A/N: This is the combination of two prompts, one from nita100 and the other from AngieMagz. Both take place in the Don't You Mind? universe. Enjoy!
***Prompt: Tom meets Martha for the first time AND Sybil and Tom spend some time talking things over
It was a long flight from Dublin and with his limited belongings and all of Isla's things, Tom was finding life outside of prison was just as exhausting, but for different reasons, that of which at least came with rewards. When they arrived all of Martha's apartment was dark, save one light right above the entry door. Tom felt so out of place in this city, and especially in this building, that he barely registered what was revealed once Sybil reached for the nearby light switch. His mind was still processing the doorman downstairs and the carpeted elevator that led them to this flooR; he could barely make out much past the long hallway they all stood in. Already Sybil was moving around him, taking his belongings and leaving him only with Isla as he acclimated to this new sense of living.
"Tom?"
He blinked before looking to her. "This is a dream, right?"
"No," she gave softly before reaching up to push back at his somewhat disheveled fringe. She honestly hadn't been able to exist in his presence without touching him since they left Mountjoy. "It's not a dream, darling."
"I can't stay here, Syb…" he began to mumble. "I should—" But he was stopped. A question he had thought of proposing instead, answered as Martha appeared before them.
"No," she gave with a firm shake of her head. "You'll stay."
Sybil looked to her grandmother then back to Tom again to gauge his reaction. He swallowed hard before repositioning the way a sleeping Isla's weight rested upon his chest. "Tom, this is my grandmother Martha. Granmama, this is Tom."
She nodded again. "Well I'd hope so," she smirked. Tom wasn't sure if her comment was meant to be a funny one; somehow it just made him feel all the more nervous, so nervous in fact that he barely noticed Sybil reaching out for Isla.
"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am. Sybil's told me—" The hand Tom extended her way fell as he saw he would not be met in kind.
"Yes, I'm sure. I'm also sure I know far more about you than you know about me." The statement made Tom feel unsettled somehow. "My granddaughter loves you very much, you know."
Tom nodded. "Aye. And I love her too. Very much."
"Well I'd like to make it clear that while I don't know you I don't particularly like you. Perhaps that will change but you are currently in my home because of her and more importantly because of the life you two have so carelessly created. So no, you will not go somewhere else. You will stay in the room I have prepared for you and you will do so until you and Sybil are more than financially stable and emotionally capable of finding a flat and forging life on your own."
Again, Tom nodded. What else could he do? What words existed to confirm or even accept such a statement? For a moment he thought of assuring Martha that all of this would not be taken for granted. He wished to tell her of the things he and Sybil discussed on the plane ride over, or the jobs he had researched while still back in Dublin. Though the two existed apart for a year, this world, her world was never too far.
"Now," Martha tried with a more upbeat tone. "Sybil can show you where everything is and after you've settled in, please make yourself and my granddaughter something to eat. I had my assistant pick you up some things from Barney's. Sybil tells me you're quite the cook, so I just hope you also know how to clean the kitchen afterward because God only knows I will not be doing it if you fail to do so."
"Thank you, ma'am. I will, absolutely."
"Well," Martha sighed. "It's nice to see that Isla likes you. She's fussy in who she shows affection to, so please feel blessed that she hasn't decided to hate her absent father the way I have. The child has more sense in her head than the both of you combined…"
Tom looked to Sybil then back to Martha. "We deserve that…"
"We? No, you. Sybil's spent the past year apologizing to me. Now it's your turn."
His eyes belonged to the hardwood floor below now. "Yes, ma'am."
"And Tom?"
"Yeah?"
"Please stop calling me ma'am. No one calls me ma'am. I am not Sybil's father. I do not live in a castle or think that just because I have a title, I am more worthy of respect than others. I will respect you if you respect me. If you're lucky, maybe we could even be friends. Do you understand?"
"Yes, m—" Tom quickly closed his mouth, giving Martha a smile to conceal his mistake.
A different kind of smile graced Tom's features as he awoke the following morning, but only as he once again adjusted to this new city. Two windows allowed sunlight into the room, doing nothing to wake Sybil or a nearby sleeping Isla. It was the quiet and stillness surrounding him that really had him feeling uneased. Tom figured that if he couldn't hear the evidence of life several stories below, he'd at least be able to hear movement in the kitchen or the light mewing sounds coming from Isla's bassinet.
This was not Dublin, he was forced to remind himself. This city and the life he'd have here would surely be nothing like the life he left behind in his hometown. Leaving Mountjoy was proof of that, and when Sybil and he boarded a plane bound for New York, the fact was cemented. Even as they sat silently in the kitchen nibbling on a sandwich they shared, both of their minds practically screamed promises of upcoming change.
Coming out of his stupor, Tom turned over to find a still-sleepy Sybil lazily smiling his way. Immediately she moved so she was in his arms, her own wrapped tightly around his neck so the two could breathe one another in before sharing several passionate kisses. Last night they'd fallen asleep holding one another. At one point Tom even though that Sybil might cry. She told him how many night she'd spent in this bedroom alone and the mere thought made Tom nearly well up. Neither were sad now; the sun brought with it the inevitability of a new day.
"Morning," Sybil mumbled against his lips.
"Morning," Tom gave right back. His arm now caressed the expanse of exposed skin between her nightshirt and shorts. "I'm torn between being with you and going to get her."
"Noooo," Sybil warned in a hushed tone. "If she is sleeping, please don't wake her. She was so colicky for the first couple of months I barely got any sleep. This is nice in more ways that one," Sybil tried, hoping to remedy the sadness her words painted across his face.
"Alright," Tom nodded with a kiss to her nose. Sybil's eyelids fluttered shut at the sensation. "I guess we'll just have to stay in bed for a bit longer."
Sybil beamed. "No complaints there."
Soon they were attached again, inhaling sharply to accommodate for the way their attached lips limited their oxygen instake. Sybil had rolled over so she was practically on top of Tom. His hands held steady upon her hips while she grinded into him, unable to keep her body from moving this way, especially after so long. Similarly, Tom couldn't help but to respond, even moving one hand to her bottom to keep her close.
Eventually Sybil's lips were on his neck, so sweet and slow as her mouth ran circles along his chin, then down to his chest. She picked her head up and smirked. "Do you really sleep naked?"
Tom nearly let out a loud burst of laughter. Sybil's lips were swollen and she straddled him, her face hovering above his in the most delicious way. Even so, she was the same innocent girl he'd met in a bookshop one day. She was the same kindhearted person who saved his life and decided, possibly against her better judgement, that she loved him. Or maybe, like Tom, it wasn't really something she had a choice in. He was sure if she did, a smart girl like Sybil would have made far better decisions when it came to him.
"Sometimes," he mused. "Good memory."
Sybil smirked again, proud of her recollection. But she soon faltered, losing some of the same confidence he'd given her. "Why...why didn't you?"
Tom raised his eyebrows. "Sleep naked?" She nodded quickly, almost as if she wanted to get it over with, or needed his answer in less time. Tom chuckled. "I didn't want to startle you."
Sybil shook her head slowly. "You wouldn't have startled me. I've seen you before, Tom." Even as her own voice trailed off, Tom's face became more and more flushed. "I've missed you, you know." Her hand cupped his bicep, running up and down the smooth skin of his upperarm.
With hesitant features, Tom forced a lazy smile. "I've missed you too, Syb. Too much."
"I know," she negated, as if to show him that she felt it too. "It was lonely without you."
Tom nodded. "I know." He was ashamed. He imagined all of the days lost, all three-hundred and sixty five of them where she'd slept alone. His carelessness causing them both to forfeit nights like those currently left unspoken, where naked skin could move beneath the moonlight with no judgement. "I'm...I'm sorry, Syb."
"S'okay," she shrugged. "You're here now. And I'm sure I sound naive but right now I feel like we have all the time in the world…" Just as her voice floated off into nothingness, Isla began to stir in her crib. Quickly Tom reacted, gently removing himself from Sybil's grasp to he could go tend to his daughter. The sight, and the speed at which it was created, had Sybil's head pressed to her pillow, happy tears pooling along her waterline. Her hands clasped beneath her head as she watched Tom bring the child with him back toward the bed. On his wide frame, he held her so effortlessly. Even as the child nuzzled her face into the crook of her father's neck, Tom couldn't help but to stare down at her lovingly.
"She loves you…"
Tom looked to Sybil once more. "I don't know if I deserve that, but I love her too. More than I ever thought was possible. I just saw you two and...I can't explain it, really."
"You do deserve it. You're her father, Tom." The statement had Tom's lips spreading into a smile. "You've done nothing wrong…" Tom went to speak but Sybil stopped him. "I didn't...we didn't know I was pregnant. Even if I wasn't, you still didn't deserve to go to jail for what you did...and definitely not for a year. You know, this is affecting you far more than it has affected her. She won't even remember this."
"But it's important, you know?" Of course Sybil knew. She had experienced every breath, hiccup, and cough without Tom for nearly three months. "Suddenly I'm this stranger who's here and I'm changing her nappies and kissing her face and making silly faces at her and—"
"And she's laughing back?" Sybil propositioned. She stood up and walked to him. When he'd first moved toward their daughter Sybil was sure he'd return to bed but found that he wished to rock Isla back and forth instead. "Tom," Sybil sighed out, "My grandmother was right. Isla is extremely picky in who she spends her time with. My grandmother has the most ridiculously kind friends and Isla just screams and screams. Especially with men—"
"Sounds like someone else I know," Tom quipped, earning a small smirk of reprimand from Sybil.
"Maybe she knows too, alright? Maybe it's just something you're born doing...loving your parents." Then: "Maybe it's only a decision you can make later on in life."
"Like you?" Tom inquired honestly.
"Like me," Sybil nodded. "And hopefully not like Isla...right, darling?" she said with a change of tone as she looked down to the child who was now very much alert. "Look at her! Look at how happy she is with you!"
Tom smirked and strained to look down to her. He couldn't respond. Instead, he pressed several kisses to the child's face. "So, I was thinking we could take a walk today. You know, try and sort some of these details out? Plus, you have to show me the city. You promised."
Sybil smirked, causing her eyes to form to slits. "I did. You're right."
"Do you have a buggy for her?"
"Yes," Sybil said softly. "I have a buggy."
"Christ, Syb, how am I going to pay your grandmother back for all of this?"
"You're not. Not all of it. She took care of us because she wanted to. She is my grandmother, after all, and though she may not agree with my choices, she's not going to let Isla suffer because of it." She sighed. "Like she said, she's doing all of this for her. Really, we're the children in this scenario."
Outside a knock sounded at the door. It was not Martha but her assistant Anna, explaining to them that she'd made breakfast and put hot tea and coffee out already. When Sybil called out to show her appreciation, another voice sounded in. "Sybil, I know you got in late but do not ruin Isla's day by letting her sleep in. Remember how hard you worked to get her onto a schedule…"
Sybil looked to Tom, her eyes pointing to words that did not belong to her as proof for her previous statement. "Yeah," Tom nodded, giving a small chuckle. "I'm starting to feel like that's the case."
~!~
Isla did have a buggy, one far larger and more intricate than any Tom had ever seen before. It was not as boxy or plastic looking as some he'd seen relatives use. Instead, it had a strong black frame where inside a soft velvet seat encased Isla, strapping her in and leaving space for a blanket. The handle was massive as well and the wheels were larger in the back, something Sybil explained helped her when she used to take a sleeping Isla for runs right after dinner.
"I gained some weight after her pregnancy so I got really into running for a bit."
"Running?"
"It gave me something to do," she shrugged. "Besides, I didn't want you to get out of prison and—"
"And what? Still want to fuck your brains out?"
"Tom!" Sybil hushed with a slap to his leather jacket. "Language!"
"Oh, sorry!" He managed quite honestly as he moved to cover his mouth. The two had reached the entrance to the park by now. Before entering, Sybil paused. "John Lennon used to live there. He was shot right near that door," she said with a finger pointed across the street. "Sad, isn't it?"
Tom couldn't remove his eyes from the spot long enough to give a more animated answer. "Yeah…"
"Tom?"
It was only when he looked to her that Tom realized his focus had been elsewhere. "What? Oh, sorry…"
Sybil's brow furrowed. "Did I say something? Were you thinking of Aiden? I'm—"
"No, no, not at all. Though, I suppose I am now." He looked to her once more. "I try not to, to be honest."
Sybil reached out for Tom's hand. Around them several people meandered in and out of the park, some with headphones on, others carrying school bags or briefcases. Taxis zipped by and a nearby street cart was selling pretzels. Altogether though, it was a fairly quiet day. "You okay?"
"I just...I don't fit in here, Syb. These people have money and they have jobs and—"
"You'll have those things someday," Sybil assured. "I hope we will. Both of us."
Tom tried to smile. "Yeah, hopefully. But not like this. I mean, your grandmother's apartment..."
"Is where you're staying," she reminded. Sybil was no longer calm and understanding. Instead she began to push Isla's pram into the park. "Can we please stop discussing this, Tom? Please just let your pride go, alright? Because at the end of the day, I had to do this alone. I had to come alone and I had to tell my grandmother I was pregnant alone and I had to birth Isla by myself. Before you, I really liked being alone and then you came into my life and I fell in love and I liked the person I was and I didn't want to be alone. But I was. I got fat alone and I had people stare because I was alone. I'm not going to do it again. So now's not the time for you to be choosy. You're going to stay at my grandmother's with me even if it makes you uncomfortable because I refuse to be on my own for another night. Got it?"
Tom nodded. causing both of them to fall into a more consistent walking rhythm. "Yes...I'm sorry," he tried again.
Sybil paused. "Please don't apologize! I just...I'm sure this is a lot for you. You know, you went from prison to fatherhood and I get that's a bit of a jump but I'm hoping that Isla and I at least make it a bit worth it. I wish we could have stayed in Dublin. I'd love for your mam and Katie Grace to meet Isla. But this is our life right now and we need to try to make it work. I need for you to try to make it work."
She tried to walk again but it was Tom's turn to stop her. "Syb, it is worth it. Of course it is. I don't even think of Dublin here. I can't. There's no time. This is just going to take some adjusting, alright? I went from sleeping on a concrete slab with an itchy wool blanket to falling asleep with you in my arms. Yeah, it's a change. And fuck, I can't even begin to tell you what last night meant to me."
"Yeah?" Sybil was more than entertained by Tom's comment. They'd both been fully clothed and after putting Isla down, they were asleep within moments.
"Yeah!" Tom responded confidently. "So I'm more than trying to make this work. I need this to work, Syb. I'm not going to lose you and Isla. Not again. But you have to be patient."
"I am being patient. You've been here for less than twenty-four hours. Maybe you need to stop expecting all of this to change overnight! Literally."
Tom raised his eyebrows and looked to Sybil skeptically. The stern glare she held broke, allowing her to sputter out a laugh, one he kissed away as he cupped her face in his hands. It was a silly action and Isla was roused at the sound, blinking up with wide eyes as her parents giggled, deflecting the actions of the other with lips that secretly craved what was being offered.
"People are staring," Sybil commented when she finally pushed Tom away and was able to straighten her blouse out.
"Sorry."
"No, it's…" He swore she sounded just as she did on the night they first made love. "It's okay," she assured. She stood on her toes now, reaching up to kiss him again despite her previous observation. "This is the good kind of staring."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Sybil nodded back, breathlessly. "For once they're staring because I'm not alone."
God, I miss these two. Is that allowed? Either way - thank you for reading!
x. Elle
