The Heart of a Villain (a Tom Hiddleston fanfiction)

Comfort

[Rose]

Rose knows that Tom has been drugged, but for the life of her she can't quite make sense of his behavior.

She'd been awakened by the noises coming from him. In his sleep he'd muttered her name, and Ben's. Slowly she'd crept over, trying to soothe him — he was still so pale, and a sheen of sweat covered his brow. His face was twisted into so many different emotions — fear, pain, desperation, shock, and then finally his hand tried to jerk away from hers as she attempted to hold it, and his eyes cracked open.

"I'm here," she assured him as his eyes gained their focus.

And then he'd wanted to see her feet. Her feet? Of all things? But he clung to her hand, those long fingers wrapped entirely around the wrist of her good hand, their grip the most solid thing about him, stronger than she might have expected in his current state.

But he won't take any more drugs. His stubbornness is testing her limits of patience, as he clings to her and at the same time won't answer her questions.

"Talk to me," he asks instead. "Don't let me fall asleep."

"Talk to me, Tom. What is it?"

How can I help you if you won't let me in?

And then she realizes he's afraid. It took time for this knowledge to penetrate her brain, because she cannot ever once remember ever seeing Tom afraid. Sure, there had been days when he was anxious, and it was usually about Ben. But she'd never known exactly what, why or how — she could only speculate, and always suspected it was something about needing Ben's approval. She had learned very early in their relationship that that particular wall was impenetrable. The wall between the rest of Tom's world, and his relationship with Ben. It was something she'd had to accept if their relationship was going to continue.

But now she sees the fear. Raw and bleeding, it rises from him like a ghost, like the air he pants out of his lungs as he still struggles to calm his body. Her feet. He'd wanted to see her feet. Had been desperate for it.

She settles herself next to him on a nearby stool, realizing she needs to get ready for the long haul. "Why did you ask to see my feet?"

"Talk to me about anything else. Where did Will find those toys?"

Rose feels her shoulders slump. Even now? With his relationship with Ben in ruins, he still  won't let her in? She struggles against her own frustration, and Tom has to see it because he pushes the change in subject. "Andrew? And the clothes as well?"

"Yes, ours were—"

She raises her bandaged hand to point to where she'd kept Tom's trousers, the only things not on his body, other than his pants, that were cut to ribbons.

"The phone," Tom suddenly croaks, much louder than before. His fingers tighten on her remaining hand, the other coming back slowly to return to its former position to rest on top of his.

"What about it?" she asks, hoping she doesn't sound too patronizing. She feels like she's using her "mommy" voice, when Will is having one of his temper tantrums, or near to it and she doesn't want him set off.

"I need it."

Rose almost yanks her hand from his grip. Frustration spills over, the mommy mode slipping, and she just feels like she's had enough. But he won't let her go, and his thumb starts to move against her pulse in a massaging circle, a plea for understanding. It stills her.

Drawing a deep breath, she measures her voice so carefully before she lets it out. "Why do you need your phone, Tom?"

"Don't you remember that the boys were bringing in Margaret and her family today?"