Hello Again (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

September 2013: Ruins and a Beacon

“I hope the rain holds off a bit.  The roads are not the best when it starts pouring.” Marcel sighs, looking up.  As if on cue, it starts to drizzle, but only just a bit.  Johnathan begins snapping a few pictures, and we look around just long enough to get a feel for the place, sticking closer to the cars than we did at Alwinton.

“Darling, are you okay to do the drive home?” Bernard walks over to where I’m standing, huddled under an umbrella. 

“Sure.” I nod, shivering briefly against the cooling weather.

“Marcel wants to go to the coast, and I’ve offered to extend the trip.  Since you and Tom are both headed back to London, I figured you could take the rental and head back.” Bernard nods toward the little jalopy that Tom, Marcel and Johnathan had been carting around in.  I take a deep breath. 

“Okay.” I feel my stomach tighten, and I wonder if something greater in the universe hates me.

“Are you sure? I can reschedule with Marcel and Johnathan for later. I just figured since we are half way there, and they have the time.” Bernard offers graciously.  I shake my head.

“No, I’m fine.  Tom and I can make our way back together.  No problem.” I smile at Bernard, knowing he’s only trying to do his job.

“Thank you.  That works out splendidly then.  Apparently Tom needs to be back for rehearsals for the play he’s in.  And I know you’ve got to be back to Cleredon.” Bernard smiles, his thoughts elsewhere for a moment.  “Please, do say hello to Mary for me.” His smile widens.  I laugh and pat his arm.

“Absolutely, Bernard.  I’m sure she’ll be delighted to hear from you.” I fudge the truth a bit.  I’ll have to get on Mary about Bernard.  He’s sweet and smart and absolutely worships her.

It starts raining harder as the men finish up with photos and wandering about.  Tom walks over as Bernard discusses the next route with Marcel and Johnathan. His hair is wet, slicked back from the rain, and the bottoms of his jeans are soaked.

“I hear there’s a bit of a change of plans.” He steps under my umbrella and I tilt it toward him.  Up close, his skin is damp and a bit blue with cold.  He looks down at me and gives me a tiny smile. I can tell he’s tired, and as if on cue, he yawns rather loudly, covering his mouth with a big, sinewy hand.

“Right. Change of plans.” I say softly.  We’ve avoided each other for most of the day, both knowing it’s for the best.  Now it looks like we will be secluded in a tiny car together for quite a few hours.

“If we drive straight through, we can be back in London by midnight or a bit later.” Tom says, looking down at the large, rather modern looking digital watch on his wrist.  It’s not ideal…making the seven or so hour trip home in one go, but I know neither of us is trying to prolong this.  I nod in agreement, and then shiver as the wind picks up.

“We should get going. The weather is turning.” Marcel walks over to the small group, where we are standing between the two cars.  We say our goodbyes, shaking hands and giving hugs.  It’s been a short trip, but pleasant despite the surprise guest.  I grab my bags from Bernard’s car, and throw them into the backseat of the tiny car, next to a small duffel that must be Tom’s.  I feel my stomach knot with anxiety as we climb into our separate cars.  Tom seems fine with letting me drive, and I’m guessing it’s because he’s looking more and more tired as our day has gone on.

The sanctuary of the tiny car is surprisingly comforting as the rain starts to really pour down.  The sky has gone from gray to nearly pitch black, despite it only being a bit before 5.  I turn on the wipers and the lights, getting myself acquainted with the little car.  Tom turns on the heat, high, and I notice he’s shivering.