Chapter Text
December 20th
“Again, I’m very sorry. There’s nothing I can do.”
“Please, miss? I’m desperate. Even if it would be to arrive Christmas day...”
“You and everyone else here, Mr. Hiddleston, believe me. I truly am sorry. If only there was a way to make the skies clear.”
Tom nodded and gave the airport service agent a sad smile. “If only,” he agreed.
“I can try to find you a hotel if you like,” she offered.
Tom turned his head to look at the long line of irritated people behind him, shaking it when he turned his attention back to the agent.
“No, thank you, that’s quite alright. I don’t want to hold up anyone behind me. I’m capable of calling around myself.”
“Very well. But just so you know, everything in Brooklyn that hasn’t lost power is already booked up, and the Eastern side of New York is only getting worse. You might have to try the Manhattan area. Oh, but we’re out of rental cars. I’d suggest getting a taxi and making your calls in the cab rather than waiting. The snow is going to accumulate quickly.”
Tom groaned, but he knew he didn’t have any other options. “I’ll do that. Thank you, miss,” Tom told her, picking up his bag.
“You’re welcome, Mr. Hiddleston. Figures we’d get the dang storm of the century at Christmas.”
“Right. I’m rather silently cursing Höðr right now,” Tom muttered, shaking his head. “The Norse god of winter,” he added when the agent looked confused.
“Ah, makes sense. Good luck, Mr. Hiddleston.”
“Thank you” he replied before starting off to go outside and flag down a taxi.
The bad weather had started the night before. Gale winds and heavy snowfall plagued many areas of the United States, as well as the United Kingdom. Conditions were expected to remain severe for at least a few days. All flights to and from the affected cities had been cancelled. The roads were being covered by ice and snow much faster than the city plows could keep up with. Many cities were losing power; lines were icing over and causing numerous homes and businesses to lose electricity. People were getting stranded in airports and hotels, unable to go about holiday plans. The whole situation was a nightmare.
And the kicker was that Tom was originally supposed to have flown back to London the week prior… before the weather had gone all to shite. He’d agreed to stay those extra days to help get those last scenes done early so he wouldn’t have to fly back to New York, thus extending his vacation time. Now look where that had gotten him.
He strode fast through the airport, mumbling curses to himself and seething over the harsh realization that he might not be able to see his family for Christmas. As busy as he was, he’d promised to always be home for his favourite holiday, and now he was being forced into breaking that promise.
A gust of wind nearly blew him back into the airport upon exiting the doors, causing him to stumble and fall arse first into a pile of snow that hadn’t been cleared from the sidewalk. “Fuck!” he shouted, apologizing immediately afterwards to the mother whose little girl had heard the profanity and proceeded to loudly repeat it. He stood up, wiped the snow off his backside, readjusted his hat, and walked up to the curb to wait for a taxi. Another gust of wind almost threw him off balance, but he managed to brace himself by widening his stance and putting one foot behind him. When he covered his face with his gloved hands to shield it from the biting cold, his hat was blown right off his head. That time, the profanities he let out were muffled by his gloves.
When the taxi pulled up, Tom practically dove in as soon as he got the door open, nearly crashing himself into the inside of the opposite door, suitcase dragging along behind him. With a grunt, he reached back over and shut the open door.
“Easy, fella” the driver warned with a chuckle. “Where to?”
“I’m not sure of the exact location as of yet, but I’m going to try to get a hotel in the Manhattan area,” Tom answered.
The driver raised a brow. “That’s going to be an expensive trip, especially in this weather. Partly because it’s going to take longer to get there.”
Thankful he still had plenty of American bills in his wallet, Tom pulled it from his pocket and handed the driver a generous amount, enough to cover the fare and provide a large tip. “Will this suffice?”
The driver’s eyes widened. “You’re too kind, sir! This is very much appreciated. Alright, off we go.”
Tom let his back rest against the seat as he put his wallet away and retrieved his phone. The background image of his mother and sisters reminded him that he needed to call them and break the news. But first, he needed a place to stay.
After a search on his iPhone, Tom spent the entire ninety minutes calling every hotel in Manhattan, quality of the places be damned. He had to have lodging. Unfortunately, the ones he got through to were booked solid, and the ones he couldn’t reach were assumed to no longer have power. After realizing he’d called the last number on the search results list, he put his phone away and sighed, leaning forward and resting his head on his hands.
“No luck, huh?” the driver asked.
“No. I can’t believe it. I called every single one,” Tom answered as he rubbed his temples.
“I hate to add to your stress, sir, but we’ve just entered the Manhattan area. What do you want to do?”
Tom cursed under his breath. His stress level was through the roof, his head was beginning to ache, and his stomach was growling. Eyeing his watch, he saw that it was around typical dinner time.
“I should probably get some dinner,” Tom finally answered.
“What kind of place? Chinese? Italian? Burger place? Thai?”
Tom huffed a dry laugh. “You know, I don’t even care at this point. The first place you see that has power and serves decent food is fine.”
“I know a place a few blocks away.”
Tom looked out the windows as the driver slowed to a stop for a red light. It looked like the power outages were sparse there compared to everywhere east of them. Half of the stores on the block they were stopped on were lit; those businesses probably had generators.
When they’d gone another few blocks, the driver pulled the car over and shifted the gear to park. “This place look alright?” he asked, turning his head to look at Tom. “It’s nothing fancy, just the typical diner fare, but the food’s good and it won’t kill you.”
Tom looked out the window to see Violet’s Diner. The light blue siding and white window trim made it look homey and warm. He smirked and nodded. “This will be fine. Thank you for the ride, and have a safe trip back.”
“You’re welcome. Good luck finding a place to stay.”
“Thanks, man,” Tom said as he grabbed his suitcase and got out of the taxi. A harsh chill hit his bones as his body took in the sudden temperature difference between the nicely heated cab and the biting wind of Manhattan. He ran inside the diner, shutting the door quickly behind him and stomping the snow off his shoes over the door mat. He was only outside for a moment, but it was enough for the precipitation to get his coat and hair damp.
A woman in her mid-fifties with red hair pulled up into a bun scurried over to greet him.
“My goodness, young man! You weren’t out there more than a few seconds and you’re all snowed upon! So many people are still out trying to brave that weather.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t have much choice,” Tom told the woman, drops of melting snow flying out of his hair with his attempts to smooth it out.
“Aw, poor dear. Well, welcome to Violet’s Diner! I’m Violet.”
Tom smiled. “Your place is aptly named, then.”
“I’ve always been the creative type,” Violet joked. “Now, do you want a booth, or would you like to sit at the counter?”
Tom looked around the place, seeing it wasn’t too crowded. Two people were seated at opposite ends of the long counter, and only two booths were taken up.
“Actually, could I take that booth in the very back?” Tom asked, pointing to the last one on the other side of the dining area. “I’ve got a call I need to make and I’d hate to disturb anyone else’s conversation. If it’s no trouble, of course.”
“No trouble at all!” Violet assured him. “There’s hardly anyone here. Sit wherever you like, and I’ll have Noelle find you.”
Tom nodded his thanks before heading for the very last booth, putting his suitcase under the table by his feet. He pulled his phone from his pocket and set it down on the table, deciding to wait until the waitress had taken his order before making his call. Hanging his head, he rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed in frustration.
It was the faint scent of roses that caught Tom’s attention, causing him to look up and realize someone was standing there. The waitress had been waiting for him to notice her. She was a lovely woman. An elastic pulled back the tight curls of her long, espresso-colored hair. Her bright, hazel eyes sparkled as she giggled softly. Tom guessed she was around his age, maybe a bit younger.
“I’m so sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to ignore you,” Tom apologized.
The pleasant smile on her face assured him it was okay. “That’s alright, sir. You look like you’ve had a rough day. I’ll be serving you this evening. My name is Noelle.” She pointed to the name tag pinned to her lavender blouse. “I’ll give you one chance to make a remark about how fitting my name is for the season, but no more” she mock scolded.
Tom chuckled. “I take it you get that a lot this time of year. I suppose it is appropriately festive.”
She shrugged. “My family loves… er, loved Christmas. But that’s your one chance, no more jokes about it.”
He hadn’t missed how she corrected herself but chose not to comment on it. “I’m simply plain old, un-festive Tom.”
“Well, welcome to Violet’s, ‘un-festive Tom’.” Noelle placed a menu in front of him. “Can I start you off with something to drink? Something warm? We’ve got coffee, tea, hot apple cider, and cocoa.”
“I’m usually a tea drinker, but a hot cup of cocoa sounds great right now,” Tom replied.
“One mug of cocoa, coming right up. I’ll get that made and give you a few minutes to look over the menu.” She spun on her heels and scurried off.
Tom watched her through the opening in the wall between the kitchen and counter area. The diner appeared to be short on staff because she was making the cocoa for him herself. It wasn’t long before she was back and setting a large mug on the table in front of him. She’d added a huge dollop of whipped cream and had drizzled caramel over it.
“That looks delicious, Noelle, thank you.” Tom held the mug’s handle and took a sip, a drop of the cream sticking to his nose. He chuckled, wiped it off with his finger, and licked the cream up. “Tastes delicious, as well. Really, really good.”
Noelle smiled and leaned in a bit. “Don’t tell Violet, but I like to add a spoonful of Nutella to the cocoa for an extra bit of yumminess.”
Tom laughed softly. “It’s wonderful. I promise to keep your secret.”
“I appreciate that” she stated with a wink. “Did you decide what you’d like to eat?”
Tom groaned. “I’m afraid I didn’t, sorry. I’ve been too wrapped up in my woes to focus. What would you recommend?”
“Hmm… how about a cup of Minestrone soup with a grilled Gruyere cheese sandwich?”
Tom grinned. “Didn’t take you long to answer that.”
“I just had that for lunch today, and it’s so good. I’ve been recommending it to everyone who has come in.”
“I’ll have that, then.” Tom handed Noelle his menu.
“We’ll have that ready for you as soon as we can,” Noelle said before heading to the kitchen again.
Deciding that was the best time to make his call, Tom unlocked his phone and dialed his mother, hoping she was still awake. She picked up after a few rings.
“Thomas, my sweet boy! How’s your flight so far?” Diana asked him.
Tom sighed. “I’m afraid there wasn’t one, Mum. The weather’s absolutely dreadful. Didn’t you see any of the weather reports?”
“No, I haven’t seen any today. I’ve been busy wrapping gifts and fetching all the ornaments for the tree. Don’t worry, I won’t let your sisters start hanging any of them until you’re here. Let me turn on the telly and check. Give me a minute.”
Tom waited as he heard the faint sounds of Diana shuffling across the carpet and turning on her television. Then he could hear muffled speaking in the background, which was probably one of the anchormen or meteorologists.
Diana finally spoke again after a few minutes. “Goodness, I had no idea! It’s not bad here at my house, but it looks dreadful everywhere else. It’s not affecting you terribly much, is it?”
Tom’s heart sank as he prepared to break the news. “All the flights between the U.S. and the UK have been cancelled because of winter storms, and the weather isn’t supposed to be letting up. I don’t think I’m going to make it home for Christmas.”
“Oh, no! Thomas, this is dreadful news! You’ve always been home for Christmas! I can’t bear to think you won’t be here!” Diana began sobbing.
“Mum, please don’t cry.” Tom meekly begged, a tear falling from one of his eyes. He wiped it off with his sleeve. “It’s out of my hands.”
“I know it is, Thomas,” Diana told him, sniffling. “Where are you right now? Are you waiting at the airport, or did you find a hotel room?”
“Neither, Mum. There are power outages all over. I took a taxi to Manhattan at the suggestion of the airline, but there aren’t any hotel rooms available here. The roads are getting bad, so I don’t think getting a ride somewhere else would be safe. I’m sitting in a diner right now, and I’m at a loss for what to do.”
“How can there be no hotel rooms?! There have to be some open!”
“Believe me, I called every hotel in the Manhattan area on the cab ride over. Every hotel I got through to is booked up already. The others had dead lines, and I can only assume they don’t have power right now.”
“There has to be a vacancy somewhere! Do you know how many hotels Manhattan must have?”
“A few hundred or so, Mum. I called every single one that showed up in my search results. But I couldn’t get through to a lot of them, so that narrowed it down quite a bit. There really is nowhere for me to stay.”
“My poor boy is stranded.” Diana sobbed.
“Mum, please try to calm down, okay? I’ll be alright. After I finish my meal here, I’ll ask the locals for some ideas and make it work somehow.”
“Alright, Thomas. Be safe, and try to make it home, will you?”
Tom’s eyes squeezed shut as he tried not to tear up further. Hearing his mother cry was breaking his heart. “I’ll try, Mum. With all of my might, I’ll try.”
“I’ll let you go, then. Call me as soon as you figure out something. Don’t worry about waking me up; I want to hear from you. I love you, my sweet boy.”
“Love you too, Mum.”
Tom hung up and exhaled a shuddery breath as he put his phone back in his pocket. When he sniffled, he smelled roses again and turned to see Noelle.
“Food’s ready,” she said softly, placing the soup and sandwich in front of him.
“Thank you, Noelle. Again, I’m terribly sorry if I kept you waiting.”
She shook her head. “No need. I just brought it out, anyway. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Enjoy!”
Tom thanked Noelle as she walked away, then got started on his meal. He tried the soup first, blowing on it before taking a spoonful. He quietly hummed his approval, body relaxing as the food began to warm him up a bit. The sandwich was also good; extra cheesy, just how he liked it.
Noelle came around when he was halfway finished. “How is everything so far, Tom?”
“It’s all incredibly delicious,” Tom answered after swallowing a bite of his sandwich.
“Glad to hear. But, um… something I wasn’t so glad to hear was your phone conversation.” She gave him a sympathetic look.
Tom’s eyebrows raised a bit. “Was I talking too loud? I apologize if I was… I didn’t mean to disturb anyone.”
“The sound tends to carry from this corner… something about the acoustics, I think. Anyway, it sounds like you’re in a rather tight spot.”
“I definitely am, Noelle. But you don’t want to stand here and listen to my complaining, I’m sure.”
“There aren’t any more customers, and everything’s taken care of until someone else walks in. I’ve got time to lend an ear if you need someone to talk to.”
Tom smiled. “That’s very nice of you.” He motioned to the seat across from him. “Please, join me.”
Noelle sat down and clasped her hands together on the table. “Alright, I’m listening. Tell me everything.”
In between bites of food, Tom explained everything that had happened that day. The more he told Noelle, the more she felt bad for him and wanted to help him out. When he finished his dinner, she excused herself to clear his dishes, but she came right back.
“Tom, I’ve got an offer for you. Why don’t you come stay with me?”
Tom’s head tilted and his brow furrowed. “Stay with you?”
“I live close by. It would be a cold walk, but my townhouse is right on a corner, only a few blocks away. You wouldn’t have to worry about getting another taxi. I have plenty of space and an extra bed. We won’t have to worry about a power outage because I have a generator. You could stay with me until you’re able to get back home.”
A stranger offering to let him stay with her normally would have made Tom run in the other direction. But Noelle seemed nice enough, and she hadn’t said anything about recognizing him, so he didn’t think he had to worry about a fan trying something. Besides, with nowhere else to go, he couldn’t afford to look the gift horse in the mouth.
“It seems I have no other choice, so I will accept your most generous offer. I will, of course, compensate you for taking me in.”
Noelle smiled wide. “Excellent! You don’t need to pay me, though. It’s Christmas, so think of it as a gift. My shift is almost over, so we can go as soon as I clock out and bundle up.” She got up and dashed into the back.
Tom stood, retrieved his suitcase, and went to the counter to pay what he owed. Violet smiled when he told her to keep the change, having left a generous tip for Noelle.
“Keep the extra tucked away and give it to her in a few days, please.” Tom requested.
“Sure thing, young man. Merry Christmas.” Violet said with a smile.
“All set, Tom?” Noelle asked as she came out of the kitchen through the swinging doorway.
“Yes, let’s brave the cold and get it over with quickly.” He buttoned his coat before picking up his suitcase and following Noelle out into the storm.