Tomarry oneshots

Little lion Man

Little Lion Man
rightonthelimit

Summary:

27 year old detective Tom Riddle had been chasing Harry Potter for years now. But sometimes, things are not what they seem at all...

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Tom Riddle awoke with a strong, sluggish feeling in his entire body. His eyes were heavier with sleep than when he usually woke and his heartbeat strangely matched that beeping sound somewhere to his left.

There was something in his wrist, and when his weary eyes grew accustomed to the bright light coming from the ceiling he realized that there was a tube connected to his slender arm. It was long and a clear liquid went through it, and as his eyes followed the tube he realized it was connected to an IV drip. He couldn't read what was written on the bag, though, but he reckoned that he was apparently still alive so it couldn't be toxic.

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His pale lips parted and he grunted, throat feeling dry. His mouth seemed incapable of producing saliva at the moment. He closed his eyes momentarily, the light burning and too bright, and his eyebrows knitted together. Besides that steady beeping noise next to him – Heart monitor. Why was he connected to a heart monitor? – there was also a somewhat unnerving tik tok tik tok tik tok of a clock he hadn't located just yet and had no interest in locating in the near future.

The room was completely silent beside that and it was like breathing too loud would disturb something, somehow.

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The bed he was resting upon was soft, the sheets feeling smooth against his bare feet and his pillow smelt vaguely of his own shampoo.

Tom realized that this silence was most likely organized for himself given he was the only one in the room. He had been resting here for how long he did not know, and when he opened his eyes again he avoided looking straight into the lamps that hung right above his head in favor for looking at the dull grey walls, noting the utter lack of decoration. There was a small wooden table next to his side but there were no flowers – his sheets were blue. When he looked down his arms, which were resting loosely at his sides, he noticed that the shirt he was wearing was black but he couldn't recall putting on a black dress shirt or even owning one at that.

Where ever he was right now, it wasn't a hospital.

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Tom tried to move his body almost experimentally as if he feared he was missing a limb somehow, but even if he felt everything was still there, he found great difficulty in just moving at that. His eyes went back to the IV drip and he could only conclude that either whatever it was that went through his veins kept him from being capable of moving too much, or he had been asleep for so long his muscles needed time to kick into work again.