Code Blue | By : HobNobsAndTea Category: Individual Celebrities > Tom Hiddleston Views: 2054 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: Neither I, nor any of the writers know Tom Hiddleston, his PR people, nor have we ever met him. We do not make any profit from this story other then the enjoyment of writting it. All characters and events are entirely fictional. |
Looking out over the Seine and the setting sun, you sigh. "Damn you."
Tom turns to you, his smile faltering. "What did you-"
You turn and cup his face in your hands. "I said damn you. Because you insufferable, persistent man have broken me."
"I don't understand."
"You win. Despite my being an abominable cunt, you have worked and weaseled and I -"
You shake your head at yourself and him. "I find myself falling in love with you."
He jerks, surprised but overwhelming happy. "The City of Love has worked is magic. And I'm so very glad it did." He kisses you, holding you at the back of the neck.
He reaches up and takes your hands, his fingers curling around yours. "I can't make you any promises. You know I'm not easy."
He positively beams as he kisses you again. Your answering smile isn't as bright but is full of budding love. He pulls your hands away and walks you along the River, holding your hand in his.
"My meeting is late in the morning. Then you have me the rest of the day." He swings your arm forward and back. You stop at a thrown together shop stall selling old books.
You begin to thumb through a small rack until your fingers find something you never thought you'd see, and memories start flooding back to you. You pull it from the shelf carefully, as if it were made of silk thread that would break if you pulled it too harshly. But there was no denying what you held. Your hands shook as you held the book and read the title. "The Velveteen Rabbit".
You looked up and saw Tom walking towards you. He picked up his pace when you looked at him, and screwed his face with worry. "What's wrong, darling? What's the matter?" You had gone white and your shaking intensified. He grabbed you by the shoulders, afraid you would fall. You fought against a dry mouth to explain. "It's the Velveteen Rabbit. This was my favorite book as a little girl, my mother used to read it to me all the time. It was the first book I bought when I found out I-" Your voice faltered. "When I found out I was pregnant for the first time."
A pained expression came across Tom's face at your confession. You would have stopped with anyone else, but you kept going. "I held onto it through all three, and all I thought about was reading it to my own little one. And then when Michael left..." you sniffed. But found the strength to finish, "When Michael left, he threw it out because he said there was no point in having it if there was no one to read it to." You looked up at him, your eyes flashing with anger at the memory. Tom reached up and cupped your cheek. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry." "He was awful. I should never have let him touch me, ever."
"He never will again. I promise you, right now," Tom declared quietly. "I want this. I want to read it to Jacob when I go back." "Then you shall have it." Tom slid the book from your fingers and went to pay for it. The realization hit you that you would never again be treated like anything less than a goddess in Tom's presence, and it made you smile. It melted all the anger, the angst you were feeling then right into the ground under your feet.
The two of you made your way back to the hotel and started getting ready for bed. As you stood at the sink taking off your jewelry, Tom came up behind you, running his fingers up your sides and your arms. He tucked his lips into the crook of your neck, kissing and teasing. You smiled as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against him. You felt his growing erection and arched your butt into him. He groaned and the sound travelled immediately to your core. Sounding as though he was trying to catch his breath, Tom breathed into your ear, "Please, my love..." "What? What is it?" you begged, feeling equally out of breath. "Please, let me make love to you."
You didn’t know what was wrong with you. After you admitted to Tom that you were starting to feel something for him, and thought you wanted to get closer, you found yourself resisting him more than ever. Making excuses or changing the subject for the rest of the vacation. The sex started out where you were letting him be in control, letting things progress slowly, and then you would freak out, take over, and rush through it almost violently just to avoid from letting it get to deep or beyond purely physical. You could see that he was frustrated, and to be honest you were frustrated too. You were closer when you got back from France, but there were still barriers there that wouldn’t let you go any further. It was maddening.
You hadn’t called Tom since you got back from Paris. You’d been completely swamped with paperwork, intakes and things that were usually delegated to interns and newbies. Sitting at your desk Brian comes over and sets down another stack of files.
“Oh, God.” You say rubbing your face with your hand, “Come on Brian, how much more penance do I have to do?” You ask.
“Hey, takes a while to get back into the swing of things. We’re shorthanded, and you’re so good at keeping things done right you’re the perfect candidate. Get a move on, you have rounds to do again before you clock out tonight.” You groan and pick up another folder. Brian starts to walk away but stops and walks back. “. . . and I know you haven’t heard yet, but I thought you should know.” He says solemnly.
The tone in his voice causes the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. “What?”
That night after you were off the clock you stood in the shower, hot water turning your skin red, obscuring the tears that were flowing from your eyes. You washed your hair twice, and scrubbed all over just wanting to get this place off of you. All of it, every single part of it, and let it wash down the drain.
An hour later, you drive home in a daze. Not really paying attention to the road, not really caring. Walking up the steps to your apartment, you walk right past Tom who was sitting on the steps waiting for you. He smiles at first but then it fades seeing the look on your face, the way your eyes were glazed over, completely defeated and numb from crying.
You walk to the door and unlock it, and he quickly gets up following you into the apartment closing the door behind. “Darling?” He questions walking over to you as you drop your things on the table plugging in your phone, you were pretty much running on autopilot. The ghostly stare in your eyes indicating you simply weren’t there.
Turning you go into the kitchen and open the cabinet next to your fridge pulling out a bottle of rum that you usually mixed with something, coke or some other mix, but right now you needed it straight. You pop off the cap and take a long deep drink. “hey, Hey, HEY!” Tom says reaching out and pulling the bottle from you. He puts it on the counter and reaches out resting his hands on your shoulders, “Darling? What is it? What’s wrong?”
You can feel tears starting to threaten to fall again and reach up covering your eyes with your hand as your lip begins to quiver. He draws you into his arms holding you tight, not knowing what was wrong but seeing you more upset then ever. “Talk to me, please?” He says softly.
You hug him back for a moment, before reaching up and wiping the tears from your eyes before they escape and take a few deep breaths. You can’t even look up at him directly. “It’s Jacob.” You say softly hardly able to push the words out past the knot in your throat. “His last round of Chemo didn’t work.” You try to hold it together but you weren’t doing very well, “He’s been moved to hospice care.”
Tom swallows and folds you against his chest. "Oh sweetheart." His own chest is tight. The two of you hold each other and cry together. You feel a clenched fist inside you loosening.
He draws you toward the couch but you draw him to the bedroom. You lay upon the bed, curled to his chest, letting the tears come as they may.
"I'm so tired of losing babies, Tom."
"Don't do this to yourself."
"Well I already have, haven't I?" You roll onto your back staring at the ceiling. Tom lays on his side, his head resting on his hand propped on his elbow. He rubs his thumb back and forth across your belly.
"My first miscarriage, we'd been married just shy of three months. The doctor said I was nine weeks. We'd gotten to hear the heartbeat just the week before." You lay the back of your hand over your eyes. "Michael cried with me. He told me everything I needed to hear. We agreed to try again." You sigh. "The second miscarriage came after our second anniversary. I'd found out I was pregnant right around the holidays. So we considered it a Christmas miracle. A patient. A little girl with cancer of the brain and spinal column had a seizure. She's wasn't more than 10 but she kicked like a mule. Michael wasn't so supportive. He blamed my work. Demanded I quit. Being a cardiologist's wife i didn't need to work. He didn't want me to. Wanted a trophy wife. I refused to quit and went on birth control without his knowledge."
"You don't have to tell me this."
"I don't have to but I want you to know." You take a deep breath then sigh it out. "I got a toothache. My dentist put me on antibiotics. And the one fucking time I wasn't careful, boom pregnant." You take a shuddering breath. "We made it 17 weeks. I'd decreased my shifts at work." You sigh. "I did everything right, Tom. Everything." You lose it. The sobs coming uncontrollably, painful and ugly. Tom gathers you against his chest, shushing you and rubbing your back. It's a good while before you can continue. You take a shakey breath. "Michael was convinced it was my fault. That's where the marriage began it's spiral. He wasn't supportive or loving. And he couldn't blame my job. So he blamed me. I've told you the rest. I've never been as close to a patient as I have Jacob."
You curl into Tom's chest and he tightens his arms. "It's alright to care. To feel. To love. You love that little boy almost as if you were his mother."
"I can't give you children. I won't risk it. Losing three, it nearly destroyed me. I can't-"
"Hush, baby." He smoothes tie hair. "Is that why you won't let me in?"
"Partially."
He pulls you back to look at you, really look at you. "Darling, we've only just begun. You have your career and mine is catching speed. We don't have to talk of babies right now. I'd be an absentee father at best right now. My filming schedule is fairly stacked." He tips your chin up to look into your eyes. "And when the time comes, we'll figure it out. There's adoption and fertility options."
"I don't-"
"I meant like a surrogate. They take your eggs, my sperm, and implant then in a viable surrogate mother."
"You've thought a lot about this. " He looks sheepishly to the side. "I find myself in love with a woman who cannot give me one thing I desire most. So I find a way around it."
"Tom, we've only known each other a couple months. Don't you find odd and just a bit creepy?"
"That's not my intention. I'm sorry. I care deeply for you. And I just want you happy."
"Well right now, happy would be a nice hot bath, take away pizza and a Hitchcock marathon."
"That's absolutely doable, darling." He kisses your forehead. "Draw your bath and take care of dinner."
You both sank into the tub, overflowing with bubbles. It looked like a scene out of a soap opera. Tom wrapped his arms around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head. There was nothing sexual about the scene- he just wanted to do everything he could to help you calm down. You breathed deep as the scent of the lavender bath wash filled your lungs. Tom grabbed your loofah and started massaging you, starting with your back. His strong arms moved slowly up and down your back, and then moved to your shoulders and arms. He lovingly washed your front, careful around your breast s and between your thighs, so as not to give you the wrong idea.
The doorbell rang and he slipped out to answer it. You felt yourself getting pruney, so you figured it was time to get out. The water was colder by yourself anyway. As you pulled the plug and wrapped a towel around yourself, you walked out into your bedroom and saw Tom had laid out your favorite- the pajama pants with the little pink bows from Victoria's Secret, and the little top to match.
You fell asleep somewhere during Notorious, and Tom carried you back to the bed.
You woke up in the middle of the night in a panic- out of breath, heart racing, a cold sweat covering you. You bolted upright, and it scared Tom awake. He pried his eyes open before he reached for you, pulling you down and against him with just a bit of force. "Lie down, darling, just lie back down. It's all right." You started to cry quietly again and he held you fast. He began to "shh" you as he rocked you both back and forth. It wasn't all right. Not right now, anyway. You fell back asleep as best you could before your alarm went off in the morning.
Standing next to your locker you lean your head against it with your eyes closed. The entire day it felt like you weren’t even alive. Just going through the motions of living, trying to get through work without breaking down. You’d called the hospice and found that Jacobs condition had been deteriorating fast. Such a wonderful, brave, and unbelievably happy little boy wasn’t long for this world and it was tearing you apart.
“Hey.” You lift your head seeing Maggie standing next to the doorway.
“Hey.” You turned the lock on your locker before opening it to get your things so you could go home.
“I haven’t seen you, or gotten a chance to talk to you since you came back.” She says taking a few cautious steps towards you. “I know I’m one of the reasons you left, and I’m sorry. I really am. But I’m glad you came back. We need you.”
Pulling out your jacket putting it on, then your purse putting the strap across your shoulder. “Yeah. I keep hearing that.” You say closing the door of your locker almost in a slam.
“Do you maybe want to head out to dinner? My treat?” She asked hoping that maybe you could get to be friends again.
“Not tonight. Tonight I just want to go home.” You say shaking your head. You start to walk past her but pause, “But thank you for the offer. Maybe another time.” Maggie looks disappointed but smiles and nods stepping out of your way as you leave the locker room heading out to your car.
On the way home your phone buzzes and you pick it up seeing a message from Tom.
“Good evening, lovely lady. Hoping you’ll come over tonight once your shift ends. I would love to see you. T. XOX.”
You look at the message for a moment before sighing and tossing your phone onto the passenger seat and turning your car around heading back to the gated community where Tom lived.
A little while later, you park your car before heading up the walkway to Tom’s house. When you get there, you start to knock but stop seeing a note on the door, recognizing your name written in Tom’s hand. You pick it up and open it to read, “Come in.” It says simply.
This was weird. You turn the door handle and go inside. You notice that there isn’t any lights turned on finding it dark for the most part except for the candlelight emanating from numerous candles around the house. You arch a brow seeing rose petals scattered on the floor making a trail that you were obviously meant to follow.
You can’t help but smile as you close the door. This all felt very much like him for some reason. You take off your coat hanging it and your purse up by the door before walking in further following the trail of rose petals finding more candles lit. “Tom?” You call out.
You continue walking through the house following the flowers and candles until they end at his bedroom door. You knock slightly, “Tom?” You call again finding no response. You open the door and step inside to find a number of candles lit around the room, rose petals leading to the bed and scattered about the black satin sheets. Walking in further, you see a bottle of wine, two filled glasses beside it waiting on the table. Slowly you turn around looking at the extremely romantic scene having through things like this only ever happened in the movies.
Tom seems to appear out of nowhere standing behind you and resting his hands on your shoulders. You jump a little startled at first causing him to chuckle before his hands moved to your waist putting you back against him placing gentle kisses to your neck and shoulder holding you tight against him. You close your eyes leaning your head back against him moving your head to the side to give him better access. His arms wrap around you embracing you to his body. Taking a breath you turn to face him, finding he wore black pajama pants and no shirt. You start to say something but are stopped when he reaches up and cups your face placing a tender kiss on your lips.
Tom walks you backwards to the bed. Your calves bump against it but he doesn't force you to sit. He pulls the scrub top and your undershirt over your head, breaking the kiss long to do so. Skillful fingers unclasp your bra and glide it down your arms. He cups a breast in reach hand, pushing them together and kneading them. Sighing, muscles relaxing, you push your chest out into his hands.
You knew what he was doing. He had tried this before. To make love you. You'd tried but that fear of being hurt made you panic. He'd gone to so much effort tonight.
"You taste so sweet." His palms skim over your arms. A shudder passes through you, pulling your nipples even tighter.
Kissing down your neck and chest. He unties your scrub pants. Grabbing the sides of the pants and panties at your hips, he pulls them down slowly, planting light kisses at each exposed line of flesh.
You twist your thighs back and forth.
"Why are you nervous, pet?"
"I'm not nervous." Ok, that was a lie.
"Liar." How could he read you so well. "Don't be. Just let me touch and you kiss. You don't have to do anything but enjoy it."
He kisses your lower belly, licking and kissing. "Tom-"
"No talking." He lifts your feet out of your shoes then out your pants, slipping the socks off as he goes. Dipping his head between your legs, he kisses that spot behind your knee. They buckle slightly but your right yourself. "I want to hear you sigh and moan. But the only words you will speak tonight will be oh, god, yes, and my name."
"You're being rather dominate tonight, lover."
He nips the back of your other knee. You cry out in enjoyment. "Those weren't on your list of words."
You bite your lip to keep from making a smart ass comment. He'd taken your trigger and used it against you.
He lays a hand flat on your belly but takes ahold of your hip with his other. The tip of his nose presses into your folds. He slips his fingers inside you and moves them in a come hither motion. He teases your clit with the top of his nose then presses his tongue flat against you. Your hips involuntarily buck.
Tom works you until you're gasping, grabbing hold of your hair. He feels your body tremble and tighten then stops.
You cry out in surprise. Your back coming up against the bed. He just shoved you.
Using his hands and mouth, he brings you so very close to cumming and leaves you wanting.
"Darling, look at me." You open your eyes. Finding him about you, you smile.
"You're a devious bastard."
"But I'm YOUR devious bastard." His fingertips dance down your ribs. "Don't look away."
He's done the prep work and he slides right in. You gasp, shaking. He pulls out so very slowly then glides back in. He doesn't let you look away, watching the way your face changes with each thrust and withdraw.
You've lost track of all time and by the time you cum, you're shaking and crying. He kisses each cheek then your lips. Wine forgotten and his own orgasm denied, he pulls against his chest.
"Darling?"
Tom sits up in bed, your warmth gone from his side.
"I'm over here." You're sitting in his chair with your knees drawn up. The moon filters in through cracks in the curtains.
"Are you ok?"
"I'm fine."
"Liar." Your voice is thick with your tears. "Talk to me."
"That was amazing."
"I sense a but."
"You do." You sigh. "But I'm not ready for that. You can't love me like that."
"Oh and you're the expert on his I feel?"
"Don't be angry. The night has been amazing. But it just hurts too much."
"My intention wasn't too hurt you."
"I know. Fuck. I'm making a mess of this."
You drop your legs and cross to the bed, sitting next to him. You tuck your foot under you. You'd pulled on your undershirt and your panties when you'd woken up.
"I'm letting you in. I'm trying. That bitchy part of me wants to tell you to back the fuck off and let me have my space. But that's not fair to you." You take his hands in yours. "I'm trying. And I know you're trying. But I can't take that."
"Will you at least tell me why?"
"Why i don't want you to make love to me?" You comb your fingers through your hair. "Because i don't feel like I deserve it."
He creases his brow at you. "What? What are you talking about?" Tom questions. You knew this was coming, sooner or later.
"I don't-- I mean, I just don't deserve to...be loved the way you want to love me. I just don't," you tell him, your voice laced with humiliation. You couldn't meet his gaze, but you could tell he was looking at you in confusion and shock.
"What on earth...why would you ever think that?" "Because...it's what I know to be the case. It's what I've known for the last nine years, since things spiraled out of control with Michael. It's what he told me over and over again until I realized he was right. It's how I've been treated since then with other guys. I don't let anybody in because I don't deserve that."
You stopped. You glanced up at Tom long enough to gauge his reaction. You saw what was coming though, because you had experienced this before. He would look at you and agree with you, tell you to get your things and leave and never come back. And you would go back to your private, encapsulated little life alone. But what actually happened made your eyes almost come out of your head. "Come here," Tom said forcefully. Your head snapped up to him, and you saw his scowl. "Right now."
You crawled closer to him, and he pulled you into his lap. He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, and pulled it up to look him directly in the eye. He was clearly not in a playing mood. "Listen to me. I am tired of all this negative, ridiculous talk about yourself. Do you have any idea how often you demean yourself? Talk about yourself like you're nothing but trash? I've had enough of it, to be honest." You interrupt his lecture, "Tom, don't start-" "I'm not done," he spoke over you. You stilled and shut your mouth. He continued, "I won't have any more of it. If you had any idea how much I care about you, you would realize it's not just you that those words hurt."
You drew a slow breath, processing what he had just told you. "I'm trying, Tom. I really am. But when the last man who told you he cared about you turns you out and tells you how unloveable you are because you can't give him the one thing he wants, it fucks with your head, righteously. You have to understand that. This is *not* easy for me, and I *am* trying." Tom loosened his hold on your chin, moving his hand to your cheek. His tone softened. "I know you are. I just wish I knew what to say to help you understand." You laughed a little. "You know for someone who can get inside the headspace of two dozen different characters, I thought you might get it- it has nothing to do with you. It's about my fucked-up head. I've had almost a decade of this, and a handful of months with you is not going to change it."
Tom's face softened more and he looked down, thinking. You got scared suddenly that this would be the moment he would tell you to get your things. But instead, he said in a half-whisper, "Don't ever talk about yourself like that again. You deserve far more than even I could give you." "I don't believe you." "Too bad. I'm not the one who's lied twice tonight," he smirked at you. You made a face- he wasn't wrong about that, really. He continued, "I mean it. Don't talk like that anymore." You lowered your eyes from his, but Tom ran his hand to the back of your head and gently pulled it back up. You weren't getting out without agreeing. You looked him back in the eye and nodded lightly. His eyes still intense and tinged with worry and hurt, he pulled your into him for a kiss.
You sigh before giving a nod. “Come on, it’s been a long day. Let’s get some sleep.” He kisses you softly before the two of you lay down curled up in each other’s arms as he pulls the cover up over both of you. He kisses you softly again before settling in.
A few minutes later your eyes open and you lay starring at the wall. You never should have let him in. It was becoming apparent to you that he wasn’t going to be able to let you go. No matter how much you pushed him away, it just seemed to make him hold on tighter.
The next day sitting at your computer you enter the last of the intake forms for the patients that were admitted the night before after you’d clocked out. “Hey.” Looking up you see Maggie holding to cups of coffee holding one out to you. “It’s the good stuff. Not that crap that’s in the break room.” She was still trying to make things up to you even though you didn’t really count her as a friend anymore. Relenting you reach up and take the cup of coffee and she smiles before sitting down in the chair next to you.”I’m really glad your back. We were really afraid that we’d lost you.”
“Seriously?” You say giving her a look, “Because condoms still keep popping up all over the place from that little ‘prank’ you all pulled on us.”
“Well. From what I understand it there were a lot of people in on that prank. Probably going to keep finding them for a little while.” She admits sheepishly.
You didn’t really want to talk about personal stuff anymore and punch up a file on the computer, “This says that Amanda was discharged a few days ago. You were her attending nurse after I left.”
“Yes. She started getting a lot better all of a sudden. She was eating, taking her meds, cooperating, really responding to her treatment. She was on her feet again before the doctor signed her discharge orders.” You smile shaking your head slightly. If Tom only knew what he and his friends small appearance did for the morale in this hospital. You turn off computer before gathering the files to put in the records room and standing. “Hey.” Maggie stands up quickly. “I’m sorry about what happened. Really. I know I was part of the problem and I just . . . . I’m sorry.”
You take a breath and give a nod, “I’ve got to get these on the shelf. I’ve got another set of rounds to do before I can clock out tonight.” Maggie could see that this was all she was going to get right now and gave a smile with a nod. Turning away you went into the records room and sigh shaking your head putting the records back where they belonged.
After work you head home taking a shower and changing into pajama’s before you start your laundry. You were a little behind and had to get them all washed before you could turn in. Plopping down on the couch you turn on the TV and start aimlessly flipping through channels with a sigh.
Your cellphone notification for an email goes off. Your eyes widen in excitement. TV forgotten you start to make a list of things to do.
You'd have to talk to Brian. He wouldn't be happy. Your landlord. The utility companies. So many things to do in two weeks. Shit. Were you ready for this? Were you really doing this? Shit. Shit. Shit! You could think of two people to tell this news to: Tom and Jacob.
You had so much nervous energy. No way you could go to bed now. Almost on cue, a knock at your door. Tom waited in the hall with a take out bag and a six pack.
You throw open the door. "Hey you!"
"Hey! You're in an awfully good mood."
"I am. I am. Come on in." He sets the food and beer on the kitchen table. "Listen. I'm off tomorrow. I want you to go with me to visit Jacob."
"Of course."
"I have some news for you both."
“What is this place?” Tom asks when you get out of the car. You pause next to the jeep starring at the entrance. You never liked it here either.
“It’s hospice care.” You say solemnly. “This is where people are sent when we can’t help them anymore. To be made comfortable until . . . .” You sigh not wanting to say it out loud. Looking down you shake your head finding it hard to breathe.
Tom walks up beside you and takes your hand in his holding it tight. It wasn’t any easier for him considering how well he’d gotten to know Jacob and how close they had come. “You aren’t alone.” He says gently.
“I hate it here.” Your voice is soft as you take a moment to suck it up just a bit. You couldn’t very well go into this place in tears or even with a sad face. It was bad enough that it was only one half step up from a mortuary as it was. “It’s no place for a child.”
He leans over kissing your cheek squeezing your hand letting you know that you could lean on him if you needed too. You gave a nod looking at him letting him know the same. Together you walk into the building and sign in before going to Jacob’s room.
You knock quietly on the door before opening it seeing Jacob lying in bed, hooked up to a number of machines. He’s very pale, even thinner than before, and there were dark circles around his eyes. You feel a knot in your throat but when his tired eyes open a smile sweeps his face. “Hey!” He says. “I knew you’d come see me.” His smile grows a little larger, “And Tom!”
Tom smiles, “Hey buddy.” He walks over next to the bed, “Have something for you here.”
“What is it?” He says unable to sit up.
“It’s a present from your friend that came by the hospital a while ago.” A leather strap bracelet that had Thor with his Hammer stamped into it. Below it, it said Loki with his horns stamped next to it. Tom fastens it to his wrist for him.
“Wow, cool!” He says still smiling his eyes moving back to you. You’re having a hard time looking at him, but his hand slowly reaches out for yours. Instantly you step closer and gently take it. “Don’t be sad. It’s okay. In a little while, it won’t hurt anymore. I won’t be sick.” The tears in your eyes are making it hard to see but you were refusing to let them fall in front of him. “I’ll get to see my Nan again. She’ll be happy to see me.”
Oh God. You didn’t know if you were going to be able to go through with this. Sometimes, children with cancer, were so completely amazing. Even at his young age he seemed to understand what was happening, and what was worse, accepted it.
“Make her smile Tom.” Jacob says looking up at him, “You’re good at that.” He smiles softly.
You pull up a chair. "I have news. For both of you. I couldn't think of anyone else to share with it. But first. Tom, i think you should tell him who you are."
Tom looks at you. "Are you sure? The mask?"
"He's already sick. I don't think your mask of for a few seconds is going to make much difference." Your voice was tired. But the boy deserved to know that his best friend at the end was one of his idols.
"Alright."
He pulls the mask down and turns to Jacob. The little boy recognizes him instantly. "Loki?! I'm best buds with Loki!"
His smile was worth it. For a brief moment, he was once again that little boy you met three years. The sunshine on your shift. You excused yourself before either of them could hear your sob. Out in the hall, it smells worse off urine and vomit. You clench your fists.
You nearly jump out of your skin when Tom touches your shoulder. "You ok?"
"No. I'm ready to get the fuck out of here."
You duck back into the room and sit down. "My news. Ok, while I was on vacation, I applied to Doctors without Borders. I had an interview before we went to Paris. And they accepted me! I leave for central Africa in two weeks."
"That's great. What does that mean?"
"It means I'm going to help kids who don't have doctors and nurses in their own countries."
"That's so cool."
Tom looks at you, shocked to say the least. "How-How long are you going to be gone?"
"I think they said a year."
"I'm meeting with them next week to get all the details."
Tom swallows. "That's wonderful." You can see his disappointment but this was something you needed to do. You could feel it in your heart.
You both stayed with Jacob for a while longer before you left. Seeing him there in that bed was a little more than you could take. You kept your promise to yourself that you wouldn't cry in front of him, though. It wasn't easy. "Will you come back tomorrow? Both of you?" You looked across the bed at Tom and he looked back.
His own eyes more than a little bit shiny. "We'll try, Jacob. I promise," you reply. You lean forward and press a kiss to his forehead through the mask. Your hand runs through his short hair, and he looks up at you with a smile. He was so innocent, and the thought that he wouldn't be a part of your life much longer sent the tears rushing back again. You stepped out of the room, leaning back against the wall with your own head thrown back and your eyes closed. But Tom hadn't said his goodbyes yet.
He held Jacob's small hand in the bed and squeezed it. Jacob looked over at him as you shut the door to his room. "Is Nurse (y/n) sad, Tom?" He didn't know how to answer. He took a breath and smiled as best he could.
"Umm...she is, buddy. She's going to miss you very much. She always liked taking care of you best."
"I don't like seeing her sad. She always made me happy. Nurse (y/n) always watched your movie with me."
"She told me."
"Yeah...I think it was her favorite, too." There was a beat of silence before Jacob said softly, "Is she leaving the hospital because she's sad?"
Tom was silent again as he racked his brain for a response. "I don't know, kiddo. It does look that way, doesn't it?"
"You have to make her happy again, you know? You can always make her smile. I always thought she liked Loki best, anyway." Jacob's confession made Tom smile and he laughed just a little.
"You think so? I can always make her smile? Well....I'm going to test that theory." Tom stood from the bed and leaned over to hug Jacob as best he could. Jacob lifted his arms and wrapped them gingerly around Tom's neck.
"We'll try our very best to come back and see you tomorrow, all right?" Jacob nodded.
Tom walked out of the room, and you looked up when you heard the soft click of the handle. He didn't even know what to say to you. He felt angry and betrayed, hurt and lonely, sad for himself and happy for you, all at the same time. He pulled you up from your seat as you extended your hand to him and declared quietly, "Let's go home. We have to talk."
Sitting quietly with Tom in your living room for a very long awkward amount of time his voice finally breaks the silence. “When were you going to tell me that you even applied?”
“It was a long shot that they were going to accept me. I didn’t want to bring it up if it was pointless. I’m really really lucky that they accepted my application with no previous field work outside a hospital.” You reply.
“This is going to take you a long ways away. I won’t get to see you anymore.” He says softly.
“How is this any different than your job that takes you all over the world for months at a time?” You question. “You are doing what makes you happy and are lucky enough to get paid for it. Shouldn’t I be allowed to chance for the same?”
He sighs and stands pacing slightly, “I suppose it would be unfair of me to say no.” He turns looking at you, “When did you apply? Did you apply after we started seeing each other?”You pause a moment before turning your eyes away, a gesture that more then answered his question. “Did you apply because you really wanted to do this or were you just looking for a reason, an excuse to run away from me?”
“This is a chance to help people that really need it. A place where the work is more important than the paycheck or the prestige it might bring. It’s all about helping out people who really need help that could never afford it in their lifetimes.” You stand as well walking over to him. “It was a long shot when I signed up. Maybe . . . maybe you did have something to do with it, a little bit. Maybe you short of gave me a shove in the direction I actually wanted to go in for a long time.”
“I don’t want you to go. Not yet. Not like this.” He says looking into your eyes.
You take a breath, “Tom.” You begin slowly. “You’ve helped me a lot. More then you know. More then you even realize or even think you have. You have been so very kind to me, and made me feel like I’m not a total loss. Not just a waste of space and air, as some would have me believe. But now it’s time for me to go help someone else. Sort of paying it forward I guess. I can’t do that here.”
“You can’t just keep running away like this.” He replied softly.
“I’m not running away from anything. I’m running towards something. Something better. Somewhere where my life will mean something and will make a difference in a lot of lives. Where I can be more by living for others instead of just myself.” He sighs looking away. “I really want this, Tom. Please don’t try and take it away by making me feel like I’m betraying you.”
"You can't possibly know what it's like over there. It's wild and dangerous, and--" Tom spouted off. You cut him shirt before he can continue, "Then you know how badly they need someone like me. I can make a difference, Tom. There are children there that I can help, and you know that. You've seen that with your own eyes."
He sniffled, holding back his tears. "This is so dangerous, darling, I don't think you realize." "You're not going to talk me out of this, Tom. I can't even talk myself out of it," you tell him. He looked at you and his eyes were filled with worry and anger and fear all at the same time. You placed a hand on his cheek and he took hold of your wrist and kissed your palm. "Please don't be upset with me. You know I have to do this," you plead quietly. "And besides, it's only for a year. You'll be busy filming anyway, you won't even have time to spend with me like we do now." "That's not true, I would make the time, I would, I promise."
"If you love me as much as you tell me you do, then you wouldn't make me feel like I'm betraying you for this. This isn't an attack on you, or some terrible notion of running from you. I can't just sit here in my flat and ignore the world around me anymore, not when I know I can help." You ended your speech, but Tom looked no better because of it. Your heart clenched looking at him. He looked like a man in the very throes of despair. "You're asking me to not be upset that the woman I love is going to a dangerous place, where she could be hurt or worse, where there is hardly even enough water or food or supplies, for an entire year? I can't do that. I won't," he protested. "But....I know damn well better than to fight you on this."
"You're a quick learner," you joke, desperately trying to lighten the mood a little. Tom barely smiles as he looks down to you again. His eyes full of hurt and fear still, he whispers, "I don't want you to go." "I know. But it's not up to you. We still have two more weeks, remember? Could we make them good weeks? I'll need something to get me through the next year. Something to bring me home," you bargain.
Tom smiles a little more as you wrap your arms around his waist. He pulls you in close as he whispers, "Of course. Anything you want, my darling."
A few days later, Tom comes to your flat and knocks on the door. When you don’t answer he turns the handle finding it wasn’t locked and was open. He shook his head as he had told you numerous times it was unsafe. Stepping inside, he closed the door behind him. “Darling?” He hears your voice in the bedroom and follows it. Opening the door, he finds you on the phone pacing as it seemed you were incredibly upset.
“Look, you fucker. I can move if it damn well pleases me. You can’t stop me from going, and as long as I keep paying my half of the god damn bill, no one else is going to stop me either.” There’s a pause as you listen to his reply. “Well maybe if you didn’t try to max out every fucking credit card we had before the divorce was final we wouldn’t have to stay in fucking contact to pay off the debt!!” There’s another pause. “I DON’T CARE!! I DON’T WANT TO FUCKING HEAR IT! Keep your motherfucking problems to yourself and LEAVE ME ALONE!!” You yell hanging up the phone before throwing it across the room as it hit the wall and fell to the ground.
Crossing your arms you turn to see Tom had come in. You sigh shaking your head realizing he probably heard all that. “You’re ex?” Tom asks.
“Asshole was worried that I wasn’t going to keep paying off the debt the court ordered us each to pay half of. Scared that it was going to ruin HIS credit. As if mine wasn’t shot to hell because of his little spending spree on a card that had my fucking name on it.” You continue to pace still incredibly angry wishing Michael was standing right in front of you so you could punch his irritating face.
“Was it a large debt?” He questions.
“$45,000 dollars. We’ve paid off maybe $17,000 since the divorce went through. He likes to call and whine at me sometimes about how he’s got a family to feed and bills to pay and how inconvenient it is that he has to pay off MY debt. Like I’m going to fucking feel sorry for his dumb ass when he’s the one who did this.” You vent.
Walking over to you he gently catches your arm pulling you towards him. With a sigh you wrap your arms back around him closing your eyes resting your face to his chest in anger and frustration. Maybe the good think about your taking this job and moving so far away was that he wouldn’t be able to get to you like this. “Phone reception where you’re going is pretty poor. He won’t be able to get through to you very often, if at all.”
“I’m never going to get rid of that bastard.”
Friday, pay day, finds you on your couch. You stare at the empty shot glass. Tom knocks on your door then let's himself in.
"I brought pizza. And ice cream." His smile falls when he sees your tear stained face and the half empty bottle of Jameson. He slowly sets the food on the kitchen table. "What's wrong, darling?" He sits down next to you.
"Jacob's mom called this afternoon. She wanted to thank us for taking such good care of him. And she wanted to thank you for befriending him."
"That was nice." He keeps his tone guarded and questioning.
"I wanted to be the one to tell you. Tom, Jacob passed away this morning."
"But I was just there yesterday." His chest hitches. "Oh bloody hell." He buries his face in your shoulder and cries. The both of you hold each other and cry. When the tears have dried, Tom silently got up and got the pizza. He puts the ice cream in your freezer. You find an old Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movie.
You don't bother with plates. Tom sits back on the couch, his arm along the back. You curl into his side. The pair of you don't say much.
When he makes love to you, it's sweet and sad. You don't even get angry. He needs this. And maybe you do too. Tom falls asleep before you. You lay awake listening to his slow steady breath and his strong heartbeat.
Was Africa really what you wanted to do? Or was Tom right again? Were you running from life here? You'd have to go to find out. You couldn't stay on Peds anymore. Jacob's death was different. You'd taken care of him for three years. It didn't feel like losing a patient. You'd lost another child.
Your chest hitches but you don't want to cry again. You turn your face into Tom's chest. He smells like Armani code and sweat. You'd never forget him and this month together.
You refused to get out of bed until Saturday evening. Flat out refused. Tom did everything he could- bargaining, threatening, he even went as far as to beg you and ply you with promised shopping trips. Everything except bodily remove you from the bed and stick you into your shower. And when you finally did leave your bed, it was only to get a drink of water.
Tom jumped off the couch at the sight of you shuffling out of the bedroom. "Hey, are you all right? Do you need anything? What is it?" he pleaded, his eyes searching your face for any sign of anything. But as numb as you were, he wasn't going to find anything. "Water, please," you eked out. You were absolutely bone dry. He zipped around the counter and pulled the biggest glass you had down from the shelf and filled it. He came back around and handed it to you, pulling you into a chair at your kitchen table. He knelt down beside you still looking for anything in your face. "Darling, will you talk to me? Please? I know you're hurting, what can I do? Please, tell me something," he begged. Your eyes finally met his. You knew all he wanted to do was help, but the only thing you wanted was to be left alone. You had way too much thinking to do at the moment to deal with another person, let alone the person who was at the core of most of it.
You reached out to stroke his cheek. He really did love you, didn't he? That was something else entirely to think about. "Go home, ducky. I just want to be alone right now."
Tom leaned back a bit with a confused look. Go home? You nodded to him. "I mean it. I need some time by myself right now, and I think you do too. I'll call you a little later, okay?"
Tom pressed his face a little harder into your hand and closed his eyes. "You promise you'll call me the very moment you need me if you do?" "I will. I promise," you concede. It was the only way he was going to leave, you knew. He stood up and kissed your temple and whispered, "I love you" in your ear, and made his way to the door. You followed behind and shut the door after him, and as you turned back around, you saw your Doctors Without Borders contract on your kitchen counter. It was still unsigned. That was only a spoke in the wheel of insanity you had to think about.
If you were really running like Tom said you were, this was only going to make it worse. You weren't just running from a bad marriage or a bad job. You were running from the country. And you were only going to be running to somewhere, where it was probably worse. Probably hell, you knew it would be. You started to make a pot of coffee and went to the bedroom to grab your journal. It was going to be a long night of thinking and you were just getting started.
The next evening, Tom insisted that you go out with him having made plans that he desperately wanted to take you for. Rather then risking that hung puppy dog look he did so well you agreed. He’d made reservations at a high end restaurant and you had to dress accordingly. You had a little black dress that you hadn’t worn in a while that was due for a wearing. You put your hair up in dancing curls, put on your little black dress, and stockings that had seems that went down the back with black heels.
You heard Tom come into your apartment and called back you would be ready to go as soon as you finished putting on your make-up. You’d been feeling a little under the weather the past three days but you assumed it was just stress and grieving from Michael, to your getting ready to leave, to Jacob’s passing, to Tom who seemed unwilling to accept that you were moving and there was no way he could talk you out of it.
Looking at yourself in the mirror deciding you were ready you came out of the bathroom turning off the light. When you came out into the living room you stopped a little awestruck by the gorgeous man that stood in your living room. He was in a black suit, his hair trimmed and combed, clean shaven, and looking incredibly spiffy. Like all those magazines that he did photoshoots for, or even when he was just walking down a red carpet. He was rather handsome.
Tom stares at you in just as much wide eyed awe. The dress was short and extremely tight fitting showing of your lovely womanly figure, your beautiful long legs, and the way you had done your hair and makeup made your eyes pop. “Wow.” He says taking in your whole beautiful picture unable to look away or blink.
“You’re so handsome.” You say starring back at him. Your eyes meet and both of you feel silly and laugh a bit. Tom walks closer and takes your hand.
“Shall we sweet lady?” He says kissing your knuckles before looking up at you. You shake your head a smile. Tom grins wrapping your arm around his as he escorts you from the apartment to take you out for a night on the town.
At the restaurant, it felt like ‘high-end’ was an understatement. You felt a little uncomfortable and a bit out of place but you remained gracious just focusing on Tom. Several times during dinner, there were long drawn out stretches of silence where Tom would just hold your hand tight in his as though he was gathering the courage to talk to you about something that was on his mind, but the words never seem to make it passed his lips.
When dinner was over, it seemed like he wasn’t ready for the night to end and instead he drives you to the park where the two of you get out and walk through the moonlight together holding hands. He was still eerily quiet and it was starting to unnerve you.
“Tom.” You finally say, “What is it? There’s been something on your mind all night that’s obviously eating away at you. Just . . . get it out there.”
“I’m afraid to.” He confesses. “I’m afraid that if I do . . .” He sighs, “You’re already running away I don’t want you to disappear too.”
You close your eyes and sigh crossing your arms around yourself knowing that this wasn’t going to go well, whatever it was. “I leave in two days Tom. Just say it and get it out of your system. You’ve warned me that I’m probably not going to like it, so I can brace myself for it and not flip out. Okay?”
“That’s just it.” He begins, “If I know you aren’t going to like it, then why even bring it up? They’re just random thoughts that have gone through my head. I would like to share them with you, discuss them with you . . . but I don’t want to drive you further away.” He explains. “I’m barely holding onto you by a thread as it is.”
“Tom . . .”
“No, no.” He takes a deep breath, “Okay.” Walking over to a nearby bench he sits you down before sitting next to you holding your hand tight in his. “These are just random thoughts mind you.”
“Okay.” Why did it feel like you were waiting to be hit by a bus?
He pauses another minute before looking into your eyes. “Have you truly and honestly given up on having children of your own?” He questions.
You stare at him blankly, “Tom, I told you. I can’t. I’ve had 3 miscarriages I know about, there may have been others that just weren’t that far along.” What on earth was going on in his head?
“But you’re still young enough to try again. Under different circumstances, a different environment, perhaps with proper care? It could make the difference. It’s been years since your last pregnancy, perhaps your body would be able to carry to term now. If you attempted it.” He says softly.
This was unbelievable, why in the hell was he pouring salt in an open wound? Closing your eyes you shake your head in disbelief. “I’ve accepted this, it took me a long time to get to the point of accepting it, and instead of living in false hope I decided to face my reality head on.” You state looking at him again. “Why in the hell would you bring this up?”
“Because maybe . . . because . . . .” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “Because I think I would like to try with you.”
The world seemed to freeze in place as you just looked at him wide eyed. Did he just say that? He didn’t just say that. It was impossible, you must have imagined it. You had a stroke and you were laying in the hospital in a coma. That is the only rational explanation for this. It had to be. Then the world started to flood back quickly as a huge ball of anger inside of you begins to tighten and your eyes darken as you stare at him. “Why.” You say in a low voice becoming more enraged by the moment, “So you can get your hopes up? So I can get my hopes up? So you can hate me too when I lose YOUR baby as well? So I can really end up in the mental hospital this time!?! Or maybe so the next suicide attempt can be a success?” He shook his head quickly reaching for your hand again except you stand taking a few steps out of his reach, your hands clinching in fists at your side so tight they were turning white.
“I knew it, I knew I shouldn’t have told you I should have just kept it to myself.” He says closing his eyes rubbing his face with his hand. Shaking your head you turn and start to walk away. Instantly he stands, “Wait, where are you going?”
“HOME!” You shout.
“Let me take you home, you can’t walk through the park by yourself at night.” He starts to follow after you but you whip around starring daggers at him.
“The hell I can’t. I can’t even be around you right now. Just go home Thomas.” You start to walk away then walk back, “You know what? I was having serious doubts about leaving. I’d just about talked myself out of going last night. Thank you so much for wiping every single doubt out and letting me know I was making the right fucking decision in leaving.” With that you turn on your heel storming away.
When you were well away and out of his sight, you pause and unbuckle your heels taking them off and carrying them with you. They weren’t exactly meant for hiking. You continue to storm through the park in the direction of your flat, tears streaming from your eyes causing your mascara and eyeliner to run. You could barely see through the tears, and the pain in your heart. Of course you would have liked to try again. Tom would be everything that Michael wasn’t. He wouldn’t leave you alone and wouldn’t blame you for something that wasn’t your fault. But it just wasn’t realistic. You hadn’t known each other that long and he was in some weird daze imagining he wanted kids with you. He must have been completely insane. After a while you have to stop leaning against a tree just broken down in tears. If there was a question of weather or not you were using this to run away, it was answered now. You couldn’t run fast enough.
You didn't know you had that many tears in you, you had pushed them down for so long. Your feet gave out slowly underneath you as you cried harder and harder and slipped down to the ground. Your stockings ripped, your dress probably ruined. The bark scratched your back, and you could feel the sting hit it. You couldn't get low enough. Now sitting on the ground, you found yourself bent over, face almost in the dirt. Who knows how long you you laid there, sobbing and wailing.
You heard a familiar noise but couldn't even react. A very powerful engine. It came to a stop in front of you, it sounded like. You heard the door swing open and feet scramble towards you. Strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you up. You knew who it was. And quite frankly, you were too tired to stop him or anyone else for that matter. Your head pounded from your own screaming, yet you couldn't stop. Your throat was raw from wailing. You were sure your face was completely black from your mascara and eyeliner. You couldn't see anyway.
You had no idea how long the two of you laid there under that tree. It could have been minutes or hours. You balled your hands up into fists as you struck at everything you could reach- the ground, Tom's chest, his back, even yourself. Finally, you felt you had hit the bottom. Every single tear you had suppressed had made its way to the surface. Every child of your own you had lost, every one of your patients you hadn't been able to save. Jacob. The abuse you suffered at Michael's hands. The abuse you continued to deal with from him. You felt Tom's chest catch as you clawed at it weakly. How could he ask you that? Why? What was he thinking? Most guys would have run screaming from you by now, what the hell was in his head?
You finally got still. You were entirely drained- the crying took every ounce of energy from you and left behind not just physical pain. The pain of everything you had tried to cover up was right in front of you. It felt like it was going to crush you. Tom took advantage of the fact you were too tired to protest, and picked you up. He carried you to his car and buckled you in. You curled into a ball in the seat away from him. You heard him run back for your shoes and then climb into his own seat. You felt him reach out for you and try to stroke your shoulder, but you jerked away. He didn't move his hand at first, in disbelief that you would react like that. You heard him sniffle a little bit, and open his mouth to say something. After a moment he put the car in gear and headed in what you hoped was the direction of your apartment.
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo