Tintin X Reader

Chapter 11: The Shephard Shuttle

(Your POV)

"Maybe this morning..." I said to myself. "Tintin will wake up."

Yes, it had been some time since he fell unconscious. Yesterday night, to be exact, but I couldn't stop thinking about Tintin. The paramedics tended to him and said he'd probably be fine. But they mentioned if Tintin doesn't wake after a certain amount of time, he would need to be taken into the hospital.

My stomach hurt whenever I thought about him.
'He'll be okay!' I tried to think. 'Tintin's tenacious, strong, and brave! He won't let a few bumps stop him... except... for the fact that they are serious ones! What if he never wakes up?! It's all my fault this has happened to him! What do I do? How can I fix this?!'

I groaned at the conflict my brain was having about the issue. But there was nothing I could do besides hope he'd be better. I wouldn't give up on Tintin, not for a moment!

I walked back inside from taking a stroll on our street. Thompson and Thomson recommended I stay at the apartment for a while if those dang thugs spot me and try kidnapping me again. But I really wanted to walk outside to clear my mind, so I woke up super early and made sure only to stroll Labrador Road for my safety.

Ms. Finch greeted me at the door.

"Is he awake yet by any chance?" I asked her doubtfully.

It had been a couple of hours that I was out, and I hoped to receive good news when I got back.

"Not yet, lass," she answered. "Just give 'em time. He had a nasty fall!"

I sighed.

"Yeah... I know."

"Would you like to read another story?" Ms. Finch asked. "It helps me unwind; perhaps it'll help you."

I looked her in the eyes and smiled a tiny bit. We both had become chummy reading buddies since my arrival. It helped that Ms. Finch was good at storytelling, so I preferred to listen to her the whole time rather than taking a turn to read out loud myself.

The smile faded as the same heartfelt tug forced me to look upstairs in Tintin's apartment direction. I bit my lip. Maybe he was awake but hadn't left his room yet?

"Actually, do you think..." I trailed. "It would be okay if I checked on him real quick? You know... just to make sure he ain't dying on us?" I said, forcing a lighthearted chuckle.

It was not really a laughing matter, but I didn't want Ms. Finch knowing how worried I was.

She smiled reassuringly and nodded.

"Of course, love." She started walking away. "I'll go cook you some breakfast!"

I smiled as she left and stared at the flight of stairs. Slowly, I walked up them and approached Tintin's apartment door.

I bit my lip and fought against the tightness of my throat.
'Maybe this is stupid? I don't know... but I gotta see if he's okay...'

I knocked lightly and listened for a response. Sadly, there was nothing. Not a peep from the other side of the door. Hesitantly, I turned the knob and cringed at the loud creak sound it made in the process.

When I heard footsteps, I stopped.

"Tintin? Are you up?" I whispered.

I gasped when the cute white terrier jumped in front of the crack in the door. I gave him a pat then pushed the door open to look inside.

There was a quiet ticking of a clock that rested on Tintin's mantle. I examined the interior before taking a couple of light steps into the room. It was dark because the lights were off. I looked around and spotted the clever ginger-head laying peacefully on a red sofa.