Tom Hiddleston One Shots/Imagines

#48 - Lord, Keep My Mother Safe.

Slow, heavy tears ran from your unblinking eyes and dripped steadily into your coat, as you watched the coffin stuck still in front of you. Now with red, tear-rimmed eyes and watery streaks falling down your face, you felt the hand clasped in your right one squeeze slightly - the action soothing and reassuring that you weren't alone. You looking up to the heavens where both parents now were, wiping the tears from your blotchy and mottled cheeks. Your whole face felt tight and numb with a dull red tinge, including the very end of your nose that seemed as though you'd borrowed Rudolf's.

Tom looked down at you; his oh so beautiful wife. Your pain hurting him inside as he watched you slowly crumble. You'd been so strong all week, your mind busying itself with work and other tasks as he stood back and observed - today was the day you finally let yourself crack.

It had been 3 years since your Dad had passed, and now your Mum had gone too. Both of them were so young, neither hitting 60 but the causes were unknown. You felt better in a sense, knowing how much your mother hurt without you father around, and knowing they were together now settled your worries. However you didn't want either of them gone to begin with, you wanted them at home for you and Tom to visit every Sunday fortnight. You wanted to smell your mothers baking as you opened the door, the sounds of pipes and whistles filling the air as your father stood on the porch out back. He'd spot his 'little girl' and tackle hug you, his embrace so comforting and warm; something you'd never experience again... Something you'd never forget.

Struggling to hold back the grief, tears now hushed silently down your immobile face. You felt bruised inside, numbness, emptiness. Saying goodbye although she's already gone.

A part of you was unwilling to acknowledge the idea that she'd actually gone as you stood around her, the mahogany box starring back at you. Your sister standing at your other side, her hand finding yours and kissing it as you stood together, never once letting Tom go. He was so close to your mum, knowing it was effecting him just as much made you pull him close, his body complying as he kissed your hair. You needed her again, you wished she'd come back just for you to say everything you never got too. Words from the minister were projected loudly to everyone she adored and loved, speeches at the service from friends and family bring a fresh onslaught of tears and even a few chuckles as the well spoken words brought memories you'd thought you forgotten to light - a tribute to her life and loves.

Everyone was in black, a few dusky new red roses on the casket were bright yet so dull. You stood still, watching as the casket was lowered into the grave through blurry, tear-strained eyes. You vowed to make your parents proud, to have the family they never got to see you have, and to do the things they'd told you to do when you weren't sure yourself.

You felt an arm snake around you as people began to move away, leaving you a moments peace. Tom had offered to leave, but you grabbed him back before he could get far. You needed him, you needed the touch of his skin on your own. You needed his arms around your body, secure like a barrier to protect you from the world.

The after-mourning get together back at your sisters house was quiet, depressing. Nobody really knowing what to say or do. You wanted to be anywhere but here, you needed room to think. The food was barely touched, many family members approaching to give their consonance - each one had so much sorrow and depression in their eyes. You couldn't form a sentence due to the lump in your throat, and you weren't very responsive. You were thankful for Tom's input in conversations.

Everyone knew your sister was the stronger one, the one who hid everything away until private where she broke on her own, but they also knew you as more vulnerable. You found it harder to deal with things like this, so with Tom at your side they were assured you were safe and left you to your mourning.

The drive home was near to silent, the radio the only thing filling the gaps of your blunt conversation between Tom and yourself. He knew you ached, and he knew you felt alone but he was determined to show you he was there. His hand resting on your knee an anchor to your sanity as you gripped it so tightly, your French nails on a mission of their own to split his veins as you kept all your tears bottled again - but he had no objections. The pain something he'd live with if it meant you were mildly okay.

As soon as the car parked he stopped and turned to you, your eyes watching firmly where he gripped your leg. You looked so sad, your head lifting slowly to reveal your tear glistening eyes again. You'd never understand how much that sight pained him.

He crawled out quickly, your heart breaking at the loss of contact and rejection. All before you felt his strong arms wrap around your middle and legs, his body latching to your petite one as he carried you to the house, your grip around him firm. By the time you made it to the timber entrance of the place you called home, you were a sobbing mess in his arms.

His shoes made tapping noises as he walked through, the front door locked and keeping you from the outside world as he wanted just you, alone. You needed time, and he would be there every step of the way.

The grief finally surged with every one of your expelled breaths, always reaching higher emotions, never even slightly dampened by your long intakes of the dusty air that filled the bedroom. Tears began to spill from your helpless eyes onto the newly changed sheets he'd placed you down upon. He moved to lay beside you, his arm drawing patterns on your back, the lightness softer than one of your mothers kisses - and that thought alone made the tears fall worse than before. In that moment the sure knowledge that life would go on without them, that time was only stopped for you, undid you completely. All attempts of quiet coping and suppressed feelings were lost and you turned and latched on to your husband next to you, no longer caring about the water that quickly soaked his shirt collar. He didn't seem to bothered, his arms circling you and pulling you closer, hushing noises in your ear became a lullaby to sleep. The kisses to your temple something you craved.

You'd ignored him nearly all week, the man you loved. He'd sat through all your pathetic excuses and busy schedules only to cuddle you to sleep at night as tightly as possible, your kisses exchanged pumping every emotion into them after lights out. During the day, you were a completely different person. Yet he stood by you, no matter what. For better and for worse. And at the idea of losing him you griped him tighter whispering how sorry you were, and how much you loved him. This was all your fault; he didn't need this grief. His voice reassured you he'd be there when you woke up for now and forever, that no matter how distant you were he'd love you and care for you. His wife, the love of his life.

Till death do you part.