Falling - Tom Holland imagine

Chapter 3

Warning for Domestic Abuse triggers and Mental Health struggles

As I lay back on the lumpy pillows I felt the world begining to return around me. As before the faint smell of antiseptic, a regular beeping and a feel of plastic on my face. As I cracked my eyes open I could see things slowly swim back into focus. The white sheets across me, the pale blue blankets and the bandages and plastic cast around my left arm. The drip slowly falling down the tubing into the cannula in the back of my hand and the dryness of my throat.

"So Y/N, the surgery went very well." came a voice from the end of my bed. I squinted and saw a bright yellow name tag with "Amina" on it against the ever present blue scrubs and comforting smile. She was flicking through my chart and began bustling around checking the heart monitor I was wired up to and popping a oxygen monitor on my finger. 

"They cleaned the wound on your arm and stitched up a small tear in one of your tendons for your pinky. You're on course to be released tomorrow if all your vitals remain as good as they are now. Is there anything I can get for you?"

"Water, please." I begged through the oxygen mask.

I closed my eyes again and lazily waited for some water.

*********************** flashback ****************************

The curtains around my bed pulled open and a man with dark curly hair and glasses peeked round it.

"Hi" he said hesitantly. "Is it okay if we come in?"

"Sure?" I replied quizically.

"I should probably intorduce myself. We're the ones who brought you in" he began, pulling a shorter curly haired brunette boy along with him. "You rescued Tessa, our dog from a bush, but gashed your arm in the process. My sons helped you bandage it up before you collapsed and we brought you here. How are you doing?"

I blinked slowly looking at them, the younger boy looking hesitant but clearly interested in all the different machinery around me. The family resemblance was unmistakeable - the same curly mop and wide brown eyes. "I'm good, I guess." I reply gesturing with my right hand at the wires, machines and bandages which adorned me.

" Stupid question I guess." the man stated a little sheepishly. " My names Dom and this is my son Paddy. It was his brothers who helped you but they've taken Tessa to the vet for a quick check up. Tom's not good with injuries and accidents and the like so its probably for the best..." he tailed off

" Sure, I get it" I said. "Thank you so much for helping me out, not many people would bother in this day and age"

" No, thank you for rescuing Tessa, she's a real part of our family and we'd be devastated to lose her. I really hate that you've sustained an injury from helping us out and wish there was more or at least something we could do for you."

"What about dinner?" his son piped up "Mum always says a meal is a way to say thank you?"

"Thats not quite what she says or means, but I know the sentiment, and why not, when you're released you should come for a thank you dinner - I know we'd all love to give you our thanks in person."

"That's really unnecessary" I started with a small smile on my face

" No, no we insist" Dom began.

"Please?" interjected the boy at his side. "Mum would really like to"

"Of course then, who am I to say no to the collective might of Tessa's family" I agreed, too tired to argue.

Dom pulled out a business card from his wallet and placed it on the bed. "Give me a call or text or something when you're up and about. We'd love to hear from you."