She was standing on the train platform, a giant trunk in hand. The young woman looked a bit lost and lonely. She glanced around at all the unfamiliar American structures. It was her first time outside of Great Britain. She looked down at her ticket. She hadn't been assigned a compartment, just a car-number 26. She started off for the other end of the train, struggling under the weight of her trunk. Thankfully, she was able to make it to her destination, the luggage car, without any major mishaps. Looking up at the rack she inwardly groaned. The only open spaces were on the top row. She wrapped her skinny arms around the trunk and started to lift. She pushed it over her head, but quite honestly, she wasn't the most athletic. Her heartbeat quickened when she felt the case start to slip, but she couldn't do anything to stop it. It was about to fall completely when two new hands caught it.
"Need some help?"
Jemma blinked into the darkness. She rolled over and squinted at her alarm clock. One in the morning. She slumped back against her pillows. They didn't have to be on the train until two in the afternoon so she could afford to sleep in. She closed her eyes and let the fuzzy blackness overtake her.
She blushed bright red as the boy set her trunk down safely.
"Thank you." She mumbled quietly, not quite making eye contact. He smiled.
"It's no problem. Here, let me help you get it on the rack." He spoke with a heavy Scottish accent, but it was clear enough to understand. They lifted the trunk together and slid it into one of the open slots. He gave her the sweetest smile she had seen in a long time. This time she cautiously returned it with a small one of her own.
"Thank you." She said once more, quietly. She gave a small wave, then turned her back on the boy and boarded the train.
The boy watched her go. She seemed so desolate, travelling by herself. He wondered if he would see her on the train. He was sure she was full of interesting stories-most quiet people were after all, if you only stopped to listen. Where was she going, he wondered, and why? From the few softly spoken words she had given him he had noted a British accent. I wonder if she watches Doctor Who, he thought subconsciously. He gave his head a little shake to refocus, sending his messy curly hair into a flurry. He lifted his own trunk up onto the rack next to the British girl's and stepped up into the train car.
Fitz opened his eyes, half expecting to see a train station. He squinted a little and blinked, pulling himself back into the present day. He rolled his head to the side and saw that there was no light coming in from the window-it was still pitch black outside. Relieved that he didn't have to get up yet, Fitz pulled his blanket up a little higher and snuggled down as sleep pulled him under again.
The boy's first glance around the train car revealed nothing, so he took a seat near the compartment door. He pulled out his notebook and flipped to his latest design-an updated spectrometer. The boy immersed himself in his design as the train lurched out of the station.
The girl curled into her window seat. She had a book propped against the table but she was currently staring out at the passing countryside. There was a crack in the window seal that let in a tiny stream of bitterly cold air. She shivered, wishing she hadn't left her extra coat in her trunk. She wrapped her arms around her waist and turned back to her book, flipping the page with a pale hand.
"You look like you could use some warmin' up."
This time Jemma woke up shivering. She rubbed her hands over her arms and pulled the blankets back up. Her alarm clock told her it was four am. She let her mind drift back on her dream. It was familiar, but it had been a long time since the boy from the train had crossed her mind. She smiled fondly at the memory as she slipped back into unconsciousness.
About halfway through the journey the boy looked up from his notebook. The car had emptied considerably and now he could properly see the remaining occupants. Towards the middle of the car he saw the one person he hadn't realized he was looking for. He watched the girl shiver in her seat, then he pushed up out of his chair and went to the concession car.
The girl looked up and found herself face to face with the boy from the luggage car.
"Do you mind?" He asked shyly, gesturing to the seat across from the girl. She shook her head and he sat down, sliding a steaming mug over to her. She gratefully wrapped her hands around it, flinching slightly at the heat.
"Thank you." She spoke softly still, not quite looking at him.
"So, where are you off to?" He asked kindly, offering her a sweet smile when she looked up.
"College." She smiled tentatively in return, then took a small sip of cocoa.
"That's me as well." He looked out the window, "which are you attending?"
"I'm starting at Harvard. What about you?"
"I'm heading to MIT." She nodded and took another sip of her drink.
"That's nice."
The boy was already taken with the quiet girl across from him. Her simple brown hair fell down in front of her chocolate eyes. For the moment her mouth was a straight line but he loved the way her eyes lit up when she smiled. He asked her a few more questions, drawing her out of her shell little by little. He glanced down and his eyes widened when he saw the book that she had been reading before he sat down.
"You like Harry Potter?"
A loud set of footsteps clomping past his door woke Fitz. He blinked groggily, his brain refocusing on reality after being so suddenly jerked out of the past. Once he had resettled he thought back on the quiet girl from the train. That had probably been the best train ride he had ever been on. His already weak memory of her British accent was fading rapidly. I guess that's what happens when you don't see someone for four and a half years, thought Fitz sadly. He felt a knot of regret and sadness settle in his stomach. I definitely messed that one up, he thought as he drifted back off to sleep.
The girl glanced down at the book in front of her and grinned, her whole face glowing.
"Ever since I was a little girl." She answered, speaking at a normal volume for the first time. "I always liked to imagine that I belonged at Hogwarts, rather than at my primary school." She looked away, embarrassed to have admitted her childish wish, but the boy simply smiled.
"I used to think the same thing." He said, "The trio was always better friends to me than any of my classmates." The girl nodded, then dared to ask her own question.
"Do you watch any TV shows?" This time it was the boy's face that lit up with excitement.
"My whole family watches Doctor Who." The girl felt her grin extend to her ears as her own excitement grew to match his. They passed the train ride together, talking about books and TV shows, comparing theories about what would happen in the next season. Too soon a voice rang out over the intercom and the girl looked down at her ticket.
"This is my stop."
The words just about broke the boy's heart. He tried not to look too disappointed. He was surprised to see that she too looked reluctant to leave. But she closed her book and slid it into her bag.
"You better let me help you get your trunk." He said to her teasingly. She blushed but smiled at the memory of their meeting. The train lurched to a halt and the pair stepped out to the luggage car. He reached up and pulled out her large red trunk, setting it down gently next to her on the platform.
"Well…I guess this is good-bye then." He knew they probably wouldn't meet again. She looked sad at his words, but she nodded. She knew the odds as well as he did.
"Thank you…for everything." She seemed genuinely grateful, just for his short friendship. He grinned.
"My pleasure." He glanced over at where the train attendant was waving passengers back on. "I guess that's my cue to go."
The girl nodded. "Go on then." With a final wave, the boy turned his back and boarded the train. He was too far away to see the tears forming in the girl's eyes as her first friend in this new world walked away.
It wasn't until the train had pulled away that they both realized they never asked for each other's names.
Tears were in Fitz's eyes when he opened them. The sadness was always there at the end of that dream. The terrible regret for letting such a good friend go, never to be found again. Even though he had searched the train every year when he went home to Scotland, he had seen no trace of the sweet smiling, brown-eyed girl and it broke his heart. It might seem irrational to many, but as someone who had always felt isolated because of his high intellect, Fitz valued each and every friend that accepted him and it killed him that he had let one get away. He checked the clock. Seven's an acceptable time to be up, he decided. He didn't particularly feel like going back to his dreams at the moment anyway. Maybe I'll see her this year. He shook his head, but couldn't help the tiny blossom of hope in his chest.
When Jemma stirred, a single tear had traced its way down her cheek. She would never really forget the curly-haired boy on the train. He had been her first pleasant memory of America, something comforting when she had been so very lost. She had checked every train car she had ridden back to England, hoping to see her nameless friend coming down the aisle, but she was always disappointed. I should probably get up, she thought, stretching. There was light coming through the window now, landing on her bare floor. I wonder if he'll be on the train this year, mused Jemma as she pushed herself out from under the covers. Despite the rational part of her brain that told her he wouldn't be, a small spark of hope glowed inside her.