Unicorn - Tom Hiddleston fanfic

1 - The Crash

You were sat in the passenger seat when it happened.

The roads were icy and cars drove slowly. Too slow. Your mum kept her foot pressed to the pedal, tyres skidding uselessly on the slippy surface. Your little car was coughing and protesting; Mum hadn't given the engine chance to warm up.

"Mum," your little brother whined from the back, tugging on his school tie. "Why are we going so slow?"

"She can't see out of the windscreen, dufus," your little sister said, swatting her brother over the head with her lunchbox. His bottom lip began to tremble and he started wailing, kicking your Mum's seat with his feet.

"Be quiet!" your mum snapped eventually. "Stop kicking my seat!"

"Dad would let me," your brother shot back. "But he's dead so he can't help."

"How did he die, Mum?" your sister asked quietly. She was ten years old; not old enough to know the truth. Your mum turned her head and looked at the children in the back seats.

"He was found hanging from the ceiling," she said coldly, "a rope around his neck."

"Murder?"

"Suicide."

"What's that mean?" your brother asked, frowning. He was only six.

"It means he was fed up with you two and killed himself to be rid of us all," Mum hissed venemously. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles went white and her arms were shaking with surpressed anger. 

"Mum?" your sister whispered.

"What?"

"What's that?" Your sister pointed through a tiny gap in the frozen windscreen. You bent your head to get a better look, light brown hair falling over your face. You wished you had brought a scrunchie with you that day. The doctors said it would have prevented the injury you got better.

"It's nothing," Mum said, still driving forwards.

"There's one out the back, too," your brother shouted, unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing over his seat to lie in the parcel rack in the boot. Your sister joined him and a pushing and shoving war began.

"Cut it out, you two," you scolded. They ignored you and continued fighting, bickering over what the oncoming vehicle was.

"It's the Batmobile!"

"No it isn't, it's Barbie!"

"Maybe it's Torchwood, come to arrest you two aliens," you joked. Your brother slowly turned his head to you and raised his eyebrows.

"Not funny," he said slowly. His head snapped around again and you saw his ears move slightly as he grinned widely. "I was right. It is Batman!"

"It's just a black car," your sister sighed. "Nothing special. Hey, the one ahead has stopped. Look, Mum."

"I can't see anything," your mum said curtly, increasing her speed. A small section of the windscreen had thawed over on your side and you craned your neck to see out. A similar black car to the one behind you was blocking the road, the driver standing on its roof. He was pointing a gun at the car behind you and waving his hand frantically for your car to get out of the way.

"Mum, he wants us to move," you said quickly, grabbing your Mum's arm. She shook you off and turned the wheel to the right. The tyres skidded and slid and refused to let you move. You crashed into the car in front, throwing the armed man off the roof and into an iced over pond. The ice broke with a sharp crack and a second crack forced you to remember that there was another car behind you.

"The tyre just exploded," your brother commented, hands on the window and nose pressed against the glass. Your sister nodded.

"On this side, too."

"Mum, stop driving," you said. Your mum didn't seem to hear and wore a fixed expression of determination and calm on her face. "Mum. Mum!"

The car rammed into you from behind, throwing your siblings forward. There was a horrific crunch as your brother's nose exploded against the glass as he was dragged forwards. He howled in pain and sat back up, clutching at the bloody mess that was once a freckle covered nose. Your sister was holding one hand to her forehead and wailing. A shard of glass was stuck in it, barely scratching the surface. You reached back and plucked it from her skin lightly, trying to be as gentle as possible. Your hands were shaking with shock and your mum still hadn't moved. Her eyes had glazed over and she didn't even blink as another car smashed into you from the side. Her head flopped sideways and as you leaned forward you saw a long, jagged piece of glass sticking out of her skull. You felt bile rising in your throat and glanced into the back of the car to see if your siblings were okay. Your brother wasn't moving, stuck in the footwell. Sticky blood created a trail that led down to his head. His blonde hair was matted with the blood and his eyes were frozen with a look of surprise in them.

Your sister wouldn't stop screaming. Another pice of glass was stuck in her arm and she was shouting with all her might. She turned and went to yank it out but you stopped her. You had a vague memory of first aid at primary school and something about blood loss and jamming the wound.

Another vehicle crashed into your side of the car just as you reached around to help your terrified sister. Her head was impaled into the seat with a broken off windscreen wiper, frozen with the cold. You screamed, loud and long. Your arm was definitely broken and darkness clouded the edges of your vision. Your senses were dulled and you could just about hear someone, a passer by, yelling and shouting. Murmurs filled the air, a relentless drone in your ears. You shook your head and tried to speak, your tongue heavy in your dry mouth. A voice shouted louder than any of the others; a crisp, precise British voice.

"The girl is still alive! Someone get her out!" the voice shouted. Nobody moved and you felt yourself weakening, close to giving in to the darkness. The same voice yelled again, frustration hinting at the edges of it. Footsteps came towards you, running footsteps. Other voices said things, tried to persuade the runner to go back. You could hear him refusing over the sound of everyone else.

"It's going to blow!"

"Leave her, she's not worth it. Just some stranger."

"Let me through. Every life is important." That voice. You recognised it from somewhere but your brain was too fogged with pain to make any connections right now. You sighed and slid forwards, falling from your seat and only being held up by the seatbelt. Warm hands reached into the smashed, twisted car you were trapped in and unbuckled your seatbelt. Those same hands pulled you free, gathering you in the arms they were attached to and carrying you away. You rested your head on your saviour's chest and drifted into the darkness.