GyllenHolland: Cherry

Hospital

Tom woke up in a hospital bed. He had on a hospital gown, and IVs were in his arm. It hurt like hell to move his body. He sat up and tried his best to remember what happened. Did he fall asleep while shooting a scene? Is he on set right now? He looked down and saw the fresh cuts in his arms, and realized he fucked up.

His attention turned to how dark and cold the room was. Light was shining from the hallway into his room, and a black and white T.V. show was playing. It seemed to be nighttime still.

Beeps from machines pumping medicine into his veins echoed throughout the hollow room. From what he could tell he had a steady pulse and a steady heart rate. He leaned back into the bed.

Trying to get a good idea of what he had done, he noticed Harry was sleeping in a chair beside him. His hair fell over his forehead, and his eyes had heavy bags underneath them. There were also doctors talking outside his hospital window. One was writing notes and the other was fixing her stethoscope.

He reached for the counter, and grabbed his phone. He winced as he moved his wrist. The bright screen made his eyes hurt. After he adjusted, his mouth jaw dropped. He had made headlines in almost every news article.

"Spider-Man's Tom Holland
Hospitalized."

The news was out. His self harming might've cost him everything, and that itself was enough to send him into another spiral. He opened his text messages and replied to his mom, dad, brothers, cast members, and anyone else who he cared deeply for. The only person that didn't text him was Jake.

"Tom? Lay back down. The doctor said that you don't need to move around." Harry said. Tom didn't respond, or even bother looking at him. He just kept scrolling through his phone, coming to terms with what he had stupidly done.

Harry jerked his phone out of his hands. "Can you fucking listen to me?!" He snapped. He threw his phone down in his chair.

Tom started crying and laid back down in his bed. "I need help Harry." He whispered.

"Mum and Dad have already set it up with your therapist. And you're getting time off work."

"Ho- how did I get here?" Tom asked, breathing shakily.

Harry looked down, kind of kicking at the floor. "I was bringing back your favorite food, because I knew you were stressed out. But the door was locked." He tried fighting the tears, but failed. "I knocked, and knocked. But you didn't answer. I pressed my ear to the door and heard you breathing heavy."

"Harry-"

"I didn't know what else to do but call for help. I couldn't lose you." He was sobbing now. "When help came-"

"You don't have to tell me the rest." Tom whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. You didn't deserve to go though that."

His brother sighed, depressingly. He didn't understand how he missed all the signs. At this point, they were obvious. Him not wanting to wear anything but long sleeves, or wearing loads of bracelets to cover his wrists. It all made sense now.

"We can talk later." Harry said. "Please just sleep for now. I'm sure the doctors will have questions to ask in the morning."

Tom nodded. He rolled over and closed his eyes. He tossed and turned for about ten minutes, but could not sleep. How could he sleep when he just fucked up everything good he had in his life?