Tom Hiddleston Oneshots.

Quarantined

A frustrated groan tore through your lips as you paced the small hospital room. You tried the door again, to find out, yet again, that it still remained locked.

“That door is not going to open on it’s own. You know that.”

You glared at the voice of reason who was stretched on the small and rather uncomfortable chair in the room. You and Captain James Conrad had barely managed to get off that godforsaken island and made it back to the mainland when the doctors had grabbed you and tossed you into the tiny hospital room, furnished with one rickety bed, two chairs and a table. Then doctors in what looked like hazmat suits had come and drawn blood samples from both of you and left, telling you they’d have news for you in a while. Until then, you were quarantined for any possible infections, viruses or diseases.

“Shut up,” you growled, trying the window this time, only to find it permanently sealed. Slamming your fists against it, you let out a wrangled yell of annoyance before sliding to the floor. Conrad rose gracefully from the chair, walking over to you.

“You aren’t taking being quarantined very well.” He stated, stretching a hand for you to take. You grabbed his palm, hauling yourself up while snapping.

“Aren’t you a regular Mr. Holmes?” You felt guilty as soon as you said it though, and dropped your eyes to the ground, shame flooding through you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to snap.”

You felt Conrad’s fingers on your chin as he lifted your head to look at you. Ten months together on the island with only each other as companions had led to a friendship that nothing could replace. You met his blue grey eyes and felt tears prick at your own. “It’s okay.” His thumb wiped an escaping tear and he drew you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you as his chin rested on your head. “I know it’s frustrating, but we’ll be out soon. I promise.”

You nodded into his chest, allowing a few tears to fall when you heard the creak of the door opening. Pulling away from Conrad, you felt hope bloom in your heart when you saw the doctor come in, without the weird hazmat suit.

Conrad let you pull away, but he kept your hand in his, holding it as he turned an unreadable face to the doctor.

“The good news is that your reports have come back clean.” You felt a light sort of happiness course through you and a grin began to break out on your face when the doctor continued. “But,” Conrad’s hold on your hand tightened as your body tensed, waiting for whatever the doctor had to say next. “We have to keep you quarantined for a week. The standard procedure is for seven days. We’ll release you as soon as we can confirm that you aren’t carrying any transmittable viruses or bacteria.”

You pulled your hand away from Conrad’s, turning your back to the doctor and going to stand at the window. You could hear the conversation continue, but you had no interest in knowing anything more. The door closed and you felt Conrad’s lean body behind you, his right arm resting on the window pane near your head while the left rubbed your shoulder in a soothing gesture. You both stood there silently, watching the sky turn from a pale blue to a soft pink, streaked with orange and red before it turned purple and then black. The lights on the street below you had come on and you watched people come and go. Conrad moved when the door opened again and you heard quiet whispers before the sound of the door shutting followed. Then he was behind you again.

“Come and eat.”

You shook your head, eyes still fixed on the street below you. “I’m not hungry.”

Conrad turned you away from the window, holding you so that he could look at you. “You haven’t eaten since the ship. Please darling, eat something.”

You sighed, the fight leaving you as you followed him to the table, grimacing at the two bowls of soup and sandwiches. It was only when you were halfway through your first sandwich that James spoke again.

“I know that you’re feeling trapped, just like on the island. That you did not see your first day back going like this. But it’s going to be fine. In a week you can sleep in your own bed, eat breakfast for dinner and roam the streets with your camera, not having to worry about skull crawlers or giant gorillas. You’re almost there. You lasted ten long months on the island, one week of quarantine here is a piece of cake in comparison.”

You sighed. He was right. He almost always was. You nodded, finishing your sandwich before dragging your chair to the window and staring out into the street again, losing track of time as you watched little lights flicker in buildings, cars driving by and people rushing to get home. You didn’t realise you had fallen asleep till you felt strong arms lift you.

“James?” you mumbled, eyes fluttering open even as he laid you down onto the hard bed. You felt a gentle hand brush hair out of your face and then a blanket being tugged over you, providing pleasant warmth to fend the chill that had seeped into the room.

“You were shivering. You need to rest.”

You fumbled, finding his wrist in the dark before whispering, “Stay, please.”

“I’m right here.” You could feel him trying to pull away.

“No, stay.”

You heard a soft sigh from somewhere above you before the blanket was lifted and Conrad’s long, muscular body slid into the bed. You rolled over to your side, making space for him and he stretched out an arm, wrapping it around you and pulling you into his chest before he pulled the blanket over both of you again. You sighed contentedly at the heat from his body, nestling your head where his shoulder met his neck. You felt long fingers play with your hair just above your neck.

“We’ve been through worse, you know?” His voice was soft, as if he was trying not to disturb the stillness of the room.

A tired chuckle escaped you. “I know. It makes this seem even more mundane and unbearable.”

“The last time you fell asleep next to me was when we were hiding in the cave from the skull crawlers and you were too scared to let go of me because it was dark and you couldn’t see if I was there or not.” Even though Conrad was teasing you, the memory of that night made you instinctively move closer to him, your hand fisting his worn out tee shirt. His own arm tightened around you and you curled into him, a tiny shudder running through you.

“Yeah, that was not fun.”

His answering laugh made you smile. “Well, I can’t say I did not enjoy playing your hero.” You smacked his chest lightly, giggling. His hand rubbed small circles into your back and you could feel sleep wash over you in waves. “Go to sleep, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.” And as sleep began to gently tug you into its grip, your last thought as you nuzzled into Conrad was that you were grateful for the quiet determination and strength of the man next to you, sure that if there was anyone who could make this quarantine bearable, it was him.