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It had been a year since the incident
Matt was coping better than any of them. Mostly due to his terrible memory. He hardly remembered the day Tord betrayed all they had made together and destroyed their home. And the affects it had on their lives didn't bother him. He quickly accepted their new apartment and went on his way. But not everyone was coping as well as him.
Edd had been hit hard. Tord was his best friend. He was heartbroken when he had first left to 'pursue his dreams', which turned out to be the forming of his own army. Edd had tried to keep in touch with him but Tord was always busy. He always suspected Tord was intentionally dropping contact by answering the phone less and less until he never picked it up at all. But he never wanted to believe it.
He still had Tord's phone number. He stopped trying to call him years ago. And no way in hell he'd call now. He didn't know why he didn't just delete the thing. But when he tried he just couldn't. It was the last thread he had tied to his old friend.
He had been depressed for a few months afterwards, scared of sudden sounds and easily startled. After some therapy he had been able to loose his depressive streak. He had gotten better. But the affects were still evident in him. He held his friends very close and such a sudden event like this hurt him deeply.
If Edd had been hit hard, Tom had been fucking crushed.
His drinking had gotten a thousand times worse. Every hour of the day he was as drunk as possible. He drank til he was sick and sometimes past that. He just wanted to forget. He blamed himself for it. It was stupid but he just couldn't get it out of his head that this was all his fault. If only he noticed something was wrong sooner. If only he forced Tord out. If only he had been a little stronger. He was weak and stupid and mean and the list went on. But at least the fucker that had hurt them so badly was dead. Or so he thought. He wanted that thought to comfort him but it just made him feel worse. He had killed someone. How was he supposed to live with that?
He was horribly depressed. He wouldn't get out of bed some days and neglected eating and drinking. He spent more hours asleep than awake these days. At least when he was asleep he didn't have to deal with the pain. His deep disgust for himself couldn't be expressed. All he could do was drink and sleep. And on the rare occasion he had the energy to reach for a box cutter he would.
Edd was worried about him. He always looked thin and ill. The only sounds he heard from Tom's apartment when he was awake was drunken footsteps or vomiting. He wanted Tom to get help, to get a doctor or a therapist. This lifestyle wasn't healthy. And it had gone on for so long. Matt insisted, quite optimistically, that Tom would get better. He was strong. He had these bad depressive periods in the past and gotten over it. As time progressed and Tom only got worse, he started to doubt his words.
Tom refused all help, ignoring Edd's worried texts to him and his repeated urges to see someone about this. He said he could do this on his own. But he didn't know how much longer he could live with his own hatred. He didn't know what to do. The numbness sleep brought him was wearing off. He started to get insomnia. He was forced to stay awake and rethink that day over and over. His apartment was a personal hell.
He got tired of it one night.
He got as drunk as he could without vomiting, chugging a bottle of Smirmoff. But even his favorite drink didn't bring him joy anymore. Everything seemed dull. Muted. Everything lost its colors. So what was the point of living if it was just fucking pain?
He felt oddly sober considering how intoxicated he was, the idea of what he was going to bringing him to his senses. He made sure the front door was locked. Nobody should intervene. There was no point to it, anyway. He couldn't be saved now. He made his way to the bathroom, a new bottle in hand. He opened it as he walked, taking a few drinks. He didn't want to drink all of it yet.
He locked the bathroom door behind him and opened the medicine cabinet. Edd had made him get anti-depressants but he never took them. He never thought they'd help him. Guess they were gonna help now.
He took the pill bottle and backed into a wall, letting himself slide down it. How had he gotten like this? Was this seriously how he gonna die? As the punchline of a joke he made way too often? Suicide?
Well, his whole life had been sort of a joke.
He felt tears welling up in his eyes. He was crying. Fuck, why was he crying? He thought about Edd and Matt and how he'd never see them again and how sad the'd be and how horrible he had made their lives and how better off they'd be if he wasn't there and the horrible memories of the day Tord turned on them flashed through his mind-it was too much. He let out a sob as tears rolled down his face. Emotions swirled through him and awful thoughts etched themselves in his mind. He rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve and shakily opened the pill bottle.
Even during this horrible time, he was grateful for one thing.
At least Tord was gone.
Little did he know, Tord had never left.
As soon as he had been taken back to Red Army base, his wounds dressed and useless arm replaced, as soon as he got settled, he went right back out again. He found his friends quickly through a some scrapped documents and a few forceful interrogations. He found them, relatively fine, if a bit scarred in their new apartments. They were still shaken at that point. He sat by and watched as Edd got better. And as Tom got worse. He watched their day to day activities through the windows, never having to actually go inside.
He blamed himself for everything. It was a terrible idea in the first place. How had he expected to take the giant robot without anyone noticing? It was poorly planned and he payed for it. And he was even starting to miss the company of his friends. But he could never go back. Ever. He swore he'd never hurt them again, in any way. The only way to do this was ensure they never interacted. So he had to sit by and watch as Tom sliced at his arms, cringing as blood stained his sheets. Blood neither of the others would ever see. He had to stay silent as Tom threw up and cried and drank himself to death. He couldn't intervene.
How didn't Edd know this was happening? How was he so oblivious? Was he even trying to help? He felt angry at Edd for a while until he realized Edd wouldn't ever let this happen. He must be unaware. But what could Tord do? Jump in there and tell him Tom was a danger to himself? Not likely.
He was watching through the bathroom window as Tom pulled out the pills. He felt sick. He was really gonna do it. He was gonna kill himself. It hurt to watch as he stood still, Tom taking long drinks of vodka, tears running down his face. He bit his lip. He couldn't let this happen. He wasn't gonna let his friend die. Even if he hated his guts. He decided he'd end his vow of silence. He needed to tell someone. He pulled out his old phone and pulled up the call logs.
Edd's name was still at the top. He cringed at the number of missed calls. The guy really cared. He had fixed up his phone after devoting himself to the army, making his number untraceable. He was anonymous. He pressed Edd's name with a gloved hand and held his breath as the phone rang.
Edd and Matt had gone out to a movie a few hours ago, Tom not wanting to come. As usual. He didn't join them in social events anymore. The two were walking to the car when Edd felt his phone buzz in his pocket.
"Hold on." He said to Matt, pulling it out.
"Who is it?" Matt asked as Edd checked the caller ID. "Kind of late for a call, isn't it?"
The caller ID said 'Unknown'. Weird, didn't a phone number usually come up? But he shrugged it off and pressed the button, putting the phone to his ear. Before he got a chance to speak, a voice crackled over the speaker.
"Your friend is going to die."
"Wh-?" Edd said.
"Your friend is going to die. Are you going to help him?" The voice asked. Something about it was familiar. Maybe the accent. But Edd couldn't put his finger on it.
"Who is this? What friend, what do you mean?" Edd was terribly confused. Matt was staring at his worried face. This clearly wasn't a normal conversation.
"Tom. He's going to kill himself." The voice said.
"Tom..? How do you know this? How do you know Tom, why is he going to-?" Edd stopped. "How do I know you aren't lying? This isn't funny to joke about. He really could! You may not even know him"
The man on the other end sighed, watching glancing back at Tom through the window. He had emptied nearly the whole bottle of pills in his hand. He threw them into his mouth. Terror struck Tord and adrenaline started pumping through him. He was running out of time. He started spewing everything he knew about Tom over the phone line to convince Edd.
"Thomas Ridgewell, 23, bisexual, 6'0, diagnosed with BPD, prescribed escitalopram for depression, black eyes, favorite color is blue, best friends Edd and Matt, has a scar on his left arm from..an accident, he's attended the same school as you all your life, what more do I have to say? He's in his apartment right now with pills and a death wish. Are you going to save him or not?" The man was slightly frantic. He was panicking. This wasn't a joke. He really did know Tom.
Edd felt himself start to shake. The phone nearly dropped from his hands. This couldn't be happening. The man was trying to convince him so badly. He knew, somehow, what Tom was doing this very second, and that was an attempt to end his life.
"Matt, we have to go home. Now." Edd said. He grabbed a very confused Matt's hand and rushed him to the car, practically throwing him in and jamming the keys in the ignition. He started to drive, not realizing he was still on the phone. Tord let out a sigh of relief as he heard the car start. He looked back at Tom, who had swallowed the pills and was breathing shallowly on the floor. His friends would make it. They'd be late, but they'd make it. Tom would live.
Edd heard the man's breath.
"How do you know Tom? How do you know what he's doing? And why tell us? How do you even know us?" Edd questioned quickly, swerving through traffic in an effort to get to the apartment.
"Anything for an old friend."
Edd was silent. Something suddenly clicked. The voice, the accent. But it was impossible. He had died, right?
"Tord?"
The line went dead.
Edd and Matt pulled up to the apartment and were met by flashing lights. An ambulance was in front of the apartment, quickly loading someone into it. Edd ran up to question one of the drivers, frantically yelling about Tom and his pills and where he was and why they were here. They said that they knew, someone had already called to report the attempted suicide. Edd fell silent.
Huh.
They followed the ambulance to the hospital and were forced to stay in the waiting room as the doctors tried to remove the pills from Tom's stomach. Edd was a wreck, pacing around and breaking into dry sobs, chewing his nails. He gave up on pacing after 30 minutes and sat next to Matt, resting his head on his shoulder, sniffling occasionally. Matt didn't know how to react in these situations. So he was just silent. Edd blamed himself for not realizing how depressed Tom was getting. For not trying to help more. It hurt that he had really tried this. He suspected Tom self harmed but he never thought it would escalate into something so big.
They were permitted to see Tom after they had finished the procedure, and hour of anxious waiting. Edd buried his head in Matt's chest as they entered the room. Tom was unconscious and looked quite dead, the only indignation that he was still alive being the soft rising and falling of his chest. He was hooked up to various machines and his heart rate was being monitored. Edd could clearly see Tom's arms in the short sleeved hospital gown. They were covered in marks and slashes. It made his stomach turn. He should have helped sooner.
"You're very lucky, a few more minutes and we wouldn't be able to save him. Someone out there is looking out for your friend." The doctor said.
"Yeah." Edd said in a monotone voice. He had a sinking feeling he knew who that person was.
It was two in the morning. The hospital had forced Edd and Matt to leave as they were not immediate family. The ward was silent. Save for boots clicking on the floor. The door to Tom's room opened. He didn't stir, still passed out. Tord walked over to his bed and looked over the body of the unconscious man. A sad smile spread over his face.
"Poor bastard. You really think you could die that easily? After all we've been through, I'm not just gonna let you kill yourself.." Tord felt something wet on his cheek and touched his hand to his face. He hadn't realized but he had started crying. He wiped away at the tears. Crying in front of Tom, even if he was in a dead-sleep, was embarrassing. He chuckled a bit. If only they could see the great Red Leader now.
He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to Tom's forehead. He quickly stood back up. He decided he should leave now before any of the staff realized there was an unregistered guest. He started towards the door and gave Tom one last look. He'd never get him out of his head.