The one and only (Tom Holland - new version)

Chapter 11

*Olive's POV*

I woke up next to Tom, who was still in a coma. I felt numb. Scared. Heartbroken. All at once. My boy was hurt. My boy. He didn't deserve such a poor thing in life. He deserved the world. He deserved the life of any normal 22-year-old, not being in a coma. We hadn't even properly started a life together yet. A life I was yearning for him to be in. Just him, screw everything else.

"We're suspecting he'll wake up in a few hours and ask you to give him a bit of space, as it has been quite rough for him," a doctor said behind me. I turned around and thanked the doctor politely.

Four hours later he woke up. He stared at me.

"You have such beautiful eyes," he finally said with a raspy voice. I took his hand in mine and kissed him on the cheek once again.

"I've been worried sick, are you okay?" I calmly asked him as I sat down beside him, still with his hand in mine. He sat up a bit and winced at the pain. He shot me a sad smile which quickly faded.

"Freya and a couple of men attacked me on the way home from work. That's all I remember..."

"That evil bitch!" Sam, Haz and I exclaimed in sync as anger filled me once again. I would make that cunt beg for forgiveness and watch her lie before my feet as a subject. She. Would. Pay.

"Mate, you really frightened us there. How are you feeling now?" Harrison spoke as he stood up.

"Not great, I won't lie about that. You guys' presence does help a bit," Tom smiled at me, while giving my hand a quick squeeze. It was sweet, but I gave him a knowing look.

"Fine, I feel immensely terrible and honestly just want to go home..." He sniffled and tears formed in his eyes. "To England, I mean."

"We will. As soon as you're finished shooting the movie, we can go home. I would've suggested now, but I know how much playing Spider-Man means to you and I don't want you to give up that dream," I replied feeling my lips trembling a bit. I felt bad for him, and it was all my fault. Tom nodded and went in for a hug. It felt wrong to hug his fragile body, since I didn't want to harm him. Oh, how I wish Freya was dead or just not real. My mind became a mess, and I didn't notice Freya entering the hospital room.

"I'm disappointed you're still alive but seeing you like that... and seeing how upset Olive is... it does something funny to me. I can't really explain it, but it's a lovely feeling," the cunt herself said. One step at a time, she made her way over to me. Slowly. The words sleazy asshat came to mind. "This is just the beginning," she carefully stopped in front of me and caressed my cheek. I instantly grabbed her hand and removed it from my face. I was on the verge of exploding and couldn't think. "No, it's not," I pushed her hand away, making her take a step back, "It's the end."

While Freya showed how much of a psycho she was, Harrison had called the police. She mustn't have been able to see him behind the cupboard, which was in our favour. Not only did we have lots of evidence to begin with, but the cops heard everything she said and hurried. When they arrived, it was too late for her to escape and a part of me finally felt calm. On her way out, she screamed lots of things, such as, "I'm going to get revenge some day!", but let's see about that.

I felt bad for Tom and incredibly guilty that an old enemy hurt him to get back at me. It wasn't fair. She should've gone after me, not him. God, I was going to make sure she'd stay in prison for a long time. There was no way I'd let her get away with everything she'd done that easily.

Later that day, Tom was finally cleared to go home. As we stepped inside Tom's house, the smell of lasagna hit me and made my stomach rumbled. Quickly, the rest of the squad came running to hug us all. They sat us down in the kitchen and instantly shot a thousand questions our way. Harrison tried to explain what we had learned about the assault and as he spoke, I saw Tom become more and more distant. As if he was reliving it.

"Are you okay?" I mouthed and tried to make eye contact. No response. He was definitely struggling, and I couldn't just do nothing.

"The food will be ready soon," Astrid stated and turned around to face us, "I estimate it'll be ready in 30 minutes, give or take 5."

That gave me an open window to quickly talk to Tom. I quickly grabbed his arm and dragged him to his room. He gave me a curious look and tilted his head a bit. We sat down on his giant bed.

"Tom..." I sighed and took his hands in mine. "I know you're not doing great, which, obviously, no one would after such an experience. However, that means you need to talk to someone about it so you easier can work through it," he just looked at me, "and it doesn't have to be me. But please, talk to someone about it and remember I'll always be here for you."

He didn't say anything. We were engulfed in silence until his arms wrapped around me. A soft sniffle escaped Tom and I held him even tighter. No words needed to be said. Not yet anyway. We sat like that for quite a while; with Tom in my arms, quietly sobbing, while I caressed his cheek and lightly played with his hair.

"I'm not ready to talk yet," he finally whispered, sounding all choked up. I lifted his chin up so his eyes would meet mine.

"Darling, I understand," I pecked him on the forehead, "take your time, I'm ready whenever you are." He snuggled closer to me and put his head in the nook between my neck and shoulder.

"Thank you."

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(Wordcount: 1040)