Peter Parker & Tom Holland Imagines

holland & holmes pt.4

I come to with a throbbing head and aching wrists tied next to my head. Immediately, panic begins to creep up my spin. It sends my heart pounding and lip quivering as my mind tries to take me back to that fateful night.

No, that's not what's happening.

The sight of Lord Alfred Barrowman with a bandage around his thigh makes that clear. "You're awake." He smiles like a Cheshire. "Now, we can begin."

"Not quite yet." I reply and try to rid myself of the nausea as I force myself to stand. "I'd like to know why I'm here, your reasons for taking me and the others. Although, I'm most curious to hear why you left the note? You gave us clues that read right to you; why do that if you were just getting started?"

He remains quiet and still as a statue. "Unless," I muse and lean against the wall, "Rosamund wasn't your first victim. Perhaps, you had already started your mission, only to have all your hard work hidden by the shamed families of the girls. So, you decided to stage them and leave notes behind to draw attention to your cause.

"I'll even put money on it that it started with your personal vendetta. So, after Marie, who else did you target?"

"Only those that needed cleansing and mercy." He tells me and draws out the knife that Thomas and I had previously identified as the blade used in the murders. I let him ramble as I mentally come up with a way out of this situation.

My wrists ache as I adjust to press my thumbs flat against my palms. It's a gift, as Papa tells me, that I've always been able to utilize and escape restraints.

Well, almost always.

Lucky for me, Alfred isn't nearly as clever or researched as Moriarty was. No, he's not even remotely so. Moriarty made sure that night to tie my hands so I couldn't slip out and was forced to watch his final battle against my father.

The mere thought of that night makes me feel ill, but I brush it aside and return to the situation at hand, which is rapidly escalating as Alfred flicks the knife to make it glint in the lamp light. "Now," he whispers with a menacing grin, "it is finally time for your cleansing."

"Actually, it's not." Thomas's familiar voice calls out and draws Alfred's attention. I utilize the distraction to tug my hands free, but the sudden movement regains the growingly agitated Alfred's focus.

"No!" His enraged yell echoes in the cramped basement as he pulls me to his chest with the blade pressed against my abdomen. "She has to be cleansed. I am justice; I am Mercy incarnate. It—" The words are interrupted by the crack of his nose as I slam my head back into it. He lets out a guttural cry as he stumbles back in pain and shock.

Immediately Thomas pulls me towards him as Harrison moves in to secure Alfred. "Are you alright?" He questions as he searches my face, but the lingering adrenaline makes the words seem distant. My eyes are glued to the retrained Lord Barrowman, who is screaming his propaganda and kicking as Harrison drags him away.

Thomas's fingers curl beneath my chin and gently turn my head so I'm forced to look at him. "Are you alright, darling?"

"I believe so besides the minor concussion and abrasions." I tell him as the fog still lingers, and it takes me a moment to register the damp sticky feeling on my fingers. "Of course, the one time I go out for a party I get blood on my only decent gown."

"Is that your blood?" Thomas questions as the worry creeps in his voice.

"Quite possibly." I mumble as the adrenaline quickly fades leaving me unsteady on my feet. "Well, actually, judging by the dizziness, the clammy skin, and the rapidly rising heartbeat, I do believe it is mine. Best to get me to Uncle John or a hospital." Thomas's eyes grow wide at the words and his arms immediately wrap around my waist as I fall forward into the gaping black spots that overtake my vision.

My body feels like lead as I barely manage to open my eyes. I don't need my sight though to sense the people around me, especially not the hand that's wrapped around my own. "Don't worry." Uncle John's voice whispers, "She'll be fine. Trust me, the Holmes family isn't easily put down."

"Oh, that, I know." Thomas replies with a sad edge to his voice. "My issue is how to keep her from getting into these situations, or at least, how to let me in."

"I wish I could help you with that one, but she's far different from her father. My best suggestion is to just give her some time."

"Yeah, time." Thomas mutters as he traces over my knuckles with his thumb.

"Listen to you two, gossiping like a couple of courtly ladies." I joke with a groggy smile.

Uncle John smiles at me and shakes his head. "I'll leave you two to talk. Be careful of those stitches and, please, try to take it easy for a while."

"I make no promises." I tell him as I sit up in my bed. Thomas lets out a heavy sigh at the comment and avoids my eyes as he stares down at his hands, which fiddle with the pocket watch instead of my own now that I'm awake. "Has Lord Barrowman been saying anything?" I ask, unsure of what else to ask after everything that's happened.

"Harrison telephoned recently and said that he won't stop talking. It's mostly gibberish, but he's already confessed to the two murders we were investigating, and another two additional killings." Thomas pauses as he meets my eyes, and it's only now that I can see how the remaining effects of his tears. "You gave me quite a fright. I thought I had lost you again."

My heart lurches in my chest, and I instinctively reach for his hand. "It will take a lot more than that to put me down. Although, I'm certainly going to think twice before attending another party."

"Please, don't joke." He whispers and shakes his head, clearly frustrated. "I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you. There's so much I feel like I need to say, and I didn't realize how much I needed to until I thought I might have lost you."

"Then tell me now. You and I both know that time isn't something we always have ample supply of." I tell him and give his hand a gentle squeeze.

"You terrify me, Y/N Holmes. It honestly terrifies me how much I care about you, and I can't even explain how difficult it's been these past few months without you." He tells me as his thumb traces over the hills and valleys of my knuckles. "I firmly believe that letting you go was the greatest mistake I ever have and will make. Then tonight, when you were putting yourself on the line, I realized just how foolish I've been to wait to rectify the situation."

"Thomas, what are you saying?" I question. My heart is pounding against my sternum and the aching pain becomes distant. I have a feeling I know what he's about to say, but I bite back my hopes in case I'm wrong.

"What I'm saying is, I don't deserve you, and I certainly don't deserve a second chance. Still," he pauses and moves to sit on the edge of the bed next to me as he reaches into his pocket, "Y/N Holmes, would you do me the great honor and privilege of giving me a second chance to become your husband?"

My whole body freezes as Thomas holds out the ring. It's the same one he gave me all those months ago and has rested against my heart for so long. "Alfred took it as a souvenir, and the constables dropped it by a few hours ago." He tells me, clearly growing more nervous with every second of my silence. "As foolish as it is, I thought it might be a sign."

"Yes." I whisper as my senses finally return to me. Thomas's head immediately snaps up and eyes search mine for any hesitation or uncertainty. "Of course, I'll give you a second chance. In case you haven't noticed, I've missed you too. You're my safety, Thomas, my confidante, and best friend. I'm only upset it took us this long to reconcile."

"Are you certain?"

"Absolutely. I just want you to promise me one thing, that you'll trust me when it seems like I'm believing in the highly improbable. Because like my father says, 'when you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.'"

"I can promise you that, my love." He tells me with a soft smile as he slips the ring on my finger and presses a kiss to my knuckles. "Trust me; I won't make that mistake twice."

"Good." I whisper and pull him forward by the shirt collar to press a kiss to his lips. "So, I suppose Holland and Holmes are back in business. Criminals beware."

Thomas merely laughs and agrees with me before pulling me back into the kiss.