THE HOLLAND BOYS AND HARRISON OSTERFIELD IMAGINES

Young Gods 2

written by: @/a-singleboat

A/N: ... part two

Word Count: 1413

Warnings: mentions of depression, mentions of a car accident

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Requested:

A week went by and the doctors said you were fine, perfectly healthy to go home. You went home with a prescription for rest, and and a new regular diet of antidepressants, pain pills, and more food than you usually ate. The doctors were wrong. You were physically well, but mentally deteriorating. To even get you into the car, they had to sedate you because without, you would've kept screaming.

Tom helped you into bed, whispering comforting words into your ear. You pushed him away and closed your eyes as to not see the hurt on his face. The door closed and you listened to his footsteps retreating down the hall. You let out a violent sob, shoving the heels of your hands into your eyes. After being reassured by Tom how it wasn't your fault at all, and you knew it wasn't, you still needed to mourn without him. Your grief shook your body and soaked the blanket. You pushed them off yourself and stumbled out of bed.

Staring back at your tear soaked face made you laugh. For some odd reason, just seeing your own face with tear marks on it was hilarious. You were delirious, that was for certain, and by the time Tom come back upstairs for bed, you were crying again. He helped you into bed before sliding in himself, allowing you to cling onto him.

Your dreams were plagued with the crash, but instead of waking up like you normally did with a nightmare, you stayed trapped. The crash happened over and over again, stopping right when you had blacked out on the scene.

You were on your side, staring into the bright headlights of the truck that had barreled into you. The driver was on the wrong side of the road, too drunk to comprehend that he was. You pulled to the side as quick as you could, but you weren't quick enough. The truck hit your side and stopped right after. Your car, however, flipped and landed on its side. The airbag deployed, shielding you from most of the head trauma. However, your seat belt held you back the most, cutting roughly into your chest and stomach. You were dazed and every bit confused when people started screaming. All you could see were the blinding lights of the truck.

And then, there were sirens before all you saw was black.

The next morning, you woke with a start. The best was empty next to you and the room was cold. On instinct, your hand shot down to your stomach only to feel the relatively flat surface. No child would be birthed from you in the next five months. You sobbed again, still grieving your child.

You don't know how, but Tom was hugging you and crying as well. Breakfast was on the nightstand and you held Tom closer.

"I was so scared, Tom."

Your hands shook as you pulled the blanket closer to the two of you, laying backwards in his arms. He kissed the top of your head, hugging you tighter. "I thought I'd never get to see you again."

"I was scared, too, bug." Tom reassured you. "But, we're okay. We'll become okay no matter how long it takes." Tom hated seeing you like this. Gone was the ray of sunshine you had always been.

"How do you know that, Tom?"

"Because, we're young gods."

A month later on the road to recovery, the cuts from your seat belt turned into ragged scars. Your nightmares still frequented, if anything, they've evolved. Once were the terrors of the crash to now the frightening images of Tom also having been in the car. You would turn your head and there he is, bloodied and bruised. These nightmares had you waking up in a cold sweat and frantically checking that Tom was okay before even thinking about going back to sleep. You often didn't, and ended up staying awake until the sun rose from the east.

These nightmares helped you wind up in this semi-uncomfortable chair in the office of a therapist. You had started seeing Dr. Mark Charles about a week after the newer nightmares had started and had been seeing him for the past two months. Sleeping next to the love of your life wouldn't keep the nightmares away no matter how many times the movies would insist that it would.

"How do you feel, Y/n?" This was the most common question you were asked. How are you?

The simple question had a simple answer. Fine. Now, the question was too complex for you to just say fine. So you replied always with, "Horrible. I always get this sinking feeling in my gut and I don't trust myself to drive anymore. I stopped hugging Tom in my sleep, but I miss him so much because he's offered to move to the guest room if it would make me feel more comfortable and I almost said yes."

Dr. Charles just nodded along, taking notes. You continued to talk, feeling more free than you had in a while. "And I feel guilty about almost saying yes, but I don't want him to lose any more sleep because of me. Tom's always been there for me and he now drives me everywhere. Him, Harrison, Zendaya, or Jacob do."

Dr. Charles noticed how you had stopped talking after mentioning who drives you. "Go on, Y/n."

"I just had a thought," you spoke out, tapping your fingers on your knee. "What if I moved with Tom. I think I could use the new start and we've already been talking about it."

Dr. Charles smiled at you before checking his watch. "Well, you're done for today so I suggest calling Tom and then talking about it to him when you get home. As for you on your own, I don't feel as if you need to see me again. Nicely put, I hope I don't ever have to see you again. You haven't mentioned your nightmares at all these past few visits and just last week you talked about adopting another pet to give Tessa a brother or sister. You're on the better part of the road to recovery, Y/n. I recommend you talk to Tom about your problems and anything you can't, write it in a journal."

You stand up and Dr. Charles does the same, shaking your hand. "Good luck, Y/n."

You smiled and thanked him before leaving to dial Tom. When the call went to voicemail, you frowned and called again, being sent to voicemail for the second time. You called Harrison instead. He picked up, slightly breathless. "Hey, Y/n. You need something?"

"Yeah, I need a ride. Tom's not answering his phone." You bit your lip, immediately thinking the worst.

"Yeah, I can come get you in about ten minutes. Alright? And I'm sure it's nothing to worry about with Tom."

"If you're sure. I'll see you in ten, then."

Fifteen minutes later and Harrison pulled up, still in his workout clothes. "Thank you for doing this for me, Harrison."

"No problem, Y/n." Upon seeing your worried face, he added, "He's probably just asleep or something."

"Yeah," you trailed off. Allowing yourself to be reassured.

Upon arriving at your home, you kissed Harrison on the cheek and bid him goodbye. You walked through the front door and was greeted by Tessa knocking at your legs. "Hi, Tess," you whispered. "Where's your dad?"

She barked loudly and you giggled. You heard a racket from the kitchen followed by Tom shouting, "Y/n, is that you?"

"Yes, Tom!" Was your response as you hung up your coat and bag on the hooks by the front door.

"Er, don't come into the kitchen just yet. I've a surprise for you!"

"Okay." You settle down on the floor and played with Tessa a bit, rubbing her belly and behind her ear.

"Okay, you can come in now."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes. Come in!"

You walked into the kitchen to see Tom on the floor with a Border Collie in his lap. "Surprise! Her name's Maple. A buddy of mine's dog just had pups not too long ago, so I took Maple off his hands."

"Have I ever told you how much I love you, Tom?"

"Might've come up once or twice," he laughed. "But it never hurts to hear it again."

"Well, I love you, Tom Holland. Forever as the young gods we'll be."