Supernatural (Tom Holland x Reader)

9. Meltdown

A/N: SO super sorry that I haven't written in a while! I feel like a terrible author. I don't know about you guys, but I SO super miss Tom. Tom, if you're reading this (which I secretly hope you aren't because then you'll think I'm a creep for writing fanfic about you...) I miss you. Like...come back please? Anyhoo...

I stayed in my room for the rest of the day all by myself, and not just because I had been thouroughly hurt by Sam and Harry's words (although I was worried for my job and what it would bring for my friendship with Tom and Paddy). I had also been feeling much worse, and the dark line starting in the Deathbite had nearly reached my heart. I knew that meant instant death, in terms of blood poisoning, but I'd had blood poisoning before and this felt nothing like it.

Tom had assigned me a few more books to read while I rested so he could keep Paddy company for the rest of the day. I was getting nowhere. In fact, I was so lost in paragraphs and pages of "how to recognize a witch" that my vision was blurring (or maybe that was my current condition). Paddy didn't know anything about what was going on. He thought I was taking a much-needed nap. Tom and I didn't want to worry him about the impending doomsday or the reality of witches, but I secretly wish he knew. I wanted to tell him. He deserved it. But I knew I couldn't.

I was about halfway through The Identification of Magical Beings  when I couldn't handle it anymore. All the words were out of focus, there was nothing that could've helped us find another witch, and even if we knew how, we'd have to search every house in every town of the entire country, convince her to come back with us, and then just MaYbE hope that she would help us out. Three days. We had three days. It was hopeless. And I was a freak.

I'd had it. Suddenly, I just wanted to destroy everything. Do you remember when you were young and had a fight with your parents? And you just wanted to see everything explode into a million pieces? I never grew out of that. And that was exactly how I was feeling. Dizzily, I scrunched my hand up into a fist and imagined the lamp on my bedside table exploding. I'd done it my whole life. It was satisfying, but I jumped when the lamp beside me started wobbling like a basketball around a rim and fell to the ground with a crash.

Odd, I thought, that seemed to be on there pretty well. Maybe Tom pushed it over to scare me or something. But even if he had gone invisible and pushed it over, I didn't have the Feeling. I gulped, stood, and pulled up my shirt over by the mirror on the wall. The purple line had reached my heart. If I had blood poisoning, I'd be dead before morning.