Tom Holland Imagines

Martha

Warning: Minor character death and angst. I don't know why, but I keep on making Tom cry...please tell me if you want him to be happier. Stay happy and safe (and please read, comment, vote, etc!) Love you all 3000. 

"Darling, come on," you whispered, gently taking his hand. "It's time to say goodbye now."

"I'm not ready," Tom croaked, voice cracking. He swiped furiously at the tears running down his face. "She wasn't ready to go. I'm not ready to leave her. I don't want her to go. I don't want her to go, Y/N, please, I don't want her to go. I don't want her to go."

"There's nothing more we can do, love. It's time to say goodbye."

Tom looked down at the lifeless dog in his arms. "I'm sorry."

Tessa Holland

May 25, 2014 – September 3, 2027

To say that Tom was a mess would be an understatement. "She was 13, Tom. That's pretty old for a Staffy."

"She was attacked by a deer in the park, Y/N" Tom nearly growled. "She wasn't ready."

This was an ongoing argument in the Holland household. Tessa loved chasing squirrels and playing with the deer in the park. At 13, though, she was most certainly past her prime on the deer-hunting front. And for Tom, now into his thirties, it was abundantly clear he wasn't ready to lose his life-long partner.

The veterinarian gave them a sympathetic look. "There's just a bit of paperwork for you, Mr. Holland, when you're ready." She reached over and lifted Tessa out of his arms.

"Right, thank you," Tom said tightly. It was the same tone he used when the press got on his nerves. It was the get out of my way and stop talking voice, the if you keep on talking, I will break down and I refuse to break down in front of you tone. You rested your hand on his shoulder. I'm here.

The two of you stood up and went back into the lobby. It was quiet, too quiet, and yet at the same time, deafeningly loud. The clacking of the keys at the front desk, the bell that chimed when someone left or came in. It was the regular sounds of the pet emergency room, but it was unsettling all the same. The woman at the front desk handed them a clipboard.

"Just a few questions about what you want to do moving forward."

Tom walked over to a nearby chair and sunk heavily into it. "Cremation. I want her cremated. In an urn."

"And on her birthday, we'll sprinkle some of her ashes in the park. And she can live..."

"She can enjoy her afterlife chasing all the squirrels and playing with all the deer."

You filled out the rest of the questionnaire together before handing it back.

"Thank you. We'll have Tessa cremated and you can pick up her urn in about a week."

"My mum will be in to pick it up since Y/N and I will be in America for a few weeks."

"Oh, alright. Can I get her number so we can call her when we're ready?"

Tom nodded and wrote it down on the sticky note.

--- Time skip to after the premiere. I'll post the premiere later. This is about dogs.

It was early December now and you and Tom were walking together. It was cold and windy, and you were starting to freeze. When you got home, you decided, you'd light a fire and drink tea while watching stupid Christmas movies with Tom under a mountain of blankets.