, Pat hits the mark most times and doesn’t have nearly as much trouble spotting cloudbergs in the distance. The improvement makes Tord nearly proud.
The others of his Red Army? Fine. They all have their own strengths and weaknesses. Tord doesn’t pay nearly as much attention. It’s a big organization now, after all. He has his inner circle of his longest-time believers, Pat and Paul topping the list. Everything else delegated below them isn’t his business unless they blow something up enough for it to become his business.
But Pat and Paul? They catch his attention more often than not. Pat will demand his attention, and occasionally, when he’s ballsy enough, Tord’s obedience on such orders as ‘eat some food, Red Leader, because if you pass out mid speech it’ll be your fault’ and ‘you can’t only drink Red Bull for three days straight, sir, you will die’. Paul comes to him with concerns and ideas- both dumb and surprisingly clever- and the occasional clarification of something that his brain just isn’t piecing together without help.
It’s created a tight bond between the three of them, at least in Tord’s eyes, and he’s come to accept that now. Before, when it was forming, he started sending them on riskier missions- assassination missions, or smuggling weaponry across well-guarded borders. Taking an incredibly dangerous concoction of Tord’s own design into another country’s airspace, leading to a short apocalypse when it crashes. If they were gone, his army would be a little weaker, yes, but the Red Leader would be stronger- no bond to use against him and a chance to get used to more… personal losses.
Yet, each time, they returned, if not in victory, then at least in one piece. He could tell how weak he was, watching Pat care for Paul’s wounded eye and just feeling relief sweep over him that they were alright, despite the suicide mission he designed for them. He gave up on his secret goal then and there, which is good- when he was bleeding out on a hill near his old home, who knows if he would have survived without their interference?
And so now, Tord gives them access to his private quarters in case of emergencies. They check on his well-being, help him test his prosthetic, make sure he isn’t overworking himself to death. In exchange, he’s as lenient with them as he can afford to be.
Tord bursts into laughter when Paul’s shot goes wild the moment he notices Tord’s presence. “Uh- Red Leader, sir-!”
“At ease,” he tells him, which makes Paul realize he probably should have saluted properly, but it’s too late now, so Paul just flounders for a moment. God, he loves teasing him. “Update me on your training.”
“My accuracy is up by twenty percent, sir.”
“Didn’t look like it,” Tord says with a grin. “Show me.”
Paul hesitates, but nod before firing at the distant targets. True to his word, he hits fatally most times. Tord’s grin gets wider.
“Good. Maybe soon we’ll get you back to work on moving targets-”
“Don’t be so cruel to Paul, Red Leader,” Pat says with practiced casual disinterest from behind him. Tord sighs, rolling his eyes before turning to face him- as he expected, he’s holding a binder of papers.
“Not more of that budget stuff.”
“More of that budget stuff,” Pat confirms, and he sighs again, more dramatically.
“But I hate iiit. Can’t we just give all the funds to food and ammo?”
“And leave behind the technology department, the transportation department, the cleaners, your personal lab-?”
“All the funds to food and ammo and my lab.”
“If we downsize on the cleaners, Katya is going to kil- um, be really angry with you, Red Leader,” Paul argues.
“Katya can shov-”
“Sir,” Pat interrupts him again. “Budgets. We just need to make the final decisions. Then after that you can go watch Return of the Zombie Pirates 4,” Pat tries to bribe him. “We still have some of the popcorn left from our last supply run, as well.”
“Return of the Insane Zombie Pirates From Hell 4,” Tord corrects before pausing, thinking it over.
“It needs to get done either way, Red Leader. And if you do it now, you’ll have some more downtime later.”
He doesn’t want downtime. He wants to continue his conquest, starting by crushing the town his old friends live in. Possibly literally crushing it. He’ll decide when he gets there. But by now, he’s used to acquiescing to Pat’s demands. Things do go much smoother when he listens a little. “Ahhh, okay. But you both need to help me.”
Paul nods, holstering his gun, and there was no way Pat wasn’t going to help- also known as ‘stop Tord from screwing the budget so it was only what he wanted’. Not that Tord wanted to screw it up, but bullets seem more important now than acquiring a new plane, or the tech lab’s need for more radioactive stuff. But then, when those things become important again, he’d have to redo the budget all over, so it’s better for them to help him now.
And he really does need both of their help. He organizes the big things, like schemes and plots, but Paul keeps track of morale and what the soldiers need, while Pat keeps an eye on the bigger picture, long-term necessities like medical supplies and the tech lab. Tord would like to throw all his money into a new giant robot, but the soldiers need more bulletproof vests and the lab needs some ingredients to fine-tweak his latest serum, so he needs to allot everything just right so it doesn’t bite him in the ass. And it sucks!
It’s late when it’s done, and Pat takes the finalized sheet out of his hand to distribute to the department leaders as Tord sinks into his chair miserably. “Never again.”
“We’ll have to do it again next year.”
“Never again!”
Pat sighs, though clearly holding back a tired smile. He’s about as wiped as Tord is, from arguing for the past few hours. Paul’s resting his head on Tord’s desk, about to fall asleep if he hasn’t already. “Maybe next year we’ll be able to extrapolate from this one. It would be easier to not have to do it from scratch.”
“Easy is good,” Paul helpfully adds to the conversation. He lifts his head, propping it up with his hand despite his eyelids struggling to stay open.
Pat shakes his head and goes to help Paul up. “Let’s get you back to our room. Red Leader, sir? You should get some sleep soon, too.”
“I was promised RIZPFH 4 and I will-” he yawns. “I will get it.”
“You wouldn’t even be able to stay awake through it. Just get some rest tonight.” Pat doesn’t wait for a response. He keeps an arm around Paul and guides him out of Tord’s office. He finds his tired eyes lingering on the casual touch between them until the door swings shut behind them.
Despite how Tord would consider the three of them close, how he calls them both his right hand men, how important they are in his highly esteemed opinion- they aren’t so casual with him. Which is good. He’s their boss, their leader. But some part of him does think- he wouldn’t mind more pats on the shoulder- his good one, anyway- or just a little more physical contact beyond Pat replacing his bandages. He wants-
He doesn’t know what he wants.
Tord, despite himself, heads to bed after some more lingering around his office. He does, actually, deserve some nice rest for getting that stupid work out of the way. And sleep will get the odd, unfocused feelings he’s too sleepy to analyze laid to rest.
In the morning, he finds that Pat hid his DVD collection- all of it. Even the secret, ah… adult anime collection he had hidden behind a painting in his private quarters. Apparently, Pat decided to remove any temptations to stay up late before he got to his room last night. He’d be annoyed, but this gives him a fun opportunity at (minor) revenge.
Tord hunts him down, finding him at the mess hall for breakfast, eating with the rest of the inner circle. He drops into the free seat beside him, catching Pat off guard. “Uh, sir?” Pat raises an eyebrow. “You don’t normally eat here?”
“Nope. But I also don’t normally wake up to find my movies missing.”
“Ah… I’ll be returning them right after I finish eating,” Pat tells him, before taking another bite of the kitchen’s, frankly, disgusting eggs. He seems used to it, however.
“Yes, you are. And Paul, you’re going to come with us.”
“Huh? Me? Why…?” He immediately looks a little flustered, and Tord has to hide his smile, wanting to sound stern a little longer.
“Because it’s an order, soldier.”
“Oh- yes, sir.” Paul eats a little faster, though Pat stays at the same speed, seemingly unbothered. Tord watches them both, and Paul tugs on Pat’s sleeve subtly when he takes too long. Eventually they manage to get going, Tord following them back to Paul and Pat’s quarters. Officially, they’re officer’s room, meant only for one, but there’s limited space in this base, so a shared room was the best he could offer them. They never seemed to mind.
Tord hasn’t been by here much- maybe only once or twice, right when they first settled down at this base. It looks far more lived in, now- one side mostly tidy, except for an overturned ashtray and a stray pile of clothes. The other side is much more disorganized, and from that side is where Pat pulls out a box filled to the brim. Paul seems surprised to see it- though, if the messier side is Pat’s, it may make sense that he managed to overlook just another piece of clutter.
It’s clearly just a little too heavy for Pat. He shifts it around, trying to find a comfortable way to carry it, but his arms tremble under the weight any way he holds it. Paul tries to help by taking some movies out of it, but when he spies the cover of Lusty Maids 6, uncensored edition, he drops them right back into the box and leaves Pat on his own. Tord huffs- really, neither of them had any business taking anything from that section of his collection- but lets it pass without comment, even though he wants to defend himself.
They manage to make it back to Tord’s room with minimal issue, only having to pause for a moment for Pat to rest. He dumps the box in front of the Tord’s now empty shelves by the television. Tord drops onto the portable couch, pulling his legs up to sit cross-legged. “Now find all the Insane Zombie Pirates from Hell DVDs.”
Pat looks exasperated, but starts filtering through the box, organizing them in the process by putting them in little piles- anime, hentai, ambiguously-rated animation that could go either way, and horror movies. Paul watches over his shoulder curiously, though he doesn’t look at the hentai at all. “All of them, sir?”
“Yup. All of them.”
Pat pulls them out in quick succession. “Are you having a marathon today?”
“We are.”
Pat pauses, and slowly turns to look at him. “I’m sorry?”
“The three of us. Insane Zombie Pirates from Hell, one through four.” He finally lets a smile creep onto his face.
“Sir, we have work to do today-”
“Shame. But too bad. You complain that I work too much or too little, but you only work too much. So today will be a marathon day instead. Just be glad I want those instead of Sexy After School Lessons-” he’s cut off by the disgusted expression on Pat’s face, and can’t help but laugh at him.
“Uh, I was going to-” Paul starts to protest before cutting himself off, surely realizing how convenient this is. He’s so wound up every day, keeping the soldiers together- a break day? Tord already knows it’s absolutely necessary for him. “Of course, sir, whatever you say.” He goes to sit on the couch, too, as far from Tord as possible.
Pat looks between them, clearly realizing that, for once, he’s been outnumbered, before slipping in the first disc and turning on the television. He ends up dropping to the couch cushion between them, though with the way Tord is sitting, their legs brush against each other. Pat shifts a little closer to Paul’s side of the couch- rude- as the menu screen comes up.
“Hold on, hold on,” Tord says, going to make popcorn. Half an hour later, after the fire in the souped-up microwave has been put out, he returns to the couch with what little wasn’t burned to a crisp, and hits play. Pat doesn’t pay much attention to start, more concerned with the singed edges of his bangs, but Tord is drawn right in- the first one sets up the plot for every movie after it, so clearly it’s the best- though the later ones have better effects, and he’s pretty sure that at least one of the extras in the fourth one is based on him, due to looking absolutely identical and even wearing his red hoodie. He especially likes watching the Tom-lookalike get harpooned by one of the titular characters.
But anyway, the first one is great, showing some incredible artistic vision on the creator’s part. He can’t believe anyone came up with some genius. (Then again, he believes the same thing with most of his hentai, and they all tend to follow the same meet-and-fuck pattern.) He doesn’t look back at the others until it’s nearly over.
Somehow, Pat looks bored out of his mind watching this work of art. Frankly, rude, and shows how uncultured he is. Paul, at least, is focused on the screen, but doesn’t seem to be enjoying it, wincing at the gruesome deaths and jokes rather than laughing like Tord is (because it never gets less funny, no matter how many times he’s seen it). This sucks.
“Oh, come on,” he says as the credits roll. “What didn’t you like about it?”
“It’s just like every other monster movie,” Pat answers immediately.
“The jokes were really bad. Did that one zombie pirate really say ‘shanks for the help’ when he stabbed the other guy?” Paul’s almost incredulous.
“Hey, I’ve used that one!” Tord protests. “It’s good!”
Pat and Paul share a pained look.
“Okay, fine. If you don’t appreciate art, we don’t have to watch the other movies,” he huffs. He doesn’t want to have to hear them complain about his favorite horror series. “But we’re watching something else.”
“…sir, are you really sure this is how we should be spending our day?” Pat tries to protest again. “I can understand you take a break day, with your recovery, but Paul and I should be-”
“You should be listening to me. Today is a day off. I’ve ordered it. I have Yuu watching over drills-”
“Wait!” Paul starts stammering. “You- you sent Yuu-? Why him of all people? He’s-”
“Because Yanov is covering Pat’s duties.”
Pat narrows his eyes at Tord. “Hold on, what exactly-”
Tord sighs and turns his body sideways, throwing his legs over Pat and Paul’s laps to trap them. It was a kindness that he didn’t do this at the start of the movie- but he couldn’t find a good excuse. Now he has one. “The base will survive without us for a day. We haven’t even had a major incident since my return! We can just relax.”
“…why are you so insistent on this?” Pat asks, with just a touch of genuine confusion.
He opens his mouth to answer before pausing. Really, the answer is ‘because he wants to’, but that’s not a satisfactory answer. Why does he want to? Well… it was a ‘punishment’ for Pat stealing his DVDs. Except that he didn’t actually mind, and a proper punishment would be closer to extra duties, so he can’t use that either. But why did he think of that punishment…?
“I suppose… nostalgia?” he murmurs, not quite sure- but that seems to be the closest he can come to explaining.
“Nostalgia, sir?” Paul tilts his head curiously.
Being called ‘sir’ in this moment rubs him wrong, just a bit, but he doesn’t mention it. “I suppose staying with my old friends reminded me too much of old times. At least, before they nearly murdered me. Movie nights, video games, wacky antics like being cloned or fighting over the hot girl down the street…” he sighs, remembering the good old days.
“…sorry, what was that about cloni-”
“I suppose I just wanted a taste of that with people I… trust.” Tord says it like it’s been forced out of him, but now it’s out in the world, and Pat and Paul go quiet. This is uncharted territory, at least for Tord- emotional openness is not on his list of characteristics. However, they’ve more than earned his trust in the past few years. And after they saved his life- when he can’t trust that other members of his army wouldn’t have doubts in that moment, wouldn’t have left him to bleed out- he can tell them that.
“Si…” Paul stops, steeling himself. “Tord.” Tord sits up more, looking at him in surprise, but Paul continues on despite his risky move. Any other member of the army would be punished, at best, but- his name sounds good in Paul’s mouth. He’ll let it pass. “I think I speak for both of us when I say that I’m glad to have earned your trust, and if shirking my duties to watch bad movies with you is how I can show that gratitude-”
Pat shoves him, gently. “What he’s actually saying, sir, is that we’re grateful you told us that, and we trust you, too. More than anything.”
“We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t,” Paul agrees.
Tord smiles at them. “Alright. Then what should we watch next?” The menu for their movie had been on loop for at least the past ten minutes, and it was getting annoying.
Pat shrugs. “They’re your movies, sir. As long as it isn’t something we’d have to go to HR for-”
“We don’t have an HR.”
“As long as it isn’t something we’d have to develop an HR department for-”
“No hentai, I get it.” Paul looks about to ask a question, but clearly decides better of it. Tord drops his legs off their laps to go through his discs. “What do you guys even like to watch anyway?”
There’s an odd silence behind him before Pat speaks up. “What do you like to watch, Paul?”
“Shut up.”
“Tell him what kind of movies you like watching, Paul.”
“You’re being mean.”
Tord turns around, raising an eyebrow at whatever this conversation has become. Paul has pulled his turtleneck up to try to hide in it, Pat laughing quietly and trying to tug it back down in response. It’s a gentle sort of teasing, he thinks, with how Paul seems flustered but not upset.
“What kind of movies do you like, Paul?” He joins in on the questioning.
“…romance movies,” he mumbles.
“Romance-?”
“Yes, romance, let’s move on-”
“I like action movies more,” Pat says, helping Paul get the attention off himself. “Though I’m fine with pretty much anything, as long as it isn’t boring.”
“…oh, do I have an anime for everyone to enjoy.” Tord sets up Puella Magi Madoka Magica, and then watches the magic happen.