every step of the way // tom holland

sick

Things between you and Tom had gotten kind of weird. The two of you hadn't really had a real conversation since the day he had found out you were pregnant. Before, the two of you would often just sit together, like in the kitchen, and it would be silent, but you would be together. Now, even that was rarely, if at all, happening.

Even though things had become a little different, Tom still kept his promise. He was there for you, every step of the way. Somehow, he always knew when you needed something - you would begin to feel hungry, and Tom would happen to come home with food for the both of you. He would let you sleep when he came home to find you passed out on the couch, rather than bother you like he would've before.

The thing you probably appreciated the most was when you were sick. No matter the time of day, if Tom was home, he showed up in the bathroom as you threw up. He knew how much you hated throwing up, how you basically had a phobia of it, and he was always there. He would crouch next to you, pull your hair out of your face, and rub your back soothingly.

There was one day in particular that was absolutely terrible. You had pretty much spent the whole day on the bathroom floor, because if you moved much, it upset your stomach even more. It was no longer morning sickness. It was all day sickness. And you were miserable.

When Tom came home that day, he finally found you lying on the bathroom floor, curled up. He felt his heart drop; you didn't deserve this. Quietly, he stepped into the bathroom and scooped you up into his arms. You stirred in his arms as he carried you into your bedroom and placed you on the bed gently. He picked out some new clothes for you and carefully changed you before tucking you underneath a pile of blankets.

Just as he was about to leave, you reached out to grab his hand, mumbling from under the covers, "Stay. Please?"

He agreed after a pause, and without a word, slipped into the bed behind you so your back was to his chest. His hand rubbed your side gently until you'd fallen asleep. Not long after, he fell asleep next to you.

In the middle of the night, you woke with a start, your stomach lurching. As quickly as you could, you threw back the blankets and ran to the toilet.

Your quick movements had woken up Tom as well, and he was slower to respond, but he made his way to the bathroom. He found you leaning over the toilet, tears running down your face as you threw up for the millionth time that day. His heart dropped for the second time that day, and he moved to crouch beside you. His fingers threaded through your hair gently, pulling it out of your face and tying it back with one of your ponytails. He'd done this for you before, mornings after a party when you'd had a little too much to drink and ended up with an awful hangover. But it was different this time.

You were able to stop throwing up long enough to look up to Tom. "This absolutely fucking sucks, Tom," you cried, tears streaming down your face. This was one of your worst fears, honestly. You hated being sick more than anything.

Tom reached out hesitantly, brushing your tears off of your cheeks with his thumbs, murmuring softly, "I know, darling. I'm so so sorry." You could see the sympathy in his face as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

Just then, another wave of nausea hit you, and you threw up again into the toilet. Tom's hand rubbed against your back in slow, gentle circles as he whispered quietly to you that you would be okay, that it would be over soon, that he was so sorry.

When you were done throwing up, you rested your arm against the toilet and laid your head down on your arm. Tom's hand was still rubbing circles into your back, his eyes never leaving you.

After a few moments, you lifted your head and looked at Tom, absolutely spent. Tom helped you up, flushed the toilet and gave you your toothbrush. As you brushed your teeth, the water in the bath turned on. You turned to find that Tom was filling the bath for you.

Tom turned the water off and turned to face you, giving you a sympathetic smile. "Take a bath and relax, okay? Let me know if you need anything at all, yeah?" All you could do was nod your head as he pressed a kiss to your temple and then left the bathroom. You stared after him for a few moments. You were so grateful for that boy, even if it was kind of his fault that you were so sick.