Chapter 17
“Tom, can we play ‘what if’?” you asked softly, camera propped up against your bedside table lamp. It was only seven in the evening for you, but that meant Tom was pushing midnight. It didn’t mean too much to you, since you had adjusted your summer hours to match his working schedule. You both knew that these days would be ending shortly once you went back to work.
In fact, your schedules were the reasons you still hadn’t been able to meet face to face. Given that it took four to six weeks to secure a passport, traveling for you was fairly nonexistent. Factor in Tom’s schedule in London, interviews, meetings, the odd charity performance here or there—all before season 2 of Loki began to film, it wasn’t feasible for him to make the nine hour flight to you and then the nine hour flight back. Neither of you wanted the other to miss out on a work opportunity because of yourself. The selfless nature took a toll on your moods though.
Tom matched your position, his phone nestled against a stack of books on his bedside table and a sleeping Bobby curled in front of his stomach. “Do you really think that’s for the best?” tired eyes pleaded with you not to do this right now. Not when you were both tired—and experiencing the pangs of loneliness that liked to attack you in the evenings.
“Is that a no?” and even your small question held all the longing you felt. Were those traces of tears Tom spotted in the corners of your eyes? He hated seeing you like this, but it warmed him to know it wasn’t only him that experienced this pain.
“Darling,” breathing out a sigh as his hand brushed against his stubbled cheeks. “You know I can never say no to you,” he began, your heart constricting at the conjunction that was likely to follow… “But—we both know how we will feel tomorrow…” It would be a night spent creating these hypothetical scenarios that wouldn’t come to pass in the near future. Their shared dreams would become nothing more than fantasies when the night ended.
“Please?” you whispered, bringing your comforter to rest underneath your chin.
The silence was short lived as Tom gave into your demand. “What if I flew you to London? What if you spent the rest of your summer break here?” Even the idea alone brought a faint smile to his lips.
“With you?” The excitement was already apparent in your words, seeing you reposition like a child who was far too excited for Christmas to arrive.
“With me,” he assured you warmly.
“Together,” you whispered, tilting your head to the side as another thought crossed your mind. “What if I snore?”
“I’ll buy ear plugs,” came his swift response, nothing was keeping him from sharing a bed with you. From sharing everything with you. “What if I steal all the blankets?”
“A very likely scenario,” you grinned. “Between you and Bobby, I wouldn’t have an inch for myself.” A discomfort you would gladly endure…
“As though I wouldn’t be holding you throughout the night,” he countered, suggestively waggling his brows.
“What if we don’t sleep?” came your retort with as much suggestion as he provided moments earlier.
A contented sigh was his response, wondering if those scenes would play out as gloriously in real life as he portrayed them in his head. “What if I took you to my favorite park…the three of us?” He could see it now, a favorite activity of his to be shared with you. The way you would likely burrow closer to him as you walked throughout the park. The way you’d stop every few feet to play with Bobby, as you always confessed wanting to do.
“As long as you don’t make me go for a jog with you,” warning him as you lifted a finger out from the warmth of your comforter to be pointed at him.
That brought a soft laugh from Tom’s lips. “You might actually enjoy running, darling,” and he had told you this countless times before, not in a way to force you into exercise, but he knew what peace it brought to his life. He’d always try to get those he cared for to join up the hobby.
“Yeah, and I might like swimming with sharks. Not going to try that either,” which brought a wince from Tom who adamantly did not like sharks. “What if I forced you to recite sonnets to me in the park?” changing the topic from those activities that were not enjoyable.
And he was grateful for that. “No force necessary, love. I’d recite anything your heart desires,” bringing a grin to your face as you frequently used that expression with your kids and subsequently, Tom. “What if I forced you to try an English breakfast?” raising a brow, curious as to your reaction.
“That would take some forcing,” you admitted, it being a well known fact that you were not a breakfast person by any means. “What if I actually liked it?” comical astonishment written over your features, bringing out another laugh from Tom.
“I wouldn’t complain whipping up breakfast every morning for you,” a genuine return as that scene played out before him. You padding around his kitchen in one of his shirts. Bobby at your feet, enjoying every moment of treats being thrown his way. Sneaking in coffee kisses from you until breakfast turned into lunch.
“And come back home ten pounds heavier? God of Mischief, indeed,” you huffed in mock annoyance.
“What if home was with me?” Tom asked before he had the sense to stop. He knew it was a step too far. He knew that such a suggestion would likely bring about deflection on your part. The more he got to know you, the more he realized that your deflection was not out of indifference, but self preservation. You had one of the strongest hearts he had ever come to know, giving it out freely to every child you encountered—-and at one point in time, you likely gave it out to your lovers who didn’t deserve it. Now, you kept close guard over it when it came to your relationships. He couldn’t fault you for that.
“You’re worse than the witch from Hansel and Gretel! What if you try this candy and this candy—why don’t you take a look at what’s in the oven?” you teased, but you both knew what you were doing. Deflecting from the truth. Home is wherever you’re with him.
He gave you a small smile, understanding your joke but leaving it with no comment. You continued, “What if I met Luke and he absolutely hated me?”
“That’s never going to happen, darling. I’d have to keep it a secret that you were in town. He wants to talk your ear off,” which was true. Since speaking with you, Tom had this new spirit to his work–to his life. Perhaps it was because not everything centered around work. Your passion for your work inspired him, illuminated him. Despite two entirely different careers, your fires both burned brightly.
“What if your other friends didn’t care for me?” you offered as another alternative. In your mind, it was a very real possibility that his friends wouldn’t enjoy your company. It didn’t mean specifically other actors–it could also be university friends. You had a very specific skill set. Could you teach a child how to read? Sure, you could! Could you go head to head in a battle of wits from a Cambridge alumni? Only if the topic was Children’s Literature, maybe.
“I can’t think of a single friend or acquaintance that wouldn’t be beguiled by you. However, that’s exactly why I will make it my mission to never let you alone in a room with any Avenger,” and he was absolutely as serious as a heart attack–which only made you laugh all the more.
“Wait—why not?” laughing as you propped yourself up on your elbow. “I should be able to meet at least…one of them.”
“Which one exactly?” he questioned, raising a brow to study you carefully. Your answer mattered in this situation.
After a brief moment of comical thought, you gave a light shrug. “Chris Hemsworth seems nice.”
“Nope. No way. That will not be happening,” again, he was quite serious and your laughter wasn’t helping matters. “I consider him a brother, but in no realm will I stand next to him so you can do a comparison between us both.”
“That’s literally sixty percent of your screen time in the Marvel movies,” you pointed out, trying your hardest to fight back your amusement.
“That is beside the point. In person, he is taller–and –and funnier. Then you have the—,” as he was gesturing towards his torso. “---the muscles. No. That will not happen,” he waved as if to show that the point had been made.
“I thought you said I just couldn’t be in a room alone with any of them…”
“I changed my mind mid argument. We will say we have plans every time one of them invites us out,” he settled, not catching how his words caught you off guard. It was such a ‘couple’ thing to do—to go out with others. To make up fake plans… Would you two ever get the chance to be an actual couple?
You needed to change the subject once more, before this game of ‘what ifs’ broke you any further.“What if I came to one of your performances?” you grinned at the thought of being able to watch him live.
“Which performance?” his smile returned by sheer osmosis.
“Anything. We’re playing pretend, honey,” you cooed, a slight southern drawl highlighting your words, it only coming out when you were tired of tipsy.
“I would like to undertake something new for you. I am a different person now than when I performed before. New life experiences. New feelings,” he went on, providing just enough vagueness that you felt comfortable in the moment.
“You wouldn’t have to take on something new for me. Anything that could be proven with hardwork and dedication, you’ve already done so,” you assured him softly. “I’m so proud of you.”
That took Tom by surprise—so much so that he couldn’t form the words to acknowledge how much that sentiment meant to him. Wasn’t that why he always tried his hardest? Gave it his all? To make those he loved proud of him?
“What if the paparazzi saw us?” you questioned, filling the silence.
“Good.”
“Good?”
“About time that I actually had a picture with you,” he stated clearly, leaving no room for argument. “What if I held your hand everywhere we went? The coffee shops, the book shops…everywhere,” his tone softening, the scenes playing once more. A future with you. One that seemed just so far out of reach. You both had lives where you were…
Although, Tom had been keeping something from you since the first few weeks speaking to you. The next season of Loki would start filming by mid September, just a little over two months away. Had he mentioned it yet? No. It was one thing to sit and play these games of ‘what ifs’, but could you handle it if he was but a half an hour drive from you? Would it be too much? What level of deflection would you require when it all became so real?
“What if I begged you to never let me go?” you whispered, your voice cracking at the end of the question. “What if I never left London?” An impossibility you both knew to be true.
“Darling…” he warned, knowing how quickly this conversation could turn.
“What if I wasn’t afraid? What if you weren’t a famous actor and I wasn’t such a mess?” The tears were becoming more and more difficult to hide.
“You’re my mess,” and it was all he could do to hold back the emotion as well.
“That’s the thing. I’m not yours. We aren’t each other’s. We’re just two people who have frequent calls. There are strangers out there who have had more contact with you than I have,” you rattled on, pushing the tears back in aggravation.
“Y/N…,” he tried to pull you out of the darkness. He didn’t need you to know how badly he wanted to crawl in with you. How badly he wanted to let it take over him. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he had found you and yet he couldn’t have you in his arms at this exact moment.
“I’m sorry,” came your soft whispers. “You tried to tell me…I just wanted to pretend,” but it was too late for that. Pretending always had to end.
“You need to sleep,” Tom urged as Bobby repositioned himself in a similar ball, but now with his head against one of Tom’s legs.
“I need you,” the honesty cutting through him like a knife.
“Close your eyes,” his voice deepened, as he turned off his bedside lamp. Now all that illuminated him was the soft candle light from across the room. Before following his commands, you set a similar mood. Except as earlier as it was for you, the hint of a sunset shown through the windows.
“Oh, Darling, please believe me
I'll never do you no harm,”
His voice was deep, soothing—everything you needed to convince yourself that he was next to you, serenading you to sleep. The dried up tears stiffened against your face, yet you tried with all your might to calm yourself with his words.
“Believe me when I tell you
I'll never do you no harm”
And he couldn’t imagine a life without moments like this. Without being your protector, your fighter… But when your voice intermingled with his, creating a harmony filled with emotion and exhaustion—it occurred to you both that you didn’t have to be strong for the other. You could be weak together. You could journey into the darkness together and know that you would make it out the other side. Together.
And so you sang together, your eyes both closed….neither of you knowing who fell asleep first.
“Oh, Darling, if you leave me
I'll never make it alone
Believe me when I beg you
Don't ever leave me alone.”