Chapter Text
Tom knew he had issues. One of those issues included the bottle of Smirnoff sitting on his nightstand, a constant reminder of his mental state.
He wasn't the most social person, or the most likable; he thought it was crazy Edd let him live with them. He knows Edd doesn't like how Tom treats his other housemates. But that wasn't his fault. Matt is the stupidest person he has ever met. Tom suspects the only reason Edd lets Matt live with them is because he's too stupid to get his own place. Matt had the money for his own place, but lived with Edd and the Tom regardless. If he was Matt, he'd be gone a long time ago.
And then there was Tord. Not much to say, he displayed his problems pretty clearly. The dude looks like he hasn't slept since WWII, and it's possible he hasn't. Tord always smelled like cigarettes and for some strange reason, vanilla. The smell made Tom nauseous. Every time he saw Tord, he wanted to shower and wash his hands fifty times over. Needless to say, Tord was not his friend.
Tom couldn't believe how lucky he was when Tord announced he was moving out. Something about wanting to get a fancy job in a big city, Tom didn't really care enough to ask further.
Edd, on the other hand, was sad after Tord left. Sure, they still went on silly adventures, but Edd's energy drained with every zombie fight or beach trip they took.
It was really starting to bother Tom. He tried his best to comfort Edd, but gave up pretty quickly.
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Today wasn't a particularly special day for Tom. He woke up, pulled on some semi-clean clothes, brushed his yellowing teeth, and dragged himself down to the kitchen.
Edd was silently making bacon and waffles, with Matt standing next to him. Matt, of course, was staring at himself in the toaster's reflection… "What a narcissist," Tom thought as he walked over to the table.
Edd turned and smiled weakly at Tom, something that made him annoyed. Tom hated it when Edd smiled like that. It was obviously fake, and annoying. "Morning, Tom!" Edd said happily enough to fool Matt, but not Tom, who only raised his hand slightly in response.
"I'm making waffles."
"Yeah, I know."
"...Do you want some?"
"Sure." Tom muttered, sighing into the table.
Edd placed a plate of bacon and waffles, along with a bottle of syrup in front of Tom.
He took a bite of bacon as Edd sat down across from Tom. He looked down sadly at the bacon, pushing it to the side with his fork and instead landed on his waffles. Edd shoved a waffle in his mouth and smiled. "Oh yeah," he said with a full mouth. Edd then muttered some incoherent words with a mouth full of waffles.
Tom gave Edd a puzzled look and sighed. "Cool?" He said with confusion. Edd looked exceptionally pleased with his answer and continued shoving waffles in his mouth.
Tom finished his food quickly and put his dishes in the sink, wanting to get out of Edd's sight as soon as possible. He stomped back to his bedroom.
Tom's room was technically Tord's old room, but after Edd turned Tom's room into a pool, he had to move into Tord's. One of the most annoying parts of the room was the smell. It still smelled like Tord, cigarettes mixed with sweat and blood. Only a smell that would be expected from the train wreck Tord was.
Tom hated the stupid smell. It reminded him of all the dumb shit Tord used to do. All of the guns and inventions, not to mention the fan fiction he wrote for Matt about himself.
"God Matt is such a fucking narcissistic, dumbass." Tom thought as he closed the door of the bedroom and laid down on his bed.
He stared at the ceiling, which still had paper planes stuck into it when Tord was still living with them. It pissed Tom the fuck off. He groaned and stood up, teaching up on his bed to tear the paper off.
He gathered the pile of colorful planes and tossed it into the trash. He sighed and sat back down. Tom grabbed his flask from his nightstand and took a few sips.
The next thing Tom knew, it was morning. He didn't even know what day of the week it was. He had slept for that long. He winced and stretched, gaining a small headache.
Tom reluctantly got up and made it halfway through his door before Edd ambushed him with an actual smile. Edd giggled and jumped up and down.
“Let's go fishing! I bought us fishing poles!” Edd laughed happily, shaking Tom by the shoulders. Tom blinked slowly, grow nauseous from the shaking he pushed Edd away and swallowed his vomit.
“Like, right now?” Tom raised an eyebrow. He had plans today. Plans to eat everything in the fridge. He didn't even like fish.
“Do I have to?” He muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Apparently the answer was yes, because Tom was soon shoved into their shared car and driven to a lake.
One thing led to another, and Tom had randomly acquired a harpoon gun. Nice. Edd and Matt had less luck, only catching two small fish.
As they filed into the car, Matt held them in a water filled fishbowl, staring intently at the fish. Or his reflection, whichever was easier to spot. Once they got home, Tom headed straight back to his room, wanting to put away his harpoons.
As he approached his door, he noticed a shadowy figure picking his lock. He pointed a harpoon at the stranger. “Who goes there?!” He threatened, raising a harpoon. To his surprise, the stranger stepped out of the darkness to reveal, “Tord?!” Tom shrieked in horror.
Tord's response was a smirk. Tom suddenly remembered how much he hated that smirk.
Edd and Matt both rushed in, practically shoving Tom out of the way. Edd hugged Tord.
“Tord, you're here!” Edd didn't sound surprised. He must have planned this behind Tom's back. He was furious.
“You knew he was coming?!” Tom questioned Edd with a horrified expression. Edd looked confused.
“Don't be rude. I told you last week he was moving back in?” Edd tilted his head with a smile. Tom realised that was what he was probably trying to tell him the other day.
Tom realised something else.
“Where is he going to sleep?” Tom crossed his arms. Edd shrugged. Tord tilted his head.
“I thought I would just get my old room back.”
“It's my room now.” Tom snarled.
Edd held up his hands. “You can have your old room back, Tom!” He suggested happily.
Tom gritted his teeth.
“YOU TURNED MY ROOM INTO A POOL!!” Tom gestured to the room with his name scratched out.
Tord laughed. “Don't worry, Thomas, we can share my room!” He smiled with all of his teeth. It was creepy. Tom shot a begging look at Edd, who seemed to be taking Tord's side.
“Sounds great! You two can catch up and stuff!” Edd nodded. Matt, who had been staring at Tord with the stupidest expression spoke up. “Who are you?”
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After a day of awful adventuring and cheery background music, Tom finally made it back into his room. He flopped onto his bed and watched Tord as he pressed a button, making a whole new bed appear from a tiny box. It was Tord's signature red. Tom, was sitting criss cross on his own bed, glaring at Tord.
Tord took a deep breath and looked around. “Ah, it's good to be hom-” His eyes fell on the hole filled ceiling, where paper planes once populated it. He slowly looked back at Tom. Tom remained silent, pointing to the trash can full of crumpled paper planes.
“You went through my stuff?”
“...Maybe?” Tom made a gesture that provoked a slap to the face. He winced and crossed his arms, glaring at Tord.
“You wanna play, little bitch?” Tord said with malice. He smirked and stood up, walking over to Tom's nightstand.
With ease, he pulled a bottle of Smirnoff from its hiding place and waved it in the air, teasing Tom.
“Well, well, Thomas. It seems old habits die hard, hm?” Tord snickered, opening the cork. Tom lurched forward and reached out to grab his precious bottle, but Tord pulled away and poured the whole bottle into his trash can.
Paper planes mixed with the liquid and turned soggy.
“What the hell was that for?!” Tom shouted, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. He swung at Tord, missing by half an inch. Tord ducked and laughed.
“You won't be needing that. I like you much better sober.” Tord muttered, but Tom was too upset to hear him.
“You're an asshole! Go fuck yourself!” He pouted, now crouched down in front of the discarded bottle on the floor, cradling it like a baby.
Tord ran his hand through his hair and sighed.
“Don't be a baby, Thomas. It's just a bottle.” Tord rolled his eyes and shoved his hands into his pockets. Tom lunged at Tord.
“FUC-”