One Way Or Another ( Tom X F!Reader ) DISCONTINUED

Chapter 1: Solitude

( EDIT: This worthless app update won't let me publish the whole chapter. )

tick

You sat up, your arms wrapped around the mattress, your body sprawled around. You woke up halfway off your unfamiliar bed. The place smelled like dust and tea and you rapidly blinked your eyes to help yourself become fully awake, aware of your surroundings. This seemed like a punishment from God, or something. As if.. you did something to deserve this loneliness you aquired. You sat up on the blank bed and put your hand under your chin.

Tick tick tick

This is painstaking. You couldn't just sit in silence all day, you already endured solitude when in capture of Tord. You'd only been awake for five minutes and were anxious and jumpy. Something wasn't right here and you knew it. You decided to unpack. It was a routine and tedious project: unpacking, unfolding, putting away, setting up, etcetera. Very menial, but it seemed to soothe your nerves. Your premonitions faded away and you sighed when you were finally finished, locking away your suitcases in the master bedroom's cramped closet.

Done. Finally done. Now what?
You felt your fingers twitch, the pit of anxiety returning to your body. Get groceries. You remembered that you had no money and your stomach dropped. Immediately, you delved through your suitcase again for spare cash and a wave of relief washed over you and a sigh escaped your lips. The emergency money you had saved was about a hundred dollars. That should get you somewhere until you could figure out this situation and how to get home.

You took a backpack with the money inside it and a bottle of water from your bags stuffed in the side and exited the house with a heavy heart. You took to the busy streets, carless. Observing the flashing lights of the street and crowded buildings, you lost yourself and stumbled into a stranger. Their appearance was a blur as you continued on numbly to the nearest market, which was a good way into the slightly more rural part of the city.

The new scents and visuals were enough to practically knock you backwards and the American voices you heard around chimed with private conversations. You on the other hand were alone, in every way. It was cold and you could see your breath in front of you.

"Taxi!",

A deep voice called in a cloak and waved to the street. Shimmering and bullet-like, the yellow automobile yielded for the ominous figure and he hopped inside, speeding away as quickly as it shot by.
Well, why didn't you think of that?
You blinked, quite dumbfounded as you shuffled with a shiver to the edge of the street. To hail the next cab, you flailed your trembling arm upwards and called out,

"Taxi!"

Some curious people quirked their heads when they heard your British accent, and you flushed as some of the maize vehicles veered past you. You continued to wave your hand high and nearly jump with the chill nipping at your body. Finally, a cab pulled up to the side, mud splashing your shoes when you opened the door and slid in. You felt the relief in your legs now as it whirred off and the city lights blurred more.

"Where to?"
A gruff voice managed, and quite frankly, it startled you. A man driver, was your initial thought, and nothing else. Your heart was racing to fast to think any thoughts beyond that and with that you blurted out,

"To the nearest rural market. "

With this, he scoffed.

"Well, better be ready to pay up, sweetheart.", He spoke sourly and you felt your stomach drop as the car continued on.

When you had calmed down enough, your legs pressed together and your hands in your lap, holding your backpack, you observed the interior of the car you would be riding in for presumably awhile.
It was furnished in deep red, almost black fabric and the seats oozed foam and were tattered. You noticed papers on the floor and safety pinned to the mirrors. Squinting, you read them under your breath.

"We Want You.

Join Us. You are not Alone."

Shortly after, you looked at the symbol on the poster.
Red and familiar, but you had no idea where it could've come from. Blinking, you also noticed the small text underneath the bolded words. It was in Norwegian. That's when the connection was made: The Red Army.

You felt sick again, digging your fingernails into your backpack. That's not right.. they had no ties with America that you knew of. You had been in their British base for months and never heard the slightest talk of bases in America or even recruitment for that matter.

They're here for you.

Was your first thought and you nearly screamed. No. No. They don't know what taxi cab you're in. They aren't that big of an organization. You calmed yourself down with regulated breaths and attempted thinking rationally. The car's quick velocity made it hard to think at all without receiving a headache for your efforts, though.

Without a thought, you took the paper and spoke dryly.

"Let me out here. "

The driver grunted in response and stopped at the curb, then adjusting himself around to be awarded his cash, but you were already gone. You had dashed to a nearby street store and your hand was on your chest, feeling as if no oxygen that entered your lungs had done any good.

The paper was of course, damaged, but you tried to make out the Norwegian as best you could, holding the folded and crumbled paper with both of your shaky hands.

It was terribly cold and the store was devoid so you slumped down on the side wall to collect yourself, breathing out puffs of white.

You recognized the name Thomas and Tord. And death. But that was it. Your heart nearly sank to the pit in your stomach when you realized you would need to seek the help of the unfamiliar people here.

Right now, you were too numb to walk, so you shoved your hands in your jean pockets turned on your side against the cool wall, trying to get warm. It was going to be awhile before you were ready to move from that spot.