You've Only Just Arrived (a Tom Hiddleston fan fiction)

Part 22

Sitting on the bed in the new room the hotel has shuffled you to, you can't seem to look away from the preliminary list of your destroyed belongings. Memorabilia, gifts from friends and family, pretty much your entire wardrobe -- nothing had been safe from the person or persons who had found a way into your hotel room. At least you still had the few items you'd taken with you on your trip to see Tom.

Tom!! With everything that had happened you'd forgotten to call him. At least the phone has been charging while you were talking with Mark, Eddie, and the police. You tap the icon to call him and wait for an answer, startled by the garbled hello before you remember that for him it is the middle of the night. No wonder you were so weary. God if you were just still there, in bed sleeping rather than sitting there on the edge of an emotional tailspin. "Hey – oh. I'm sorry. Go back to sleep."

"______? Hang on." You hear the rustle of movement and him clearing his throat before speaking again, "I thought you were going to call after landing?"

You have to physically turn yourself away from the itemized list that the police had given you a copy of... the page was full of words. Words... items... things. They were all just things. Things can be replaced. "No..." You are betrayed by the unsteadiness of your voice. You sigh when you see the video chat request pop up on screen. "Tom can't we just talk? I look like shit. I haven't really slept since I was there with you. And I really need a shower."

"Answer, please."

You close your eyes and shake your head before relenting and watching him moving to sit up in his bed. Seeing his bare chest stirs both longing and guilt. "God, I should have waited to call. I'm sorry I woke you up."

"You can wake me anytime you want. I figured you had fallen asleep as soon as you got back." He is almost playful, almost. He knows something is wrong. He narrows his eyes at you, "So – what happened? Your last text said the flight was going well."

Everything had been going well. Even the trip from the airport to the hotel was even a decent one, aside from the caffeine jitters you'd inflicted upon yourself. He listens as you explain the security guards bursting into the weight room where you had been running on a treadmill, all the way until you relayed Eddie's conversation with his security team and then suddenly Tom is in motion. You haven't even gotten to the part that freaked you out the most about the whole thing. You pause your narration to watch him. "What are you doing?"

He had tossed the phone down and out of the corner of the screen you can see he is pulling on a pair of slacks. He pauses to come back into view and blink at you as though it were completely obvious. "Catching the next flight."

"Oh Tom."

He's holding his slacks loose at his hips and frowning down at his phone, thereby you. "If they're worried about your safety I'm worried about your safety."

"For all they know at this point it could have happened anytime during the week. While I was sitting there Eddie said he could only find key access codes for Mark going into the room and then the hotel staff to clean." You're trying to keep your voice steady while you speak. Maintain control. You can do this.

Tom cocks his head to the side, "It? Cleaning staff? Ok you need to explain further. You're not talking about another fan or paparazzi incident..." He picks up the phone and perches on the edge of the bed with his trousers still undone.

"Evidently..." you don't like how that sounded so you try the word again. "Evidently while I was there with you, someone broke into my room here at the hotel and trashed, well, everything." You pick up the paper and hold it up so he can see the filled page. "The things in the safe – scripts mainly – survived but... God Tom, they shredded or smashed everything they could get their hands on."