Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Two shadowy figures crouched in the bushes across from a small house with a red roof with a pair of misshapen binoculars. The moon was high and the street was silent as they whispered and peered into through the houses windows, lights still on.            

“Which one is it again? All these humans look the same. I can’t tell.” The voice was hushed but barely human and resembled the tittering of a bird.

“The one with gravity defying hair. Positive.”

“Sir, I’m fairly certain they all have gravity defying hair.”

“The short, brown haired one in red.”

“Ah, the one with the horned hair. You could have just said that, sir.”

“Horns? I thought they looked more like ears… But yes that one. It will be a relief when we take care of this and get off this planet. All this water is frankly terrifying.”

“I agree sir. We’ll be gone tomorrow.”

Things were decidedly not going as smoothly as Tord hoped. He had planned to snag the robot and leave this hovel at least two days ago. But something always kept popping up: “Hey Tord wanna play this new game with me? Like old times.” “Hey, Tord I found a thing! Oh man, I’m sorry about your shirt. I can clean it!” “Hey asshole, keep your hentai on your side of the room.”

It didn’t help that the damned Jehova was keeping his eye… er holes on him at all times. When he first arrived it seemed as though Tom would willingly leave, and storm out. It would make Tord’s job easier at least but nope the damned bowling ball stayed. For Edd and Matt. Now, he was being sucked back into this cycle of whacky adventures and bullshit. Tord was past all that. He had an army. An entire operation to run! People feared him! He was THE Red Leader!

But it was difficult to feel like anything more than just a short grumpy kid as he tried to eat his delicious bowl of Eddsworld Cereal™. It would be good if it didn’t make the milk taste like Cola and puffs weren’t turning into mush.

“Morning Tord,” Edd said, shuffling in with a yawn. “Want any bacon?”

Tord couldn’t help perking up at that. “Yes,” he said eagerly, pushing the bowl away and nodding.

“Great! I’ll make some. But if you steal any of mine I will fight you for it,” Edd smiled as he pulled out the frying pan and dammit Tord couldn’t help but smile back.

This was part of the problem. He was getting sucked into all these old memories of living here, fighting zombies, shooting clones, going to hell etc. Tord couldn’t get caught up in it. Which is why he was getting the robot and leaving today. No matter what. He even had a bag packed already, hidden under his bed along with a number of guns. Just in case.

“Hey, Edd. Hey, Lolifucker.” Tom shambled in, looking dead to the world.

“Morning Tom!”

“Don’t call me that. Dick.” He didn’t even like loli so ha.

Tom gave some unintelligible groans back as he dragged himself to the coffee pot. His hair was more of a wreck than normal and his rumpled blue hoodie and jeans indicated he fell asleep in his clothes again. The smell of vodka and cheap tobacco clung to Tom like Axe body spray clung to a 13-year-old boy.

“Bacon?” Edd offered.

“Nah,” Tom replied, sipping at his black coffee and glaring at Tord over his mug. “I’m good.”

“What?” Tord challenged, reclining in his the chair, and smirking at Tom. It was far too easy now to get a raise out of him and two of them would often times start the morning with a shouting match over something simple like milk. “Something wrong my friend?”

“I’m not your friend,” Tom snapped, pulling out his flask from his hoodie and taking a swig. It was a wonder he was even coherent at all. “Where is Matt?” Evidently, he had chosen to ignore Tord now.

“It is only 9:00,” Edd said checking his watch. “He has another hour before he is done with his beauty sleep.”

Both Tord and Tom snorted derisively and then glared at each other. Edd gave a knowing smile as he turned over the bacon, watching it snap and sizzle.

It is all par for the course. This was his routine the last few mornings. Tom pours himself a cup of coffee and dumps four packets of sugar into it as Edd sneaks a strip of bacon. Tord just flips through his messages, keeping in touch with Patrick and Paul. He let them know last night that today was the day and their asses had better be ready to go just in case.

The doorbell rang out through the house, the tree of them glancing toward the door all at once.

“Tord’s got it,” Tom said flatly, not looking up from his newspaper. What a loser. Still reading newspapers.

Regardless he got up and looked through the peephole in the door. Oddly enough it was two men in hats and trench coats, their faces and hands obscured. They were tall, almost out of sight of the peephole. They screamed trouble in a get up like that so Tord was wary.

“We’re not buying anything!” Tord called through the door. “And if you’re Jehova’s Witness we’ve already got one thanks!”

He watched the two shadowed figures converse with each other quietly through his bubbled lens. One finally shrugged and pulled out a… oh shit.

Immediately, Tord scrambled away from the door, throwing himself onto the floor as the door was blasted off its hinges. As he shielded himself from falling door parts he could hear a “holy fuck” from the kitchen.

“Tord Larsson?” A weirdly robotic voice asked. Tord turned to see the two men in their large oversized hats and coats standing over him with the fucking laser gun pointed at his chest.

"FBI? MI6? UN? CIA?" Tord ran through a number of options in his head because clearly someone had found him out and was here to take down Red Leader. He had done a number of illegal things that could have put him on everyone’s list frankly so yeah he was boned.

“No?” he tried and for a moment the men were a little taken aback as if they bought it. Edd and Tom ran into the living room, mouths open in shock. Tord tried to crawl away as the men were momentarily distracted.

“Tord?!”

The men whirled back at Tord who was halfway to the stairs. Wonderful. Thanks, Edd.

“Tord Larsson. You are under arrest for illegal genetic experimentation and unauthorized DNA collection from dangerous species.”

The men took off their hats and oh… these definitely were not men. Three large spherical eyes, stacked like a pyramid blinked down at Tord like massive red marbles. Their skin was white like a clean sheet of paper with dark veins marbling their skin like blue cheese. They completely lacked mouths and ears. How could a trilby and a trench coat hide all that?!

“Aliens again?!” Edd cried out, picking up a chair from the kitchen.

“Again?!” Tord echoed, throwing a dented doorknob at one of them, before trying to make it for the stairs. One got his spindly long fingers in his hood until Edd knocked it in the head with the chair. It rounded on Edd, clearly ready to thrash the pun-loving guy, until Tom straight up punched it in the jaw.

“Genetic experiments?!” Tom shouted, kicking the same one in the stomach.

“I’ve been busy!” Tord bolted up the stairs, frantically hunting for his backpack. If he had aliens coming for him for his crimes then it was time to get back to his proper base. Aliens were something he absolutely did not account for. He grabbed the backpack from under the bed, stuffed a gun down the back of his pants and fled out the door.

As he ran down the hall, pack slung over his shoulder, Matt peeked out the door, grumpy and sleep in his eyes. “What is going on?” he asked.

“Aliens are here to arrest me,” Tord replied, heading for the window at the end of the hall and hopping out of it.

“Oh cool… cool… wait what?” Matt’s door flung all the way open as Tord shimmied down the roof. There was fighting going on downstairs so he hoped Tom and Edd would be a good enough distraction for him to disappear. He wasn’t going to lose his robot to aliens so he would have to come back for that. The only issue is that the second his feet touch the grass in the backyard, Tom goes hurtling through a window and onto the lawn.

“Lame,” Tom groaned, facedown in the grass. He lifted his head, nose bleeding over his lips and dripping thickly onto the grass. A dented golf club is off to the side, having been thrown out with him.

“Tom! Tord!” Edd called from the living room somehow stuck the wall. Tord can see him struggle and try to peel himself off the plaster but whatever they’ve done he is stuck good.

The weird alien things are encroaching on Tord and Tom now, one looking thoroughly smacked around by a 9 iron judging by the stark bruises and clutching of his ribs.

“You will be further charged with resisting arrest by an officer,” one snapped while the other tittered angrily; whatever it was that allowed it to speak English was clearly broken.

Realizing that running and hiding was out, Tord reached for his gun, bringing it level with the alien’s third eye when the other reacted faster than he could blink. The gun went flying from his hands and his fingers jammed in the trigger painfully. He gave a furious cry when the back of a large white hand came across his face with a crack and his vision went dark.

Whatever it was that held Edd to the wall faded as his friends were being dragged away. Matt came thundering down the stair in a purple bathrobe, giving a shrill scream at the mess. Edd gave a tremendous push against the wall and fell at Matt’s bunny slippers with a thud.

“Edd what is going on!?” Matt squealed looking out the broken window. The two watched as a spaceship smaller than the one that the vain aliens had flown up, rustling trees and sending grass clippings into the living room. Edd and Matt ran out into the backyard as the engines revved and the small ship blasted off, zooming up and out of sight into the blue sky.

“Edd?!” Matt cried, frantic looking back at his friend. “Did aliens just take Tord?!”

“Not just Tord!” Edd answered, glaring at the sky. Matt gasped, hands flying to face in horror.

Slowly, Tord became aware of a strange humming sound and was roused into consciousness. Tord regretted opening his eyes and slammed them shut against the bright lights above him. His brain pounded against the inside of his skull and he grits his teeth against the pain. He could taste blood on his lips, probably from when the alien backhanded him across the face. “Went down like a bitch,” he thought bitterly, as he checked for missing teeth with his tongue. His hands were securely cuffed behind his back.

He coaxed his eyes open, fighting the sharp pain off, and tried to get his bearings. His mouth fell open as his eyes adjusted. He was in space. The giant glass window in front of him gave a perfect view of a distant Earth surrounded by the vastness of space that was getting smaller and smaller every second. He felt like he was going to puke.

“Oh shit,” he breathed. Hazel eyes looked around frantically trying to find his gun, his backpack, or anything when it fell on a bulky blue hoodie on his left. His eyes flicked up and it took him a moment longer than it should have to realize there was someone in that hoodie slumped on the floor. "Double shit."

Chapter Text

“I hate everything.”

Despite his current set of circumstances, that was usually Tom’s first thought whenever he woke up. Either due to a raging hangover or his loud roommates waking up was a chore. Things were a lot easier when he was asleep and dreaming about setting fire to Christmas trees.

As he opened his eyes though and tasted iron in his mouth he recalled being pistol whipped by a laser gun and he amends his first thought. “I hate outer space, ” he groaned, wanting to rub at his temples but his hands refused to budge. He tugged against his restraints, the cuffs bolted to the wall behind his back. He sagged against the metal. No good. Damn.

He wasn’t drunk enough for space again. He was very drunk the first time he got abducted and he certainly wasn’t drunk enough to be in space with Tord. He finally acknowledged the hentai-freak on his right who was just sitting there, glaring at the opposite wall. Tom noted Tord backpack hanging there, red star on the front pocket of the green fabric.

“Unless you’ve got psychic powers I don’t think it’s going to do anything,” Tom quipped.

Tord turned and glared at him. “I’m. Thinking,” he snapped.

“Oh, good glad to hear that something other than hentai goes through your brain.” Tom let his head fall back against the metal wall. He would kill for a bottle of Smirnoff right about now or at least his flask. Hell, he’d take another solid blow to the head at this rate. Maybe if he banged his head hard enough on the wall…

“Piss off, you Jehova. Why are you even here? They came for me not you.”

“Apparently beating the space police with a golf club counts as assault.” The one he wailed on evidentially took a blow to the ego too because Edd hit him with a chair but they just stapled him to the wall. To be fair Tom did most of the damage until he got tossed through the window. He didn’t regret it though. The alien looked like he was going to tear into Edd like tissue paper.

“Maybe you should have used a wooden bat,” Tord muttered.

“Was that a fucking Signs reference?”

They went silent, the hum of the ship flying through space and the muted alien chatter in the cockpit the only other sound. Their holding cell was cramped and Tom was reminded of his few trips in the back of a police cruiser. He huffed in frustration; feeling like the walls were closing in and a familiar tingling feeling ached in his skin and bones.

“What were you thinking about?” He asked, desperately trying to distract himself. He almost wrecked a city the last time he let it take over.

Tord glanced at Tom before looking back down. “I’m trying to figure out what I’m being arrested for. I’ve done a lot of things- shut up ok not important- but I can’t think of what I could have done to offend a distant space government I didn’t know existed.”

Was it hot in here or was it just him? Tom couldn’t tell.

“Ok, so I figure you have a long list of things you’ve done.” He breathed slowly through his nose. “Nothing involves genetic experimentation and collecting DNA from aliens?”

“I’ve never even left Earth. I mean… I’ve had ideas…” Tom gave Tord a look for that one. “But I haven’t actually done anything with it.”

“You’re into weird shit even for a hentai loving communist,” Tom scoffed. This was familiar. Snapping and trading barbs with Tord somehow made him feel better. Grounded despite being in space sans alcohol.

“Shut up. I have a healthy scientific curiosity.” Tord wiggled his hands around as if testing the cuffs.

“Bullshit. Your curiosity almost killed me once.”  

“That was your own damn fau-“ Tord’s eyes suddenly went wide as if something just struck him across the face. He looked around the cell wildly, as if checking that no one was there and then stared hard at Tom, mouth open. His face was ashen. Tom was actually almost concerned for a second.

“What?” Tom pressed.

Tord flinched. “Nothing.”

It had been before Tord left. Honestly, he had completely forgotten about it.

It was late on a Friday night and Tord probably should have been asleep but he was finalizing his blueprints on his greatest invention. A giant fucking robot. Because why not? He knew he could do it and he itched to get started on it. Sleep plucked at his brain and he yawned as he checked his calculations again when his door slammed open. Tord almost leaped out of his skin as he spun his chair to see Tom in the doorway.

“Tom what the hell?!” Tord said, trying to keep his voice hushed. “It is 4 am-“

Suddenly, Tom was in his space and dragging him up by his collar, face to face. Tom was swaying on his feet and his breath was stale and stunk of his usual vodka. He must have drowned himself in the stuff because he looked pale and green around the gills. Saliva dripped from his mouth in ropey strings.

“Stop puttin’ yer science shit in the fridge,” he groaned, words slurring. His empty eyes had a hard time focusing and… Tom dropped Tord’s collar and fell to his knees, puking on the floor.

“Tom?!” Tord exclaimed, shocked, watching the hunched over man. “D-Did you drink my experiment in the fridge?!”

“F-fuck you.”

“I clearly put a note that said to not drink it!!”

“That is what people write when they don’t want someone to eat their leftovers!” Tom dry heaved, before continuing. “You should have written “fucking poison” on it and not put it in a soda bottle!”

Tom was falling apart and dying before Tord’s very eyes. If he didn’t get him to his lab where he, theoretically, had the cure Tom would die of respiratory failure. Swearing, he threw Tom’s arm over his shoulder and pulled him along.

By the time Tord made it to the door of his lab Tom was a bulky dead weight and he struggled to drag him in. He dropped Tom at the entrance, flipped the light switch and frantically hunted for his prepared cure. It would be incredibly problematic if Tom died. Explaining that to Edd would be a nightmare.

He finally unearthed the syringe from a drawer, ran over to Tom, rolled his sleeve up and injected it into his arm. When plunger pushed all the liquid in Tord held his breath. After a moment Tom’s tremors slowed and finally halted and his breathing evened out. Tord fell back on his butt, relieved yet pissed that his experiment was ruined just because Tom was a dumbass. The drunkard would likely be out for a while so Tord left him on the floor to clean up the draw he had rifled through.

He probably should organize some of these drawers because they were a mess. As he put things in order his heart stopped. The cure was still in the drawer, seal intact and yellowish liquid inside. It was even clearly labeled with the experiment number.

He held up the empty syringe and… oh. This was a serum made from DNA. Some very particular DNA. DNA he gathered from a dead giant monster out in the woods months ago. He had planned to inject it into a lab rat and record the results, hoping it might have interesting effects. It was just a side project really.

“Son of a bitch,” Tord muttered, glancing at Tom still passed out on the floor.

Tord kept an eye on Tom for weeks after that, carrying a notebook around to record any changes. He didn’t know what to expect really. The DNA could do something Spiderman like or Tom would just drop dead. But other than initially curing Tom’s poisoning nothing happened. That was even more disappointing. The accidental experiment was concluded to be a bust and long after Tord left to form his army and didn’t think about it again.

Until he was in the back of an alien space ship for it. He felt sweat prickle on the back of his neck and he ignored Tom’s concerned expression. He probably wouldn’t look so concerned if he knew that Tord had injected him with genetic material from a random monster. An alien it would appear. This raised a million more questions the flew around his head all at once.

“Tord, seriously, you look like you’re going to pass out,” Tom said. “Care to fill me in?”

He shook his head. “I figured out why they’ve arrested me,” Tord said slowly, face feeling hot. “Tom, I need to-“

A door hissed open and the two jumped as the uninjured alien stepped out. They held a staring contest with those bright fish egg eyes for a moment until it approached Tord. It held a chrome pistol filled with fluid up and Tord glared at the creature.

“Don’t you dare touch me wi-“ Tord was cut off by the device being pressed into the back of his neck, a click and the quick press of a needle shoved something in his nape. He hissed at the odd feeling as the alien moved onto Tom. The Brit took it with a bland “ow”.

Immediately, Tord’s headache tripled and he winced, as Tom seemed to be experiencing the same thing judging by his groans.

“As limited life forms with little knowledge in space travel, we have inoculated you with a number of vaccines so you do not die before your trial. There is a nasty case of Rigelian fever going around. I suggest you both rest until we arrive at the council. These things tend to cause a lot of pain to you fleshy types.” It rotated all three red orbs on Tord. “… the assembly is not pleased with you in particular." Tord thought he detected a flash of pity in his tone. "We will wake you when we arrive.”

As what felt like a literal fire burned through his brains he realized how deep he was in. By sheer chance the proof of his unintentional experiment and crime was sitting right next to him. And they were on their way to a trial by aliens. And who knew what capital punishment was in space. This time Tord welcomed darkness as he passed out.

Chapter Text

Any hope of waking up in his bed, Tom snoring across the room, is dashed as he wakes to his brain a muddled mess. He vaguely registered that he was being moved, no dragged, and the air pressure in his ears has popped. His head felt oddly warm, like a heating blanket wrapped around his skull. Everything is too bright again.

By the time he stops moving he is more awake and alert. A weight is released lifted from his wrists and he realizes that his cuffs had been popped off. Thank God.

He rubbed at his wrists as he looked around the small room he and Tom had been thrown into. Everything is a shiny polished metal and Jesus no wonder everything is so bright. Why is everything shiny and reflective?! It is sparse otherwise. Just a long block that could pass for a bed and another door in the corner.

“These will be your quarters until your trials,” came a voice from the other side of a thick door. “It is in two days for the human with empty eyes.” Tord glanced at Tom who was sitting on the floor, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets. “You, Tord Larsson, will have your trial the following day.”

“Can’t you at least tell me what is going on?” Tord shouted, fists clenched as he got up on shaky legs.

Complete silence greeted him and he yelled at the door, swearing colorfully. He wished he could punch something but everything was metal. Or Tom. Briefly, he did consider decking the bowling ball but if he was going to be trapped in a room with him it would turn ugly quick.

“Aliens are dicks,” Tom said helpfully from the floor.

“Almost as much as you are,” Tord replied easily, pacing back and forth. Now wasn’t the time to panic or give up. He was a genius, capable of building and thinking of the most brilliant plans. If he applied that genius surely he could figure out a solution even to this.

“Thinking again?”

“Yes. Perhaps you should try it. If you’re capable of it.”

“I’m capable. I’d just rather not.” Tom was now splayed on the ground, starfished across the floor. The room was small enough that Tom’s fingers brushed a wall. “Besides we’re pretty much boned. I saw some of the place as we were dragged in. We’re on a rock in a galaxy far far away. I swear I saw a tentacle monster on the way in.”

“… Are you making fun of me?” Tord asked, glaring back at Tom as he opened the small door in the corner. It was a bathroom thankfully.

Tom was dead serious as he tilted his head to look back. “Do you want me to?”

Tord resisted stomping on Tom’s chest as he continued to pace. It did give Tord some more perspective on their position though. Their human abilities would likely come up short among other species here.

“Regardless of where we are nothing is impossible to break out of,” he replied, running a hand through honey brown hair. “I don’t want to face whatever punishment they have in store for me.”

Tord knocked on walls, tested floors, tried the door but it all seemed pretty solid. Yet basic. No other precautions were really taken. Not even cameras. Just a locked door.

“I don’t particular feel like staying either,” Tom said finally. “Would this help?”

Tord looked back to see Tom remove his hands from his pockets and hold up one of the alien interface devices their captors had. It essentially was an Ipad with a clear screen.

“Yes!” Tord excitedly said, reaching out to snatch the device. Instead, Tom pulled it away from his hands.

“Give it to me,” Tord demanded, ready to fight him for it if need be.

“Easy there Commie. I’ll give it to you. But, you have to get me back to Earth too.” He paused, holding the device to his chest. “They don’t have good booze in space and I will go nuts.”

“Fine,” Tord gritted out, crossing his arms impatiently. “I promise.”

A sneer twitched on Tom’s lips. “Now admit you’re a loser and-”

“Just give me the stupid thing!”

They glared at one another. Tord was very aware that they both would drop and abandon the other if it was convenient. In a heartbeat. Tom hesitated and then held out the device and Tord snatched it up.

“How did you even get this?”

Tom shrugged. “Swiped it off one of the officers. Their vaccine didn’t really knock me out for long. You were out for hours. Thought you were dead.” Tord ignored the smirk that spread across Tom’s face.

Tord sat on the “bed” crossed legged. He simply tapped the thin clear glass and files appeared. It was like a futuristic clipboard and really was limited, some parts needed a password, but it supplied Tord with exactly what he needed.

Both he and Tom had profiles that were pulled up. Tom’s was brief, just a strongly worded blurb about blunt instruments and violence. He didn’t even have a picture.

Tord, however, was stunned at his file. This went back years. Precisely to the day he found the creature in the forest. There was even a candid photo snapped of him on the file. That was creepy.

According to the file, they knew he had taken samples from the beast. Because he was an ignorant human (their words not his) they didn’t act. They did follow and keep tabs on him, though. He paled as this file had record of some of his crimes on Earth that he had yet to be caught for.

He scrolled along and a chill went up his spine at the latest entry; a blurry picture of a large purple beast, rampaging around a city with massive claws, horns and… an empty eye socket. Both excitement and dread built up in him. How was it triggered? Did Tom know? How long did it last? He wished he could find out but asking too many specific questions would make Tom suspicious.

He glanced at him, motionless on the floor. Only the occasional blink gave any indication he was awake. While Tom could be his downfall if it was discovered he was this…. thing… it also gave Tord an advantage. One way to have power and control was to hold all the cards; know more than your enemy. And Tord was excellent at poker.

And while he was a soft squishy human that was at a disadvantage against stronger alien species he had his accidental weapon with him. Tom could prove very useful in fighting their way back to Earth. Maybe bust a few heads on the way. Or cities. Just to spite these fuckers.

“Finding anything useful there?” Tom asked finally.

“Lots,” Tord said with a devious smile, already forming a plan, going through his profile again. 

Tom glanced up at Tord on the block of metal and frowned. Not for the first time he felt that Tord’s smile only had one setting: predatory shark. What he wouldn’t give for his flask right now. It would be much better company than his current one. He was fairly certain he had it on him when they got taken but they must have taken it while he was knocked out. Bastards even took his lighter and some change from his pockets. He should have hit them harder.

“Don’t worry my dear, Thomas,” Tord said loftily. “We will be getting out of here. You’re very lucky to have me at your side.”

Tom scoffed. “I wouldn’t be in this damn situation at all if it weren’t for you.”

Tord pressed his lips in a frown, evidently not liking blamed for their situation. “I’m being charged with something I didn’t even know was illegal in another galaxy. I hardly think that is fair. So not my fault.”

“Whatever.” Tom just wished he didn’t get dragged into this shit. One time was enough for space.

He pulled his hood up and rolled over onto his side, facing away from Tord. It was silent except for the sound of Tord’s tapping. The longer he listened he found that he could hear the hum of the electricity in the floor too.

A heavy sigh interrupted the silence as Tord put down the device. “Look, Tom,” he started. “As much as it kills me to say it… I can’t get back to Earth without you. And you’re too hopeless and stupid to make it without me.” Tom turned around, ready to throw a bitter retort back in the little shit's face when Tord held up a hand and continued. “Any plan I come up with will have to require you. So… maybe we try working together?” Tord offered a shrug, palms turned up. “At least until we’re back home. Then we can tear each other’s throats out or whatever.”

Tom pushed up onto his elbows and scrutinized the brunette carefully. He trusted Tord about as well as he could live without alcohol. They rarely got along even before the shithead left. However, he was forced to admit that he wouldn’t get out of here without his help. Not that he was stupid. Tord just had a certain set of skills that would come in handy for prison escapes. Probably.

“Fine,” he relented. “If it means not being in space jail then I can deal with you and your plans.” He let himself drop onto his back again. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he thought sourly.

“Wonderful,” Tord said, going back to the device. “Since we humans are kind of at a disadvantage in space we need to stick together. Probably should figure out how to get my backpack…”

As Tord slowly rambled off into musing about his plans, Tom rolled onto his side again. Silence was something he was not used to. At home, Edd would be playing video games or with Ringo and Matt would always be shouting about something. Tom himself would at least have his bass, Susan. Now that he had that silence and lacked the distraction of alcohol his mind was left to ponder things he would rather not.

“Humans…” Tom thought. “It that what I am?” He had yet to transform again since the whole superhero battle between Edd and Eduardo, but the knowledge that he had turned into a giant purple monster was…. Unsettling. Terrifying. More importantly, confusing. He was fairly certain that was something he couldn’t do before so why now? It didn't make any sense. Even if he hadn’t transformed fully since then he could occasionally feel the telltale itching and ache in his head and bones that came when he got worked up. He could stomp the feeling down, beat it into submission, but it was always present. A foreign presence shoved deep in his flesh that wouldn’t go away.

See, this is why he needed his booze. He always thought too hard about irrelevant things when he wasn’t intoxicated. He needed a different distraction.

“What do you think Edd and Matt are doing?” Tom put the question out there, unsure if Tord would even reply.

“I don’t know,” Tord said, surprising Tom. “Matt is maybe running in circles and screaming. Edd….” Tord paused. “Edd is probably trying to figure out how to rescue us at this very moment. Selfless idiot.”

Tom faced Tord, arms folded under his head. “Sounds like something Edd would do. And knowing his dumb luck he would probably figure out how to do it somehow.”

“Edd isn’t that smart.” Tord retorted.

“I’d prefer him over you right now.”

“You wound me.” Tord rolled his eyes. “What about Matt?”

Tom snorted. “He electrocuted me last time, so no. Congrats you rank higher than the guy who almost killed me on accident.”

To Tom’s surprise, Tord chuckled and smiled a bit. A smile that didn’t remind him of a blood hungry fish. It almost looked genuine. Maybe a little wistful. “Matt would. He is useless in situations like this.”

“I recall both of you screaming like sissies when that mummy was coming after you,” Tom grinned at Tord.

“Shut up, Jehova." 

Tom's grin grew wider. If he felt a little calmer talking to Tord he ignored it.

Chapter Text

Time passed slowly as Tord read through the device and Tom remained on the floor. Those aliens must have been pretty stupid to not realize they were missing their electronic clipboard. Or at least that was how Tord described it.

“I still don’t get why Pluto isn't a planet,” Tom said, finally rolling off his back to stretch his legs. His joints cracked in protest, probably from laying on a hard floor for so long. Tord gave long-suffering groan.

“I explained it once already don’t ask me to do it again,” Tord sighed. “Making up a plan without pen or paper is very aggravating. It is even more difficult when you keep wanting to chat.”

“I'm very bored. You at least have your space iPad.” Tom stood and stretched his arms, feeling a very satisfying pop in his shoulders. “Plus, I’m pretty much sober at this point and it sucks.” Space had been more fun (and hazy) last time when his blood alcohol content was inching towards being comatose. Plus he had Edd, Matt and a fully functional spaceship with laser guns. That was pretty fucking awesome. His current situation was significantly less awesome. Present company and sobriety included.

“We don’t have much time Tom,” Tord said, tapping his index finger on the data pad. “And I have very little information to work with. So you’ll have to deal with being bored.”

Tom tried to peer over Tord’s shoulder to get a look at the screen but Tord immediately held it tight against his chest. He shot Tom a scowl.

“Care to share your plans yet, friend?” He bit out ‘friend’ as if he was chewing a particularly bad piece of meat. They had agreed to work together but Tom was not about to consider Tord a friend. Even if they were stuck in space together.

Tom was about to demand to see the damn thing when there was a metallic clunk and hiss. Both whirled toward the heavy metal door in time to see it sluggishly slide open. Three of those marble-skinned aliens with the bulbous red eyes stood in the doorway. Nine eyes zeroed in on Tord and shit… they were looking at the tablet in his hands.

“Fuck.”

Both humans braced themselves for attack as Tord stuffed the tablet in his hoodie pocket. Tom barely had time to put his fists up when two of the aliens rushed them. One shot its long forearm out, catching Tom in the throat, and shoved him up against the far wall. His teeth clacked as his head connected with the metal.

Their eyes and lack of mouth were even more disturbing up close as the creature loomed over him. Tom kicked out at the thing. There was a satisfying grunt when his sneaker connected with something but it retaliated by pressing harder against his windpipe. His vision darkened slightly around the edges as air became sparse.

“Fuck!” he growled out, fingers scrabbling at the steel like arm, struggling to not pass out. 

“Release me you disgusting-“ He could hear Tord lashing out. Over a pasty white shoulder, he could see another alien pinning him to the metal bed while the Norwegian fought back with the ferocity of a cornered animal. It didn’t do much as those heavy metal handcuffs were slapped on his wrists anyway. The third alien warily approached Tord and pulled the tablet out from his hoodie.

“Give that back!” Tord roared. Tom watched as Tord reared his head back and smashed his forehead into the face of the creature holding him down. The alien let out a cry and fell back.

“His pointy hair stabbed me in the eyes!” It screamed, shielding its multiple eyes.

Tord leaped at the third one with the tablet, arms splayed like he was taking a stage dive. Though he was smaller than the alien it took him by surprise and the two went down.

“Federations sake L’liran its just hair!” the one holding Tom down shouted, looking at his writhing friend. The press against Tom’s jugular didn’t let up. Tom had the odd urge to try and bite the bastard in his pasty arm. Maybe he could tear it off.

Meanwhile, Tord was struggling with the panicking alien, attempting to wrench the tablet from its spidery white fingers.

“Humans are insane!” It cried, before yanking the tablet from Tord and shoving him off to fall back on his ass.

Heavy cuffs are bolted onto Tom’s own wrists and the alien leaves him to drop back to the floor. Tom coughed and gulped down oxygen like it was a bottle of Smirnoff.

“You bastards!” Tord yelled, looking ready to charge the aliens again. “I’ll stab more than just your eyes when I get-!”

“Forget it,” Tom wheezed, rubbing at his throat despite the leaden weight of the cuffs. His hands were free but these damn cuffs almost went all the way up his forearms. The didn't allow much space between them. “We're fucked.”

“Are all humans this difficult and loud?” One alien said, looking at his friend. The one on the left was rubbing at his three eyes, tears streaming down his blank white face.

“They’re weak but that hurt!” It complained in a high-pitched warble.

“Suck it up L’liran,” one chirped back, before turning back towards the two humans. “It is time for your questioning.”

“Why should we cooperate with you?” Tom snarled, glaring at the aliens with black eyes. Tord nodded in agreement next to him. If looks could kill at least one of these aliens would burst into flames from Tord’s scowl.

“We understand that you hoo-mans-“ started the one that got an eyeful of Tord's ridiculous hair.

“It is pronounced humans L’liran,” one whispered, not so subtly.

“Right. Hu-mans. We understand you hu-mans are limited in understanding and the Federation of Galaxies is not without compassion.”

“You almost choked my comrade, here,” Tord said dryly, gesturing his bound hands at Tom. Tom resisted a communist joke. Probably not the time. "You show compassion very differently than humans."

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” another said finally, arms folded.

The two glanced at each other and Tord nodded his head. Tom sighed and stood. Tord was the man with the plan. Easy way it was.

Tord was actually nervous as he was sat in a rigid angular chair. Him, The Red Leader, was nervous. And it pissed him off.

He had been separated from Tom. The two them were thrown into different rooms for ‘questioning’ as they put it. Despite the dislike for each other it was unnerving to be separated from the only other human and person he knew in space. He felt incredibly alone. Powerless. His foot tapped loudly on the floor as he waited.

The room he was placed in was well lit (he felt like he had been squinting since he got here) and the only other thing was a second chair across from him. When another alien walked in Tord was distinctly reminded of an interrogation scene. It looked almost identical to all the others except this one was maybe shorter.

“Don’t I get a phone call?” Tord snarked. He would not show weakness to these bald, noseless, and mouthless creatures.  

“I beg your pardon?” It sounded baffled.

“Nevermind,” he said with a shrug, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. His hands, however, fidgeted with the sleeves of his hoodie. Belatedly he realized that there was a thin black strip around the alien's white neck with what looked like... a speaker? Is this how they talked? It explained the odd sound quality. 

“Humans are extremely odd,” it said, taking a seat and shaking his head. “We’ve been observing you for a number of years and still there are things we can’t understand.”

“I honestly don’t give a shit. Can you explain why I’m here?” He didn't plan to cooperate with these dicks that snatched him off his planet. A planet he was planning to take over. This really put a damper on things.

“Right. Well, you’re in violation of statute 14-71 which prohibits unauthorized DNA collection. As well as statue 17-83 which prohibits experimentation with said DNA.” Tord yawned. “And more importantly you’ve somehow recreated a dangerous alien species and then unleashed it on a human city.”

“I’ve done no such thing.” He didn’t bother specifying what he was denying. To be fair two out of three of those crimes were accurate. He might have gotten around to the city thing if he got the opportunity admittedly. Put simply he couldn't give a damn about their statues and meaningless numbers.

“We have plenty of evidence against you Mr… Larsson. The species you took DNA from is an extremely dangerous controlled species capable of destroying everything its path. So it would be greatly appreciated if you could tell us where-“

“I have nothing to tell,” Tord said flatly, holding his head high despite his position. If he could cross his arms he would. He hoped Tom kept his mouth shut when they questioned him. Despite himself, he wished he was back in that cramped metal hole with Tom again. He felt too exposed and open to attack here. Once again he lamented his lack of control in this situation.   

Those three red eyes narrowed at him. “If you do not tell us where it is we could potentially increase your sentence from 100 years to 300… these species are very dangerous and must be eradicated so we take it ver-”

“100 years?!” Tord shouted, leaning over, mouth open in shock. “Eradicated?” He thought, stunned. That alien he encountered in the forest... the DNA he injected into Tom... the thing Tom could turn into. 

“Well the species in question is extremely dangerous and we’ve taken it upon ourselves to get rid of them. All of them. So naturally your crime requires proper punishment. The one you encountered on your planet was a mistake on our part-“

“So if you found one of these things…” Tord started, a chill running up his spine. He already had an idea of the answer.

All three red orbs blinked at him. “Well, naturally we would have to destroy it.” 

Chapter Text

By the time day two in space rolls around, at least he assumes it is day two based on when the lights in the cell go off, Tom was close to bashing his brains in.With nothing to do, being entirely sober, and stuck with an equally bored Tord it was pretty much torture.

Although…Tord had seemed pretty distracted since he was questioned. Dare he say… spacey? Ha… Oh god, he was turning into Edd. 

As he seriously considered bashing his skull in there was a metallic knock on their door. An alien peered in through the little window in the door.

“It is time for your trial, eyeless human…er…” Red eyes rotated down. “…Tom.”

“Don’t I get to talk to a lawyer or something first?” He asked, not entirely serious, but he would like to know what he was dealing with.

“Law-yer?” It asked in a puzzled tone.

“On Earth our trials have lawyers… people who defend the accused person,” Tord explained, picking himself up off the floor.

“No, I’m afraid that is not how things work with the Federation of Galaxies. You will be brought before the judge, evidence will be shown, and you will do your best to convince your judge of your innocence. Then your sentence will be passed.” It looked down again. “Though for a first-time offense and a minor assault charge you could be facing two years at most. Lucky break.”

“Wait,” Tom said, scowling and holding up a hand. “It’s just a matter of my word against theirs? There might as well be no point to a trial. I’ll admit it right here. I totally beat the sh-“

He was treated to a kick to the back of his knees, making him buckle slightly and hiss in pain. Was Tord wearing steel-toed sneakers or something? Because that fucking hurt.

“Well that isn’t how things are done on Earth,” Tord said walking up to the window. He had to go on his toes to look out the thing. “So what if you gave him someone that could speak for him. My friend isn’t very articulate or smart.”

“Fuck you,” he snapped, throwing up a middle finger. Even now he didn’t regret breaking Matt’s nine iron over that alien repeatedly. That alien was ready to tear Edd in half if he got the chance. He’d beat it up again if he had to. Maybe next time he would use the driver.

The alien gave an odd metallic humming noise, a high ringing vibration, narrowing his eyes at Tord. “Why should we?””

“Well if your Federation is as compassionate as your friends claimed…”

It hesitated for a moment.“I will discuss it with the judge,” it said finally, shifting its eyes at Tom. “Who would you want to speak-“

“Me,” Tord interrupted sharply.

“You?” Tom said, incredulously. “How will having you speak for me help? I don’t want to sound like a nasally Russian-“ That earned another kick this time to the shins.

“I am Norwegian,” Tord hissed in Tom’s face, looking insulted. “And trust me, you need me. I still need you to get out. Two heads are better than one. Even when one only has half a brain.”

“I assume you mean me,” Tom said flatly, before looking back at the alien who was watching the two bicker in confusion. Or at least he assumed it was confusion. Hard to tell on those faces. “Alright. I want this asshole as my lawyer.”

“… I will ask the higher ups if that is ok,” the alien said, disappearing from the window.

Tom looked towards Tord. “You have a plan?”

“Naturally,” Tord said but Tom could see the nervous slide of his eyes and the sweat on his face.

“You still don’t have a plan.”

“… I’m kind of winging it right now,” Tord admitted, scratching at the back of his neck. “My goal right now is to keep you out of space jail.”

“You can do that?” Tom questioned. Surprisingly, Tord seemed earnest about helping him out and not just save his own skin. He couldn’t believe Tord would want to save him out of the goodness of his heart.

“I’ve talked myself out some bad situations before,” Tord said with a smirk. “This just a matter of who is the better and more convincing speaker. I could do that for you as long as you keep your mouth shut.”

Tom weighed his options. Despite it all he was disgruntled to find that it would be nice to have Tord there. If he had to go through this shit he didn’t want to go it alone. He also had to admit he wasn’t the best speaker. He grumbled and scratched at the scruff on his chin.

“Well?” Tord prodded, still grinning as if he knew Tom was going to give in. Cheeky bastard.

“Fine. I’ll let you do the talking. If I end up with a life sentence or something though I will make your life in prison miserable.”

“Great,” he said smugly. “Don’t be afraid to tell your lawyer anything that might help.”

Tord was probably joking but Tom realized he probably did have something to confess. He couldn’t hide it forever after all. It no doubt broke a few laws somewhere.

“Actually…” he started, keeping his voice low. Tord’s eyes lit up in interest.

“Yeah?” He prompted.

“Last time we were in space Edd, Matt and I went on a joyride in a stolen spaceship, blew up a planet, vandalized Uranus and uh probably some other things I can’t remember. Do you think that will be a problem?”

Tord’s blinked looking poleaxed. Clearly, he didn’t expect that.

“You guys are idiots.”

“Yeah,” Tom shrugged.

“And I’m so fucking jealous.”

That got a laugh out of Tom.

“Then maybe you should have stayed.”

For a moment there Tord was expecting Tom to admit something else. Tell him that he turned into a giant beast and terrorized a town. He didn’t expect to hear about a fucking awesome joyride in space. Nor did he expect Tom’s words.

Then maybe you should have stayed.

It wasn’t anything heartfelt, a casual comment, a mere statement of a fact, but it caught Tord off guard. It was the last thing he ever expected to hear from Tom. It wasn’t something he wanted to hear from Tom but now he was hung up on ‘what ifs’. What if he stayed?  What if he went on all those whacky adventures? What if he asked them to come with him?

Ah, shit he was doing it again. Tord was not one for dwelling on the past. Questions of what could have been were pointless. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, change anything. He had power now. He had what he wanted within his grasp. Well at least until all... this. Besides, he had more important things to deal with in the present.

Tord and Tom were back in handcuffs, and being lead down the hallway like before, and flanked by just two aliens this time, one in the back and one in front. Thankfully, whoever was in charge evidently agreed to their request. Tord thought it was a particularly brilliant idea.

That tablet had a more than just profiles. Though it was limited, it also had a map of the place and a few messages from one alien to another. 

Tord had two challenges for Tom’s trial. One, make sure Tom didn’t get a prison sentence. Maybe community service or something. Two, make sure the aliens didn’t find out that Tom was his experiment. His questioning the other day made it clear that this alien he had turned Tom into was not welcome in their happy little Federation. He didn’t want to lose his experiment to them.

He supposed it was three challenges now that he knew Tom had blown up a planet (lucky asshole). Probably wouldn’t be good for that to pop up during a trial.

The hallway turned a corner and opened into a much larger and taller hallway with a single door on the end. Lining the walls was a long bench of the most bizarre combination of creatures he had ever seen, all in restraints. More eyes than he could count turned to glance at them.

“Wait here,” one alien said, pointing at the end of the bench. “You will wait your turn here until your trial is called.”

“Are all them on trial?” Tom asked.

“The universe is full of deplorable criminals like yourself,” the alien said simply. Before Tord could sit the alien chirruped loudly at him. “No! You’re not on trial until tomorrow. You sit… over there on the floor.” It pointed at the wall opposite the bench.

Tord grumbled, plopping down against the wall. The metal was brisk through the fabric of his pants. Tom took a seat on the bench across from him and the alien left.

“Tord?” Tom asked, staring straight ahead at him.

“Yeah, Tom?”

“Am I sitting next to a cat in a space helmet?”

Tord glanced to Tom’s left. A small four-legged, pointy-eared creature, which did indeed look almost identical to a cat, sat there. And yes it was wearing a space helmet. Tord blinked and it flicked it's tail.

“Yes. Yes, you are.”

“Alright,” Tom said, relaxing. “Cool.”

“Why?”

“Just making sure you see it too.”

Tord didn’t pursue that. He looked around the hallway. If he recalled the diagram of the facility, they were just outside the courtroom. 

Two aliens stood guard outside the large doors at the end and two more at the end of the hall, closest to Tord and Tom. These ones had some rather impressive looking laser guns strapped to their hips and Tord itched to get his hands on one. More than anything though he wanted his own guns.

He thought on the floor plans that he studied over and over again on the tablet. There was a shuttle bay on this floor where ships would have to go in and out from. There should also be a place where they would keep things, like his backpack. He needed to find a way to get into both places for him and Tom to get out of here.

He tapped a finger against the floor as he considered what to do. Tord regarded his cuffs, turning them to and fro, watching the lights bounce off the smooth metal.

“Psst. Tord. Tord!” Tord looked up at Tom’s hushed calls.

“What?” He asked, annoyed.

“Look,” Tom nodded his head down at the cat.

The brown furry animal’s eyes were blown wide and its tail swished excitedly. Its bright eyes were zeroed in on a bright spot on the floor. Tord tilted his cuffs and cat wiggled as the bright spot moved.

A maniacal grin broke out on his face. The creature had a restraint around its torso that somehow connected to the wall. But if this thing was anything like an Earth cat…

Lifting his arms he moved the glare of light around trying to get it... there. The glare settled on one the captor’s furthest from him. The cat was practically vibrating at this point. Tord could see Tom’s shoulder’s shaking with restrained laughter.

He shook his arms up and down and moved the glare up to a face and really these guys should know you can’t restrain a cat if it doesn’t want to be. The second the lithe little creature was free it was off down the hall with the speed of a fuzzy bullet.

The alien fell back with a yelp when the cat pounced, claws outstretched. His partner yelled something tried to grab the animal but now Tom was aiming the glare from his cuffs at him. The cat whirled and sprung at him.

"Take that you fuckers," he thought vindictively. The shrieking from them was immensely gratifying.   

There were prisoners cheering and shouting at the struggle going on down there and even Tom was whopping with them. Just as Tord hoped, the two aliens at their end of the hall ran down to assist.

Tord jumped up and leaned in close to Tom. Despite the recent lack of alcohol, he could still smell the sourness of it on his hoodie. “Stay here," he whispered. "I’m going to find my backpack. Keep that cat going as long as you can.”

“I’m not staying here,” Tom replied, regarding him with suspicion.

“I’m not leaving. I can’t.” He held up his cuffs. “But if I get the stuff in my backpack things might get a lot easier for us. I'll be back.”

“You got a tank in there?”

“That would be in my other backpack,” he retorted, as a particularly high-pitched scream came from the end of the hall. Tom still looked dubious but he nodded. 

“Alright. I’ll keep the catfight going as long as possible.”

“That was awful.”

“I know. Get going, Commie.”

With that Tord slunk around the corner of the hallway and tried to recall every detail of the map. Soon the screeching and yowling cat sounds faded as he crept along the halls, cuffs still weighing down his arms. He was no stranger to sneaking around places and stealing. Hopefully, he wouldn't be caught before he stole his stuff back. Or shot.

Chapter Text

Over the years Tord had become rather skilled in this sort of business. You didn’t get to be at the top of the world without some… appropriation. People should really protect their top secret weapons and data better if they didn’t want others stealing it. Tord wondered if this was karma getting back at him.

He had no special equipment, no preparation and has some heavy restraints binding his arms together. Many of the halls are busy or full of patrolling guards, sleek laser guns in hand.

“Fuuuuuuck,” he thought, as he came across another hallway of guards. He quickly backtracked into the empty hallway he came from. He desperately tried to recall every minute detail of the map.

“Ok, so the shuttle bay is to the left… cargo bay to the right…” he mused, keeping an ear out for the thundering sound of guards coming to seize his ass. This part of the building was entirely made up of angular hallways and rooms, which made it easier for Tord to recall where things were.

What made it difficult was how fucking bright everything was. There were no shadows for him to hide in and the only cover he had come across so far was a hovering cart in the hall to his right. If someone turned the corner at this very moment he would be spotted right off the bat. He already had several close shaves.

It made Tord think of those video games he played with Edd where they would have to hide or run past the line of sight of enemies. Only this was ten times more difficult.

He had a goal now, though. And he would not allow himself to fail so easily. Not to these dick bags. As he considered his options brown eyes fell on the big square vents on the wall. Tord got up on his toes and… he just barely touched the bottom portion of the vent grille. He can feel a soft brush of air on his fingertips and he wonders if this is how oxygen is cycled.

It is a little cliché but it will do. Tord just has to figure out how to jimmy the damn thing open first. He tiptoes over to the cart, streamlined and spotless like a fucking Apple Store. It takes some poking but he soon figures out how to pop open seamless drawers from it.

There are some more data pads, a thick angular stylus with a pointed tip, and a… well actually he doesn’t know what this thing is. It is a pinky-sized vial filled with what looks like Mountain Dew. If it is anything like actual Mountain Dew then he could probably do some damage with it. Tord shoved it into his pocket. The scientist in him couldn't help it.

With nothing else actually useful he grabbed the large stylus and shoved the point under the lip of the vent. The second he ripped this thing off there would be aliens to investigate the noise. The vents, however, appeared small enough that these larger aliens wouldn’t be able to follow him in.

There was no point in hesitating now. He pushed the stylus, prying the bottom edge of the vent cover away from the wall. It wasn’t enough yet. These goddamn cuffs made it difficult. Tord huffed as he fitted the tip into another part. The grille creaked and it popped out.

He jumped, hands hanging onto the vent opening as the boom of metal hitting metal echoed down the hall. Almost instantly he heard footsteps and voices thundering down the hall. Tord heaved himself up, grunting with effort and these motherfucking handcuffs, sneakers scrabbling at smooth walls.

By the grace of his upper body strength and litheness, he successfully hauled his torso in and wiggled the rest of his body in. The voices are closer as he pulled himself further into the vents, hopefully out of arms reach.

“He’s in the vents!” A voice echoed from behind.

“Well, go in there and get him!”

“I can’t fit in there!”

“Take that, shitheads,” Tord muttered, smugly. He didn't have much time. They know where he is so it now a matter of him being faster and smarter. Can’t be that hard.

As he went through the conduit, using his elbows to drag himself along, he could hear snippets of conversations and shouting. Otherwise, everything was oddly quiet except for the sounds of warping metal as he moved.

“Hallway, hallway, hallway… office? Where is the fucking shuttle bay?!”

Tord arms were getting tired and it was fucking cold in these vents. All he was seeing beyond the slotted openings were aliens and more of the bright ass hallway. He is about to dismiss the next opening when a flash of familiar military green and red catches his eye.

“Fuck yeah!” He whispered as he spied his backpack in a room with about a million other confiscated items.

Using his hands he attempted to push the grate open, fingers hooking into the slats to keep it from falling and making a sound. It popped out with a small squeak.

He squirmed his way out pausing to gently put the grate down. The only way out is headfirst, unfortunately. Tord slows his momentum as best he can but still bangs onto the floor.

He holds his breath for a moment, waiting for the door on the far end to slide open but there is nothing. As far as all-powerful alien species go these guys are pretty damn incompetent.

He almost felt like skipping as he went up to the backpack to unzip it.

“Hello gorgeous,” he whispered, picking up the semi-automatic pistol, and hefting it up. It was awkward with the cuffs and his aim would be off but he could definitely shoot someone. Glorious.

He pawed through the bag. He knows it should be in here… gun, another gun, ammo, some samples, an external hard drive of hentai… Got it!

Tord unearthed a cube-shaped device from the bottom of the bag with an antenna, extremely similar to the capsules that the sofa and furniture came out of. He designed it to hold multiple items regardless of size and be able to retrieve them from it anytime.

He frowned though as he realized that he wouldn’t be able to take everything. The capsule was only a prototype and couldn’t carry all that much and it didn’t handle potentially explosive things very well. It took weeks for his eyebrows to grow back.

He sorted out he thought was necessary. He took the semi and its matching twin and unloaded the magazines from both. He also took out the duct tape, granola bars, a screwdriver and a Swiss Army Knife.

He paused as he pulled out wrinkled and folded photo. It might have been mistaken for a sheet of paper, as only the back was visible. He held it for a moment flicking at the worn edge of the picture and put it in the capsule.

He left two other guns and everything else. It was a shame because there was some good content on that drive too. Tord was about head back through the vent when something else caught his attention. Tom’s flask and lighter.

He considered them for a moment and sighed. He removed his screwdriver and dropped the flask into the capsule and swiped the lighter.

“I hope the Jehova appreciates this…” he thought bitterly. The capsule was at full capacity now. If it earned Tom’s trust and cooperation it might be worth it. A trusting Tom was an easier to control Tom.

The question was what to do with everything else? Tord patted at his hoodie, oversized and roomy the way he liked it. It could hide any extra bulk he might need to hide… hopefully. So long as the aliens didn’t get too handsy.

He took the duct tape and pulled out a long strip with his teeth. It was a good thing he was used to doing stuff like this in handcuffs.

Pulling yourself through the ventilation while wearing handcuffs and having various items duct taped to your torso was a pain in the ass. Tord stopped for a moment to rest, breathing hard. Only one of the guns could fit into the capsule and he was forced to tape the other to himself along with, a number of magazines, ammo and Tom’s lighter. Naturally, it was pretty damn uncomfortable.

It was slow going to the shuttle bay, especially since they were watching the ducts now. There were a few moments he had to stop and wait for red eyes to move on from an opening.

He grinned triumphantly when he found it. The shuttle bay was directly below him, two massive chrome doors sealing it shut. Two aliens stood guard, red eyes rotating as they searched about the hallways. There didn’t appear to be a way in from the ductwork.

Well, that made things more difficult. The only way in was through the door.

He considered shooting the both of them but the noise would bring more aliens here. Plus who knew how well guns worked on these freaky creatures. He couldn’t risk his guns.

Fuck. He wasn’t planning on leaving just yet but he hoped that he could at least get into the shuttle bay. He slowly and quietly shimmied himself backward to find another. Time to retreat a-

Tord’s breath caught as he realized that one of the guards was gone. Oh shit. Where did-

“Found you.”

Cold, long fingers clamped on his ankle and a yelp escaped him and he found himself hanging upside down in open air before being thrown into the floor by his leg, knocking the wind out of him. Tom’s tapped lighter jabbed at his ribs. He’d have a nice set of bruises.

“Shit!” He gasped, staring straight up at the vent opening he had been yanked out of.

“Thought you would leave did you?” His captor snarled, round eyes narrowed at him all at once. If he had to guess an expression he supposed it would be pissed. Again it was hard to tell without a mouth. Though if the gun pointed at his chest was anything to go by…

“It would be much appreciated if you didn’t shoot me,” Tord said nervously, eyeing the tip of the gun pressed into his hoodie. A little lower and he would have nudged the gun taped under Tord's clothes.

Tom's leg bounced nervously as he waited. Evidently alien trials were lightning fast because there were only four people ahead of him now. That didn’t bode well for him and his pointy-haired “lawyer” was still MIA.

He looked down at the poor space cat next to him. It took some wrangling but they did manage to catch it eventually. It meowed pitifully from the confines of what he could only describe as a high-tech cat carrier.

“I feel you, little guy,” he said, eyeing the aliens standing at the door. He felt kind of bad for setting the cat up like that.

Another criminal disappeared behind the door and Tom could feel sweat sliding down the back of his neck. His skin felt tight and itchy. Did the fucker ditch him after all? Did he get shot? Ah, fuck this was going to drive him nuts...

"Did you lose something of yours human?" As if on cue a rumpled but intact Tord was thrown at his feet with a grunt. "Found him crawling through the oxygen vents. Looks like he was trying to get out through the shuttle bay."

"Stupid humans," one of Tom's guards scoffed.

"He didn't get far. Shameless. Abandoning his friend."

"Not my friend," he muttered to himself, nudging Tord with his foot. "Tord?"

Tord cracked open an eye and caught Tom looking. He gave him a smile and a secretive thumbs up. Whatever Tord needed to do he did it. Tom let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Now he didn't have to face these freaks alone.

"Prisoner #259. Tom." Tom looked up at the guard staring at him. Tord stiffly picked himself up off the floor. "Your trial begins soon. The judge has been notified of your circumstances. Please make sure you're prepared." It (he?) looked between the two of them. "I suggest you take advantage of this opportunity and make it count. Not everyone is so lucky to get special treatment from the Federation."

Chapter Text

Tord would have liked to say that the “courtroom” was something he hadn’t expected. Something terrifying at least. Maybe blood splatter on the chrome pulpit or something.

Instead, it looked oddly similar to an episode of Star Trek.

Rather disappointing really.

The lights from above were almost blinding as they were shoved to the middle of what Tord only call a stadium. His sneakers echoed on the metal floor, much like the rest of this shitty place. The small arena they stood in was surrounded by tall stands, shadowed to where he could only make out vague shapes of aliens sitting around them. In front was a large pulpit, extending high enough that Tord had to crane his neck to see the alien sitting behind it. The judge might as well been sitting on the roof of a house.

This one was no different than all the rest: red eyes and white skin with no mouth to speak of. He wore a crisp black robe. Tord supposed that meant the other aliens around him were the jury? Or they just got their kicks by watching people get punished. He could relate.

Sweat rolled down the back of Tord’s neck and the various object taped crudely his body made him itch through his shirt. The taped semi-automatic hung heavily against the flat of his stomach and Tom's lighter was jammed at an angle against his rib cage. It was also apparent that he might have wrapped himself a little too hard like a goddamn idiot. It felt like a giant fist held him by the torso. 

Tord glanced at Tom who was looking around with his empty eyes. The man's hands kept clenching and unclenching. A nervous tic perhaps? He had a sheen of sweat on his face too. It felt like the heat was turned up on purpose in here. If you make your prisoners uncomfortable they'll make mistakes. A little more subtle than Tord's methods but potentially effective. He squared his jaw.

“Prisoner #259. Tom.” The alien’s voice boomed around the otherwise eerily quiet room. From the top of the pulpit he could barely see the long narrow fingers holding a glowing tablet. “Human of Earth. Charged with aggravated assault against an officer during the arrest of a wanted criminal.”

A murmur vibrated through the aliens.

“And you have been given a… la-wyer? Who is also said arrested criminal.”

“Yes,” Tord said.

“My choices were limited,” Tom said flatly.

“Indeed. Well for a minor case like this I suppose this is fine. The Federation makes every effort to take into account of the culture and worlds of other species…”

A ripple of what sounded like self-congratulatory bullshit went through the aliens. Hypocritical jackasses.

“Very well then. The evidence is very clear. The officer’s report states that the human was armed with a strange metal weapon and attacked him.”

In the middle of the arena a large holo-screen flickered to life at their feet. It was a shot of the houses entry way from the perspective of the aliens. Body cameras maybe? Tord scowled as the camera showed Edd with his arms up, bracing for a blow. The picture was shaky. Tom flew in with the golf club and started beating the shit out of the other alien. His face was a mask of rage and clenched teeth. Then a sharp crack and the camera went dark.

It was pretty damning to the alien’s many many eyes no doubt. It didn't help that Tom had his arms crossed in defiance and a satisfied smirk.  

“I think this seems fairly clear," the judge declared. "I’m sure the others would agree.”

A murmur of agreement goes around.

“Hold it,” Tord cut in. “You’ve given Tom the chance to a lawyer. So let me do my job. I'll prove why he is… justified in his actions.” 

"In this case anyway," he thought.

“… very well then.”

Tord can feel a million different eyes on him and it occurs to him that he is being stared at far more than Tom. Does his hoodie look suspicious? Is it his hair? These fuckers were making him squirm and Tord did not squirm. He hated being in this position. To be looked down on by others and at a completed disadvantage. However, Tord prided himself on being able to twist a situation to his advantage.

“My friend here might be a drunk loser with no social skills and frequent outbursts…”

Tom made a noise like he snorted milk up his nose.

“... But I am not here to prove that he is innocent… rather I am here to simply justify his actions. My friend is not a destructive… monster.”

He saw Tom tense from the corner of his eye. Best to ignore it.

“If you rewind the video back the start you can clearly see that this officer is attacking another human.”

“Who hit him with a chair,” the judge pointed out.

“Because strangers broke into his house,” Tord countered smoothly. “Alien strangers.” He paced unable to keep still, addressing not only the judge but the audience. The duct tape had little to no give and the cuffs hung heavily from his wrists. The longer he was in the spotlight the more he feared he would get found out.

“If someone broke into your house and you did not know they were officers wouldn’t you defend your territory?”

He could see some nodding heads in the darkness. That was a good sign. He followed that line of reasoning.

“And that is precisely what Tom did. He was defending his friend from an attacker. Surely your species can understand that?”

There was more jabber through the crowd. It sounded promising.

“Prisoner #259,” the judge swiveled toward Tom who was giving Tord an odd look.

“What?” He said flatly.

“Did you attack an officer because you were defending another?”

“You bet your pasty ass I did. You broke into our fucking house and attacked my friend... The one in the green hoodie." He pointed at Tord. "Not this one.” 

“As you can see Tom is a very devoted and loyal... person,” Tord said quickly, ignoring the comment. He can only hope loyalty and friendship was something these things approved of. At least among their own kind. It was bunch of shit to him, and a majority of the human population, but he’ll fake it for this.

"All I ask is that you give him mercy for something he was dragged into because of me. I don't want to be responsible for my friend being punished.” 

His voice sounded saccharinely fake to his own ears. He heard Tom scoff. Frankly, he was surprised Tom had managed to hold his tongue so long. He had said "my friend" several times already.  

The judge looked between the two of them with a sigh.

“Considering how minor of an offense this is… and the officer in question is already healing I see no reason to not to show some mercy. The human displayed loyalty and devotion despite his stupidity. Something the Federation values highly. 10 cycles of labor on the Galrath Asteroid Belt.” He banged his gavel. “Case closed.”

Tord and Tom waited, both of them expecting the other shoe to drop.

“So… that's it?” Tom said, breaking the quiet. “Is that really fucking it?”

“Of course,” the judge said with a sniff and straightens his black robes. “Trials like yours take only seven minutes tops.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Tord said. He had played games of Tic-tac-toe that were longer than this.

"Nope."

And just like that Tord wrapped up his first, and last, stint as a lawyer in a little under seven minutes. 

The two of them were led back into their cell in cuffs and shoved in. Tord stumbled in and Tom was starting to get… well not worried but he couldn't miss the winces of pain underneath his bravado. He held himself stiffly, even back in the courtroom. Did the aliens break something when they caught him? Under normal circumstances that would have made him laugh at Tord's expense.

“Prisoner #259,” a guard started. He seemed a little bulkier than the lankier aliens Tom had seen. He could probably snap both of them in half. “You will be escorted to the Galrath Asteroid mines tomorrow with the next ship out.”

Tom gave a snort and gave a black glare at the alien.

“Prisoner #258… Tord. Your trial will begin early tomorrow. First trial of the day.”

"Aren’t I special?” Tord mocked bitterly.

“Special is not the world I would use,” the alien said darkly, looking down at them. “You’ve committed a violation of universal laws and ethics. We cannot have others thinking they can get away with this. You… will be made an example of.”

Tom felt a chill skip down his spine. Tord blanched and shuffled uncomfortably.

“I recommend you say your goodbyes now.”

And with that the heavy cell door shut. Tom could feel the heaviness of that statement hanging even after the guard left.

“You will be made an example of,” Tom repeated in his head. It didn't sound like a trial. Not like Tom's. Their minds were already made up on Tord. Tord was fucked.

Meanwhile on Earth...

“Have you found anything yet?”

“Nope. Oh, wai-“ Matt yanked up an empty bottle of muddy Smirnoff. “Never mind! Just another empty vodka bottle.”

“Well, we gotta keep digging then!” Edd said, jamming the shovel into the ground. "It is down here somewhere!" The backyard was a pockmarked mess of holes of piles of dirt. Both their sleeves had dirt all the way up to their elbows much to Matt's dismay.

“It was pretty deep when we buried it. And it blew up. How do we even get it to work?”

“We’ll figure it out. Now keep digging! We’re going to find that spaceship!”

Chapter Text

 It reminded Tom a bit of a prank in college. The one where you take the passed out kid and tape them to a wall with duct tape. In that case, he was the hammered kid that they put on the wall. The jackasses even managed to tape him upside down.

It was much more amusing to watch someone else rip and tear duct tape from their torso. Bonus points since it was Tord. The most fun he could ever have in space prison.

“Fuck!” He swore, struggling with a particular piece of tape around ribs. “You could offer to help!”

“I could,” Tom shrugged mildly, smirk in place as he watched Tord finally rip a gun off his torso. “This is much more fun.”

“Damn Jehova…” Tord muttered, which just made Tom smugger. “See if I ever do anything nice for you again…”

“Nice? Yeah, I’d like to see that,” Tom scoffed. He was pretty sure Tord would burst into flames if he did anything that could come close to “nice”.

Tord fixed him with a glare. He reached to his side and ripped the tape off from something pasted there. He stomped over, breathing heavily, and slapped it into Tom’s chest.

“There. Now you’ve seen it. I’m a regular saint.”

Tom looked down, shocked to see his black and white checkered lighter tumble into his hands.  

“You found my lighter?” Tom was shocked, flipping it open and striking it with his thumb. In the cold and dismal prison cell it the flame was the only source of warmth or light. It was comforting.

“I found your flask too,” Tord said, struggling with another layer of tape. Tom could see the top of his checkered flask sticking out from the top. “Don’t think there is much left in it.”

Tom was a little stunned, the concept of Tord doing something nice, let alone going out of his way to do something nice, was beyond the grasp of his brain at the moment. The weight of the metal lighter in his palm was a familiarity he had been lacking since getting here.

“Why?” He asked, flicking it shut.

“Why not?” Tord grunted, shaking off a piece of tape stuck to his hand. “Your junk was there with my stuff so I just took it. No need to get all sentimental about it.”

 Tom rubbed the flat of his thumb across the curved edge of the lighter. Tord swore in Swedish. Wait no Norwegian.

“For fuck’s sake,” Tom groaned, picking himself up off the floor so that he and Tord were face to face. “Hold still.”

Tord went stock still as Tom grabbed hold of the warm tacky tape. He had done a good job of mangling the strips. It took a few tugs until Tom yanked it off, flask stuck to the adhesive.

“Ugh thank god that thing hurt like a bitch,” Tord said, rubbing at his sides. Tom just peeled the tape off his flask and shook it. Sounds like there were like… three sips sloshing around in there. Not even enough for a pleasant buzz. Still… it was the thought that counted. He’d save it for later.

Tom knew with certainty that Tord was the furthest thing from a good person. Tord was an ass. Tord was shifty and shadowy and a mad scientist that messed with things that shouldn’t be messed with. And a lighter and a flask did not mean all was forgiven. But…

“Hey, Tord?” Tom started, tucking the flask and lighter into his hoodie.

“What?” He snapped, plopping onto the floor and sorting through his things. His eyes glared up at him, probably expecting the usual insult. Well Tom would show him!

“Thanks,” he grumbled, not looking the other man in the eyes.

Tord blinked up at him, mouth falling open a bit before his face went neutral. “Yeah,” he said simply. “Whatever. I hope you’re grateful for the pain I went through for them.”

“Goddammit, you damn Nord! I’m trying to thank you for not being a complete fuck!” Tom growled. Why did Tord insist on being so aggravating? Even at their most civil something about his shitty personality rubbed Tom the wrong way. He knew his personality wasn’t any less shitty but at least he didn’t go out of his way to ruin lives… probably.

“I don’t need your thanks,” Tord snapped. “What I need is to figure a way out of here in one piece. If you’re thankful you can shut up so I can figure that out.”

Tom sat in front of Tord, the items he had swiped laid out in front of them. They were silent for a few minutes, the cell floor icy through the seat of his pants.

Tord chewed on his bottom lip, brows furrowed and jaw tight as he stared down at the items. Tom looked down at the pile. It was a rather sorry assortment for breaking out of space jail.

A Swiss army knife, two pistols, a couple of magazines, a quarter of a roll of duct tape, his lighter, a vial of some neon puke green liquid and a weird metal stick. A pile of granola bars was scooted off the side that were, naturally, useless for prison escapes (especially since they were shitty oatmeal raisin).

“Really? We can escape with this?” Tom said, dubious.

“I’ve done more with less,” Tord replied, absently. Tom didn’t want to know. “Our biggest disadvantage is easily our physical differences. We’re laughably weak against their size and strength. They held me by the ankle with one hand.”

Tom snorted, imagining the Jehova flailing upside down. Tord spared him a quick glare.

“So what you’re is we can’t take them head-on. I could have told you that.” Who knows how well the guns would even work on them. Wouldn’t that be the icing on the shit cake?

“I’m saying we have to be smarter. Sneakier. Use our smaller size to our advantage. They couldn’t reach me in the vents.” Tord looked up at him, narrowing his eyes. That look like he was being studied like a lab rat always unnerved the shit out of Tom. “Your shoulders are a little wider than mine but you should fit in the vents just fine.”

“Well, that's brilliant. How do we get out that door?”

“I’m working on it!”

They lapsed back into silence and Tom let the maniacal wheels in Tord’s head spin.

“What do you think they meant by example?” Tom asked finally, unable to hold back the question. He had been mulling it over in his mind, curious what Tord could have done to warrant that kind of punishment. The kind of punishment that meant well... death. Probably.

“I have a few ideas. But really, I don’t plan on finding out. If we can get out of here before they come for... me... they’ll have a hard time dragging me back. I'll make sure of that.” He looked up at the cell door. They had long since shut the lights off for the sleep cycle so the lighting was dim. “By my estimation, we have one hour until we need to get going.”

“An hour?” Tom exclaimed, giving him a blank look.

Tord gave him a triumphant grin, the one that said he knew something Tom didn’t. Which, that was probably a large number of things but whatever.

“When I had that device, the holo-pad, it had arrival and departure schedules for this place.”

“So?”

“One of the ships arriving in…” Tord paused to count as if counting backward. “An hour. It is bound for the Galrath Asteroids if I remember correctly.”

“We’re gonna steal a ship,” Tom said, flashing a wide toothy grin. Now that he could get behind.

“That's the idea,” Tord replied with a matching grin. “We’ll be off this planet before they can even drag me to my trial.”

“How do we even get there?”

“I’m a genius. Photographic memory and all that. I’ve almost got a complete plan.” Tord tapped a finger to his temple. “Now give me your hand for a sec.”

“Why?”

“Will you just do it?” Tord gave a long-suffering sigh.

Tom obeyed, holding his hand out hesitantly. Tord studied it for a second before he reached out and-

“Fuck!” Tom hissed, yanking his hand back, cradling it against his chest. There was a small pinpoint of pain on the back of his hand. “What the fuck Tord?”    

Tord put the dropper and lid back into the green vial.

“I take it that hurt?” Tord asked, not caring to hide a smile.

“Lolifucker…” He muttered, rubbing at the burn. It burned like hell like it would burn through his bones. It would probably be best to remember who was dealing with in the future. It was a dumbass move to just give him his hand.

“Calm down, it was just a tiny drop. I just wanted to test its properties on skin. It does wonders to the metal in here.”

“I would appreciate it if you would tell me before you experiment alien things on me,” Tom sighed, rubbing at the irritated skin.

“Oh, Thomas. Perish the thought.”

30 minutes later Tom and Tord are at the cell door, ready to go. Tord had drilled the plan into Tom’s head over and over again like he was a toddler.

“The sound of the gun will attract attention. So, make sure you get the vent cover off as fast as you can. Got it?”

“For the 5^th time: Yes,” Tom said, gripping the weird metal device in his hand.

“Good.” Tord cocked the gun. He slowly dumped the vial of green liquid where the door met the walls, letting it drip down. It hissed and sizzled, eating away at the metal, wires, and mechanisms quickly. The door slowly pops open a crack.

“Let's wreck some alien shit.”