Unicorn - Tom Hiddleston fanfic

11 - Run

"Thank you, Frisbee," a voice says smoothly. "James Edwards, I presume. Deceased. So that would make you..." The woman stops, thinking. "Richard Edwards, yes?"

"How do you know my name?" Frisbee asks, eyes locked onto a spot just above your right shoulder. "No one knows. Frisbee and Sham, that's us. Only we know... Who are you?"

"I have no name," the woman says, walking forwards. Her high heels click over the tiled floor and red nails grip Tom's shoulder. He's pulled away from you with surprsing strength and a woman clad completely in a blood red outfit steps between you.

"I am Nameless," she continues, an evil smirk on the edges of her lips. "Whereas people who have names need them used, Richard. Your poor brother, James... dead. Nameless like me for all who knew him. 

'However, you, Unicorn," she says, walking around you and looking you in the eye. "What's your name? It can't be Unicorn, surely..."

"Well, it is," you snap. "So there." The woman's eyebrows shoot up and her mouth forms a perfect 'o'. 

"You have courage, Unicorn," she says eventually. "No others dare talk to me like that."

"I'm tired, I'm hurt, my friend's brother just died and you pulled my boyfriend away from me. Do you really expect me not to bitch at you?"

"Please, mind your language," Nameless says in shock. "I am a sophisticated woman who is older than she looks. Such befoulment hurts my delicate ears." As if to prove her point she places her hands over said ears. You feel an overwhelming desire to rip her hands away and slap her but you quell the urge. Your eyes glance up to meet Tom's shocked gaze. His blue eyes are filled with confusion and hurt and anger. He raises one clenched fist and raps it against Nameless's skull. She hisses and stumbles. You move to the side and stick out your foot and Nameless trips. Tom lunges forward grabs your hand. He looks you in the eye with a relieved smile and whispers a single word.

"Run!" 

He dives for the window, you following close behind. Frisbee - you refuse to call him Richard - smashes it with his foot and jumps out, trainers squeaking on the wet rooftop. Tom lands lightly but your bare feet slap on the wet concrete. Nameless appears at the window, taking aim with a gun. A bullet pings off the metal railing by your ankle and you scream. Tom gathers you in his arms and springs over the metal bars, landing on another rooftop heavily. Frisbee points the way and draws a gun.

"It was nice knowing you," he says as Nameless appears with two armed bodyguards. "Now run and don't look back."

You bury your head in Tom's chest under his pyjama shirt as he runs. You can hear him crying and you hear a slight whoosh. But you hear a thump, a thud as Frisbee's body falls. You can't cry. You just settle into a state of shock and let yourself be carried.

***

"Unicorn," Tom says gently, stroking your face. "Unicorn, wake up." You're lying in yet another hospital bed. No, you correct yourself, not a hospital bed. Just a bed. A bed with a patterned cover. A wide bed. A bed that has Tom in it.

You jump as realsation hits you. Tom isn't in the bed, he's on it. He's lying on top of the covers alongside you. He's battered and bruised and seems to be in a lot of pain but he's still smiling. You smile back, exhausted.

"Where are we?" you murmur. Tom sits up and groans.

"Just a hotel," he says. 

"How far did you run?" you ask, struggling to sit up. Tom helps, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you to him. He rests his head on top of yours and sighs.

"About twelve miles," he says quietly. You look up at him in horror.

"Twelve miles?!" you echo. Tom nods and yawns. "Your feet must be shredded!"

"I stopped off along the way," he says. "For a bit of a rest."

"How long did you stop for?"

"That's not-"

"Tom."

"About... two minutes?" He glances at you guiltily. You sigh and take his hand.

"So you've been running for ages," you say. "Whilst carrying me."

"You're actually quite light," Tom says. You sit up and glare at him.

";Actually'?" you say in disbelief. "What, did you expect me to be heavy or something?" 

"No, of course not," Tom says quickly, smiling. You don't smile back. 

"You have taken me to some unknown place in some unknown part of London to escape from some unknown nutters trying to kill me and you call me heavy?!"

"No, Unicorn, I'm not-"

"HEAVY?!" 

"Well if you want to belive that then yes," Tom snaps, losing his patience. "I've tried my best to look after you and keep you safe and what thanks do I get? None. Nothin at all. I just get yelled at and screamed at and insulted and shot at." His voice gets quieter as he gets angrier. Yours doesn't.

"Oh, well you better run then," you shout. Somehow you're stood less than a foot away from him but you can't remember moving. Tom's nostrils flare with anger and his hands are balled into fists. Only now do you realise how tall he actually is. 

"I think I will," he shoots back coldly. "And I won't come back."

"Good. Run, Thomas," you hiss. "Run."