finally here

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Hours later at the hospital, you were no longer calm like you had been earlier. Tom couldn't blame you, though. It'd been hours since the two of you'd arrived, meaning it'd been several hours since the earliest contractions started, and you hadn't progressed a whole lot. He knew you. He knew that the pain and your slow progress of labor was making you panicky. He knew that both of your families arriving, effectively flooding the room with people, was not helping any, so he sent all of them out, saying it'd be awhile.

But Tom didn't really know what to do. He didn't know what to do to make it better for you. He so desperately wanted to, even though he knew there wasn't much he could actually do. He hated seeing you, his best friend and the love of his life, in pain and wished he could take it all away for you. Tom had been your best friend for most of your life, and was always there to fight off whatever was causing you pain, to make you feel better, but he couldn't do that now.

Not knowing what else to do, he got into the bed next to you while you were between contractions, and slid his arm around you to pull you into his side. You immediately collapsed into Tom's side, balling the fabric of his shirt into your fists. His lips brushed over your forehead, hand rubbing up and down your back slowly, "Want a massage? Like in the class? They said it might help..."

Nodding your head, the two of you shifted your positions on the bed so you were sat between Tom's legs. His legs were on either side of your hips as you leaned back against his chest for support. Tom began giving you a massage, just like they'd taught in the birthing class. One of his hands left your skin to push your hair to one side of your neck, making space for Tom to press kisses to your shoulder and neck.

Though the massage was helping a bit, you could feel another contraction coming on, and you let your head fall back onto Tom's shoulder with a loud groan. Tom's hand slid around you, rubbing gentle circles onto your stomach, "Breathe, love, just like you learned. Can you do that for me?"

You nodded again, trying to focus on your breathing and Tom's hands as the next wave of contractions began. One of your hands gripped the railing on the side of the bed, your other hand grabbing onto Tom's forearm. When that one was finally over, you glanced up at Tom with teary eyes, mumbling out, "It hurts so much, Tom."

Tom frowned, feeling awful that he couldn't do anything for you. His hands left your sides and came up to cup both of your cheeks, brushing away a few tears that had fallen. "I know, love, and I-"

Letting out a quiet scoff, you stopped him short and pushed his hand away from your face. Suddenly, you were angry with him; he didn't know what it felt like, and he never would. "You don't know, Tom!" you were close to yelling, trying to scoot away from him, "You don't know what it feels like, and it's your fault anyway. I wouldn't be pregnant if it weren't for you, so fuck you, Holland." You could see the way Tom's face twisted up a little bit at your words, and you felt bad, but you couldn't exactly control your emotions in your current state.

Your sudden outburst made Tom feel terrible. He knew you couldn't really help it, and technically you weren't wrong, but it still felt awful. If he could take away your pain, he'd do it in less than a second. And, quite honestly, you were right. He'd never know what you were going through - what it felt like.

His hands slid around you hesitantly, but when you didn't pull away, he helped you back between his legs so you could lean against him. He continued to give you a massage, knowing another contraction would be coming soon. "I'm sorry," he murmured against your skin.

Your head shook quickly as you leaned back against him once more, "No, I'm sorry, I-" you paused and gritted your teeth together with your eyes closed tightly as another contraction hit you. "I didn't mean it, I know you're just trying to be supportive."

every step of the way // tom hollandWhere stories live. Discover now