Air Raids Aren't Completely Terrible
"Come on Sybil," Mary said as she shook her youngest sister awake. Sybil turned over and buried her face in her pillow, mumbling and groaning at her sister's actions. "Sybil, I mean it. It's an air raid," Mary insisted frantically. She left Sybil's bedroom and headed down the stairs, having woken the last of the people in the house. Sybil hauled herself out of bed, slipped her feet into her slippers and grabbed her thin dressing gown as she left the room. She ran down the stairs with Edith not far ahead of her and before long she had caught up with the rest of her family as they all headed towards the communal air raid shelter in the village. Luckily it was only down the road from their house, so they never had to go very far. Sybil looked down at her feet as she ran through the night, knowing that it was likely that there would be debris and small pieces of shrapnel that she would be clumsy enough to trip over. She kept running towards the shelter, but looked up too late to avoid colliding with another villager, who also seemed to be desperate to get to the shelter in time. Sybil fell backwards onto the hard floor and the stranger stumbled sideways, only just managing to stay upright. Sybil quickly stood up to avoid being knocked about or trodden on by others. Neither one of them asked if the other was alright – there wasn't time for that; instead they both made their way quickly into the shelter. Sybil sat next to her mother who gave her a quick hug and a reassuring, yet tired smile. Sybil then realised that the man whom she had run into was sitting next to her.
"Are you okay?" the man asked gently.
"I think so. My wrist cushioned the blow, but other than that, everything's about as good as it can be," Sybil replied.
"Let's have a look," he said, gesturing to her wrist. It was only now that she realised it was bleeding. There didn't seem to be much dirt in it, luckily, but it was certainly a substantial wound. "Here," he said as he searched in his pocket for a handkerchief. "Let me wrap your wrist in this. It's clean, I promise," Sybil said, gladly giving him her wrist. "There, that should hold it steady for a while." The two of them smiled at each other. "I'm Tom, by the way," he said.
"Sybil Crawley," she said. Ordinarily, she would have held out her hand for him to shake, but it happened to be her right hand that was injured.
"You look cold," Tom stated.
"Only a little bit," she replied. "My better dressing gown's getting washed, so I've got to wear this tatty old thing and the fact that I've just woken up probably has something to do with it as well. Having air raids in the dead of night is extremely annoying and highly inconvenient!"
"That's the idea. They want to make it as inconvenient as possible so that we surrender to them. But it's not only the air raids that are annoying, it's everything about the War," Tom stated.
"I suppose that's true. You'd have thought they'd have learnt from the first one."
"Yes, but it really is remarkable how many politicians are narrow-minded, egotistical idiots," Tom said strongly. "But we've got to give them credit. They've learnt one or two things from the last War." Sybil frowned at him, wondering what he was on about. "Well, they didn't promise that this one would be over by Christmas, at least."
"We've had a year. Now it's just a question of how many more there are to go."
"Honestly, I'd just be a little more cheerful if the blitz would stop," he said with a sigh.
"Wouldn't we all?" Sybil replied softly and sympathetically. "But we all know that the Germans aren't going to give up any time soon."
"We should give up. If Britain surrenders now we'll only lose some pride and a bit of dignity."
"Yes, but haven't you heard," Sybil said, jokingly. "The British aren't sure how to live without pride and dignity!"
"Stop turning something serious into something funny, Sybil," Mary scolded from the bench opposite her. She had overheard Sybil's conversation through the muffled murmur of people talking to one another.
"Mary, if we're serious about everything one hundred percent of the time, then we're never going to get through this War. Why else do you think all wartime songs are cheerful? We need something to lift our spirits, don't we?" Mary simply rolled her eyes and turned back to her father, to whom she was talking previously. Sybil covered her mouth with the back of her hand to politely hide her yawn.
"You look knackered," Tom said gently.
"I am," Sybil said in reply. "Sleep isn't one of those things you get a lot of when there's a War on. I should probably try and get some sleep here actually while I can."
"I should probably do the same," Tom said. Sybil drew her knees up in front of her and leant her head back against the wall and slowly drifted into sleep.
When she woke, the air raid still hadn't finished and she found that during her sleep she had slipped sideways and was resting her head on Tom's shoulder. She startled and sat upright, only to find that Tom was awake and smiling at her. "Morning," Tom said quietly so as not to wake those who were still asleep, including all of Sybil's family. Besides Tom and Sybil there were only about three others awake. Sybil glanced at her watch to notice that it was ten minutes past five.
"Morning," she replied blearily. She stretched her arms in front of her and then said in a quiet and low voice, "I'm supposed to be at work in an hour and a half. This had better be over by then!"
"Half past six is early. What do you do?"
"I'm a nurse. The only problem with that is that our hours are increasing much faster than our wages."
"That's the War for you," Tom said.
"Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love my job, but it's a shame, that's all. There aren't enough people or resources to treat the wounded. And even if there were more nurses, I don't know what would happen because there isn't enough money to pay any more nurses."
"There isn't enough money to keep this War going forever, that's for certain," Tom stated.
"But how many people will we have lost before the government realises that?" Sybil asked as a rhetorical question.
"Too many; we've already lost too many," Tom stated.
"So what do you do?" Sybil asked after a slight pause, wanting to talk about anything other than the War.
"I've just started a job as a journalist. I used to be a chauffeur back in Ireland, but I decided that I wanted to be a journalist not long ago."
"How long have you been in England for?" Sybil enquired.
"Since about noon yesterday."
"So that explains why I've never seen you before."
"Yeah, that'll be why!" Tom said.
After about another ten minutes, the all clear sounded, waking up everyone else in the shelter. "Finally!" Sybil sighed. She and Tom stood up together and prepared to leave the shelter. She didn't want to have to walk back with Mary interrupting her conversation with Tom. When the two were out in the fresh air they began walking forward slowly so as not to block the entrance to the shelter.
"Where do you live?" Tom asked. "I'll walk you home."
"That's awfully kind of you," Sybil said with a kind smile. "And that would be really nice actually."
"Alright then. But you'll have to lead me there, because I obviously don't know where you live."
"Obviously," Sybil agreed. After a couple of seconds, Tom said,
"So, how many sisters do you have?"
"Two. Mary's the one who told us off for having a bit of a laugh. And then there's Edith as well. They're both older than me and they're always quarrelling over something or other."
"Well that must create a marvellous atmosphere in the house," Tom said sarcastically.
"Oh, you have no idea!" Sybil laughed. "Do you have any siblings?"
"Five sisters and three brothers. And when I was growing up in Dublin, we had quite a small house, so there was always a lot of noise and my brothers and I were always put in our place!"
"I wish my family was like that."
"No you don't – it takes a lot of effort and it's ridiculously crowded."
"Yes, but I wish my father would listen to me. With the entire family being female, he thinks he has to take charge and he hates admitting to us that we're right. He always has to be the one who's right and it's almost like we aren't allowed to share our opinions."
"I'm sure he's just protecting you."
"From what? My own shadow? And anyway, if it is simply protection, he's taking it a bit too far. I might be 21, but Edith's six years older than me and Mary's seven years older."
"You don't look 21," Tom said.
"Thanks, but I'm sure you're just trying to charm me."
"Maybe I am," Tom said with a grin. "Is it working?"
"Actually, it is rather."
It didn't take long to arrive at Sybil's front door, but Tom continued to flirt with her the whole way there. "Here we are," Sybil said as she turned to walk down the garden path. Tom went with her to the front door. Sybil turned to Tom before opening the door.
"Any chance that I can see you again soon?" Tom asked eagerly.
"Why don't you come and find me tomorrow? You know where I live now. I'll be in all day tomorrow, so why don't you come and take me out?"
"Sounds excellent. Does any particular time suit you?"
"Any time at all. It really doesn't make a difference, as long as I get to see you again."
"Brilliant. It seems that air raids aren't completely terrible."
"How did you come to that conclusion?" Sybil said, folding her arms and tossing her hair out of her eyes.
"Without that air raid, I wouldn't know you." Sybil could feel herself blushing slightly.
"You're a charmer, Tom. Thank you for crashing into me."
"Not a problem. It was my pleasure!" At this, Sybil giggled. She put one hand on Tom's shoulder and leant in to lightly kiss his cheek as a goodbye. She rustled in her pocket for her key and then opened her front door. When she looked back to Tom, she saw Mary walking up the garden path. She looked tired, but also looked determined.
"Sybil, what are you doing?" she sighed as she approached her sister. Tom stepped back a bit and said quietly,
"I'll leave you two alone."
"No, Tom, stay exactly where you are!" Sybil said firmly. Tom stood still and stayed silent. Then, turning to Mary, Sybil said, "If you must know, I'm talking to Tom. Not that it should matter, because it's none of your business whom I do and don't talk to. Papa controls my life enough; I don't need you to do it too."
"Sybil, don't be such a child," Mary said with a strop as she walked past Sybil into the hallway of their house. Sybil turned to Tom and apologised quickly.
"Don't worry about it," he said. "Three of my five sisters are older than me and they were always overprotecting me. I know how it feels."
"Well, I suppose that's a positive," Sybil said. She then looked at her watch and was shocked at how quickly the time had gone. "Oh, I'm going to have to be at work soon."
"I'll leave you to it, then," Tom said. "I'll come by tomorrow."
"I look forward to it," Sybil said. "Oh!" she added, just before Tom turned to leave. "What about your handkerchief? It's covered in blood…"
"I don't mind. Why don't you keep it? I've got plenty of them." Tom then turned back down the path, passing Edith on the way, and Sybil returned to her house to prepare for the day ahead, smiling contentedly. She felt that this could be the beginning of something extremely good.
This was quite a lot of fun to write so I hope you liked it. Rock the AU is organised by The Yankee Countess, and there's a different theme every month for shippers of Sybil and Tom (though, I guess it can be used by other shippers too). Please review if you have a spare minute.