#its a slow quiet story about successes and failures and discovery and hope

[silverrowbrush]

The younger me that read and reread Minecraft: The Island dozens of times is so disappointed right now.

[nonsensicalobsessions]

Shattered

Tom was doing his level best not to be overcome with his irritability, but honestly, Cara was just being unreasonable now.

Granted, he was the one who had been irascible on their last video call, but he was tired. Cara was refusing to open up (as usual) and passing off her unwillingness to talk about whatever was bothering her as feeling unwell (far be it from him to be less than sympathetic about that time of the month but he had to drag even that much out of her, which was absurd).

Tom loved Cara. He did, and she knew it, and he knew she knew it. They had been together for over a year now. Everyone had predicted the relationship was doomed from the beginning, from Luke to Ben to even his own mother. Not because Cara was playing him for a fool, using him for her own advantage, hoping to further her own career. Cara was a successful woman in her own right, a freelance author whose short stories had won numerous awards and was published in a variety of publications around the world and in several languages. She now had two separate anthologies that enjoyed critical acclaim.

The problem, as they saw it, was that Cara was so quiet. They attributed it to almost painful shyness. They all said she would never be able to cope with the demands of Tom’s career, and she would ultimately crack under the pressure, and drag him down. When Ben spoke with Tom about it, he was gentle, but firm.

“Look, mate. Even if she was never to step foot with you on a red carpet, she would still have to be able to cope with the constant pressure of the media hounding your every move...and that would be unfair to you both. You deserve to be supported, Tom. I simply don’t see this relationship ending well. You need more than she can give. There is nothing wrong with that. It is unfair to ask her for more than she can give.”

Tom had just shaken his head. They didn’t know Cara like he did. They didn’t see the way she made him laugh until he was holding his sides, tears coming from his eyes and his face and abdominal muscles aching with joyful torment. They definitely didn’t see the passionate woman  who could set him aflame with a single look, a touch. No one had ever affected him the way Cara did. She was beautiful and brilliant and sexy and maddening and yes sometimes there was friction between the two of them...

...like now...

Cara’s quietness wasn’t a figment of others’ imaginations. Tom knew it was due to her unhappy childhood (no, he amended, her abusive childhood, calling it anything less was a failure to acknowledge her bravery, her survival) which made her very slow to trust. He quickly learned she still feared angry voices, and sudden movements made her flinch. She couldn’t help it. It was part of her deeply ingrained survival mechanisms. Initially he was deeply saddened. Then he was frustrated, surely she must know by now he meant her no harm? Finally, he recognized they were simply reflexive, and did not take them personally, but tried to adapt his behaviors to keep his beloved more at peace.

It was her emotional barriers that gave him the most difficulty. There were so many things Cara struggled to share with him. Her love was not one of them, nor was her passion, but her fears, her insecurities, her pains, she kept under tight lock and key. Tom’s emotions were as free flowing as a river in flood. Cara could handle all that Tom flung at her, his joys, sorrows, even his angers, as rare as they were...but her inability to reciprocate was a constant sore spot. 

Hence Tom’s current mood.

Yes. He was short with her. He was tired and wanted nothing more than return home to London and be done with this interminable press tour. His current film hadn’t even been released yet and he was already tired of promoting it, which was a bad sign. It wasn’t the work, he was simply exhausted, he had been pushing himself for years on end, and he was feeling like he was finally reaching the end of his tether. He needed a few weeks (months) to regain his usual joie de vivre. 

He was missing Cara, badly.

When he contacted her, she was subdued. She listened to him vent about the usual mishaps and frustrations about being on tour, and responded lovingly, but Tom could sense she wasn’t fully engaged, and called her on it. She flushed, and apologized, simply saying that she wasn’t feeling her best. Tom had to badger her (so he felt) before she would admit she had cramps. At this admission, he had exploded.

“Cara, why do I have to pull every single thing out of you? Jesus, woman! If you’re on your period, all you have to do is say so...! Oh, God, and now you’re embarrassed? You think I don’t know what a period is, for Christ’s sake?”

“Tom, why are you yelling at me? All I said was...”

“It’s what you didn’t say, it’s what you never say!”

Predictably, she was silent for a few moments, before she sighed, “Tom, you are obviously upset, so I am trying to listen to you. Telling you I am feeling unwell, when there is nothing you can do about it, will not help you. I am doing my best, but you are still upset with me. I don’t know what the right thing to do is.”

Tom’s lips thinned in frustration. “Never mind...I’ll see you in a few days.”

He ended the call without the usual exchange of “I love you.” He felt guilty about this later, but he was so exasperated, after all.

Then, of all things, Cara pulled this unexpected tantrum. After the video call, she stopped responding to him. No texts, no emails. It was most unlike her, but considering how difficult it was to get her to be open when she was upset, Tom was not overly surprised. It was their first real fight, and it was when he was away in the bargain.

So unreasonable, though.

It tainted his happiness at his return home, knowing he was coming back to a row. He and Cara still lived separately, which niggled at the back of his head. Something kept him from asking her to move in with him, and he didn’t know what it was. Was it her reticence to open up to him? Was it her pride in having her own place, an overt symbol of her own success both personally and professionally? Was it something less attractive, like the fact her house was only two blocks away, allowing him to maintain his status quo just as he liked it, without having to adapt or change? 

As he stalked towards her home, the last option began to feel more and more likely, even though he was still annoyed, and he tamped down his shame. Thoughts of the many times Cara stayed the night at his home when he was feeling ill, out of sorts, or otherwise in need vastly outweighed the times he slept in her bed for the night, even though it was just as comfortable...and yet he wondered why she might be slow to ask for assistance...

He resolved to do better even as he reminded himself the current grievance was his, and just, as he walked up to her gate, and unlatched it.

The first sign that things might not be as they appeared on the surface was the full mailbox, and papers still sitting on the front step. Her car was sitting on the drive. Once more, Tom dialed her number, and once more, it went straight to voicemail. He gritted his teeth as he tried texting her, with no reply.

“God damn it, Cara, this is so petty,” he hissed, even as he looked at the mail. True, sometimes she did get so caught up in her work that she forgot the world outside, but this would be a first...well, so be it. She drove him to it.

He used the key he knew she had hidden under a planter and let himself inside.

“Cara? Cara, it’s Tom...I know you’re here...it’s beneath you to keep ignoring me, you know...”

The house was utterly still, and silent. The very air felt stationary. Tom looked into the kitchen, and saw an empty glass tipped over on its side.

That was not normal.

“Cara? Cara, where are you? Are you all right?”

He looked around and then quickly went up the stairs, taking two at a time.

He headed straight for her bedroom, and the first thing he spotted her her phone, lying shattered on the floor by the side of her bed. 

The second was Cara herself, lying in a fetal position in the center of it, covered in a mountain of duvets and blankets.

“Cara?”

He rushed to her, and saw her slowly open her eyes.

“Oh thank God, darling, you frightened me...” 

Her voice was very, very soft. “Tom? Is it really you?”

Her response frightened him anew and he sat besides her to stroke her face, and almost recoiled. “Cara, you’re freezing...” He reached for her hand, which was, impossibly, even colder. Her face was almost grey, her lips had a bluish cast, and her eyes seemed hazy, as though she was fighting to focus on him. He fumbled for his mobile and immediately dialed 999. “I need an ambulance, right away...”

As soon as he gave her address, she sighed, “I was so hoping to see you again...”

He paused, sliding the phone away from his mouth. “Of course you were going to see me again, sweetheart, it was a little tiff, that’s all it was, and I was being a right tit...Yes, please God hurry, she’s frightfully pale, very disoriented, her skin is like ice...”

“Tom...” her voice was barely audible now. “Tom...I can’t...can’t breathe, Tom...”

He dropped the phone completely, one hand gripping hers tightly, the other cupping her face to force her to focus on his eyes. “Cara. Cara, look at me. Focus on me, love. That’s it...now, breathe with me...look at me, keep your eyes open, Cara, Cara, look at me...in...and out...that’s right...in...and out...Cara, open your eyes! In...and out...do you hear the sirens, love? Help is coming...in...and out...Cara, look at me...”

There was the crashing of the emergency responders, Tom quickly moved to the other side of the bed, grabbing his phone as the paramedics pulled the duvets and blankets away...and then he cried out at the unhappy discovery at what was underneath.

He sat right by her head in the ambulance, saying nothing, but kept his eyes locked on hers the entire way, stroking her hair. She was going to be fine, she had an oxygen mask on, the paramedics had already hung up a unit of blood, and clearly they knew what they were about. Cara never once closed her eyes, but looked at him the entire way.

“What? What do you mean, it’s too late, that’s absurd, you identified the problem, you’re replacing the blood lost, so why aren’t you prepping her for surgery to correct the issue?”

“Mr. Hiddleston, you aren’t listening to me. She has lost too much blood. She would never survive the surgery.”

“Then can’t you continue the transfusions until...”

“Her organs are already shutting down. I’m very sorry.”

“That’s not good enough! She was conscious when I got there, she was conscious all the way to the hospital...!”

“And quite frankly I don’t understand how she was. Mr. Hiddleston, you have to prepare yourself. She only has a short amount of time left. I suggest to pull yourself together so you can say your goodbyes to her.”

“No. No. This is not...” Tom stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is...is she in any pain?”

“We are keeping her as comfortable as we possibly can.”

“Does...does she know?” Tom’s voice was choked as the reality of the situation began to sink in...Cara hadn’t been ignoring him, she had been too ill to respond. He was castigating her all the while she was lying in  her bed, under as many blankets as she could gather, undoubtedly thinking she was going to improve on her own until she realized she was getting beyond that, she reached for her phone and in her weakness, dropped it. Tom never once thought to send someone to check on her.

“Yes. Her first concern was for you. She seemed to have recognized the severity of her situation awhile ago. Is there anyone else we should contact?”

Tom didn’t answer, just left the so-called “Quiet Room” and headed straight for Cara.

She was propped at a slight angle, with an oxygen cannula and quiet heart rate monitor in the room. Her eyes were closed, but opened slightly when Tom entered.

“Cara.”

“Tom.”

He noticed she was shivering. He looked scornfully at the thin sheet and blanket she was covered with, of course she was shivering, lying on that wretched hospital mattress. He toed off his shoes, and lowered a side railing so he could slide onto it and gather her into his arms on the bed. She sighed in relief as the warmth of his embrace and body quickly eased the shuddering.

“There, now,” he murmured. She was still under the poor excuse of a blanket as he wrapped it snugly around her, but she was in her favorite position, with her head cradled in the crook of his shoulder and his arm around her, one of his legs wrapped about her body. “Better?”

She nodded. Tom noticed her chest was moving in shallow, rapid flutters, and she was almost gasping. He caressed her cheek. “Easy, Cara. I have you.”

He then kissed her temple and whispered, “I love you, so very much.”

Cara struggled to take a breath deep enough to say, “I’m so sorry, Tom.”

“Sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for...”

She shook her head feebly. “I had...a gift...to give you...”

“You already did. You always did...Cara, didn’t you know? Every day with you was a gift...no one’s ever made me happy like you do.” He stroked her hair and fiercely willed himself not to cry, to keep his voice tender and warm and steady.

A smile crossed her face even as her eyes began to droop. “Made...you...happy?”

“Darling, do you need to ask? After all the laughter, conversations, and the joy I found in your arms? Yes, sweetheart. You made me very happy.”

Her eyes opened suddenly and she spoke as clearly as she did the first day she met him. “I don’t want to leave you, Tom. I love you, with all my heart.”

“I don’t want you to go, Cara. I will always love you. Always.”

He could tell she used the last bit of energy, last bit of life, to speak to him so. He felt her sink into his arms, nestling her head into the nape of his neck as she had done so many times before, and relax. He rocked her gently, and spoke softly to her, “I love you, Cara. I’ve got you, darling. I love you so. Be at peace, sweetheart. You are loved. I have you, Cara, I have you.” His cadence never faltered even as the tears ran down his face, the dam broken.

He didn’t need to hear the heart monitor become silent to know when her heart stopped and his shattered. He knew when he was the only person left in the room.