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Honestly, Tord really thought he was going to be killed on the spot. His fr- ahem, ex- friends, probably hated him. Yet here he was, walking up to the apartment in which Edd, Tom, and Matt currently lived. Tord's face was bandaged up on the right side, and his right arm, the now robotic one, was covered by the black overcoat and gloves he wore. Underneath the coat Tord wore his usual red hoodie.
Tord hadn't even began to enter the apartment complex, opting to just awkwardly stand out in front of it and stare blankly. Certainly he was expecting and prepared for rejection, hatred, even a good deck to the face, but Tord couldn't say he was looking forward to it.
What if they still hated him?
Who was he kidding? Of course they hated him, even he hated himself. The event was probably still fresh in their minds. Hell, it had only been two months, fifteen days, four hours, and forty-five minutes since he had blown up their house, told Edd he wasn't their friend, and ended up getting shot at by Tom’s harpoon gun. But hey, who was counting?
Oh god, why was he doing this?
Because he felt guilty.
At least if he was murdered on sight he wouldn't have to put up with those stupid psychiatrists, and physical therapists Patryk and Paul kept assigning him. Technically, if his watch was correct, Tord was supposed to be in a physical therapy session five minutes ago. He personally, thought the therapists were all do-gooder Crack-Pots and kindly told each of them exactly that. Patryk said this was “rude”.
Tord had tried to convince Paul how ridiculous physical therapy was, but the man had said simply that people don't recover from injuries and amputations like his overnight.
When Tord had originally suggested going to see his ex-friends, Paul and Patryk decided it might not be a good idea. Stupid mother hens, always worrying about his “well-being”. If Tord got killed it would be his own damn fault for sneaking out.
The Norwegian entered the lobby of the apartment, swiftly walking past the clerk and entering the first elevator he saw, pressing the “floor six” button. Edd, Tom, Matt, and their old neighbors, all resided on floor six of the apartment building, doors individually labeled, according to his source.
The elevator ride up was agonizingly slow, as the elevator itself was one of those older, barely fits four people, creaky, machines that can barely function on its own.
It gave him just enough time to feel the waves of indecision and guilt rising up, making his stomach ache.
He planned to visit each of them individually, as seeing them all at once would be more than he could handle. What order he'd go in was undecided, but he was looking forward to speaking to Tom and Edd the least.
Oh god this was a bad idea. He should just go back to the Red Army base, apologize to Paul and Pat, and never go outside again. Yep, that was a good plan, bury yourself in your shame Tord.
Ding.
The elevator doors creaked open, moaning about the movement, revealing Tord to the hallway. Or rather, the three people in it. Those people, of course, being Matt, Edd and Tom.
“I'm just saying, if birds could-” Edd's speech halted as he saw Tord. Freezing, both Tord and Edd continued to make direct eye contact with each other.
Matt and Tom followed Edd's line of vision, and stared at the man previously thought dead, in the elevator. The extra stares were more than enough to break Tord out of his daze, and frantically start pushing the button on the elevator to close the doors.
Tom glared at the offending man, and started making his way down the hall, pulling a bottle of some kind of alcohol out his front hoodie pocket.
Tord paled, and Matt started coming down the hall as well.
“Please work! Work! Close, goddamn it!” At this point Tord was practically punching the “close” button on the elevator, which was ever so slowly starting to close the doors.
Matt reached the elevator first, shoving his hand in-between the doors, making the stop moving and open up. The Norwegian stepped back, flattening himself against the other end of the elevator.
Tord winced, and awkwardly waved at the ginger who was now fully seen by Tord, as well as a very pissed off Tom.
The last thing he saw before he blacked out was Tom angrily come at him with the end of a half-empty Smirnoff bottle.
--
When Tord woke up, he was surrounded by darkness, and a mixture of the smell of dust and vodka. He was also in an awkward position due to lack of room, that resulted in him sitting on his left arm, knees tucked into his chest, his head resting on top of them.
Correction, Tord smelled like vodka. In fact, he reeked of it. Guess Tom hadn't thought to empty the bottle before he whacked Tord with it.
Speaking of which, Tord now had a killer headache.
Audibly groaning, he went to reach for his cellphone with his right hand. Except, it wasn't there. His entire right arm was missing. Again.
Tord's chest tightened. He didn't have his arm. Attempting to stand up, Tord hit his head on a shelf above him. Well fuck.
Was he in a closet?
That would explain the cramped interior, and why he could smell dust. Had Tom and Matt kidnapped him? Tord groaned again, this time, more in annoyance than pain.
“Shush! He's awake.” That sounded like Edd. “Tord? Its Edd,” Yup. Definitely Edd. “I wanted to ask-”
“Why the fuck are you back?”
“Tom!”
“Edd!”
“Matt!”
“Matt why did you say your own name?”
“All the good ones were taken!”
Tord coughed.
“Alright, why am I trapped in this closet and can I have my arm back?”
Tom laughed, but it was slightly muffled by the closet door.
“You're in there because we don't trust you, and no, you can't have your arm back. Or your cellphone. Or your gun.”
Damnit.
“Tord,” Edd began again. “Why did you come here?”
Well shit. Here was his opportunity to either apologize, or come up with some great lie to make them let him out.
Tord went with the first option.
“To apologize.”
Tom laughed at him again. “Wow who knew the commie actually had a heart?”
Although Tord couldn't see it, he was certain Tom was making that smug, shit-eating face of his. Tord scowled.
“I'm being honest. I really am sorry.”
“Bull, fucking, shit.”
Tord sighed, honestly he didn't blame Tom for not believing him. He wouldn't believe himself either.
“Tord, if we let you out of the closet, will you actually tell us why you're here?” Edd asked patiently.
“I already did.” The Norwegian replied.
Matt spoke up next.
“Guys what if he is actually sorry?”
“Well than by all means, let him out and trust him but I'm not doing shit. ” Tom spat.
“Tom, please be nice.” Edd pleaded.
Rolling his eye, Tord positioned himself so that he could move his left arm, and checked to see if still had his watch.
He did. And it had been exactly an hour and fifteen minutes since he left Base.
“Look,” Tord interrupted the other three's bickering again. “I know I fucked up.”
“Wow such a startling conclusion. You come up with that all on your own buddy?”
“Shut up Tom. I fucked up, I hurt you guys, I got myself hurt. I fucked up a lot . I'm a horrible human, and a waste of space. I know I'd be better off dead under that robot debris.”
Edd gasped, Tord continued.
“But please hear me out, because I’m sorry. And if you never want to see me again, I’ll leave without a second thought. I didn’t come for forgiveness, and I don’t deserve it, I came to apologize.”
Sighing, Tord rested his head against the closet door. And then fell flat on his left side, face colliding with the floor. Someone had opened the door. Instead of getting up, Tord proceeded to continue lying, now face down, on the floor. Edd was holding the door, light tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. Seeing Tord lying on the ground, not making any attempt to get up, the green hooded man started to snicker, soon erupting into full blown laughter. This of course caused Tord to blush bright red, and join in the laughter. Matt and Tom stared at the spectacle, and also began to cackle. After calming down, Matt helped the Norwegian up on his feet. Tord awkwardly brushed himself off, and was then punched in the face by Tom.
“Now we’re even.” Tom said simply, as he passed Tord his things back.
Tord attached his robot arm, and threw his gun and phone back into his hoodie pocket. Afterwards, Edd grabbed Tord by this functioning arm, and pulled him into the warmest hug Tord had ever received. Edd also grabbed Tom and Matt, and the four found themselves in a giant pile.
“I hope your here for good this time.” Edd laughed.
“I hope so too.” Tord whispered, just loud enough for the others to hear.