TARGET [Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction]

Chapter 18: One act of madness

It was like he was underwater, or something similar when the unconscious figure began to come back to their senses. At first he thought it must all be some sort of dream, but the more he tried to open his eyes, the heavier they became, his eyelids fluttering open only for a brief second to catch a glimpse of daylight, before he fell back under again. He heard broken conversations, fading in and out, all hushed, yet none of those voices spoke to him, or if they did, it must have been in those times when he had sunk deepest into unconsciousness.

At last, after what felt like forever, he summoned what strength he had and managed to open his eyes. Slowly, bit by bit, his eyes grew accustomed to the bright natural sunlight which filled the room, bouncing off the white walls and ceiling. He couldn't make sense of the room, as it was rather modest in size, but yet the only window was up high on the opposite wall, almost level with the ceiling. The bed he appeared to have been laid in was not quite long enough for him, and he could just make out his feet sticking out at the end of the blue blanket he'd been covered with. He tried to sit up a bit more, to get a better look around him but his body didn't respond. He frowned puzzled, looking down at the outlines of his arms and legs. Why wouldn't they move? He concentrated as hard as possible, trying to move his limbs, anything, but nothing would budge, except for his toes. At least he could get them to wriggle a bit.

Craning his next to the right, he let out a defeated sigh, as he realised that the bed had been pushed right up to the wall, with the door position on that wall at the bottom of the bed. Grunting with effort, he forced his head to turn the other way to see what else there was in the room which he couldn't see just from the corner of his eyes. A small beside table with a lamp and a glass of water was beside the bed, with a chair positioned next to that. Apart from those two things, there was nothing else in the room, just the white blank walls and the hard wooden floor.

What sort of place is this? Where am I? What is going on? Why can't I move?! All of these questions swarmed in his head as he tried to figure out what on earth had happened prior to this to put him in this predicament, but it was like a barrier had been put up inside his mind, forcing him to not remember. Just as he was about to give up and shout in frustration for answers, the door handle turned, and carrying two cups of steaming tea, entered a very familiar face.

"Hello Tom", Luke smiled warmly, his tired eyes brightening as he quietly shut the door behind him with his foot, walking in and sitting himself down on the chair, gently placing the tea down onto the table. "How are you feeling?", he asked quietly, looking concerned at his friend sympathetically. Tom sighed, relaxing himself a little, letting his head rest back on the pillows as he laid back down. "In all honesty, I'm out of it. I just don't know", Tom said weakly, his voice sounding hoarse, not being aware up until now how dry his throat was. Luke just nodded, watching him, almost watching the cogs in Tom's brain turning, trying to shift into gear.

"Where am I?", Tom asked sternly after several minutes of silent thinking, the smell of tea growing steadily colder beginning to aggravate him. "In your flat, silly. Why? Where else would we be?", Luke chuckled, picking his cup of tea up from the table, taking a sip. "A mental hospital", Tom murmured under his breath, Luke not hearing him, but regardless, continued. "You're in the study, or your 'acting room' to be more exact. I had a spare bed at mine, hence what you've been sleeping on for the past few hours." Taking another sip, Luke carried on, Tom lay there mute, listening.

"Because of your little 'mad' session, the doctors have advised us to keep you under closer observation in a controlled environment which poses no threats. Hence why you were confused about where you were. I had to take down all your research material for your characters." If Tom was able to drink his tea, he would have spat it out in horror, but Luke quickly saw his mortified reaction. "No, don't worry! It's okay. They are all safely grouped and boxed up. Plus, I photographed it all so when everything is done, I can hang them all back up exactly where you had them", Luke reassured him.