Chapter Text
Tord had not forgotten about the reason he’d come here. He didn’t have anyone here to say that to, but he felt the need to go through the one-sided conversation in his head whenever he found himself doing something concerningly domestic. Sure, maybe on the outside it looked like he was getting distracted. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t spend all his time working. There would be plenty of that when he put his plan into motion. In fact, that was all the more reason to take a second to relax now. Taking some time for himself would make him a better worker in the long run. There was some study about that, probably. Besides, he had to act like everything was normal. So it was actually beneficial to his mission for him to be spending the evening watching TV with Tom.
“Hey Tord?”
“Yeah?” Tord was pulled back to reality by Edd’s voice from the kitchen. Edd was looking at him over his shoulder as he tended to something on the stove. It smelled good; beef, maybe? Tord hadn’t gotten a good look at it yet.
“Could you go see if Matt wants any dinner? I gotta watch this.”
“No problem.” He wasn’t too invested in what was on TV, anyway.
The sound of sizzling slowly faded as he meandered down the hall. Matt hadn’t been out of his room all day. He actually hadn’t been in the best state all week. Didn’t show himself much, didn’t say much when he did. He looked tired — no, that wasn’t quite right. Preoccupied was a better word for it. That was normal for someone like Tom, but Matt? The house had been unnervingly quiet in his absence.
Tord wanted to believe that it was just Matt getting particularly invested in one of his craft projects, as had sometimes happened before he’d left, but something in his gut told him that that wasn’t the case. He’d asked Matt what was going on the other day, in a fit of particular curiosity. When he’d finally gotten Matt’s attention, which itself had taken a few tries, Matt hadn’t given him much of an answer before scurrying away. Just said that he was tired. Tord knew that lie too well to be fooled for even a second. If it had been a project, even a surprise, Matt would’ve at least been happier. Tord was certain of that. He didn’t know what to make of it. He didn’t appreciate Matt hiding things from him.
Well, he was about to talk to the guy again. Good a time as any to get to the bottom of this. He paused on the stairs under Matt’s bedroom and knocked on the wall.
“Matt?” he called. No answer. Tord took another step and popped his head above the floor. Faint orange light from the setting sun came in through the window on the far wall and crawled over the sentimental trinkets and general mess that covered almost every surface. Matt’s bed was empty.
Hm.
He looked over to the other door in the room, the one that led to Matt’s “studio”. No light came from underneath it, but he must’ve been in there. That or the bathroom. Tord was pretty sure he hadn’t heard Matt come down the stairs, though, and he’d been in the common areas pretty much all day.
He took the rest of the stairs two at a time and padded over to the door. He knocked again.
More silence.
Maybe he should go check the bathroom. Then again, Matt could’ve just fallen asleep at his desk. If that were the case, he’d want to be woken up.
Slowly, quietly, Tord turned the knob and opened the door. Matt’s studio was just as dim and quiet as his bedroom. Immediately, he saw Matt sat at his desk, silhouetted by the light from the window. The second Tord laid eyes on him, Matt swung around. Tord flinched back.
“Matt?”
Matt silently stood from his chair. Tord tracked his eyes as he moved, if for no other reason than they were the only things he could see well enough to track. Despite the darkness, they gleamed like the red laser sights he’d put on some of his pistols.
Red?
He realized he’d been squeezing the doorknob only when his grip loosened. Why the hell was he freaking out? It was just Matt. Get a grip, man.
“Come here.” Matt finally spoke. He didn’t sound tired anymore.
“Uh, sure. Do you need help with something?” Matt didn’t answer. That was probably what he’d meant, though. He held Matt’s eyes as he approached. When they were about a foot apart, Matt reached out and grabbed his biceps. Matt’s grip strength sure had improved while he’d been gone.
“Hold still.”
“Alright.” Matt’s eyes crept closer, his silhouette slowly filling Tord’s vision. “Oh, Edd wanted me to ask about-”
“TORD!” Edd’s voice hit Tord like a brick, and something changed. Tord barely had enough time to turn his head before he was grabbed from behind. He yelled as Edd ripped him away from Matt; from alarm, and from a sudden searing pain where Matt had been holding onto him. Edd pulled him close and practically carried him out of the room, slamming the door behind them. As soon as they stopped moving, Tord thrashed against Edd's infuriatingly iron grip.
“Edd, what the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“Sorry, sorry!” Edd turned him around but still held him tightly by his shoulders. “Did he bite you?”
“I- no? What is happening?!” As he spoke, his brain cycled through the events of the past minute or two. It was clear but fuzzy all at once — like a weirdly vivid dream. He’d opened the door, seen Matt, and entered the room. Matt had wanted help with something. Or… had he actually said that? He hadn’t. Why had Tord been so sure he needed something? Two red dots burned behind his eyes like hot coals. Matt’s eyes had never been red. He looked down at his arms. His sleeves were torn through and stained with blood that he could feel trickling toward his wrists. His gaze returned to Edd's terrified face. His otherwise brown irises were rimmed with a green glow not too different from what he'd seen in that room, though far less potent.
“It’s a lot to explain.”
“Summarize, Edward!”
“Fine, Matt’s part vampire and he probably hypnotized you!”
Despite the adrenaline still flooding his system, Tord stalled. A million questions lurched into his throat at once, and he struggled to get his brain to focus and his tongue to make coherent words. After a few uncomfortable moments, he was able to force some out. “How long has he been like this?”
“Uh…” Edd finally released Tord's shoulders. On a different occasion, Tord might've been concerned about bruising. The power Edd's voice had just a few seconds ago left completely, and it came out tight. “Forever, I guess? It’s- it’s kind of personal to him, I was hoping he’d tell you himself. I’m so sorry, this never should’ve happened, I just thought he’d’ve taken care of it by now. God, he always fucking procrastinates!” He took a breath. He looked like he was about to cry. Tord prayed that he didn't. “I’ll stay and keep the door shut. Go tell Tom what’s going on, he can get something from the grocery store." His eyes flicked over Tord's shaking body. "Can you do that?”
Tord stood dumbly while his blood soaked further into his sleeves. All of those questions he had were still there, fighting desperately for purchase. Now wasn't the time. Edd probably wouldn't give him the answers he wanted, anyway. Knowing that made frustration sear the base of his skull. He swallowed all of it and nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”
His legs wobbled dangerously as he rushed down the stairs, complementing the sensation of lightheadedness that had appeared when Edd had snatched him out of Matt’s arms. Hopefully none of it was from the blood loss that was still happening. He made it onto the steadier ground of the hallway and ran toward the living room. At least his sweater was already red, the stains would be a little more forgiving. But it was torn too. Matt could fix that if he asked nicely. A nauseating sensation of being watched made his heart squeeze.
Oh god, he’d almost died.
Everything he’d worked for, years of labor, all nearly undone. By Matt. Of all fucking people. It felt a little mean to say, but it was true. He’d known about Tom’s monster thing for a while, so he’d been prepared for that. Then he learned that Edd had went and gotten himself superpowers while he’d been gone; not ideal, but they were residual and Edd liked him too much to use them against him. Matt was supposed to be the normal one; the predictable one.
What the hell had he gotten himself into?