Summary: Soulmates meet in their dreams from the age of 16 until they meet for the first time. Once they meet, they share their physical and emotional feelings with one another until they die. Tom Holland was just starting to learn how to take over the family business and ignore the urge to find his soulmate when everything changes and he’s found face to face with you. You’ve always wanted to meet your soulmate and spend the rest of your life with them until you actually meet yours and life changes forever.
Warning: swearing, drug use, mention of death
part four: help
Tom played with the ends of your messy hair as you slept soundlessly next to him. The sun was just peaking over the horizon, signaling the start to a new day. Tom didn’t sleep for more than an hour throughout the night. He couldn’t stop listening to your soft breathing and his heart ached every time you would uncomfortably shift away from your shoulder injury. Any time Tom would hear you whimper or feel your body tremble, he’d wake up from any form of sleep he was in and wrap his arm around you. After a few minutes of rubbing your back, Tom would feel your body relax and you start breathing deeply, again. He knew that his presence was helping you sleep through the night and he had to ignore the guilt that was building in his stomach.
Tom’s chest felt heavy as he looked up at the ceiling of your room. You were facing away from him, but he still kept a hand near enough to you that he could soothe you at a possible nightmare. A sigh fell from his lips as his chest ached to tell you everything he’d ever been through. He hated the thought of keeping his past from you, but he couldn’t avoid the way that he had been raised to think. He couldn’t stop seeing his father’s face every time you curled up closer to him. He felt like he was betraying his father, but at the same time, Tom knew he was causing you so much pain.
You wiggled just enough to catch Tom’s attention. He turned to look at you just in time to catch your eyelids lifting apart. He had to stop himself from smiling at the sight of your gorgeous, sleepy face looking at him. Your lips dropped into a frown as you blinked a few times to stare at him. Tom watched as your eyebrows pulled together into an expression of frustration. You sat up and jumped out of the bed. You grimaced and Tom assumed it was the hangover that was causing the expression on your face.
Tom sat up and opened his mouth to say something, knowing that his shirtless chest was cause enough for concern. A small tug pulled at Tom’s heart at the thought of you not remembering the soft words exchanged before you fell asleep last night. Tom could feel the anger in your chest drown out his sadness. Your cheeks burned as fire danced up your throat. You were pissed and you both knew how mad you were. Tom understood the anger, but he was so tired.
“Why are you still here? I’d expect you to have left and fucked another woman by now,” you spat at him. You shook your head and opened your bedroom door and stormed towards the living room.
Tom stood up and followed you into the small room, trying to ignore the venom in your voice. Tom was completely unaware how someone could live in an area so small, but he stopped himself from thinking about the size of your dingy flat any further. He sighed as your shaking hands opened the pill bottle full of drugs you had bought from his dealer. You popped three in your mouth with a small smile. Tom grimaced at the thought of dry swallowing three pills, but he couldn’t take his eyes away from you. “I promised to stay.”
You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “I’m doing just fine without you, Tom.”
“Clearly,” Tom hissed, not being able to restrain himself.
Your eyes burned with a fire he’d never seen from you before. He felt his chest heave as you narrowed your eyes at him. The pressure on his sternum was growing the longer you stared at him. “I’m sorry, Tom, but you don’t know a god damn thing about me and my life. You met me as some guy you were ready to fight randomly slashed open my chest and stabbed me in the stomach. You don’t know anything about me except the color of my fucking blood,” you snapped at him.
Tom shut his eyes at your jab. He knew you were right, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit it. He couldn’t bring himself to back down from this fight. Instead, he opened his eyes and shook his head at you. “Like you know anything about mine?”
“Oh that’s fucking rich, Holland,” you chuckled, humorlessly. You shook your head violently, not being able to tell who’s anger belonged to who. “As if your family hasn’t been terrorizing the city for the last two decades? I know your mother was shot in a back alley because my father was the man who prosecuted her murderer and was then murdered in retaliation. I know my mother grieved the loss of her soulmate so strongly that she became addicted to the heroin that your father sold. I know that he gave her more drugs than she asked for because I was there half the time that she bought the drugs. I know you pay off more police in this city than I can count and I’ve sure as hell seen the destruction your family leaves in its wake. I know more about you, Holland, because your fucked up clan has singlehandedly fucked up my life. I know you’re struggling to deal with the death of your father, but I’ve been an orphan since I was ten. I have no one, Tom. At least you have your pathetic family that would kill for you.”
Tom could feel the familiar burn of tears in the back of his throat. He recognized the burning in his chest and the weight of grief pulling his heart further in his stomach. He could feel the raw tenderness of sorrow that reflected in your eyes. Tom ignored this feeling. He ignored your sadness and focused on his anger. “Fuck you,” he seethed. “Just because you can read some papers doesn’t mean you know what’s going on in the world. You don’t know a single thing I deal with. You don’t know how isolating this life is.”
“Yeah, but don’t act like I never tried, Tom,” you whispered. Your eyes fell to the ground, but not before Tom noticed a tear fall down your cheek. “Don’t act like I didn’t beg for you to tell me about you. Don’t pretend that I never paid attention to the days you couldn’t speak because you felt so guilty and I instead talked the whole time we dreamt. I did more for you in those six years that we met in our dreams than you have ever done for me.”
“You don’t understand.”
You shook your head as you looked back at him. The coldness in your eyes told him that you were shutting him out. Tom knew he was fucking everything up, but he couldn’t stop the need to push you away. “I think it’s time you leave.”
Tom shifted his weight back and forth on his feet. He couldn’t leave you. Not when the look in your eyes told him to stay. He couldn’t leave when every part of his body ached to hold you. “No,” he whispered.
A heavy sigh fell from your lips. “You’ve caused enough damage for today, Tom.”
Tom’s brown eyes lifted to yours. You almost felt guilty for being honest with him, but you didn’t care if that honesty hurt him. You wanted to hurt him. You wanted Tom to hurt just as badly as you were, even if that meant you were selfish. Tom ran a hand through his messy curls and nodded, slowly. He inhaled and exhaled, loudly. “I don’t mean to hurt you, y/n,” he rasped. You almost didn’t hear him. You wished that you hadn’t, but the unmistakable flutter in your heart said otherwise. You couldn’t let him in, but every part of your soul was aching with every centimeter of distance between the two of you. “I promise. I want what’s best for you and if that’s space, then okay. If you need me to leave you alone forever, then I will. I’ll make myself okay with the thought of never seeing you again, but I want to help you. Please, let me help you.” Tom had taken a few steps closer to you. Your toes were almost touching and a soft pull in your throat was begging for you to close the gap and let him wrap his arms around you. Tom slowly lifted a hand up to brush his thumb against your cheek. “Please.”
You wanted to cave. Every part of your body was begging you to fall into those mournful eyes of his. “I can’t. Not yet,” you whimpered. Your bottom lip was trembling and you sucked it into your mouth and sunk your teeth into it. You tried to ignore the miserable ache in your heart that was growing all too familiar. “I can’t trust you, Tom.”
Tom wiped away the tear that had slithered down your cheek, leaving a burning trail in its wake. He slowly nodded, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. “Stay at my house with me,” he pleaded. “I have a guest suite and other people live there. You don’t have to see me if you don’t want to. Please stay with my family so we can help you. I know you lost your job,” he whispered. His brown eyes fell to the ground as he tried to ignore the embarrassment that you were feeling. “Let me help you.”
“Okay,” you whimpered, knowing that this was a bad idea, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You’d been strong long enough and you just needed a break.
*
“Here’s your suite,” Tom murmured. He opened the dark oak door that stood in front of you. The open door revealed a large, brightly lit room with neutral walls. The carpeting was the brightest shade of gray you’d ever seen and the floor-to-ceiling windows faced the garden behind the house. A massive king-sized bed was situated in the middle of the room. A dark gray dresser was pressed up against the back wall with a gorgeous ornate mirror sat on top. The room was nicer than any house or flat that you’d ever lived in. “Go on,” Tom softly chuckled.
You walked into the room, dropping your bags as you did so. On the other side of the bed was a door that led into a beautiful soft teal bathroom. A jacuzzi bath was tucked into the corner with a perfect view over the hills of the countryside. A smile lifted your lips at the luxury you’d have for the next foreseeable future. You looked back at Tom, who was resting against the door frame. His arms were crossed over his chest, accentuating his biceps. A soft smile danced on his lips and you knew he felt the awe you were feeling. A curl fell onto his forehead as he chuckled at you.
“Thank you,” you whispered.
Tom shrugged in response. “I have things I need to get done today,” he murmured, awkwardly. “If you need anything, my brothers are in their rooms just down the hall.” You nodded, fidgeting with the strap of your sling. Tom nodded back at you and clapped his hands together. He turned and walked down the hall, leaving you alone.
Leaving the door open, you flopped onto the king bed and felt your body be engulfed in the blankets on top of the bed. A smile lifted your lips as you watched the trees move in the wind outside. You could get used to this.
*
“She’s here?” Harrison asked, bewildered. Twelve hours ago, the two of you were at each other’s throats, yet now you were staying with them for the next foreseeable future.
“Yes, Harrison. I couldn’t just leave her alone in that sketchy flat. She’s addicted, mate. You should’ve seen the way her hands were shaking when she woke up this morning.” Tom tried to suppress the burning in the back of his throat. He couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that you were suffering because of him and that thought wasn’t completely wrong. “I promised her that I’d give her space, anyway.”
“You brought your soulmate here?”
Tom looked to see Harry standing in the doorway. His fists were clenched and he was glaring at Tom. “Yes, Harry, it’s complicated.”
“Dad would be so disappointed in you,” Harry hissed, taking a few steps further into the office. Tom closed his eyes at the jab, knowing that Harry was releasing his pent up emotions at Tom, simply because there was nowhere else for Harry to release them. “I spent years without mine and look what happened. It’s only a matter of time until the same happens to you.”
Tom dropped his head down towards the office desk. He shut his eyes again, wishing that there was another life for his family that wasn’t so fraught with tragedy. “I know what happened is painful, Harry, but it wasn’t your fault.” Tom lifted his head to look at his younger brother. His eyes were red and Tom knew he was doing his best not to cry in front of his brother. “It’s not your fault, Harry,” he whispered, again. Tom straightened fully and faced his brother head on.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Harry rasped, but Tom knew that he was trying to be strong. Harry had frequently put up a strong front for his family ever since their mom had died. Harry had constantly been the hard-headed and ready to fight sibling of the clan, but it was only a matter of time before this behavior came crumbling down.
“She’s hurting, Harry,” Tom murmured. “I’m just trying to help her.”
“You’ll get her killed if she stays here,” Harry snapped. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him with such a force that the whiskey glass on the desk shook.
*
You meandered down the stairs of the mansion and found your way to the garden. Rose bushes lined the pathway, creating an aroma that brought a smile to your face. The sun was directly overhead and danced along your skin. Despite the pounding headache you had, and the shakes you couldn’t stop, you were in a decent mood. Without thinking, you plucked a rose off of its stem and held it so gently as if you were scared it would break.
You shakily pulled out the painkillers you had stashed in your pocket and took three. A warmth fell over your body as the pills slipped down your throat. Maybe it was psychosomatic, but the shakes had already stopped. Before you could catch it, the rose had fallen from your fingertips and landed on the ground. A sigh fell from your lips as you bent down to pick it up, trying to ignore the tightness in your stomach.
You walked further down the path and you were met with a beautiful, handmade, wooden swing surrounded by lilac bushes. A soft smile lifted your lips as you imagined a young and carefree Tom swinging here during the summer. You sat down on the swing and slowly pushed yourself back and forth. Birds were chirping around you and you felt at peace for the first time in a long time. You tried to ignore the soreness in your shoulder or the tightness in your stomach. A soft breeze lifted your hair and you couldn’t ignore the sense of guilt pricking at the back of your throat. Your chest was heavy and there was a burn in your eyelids. It had been long enough since you met Tom that you knew those feelings were his, not yours.
“You shouldn’t be here,” a stern voice spoke from your left.
You looked towards the voice you heard and recognized on of Tom’s brothers. It was the one that had joined Tom and Harrison when you were attacked. “I’m sorry?”
The boy’s blue eyes were soft as he sighed. He didn’t look as intense as his voice sounded. A gentle smile danced on his lips. His eyes squinted in the sunlight and he sat down next to you. “Tom will kill you if he knows you’re here.”
Your cheeks burned and you avoided his gaze. He pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and offered you one. Despite never smoking in your life, you needed something to lower the stress that was slowly building in your stomach. Why would Tom kill you if he had brought you here? You grabbed a cigarette and let this boy light it for you. You took a deep drag from the cigarette and repressed the urge to start coughing. Your eyes blurred and your head lifted, slightly. It was a nice change from the painkillers that you welcomed. “He brought me here,” you whispered after taking a few more drags.
“I know, but you shouldn’t be here. You’ll end up hurt.”
“I’m sorry,” you spat as the heat was burning your cheeks and neck. “I don’t know who the fuck you are.”
“I’m Sam,” the boy chuckled, softly. “I’m Tom’s brother.”
“Okay, Sam, why can’t I be here? I’ve already been hurt by Tom so what would being here change?”
“They’ll find you and they’ll hurt you to get to Tom,” Sam spoke. He took a drag of his cigarette and shook his head. His gaze was focused on the path in front of the two of you. “They already got to some of us,” he whispered. He took another drag. “Tom’s a fucking idiot for letting you be here.” He flicked the rest of his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it. He stood up and looked back at you. You had already finished your cigarette and your body was craving a second, but you were trying to ignore it. Sam ran a hand through his darker hair with a deep sigh. “I don’t want to be a dick. I just don’t want you to end up like -“
“Sam,” Tom’s voice echoed through the garden. There was a sharpness to it that cut thought the peaceful air that you had been enjoying. You felt yourself flinch at the tone in Tom’s voice and the heat that was now burning at your cheeks and neck. Sam turned to face Tom with a look in his eyes that resembled a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. Tom was dressed in a blazer and a white t-shirt. His dark blue jeans sat comfortably on his hips. He looked good, you had to admit, but that didn’t change the things he had done to hurt you. Tom gave Sam a cold smile, continuing to avoid your stare. “How about you leave my soulmate alone?” The emphasis on you being his soulmate sent a shiver up your spine. Tom had said it with such conviction that you could almost ignore the things he’d ever said about you and pretend that he loved you.
“Okay, Tom,” Sam rasped as he walked away without giving you a second glance.
As soon as Sam left, Tom sat on the swing with you with a sigh. He shook his head as he placed a cigarette between his lips. He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking for a lighter. Once he found one, he lit his cigarette and took a deep inhale. He exhaled the smoke and looked up at the blue sky above you.
“Now you want to claim me? As if I’m something to claim?”
Tom shook his head, gently. “When mom died, everything got fucked up.” Tom’s head was resting on the back of the swing and you watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. Your eyes were burning and the weight in your chest deepened. “Dad taught us to never let our soulmates in. Never meet them, never talk to them. Not all of us followed that rule.” You felt as if a hand was wrapping itself around your throat and squeezing tighter the more Tom talked. “And that made things worse.” Tom lifted his head to look at you. His brown eyes were bloodshot as he looked from one of your eyes to the other with a sad smile. “You’re more than I’d ever deserve.”
You turned to face him, straight on. You rested your elbow on the swing and propped your head up to look at him. It was beginning to become overwhelming to discern your feelings for Tom’s, but you couldn’t mistake the grief that you both felt. “No,” you whispered with a soft shrug. “We’re meant to be together, Tom. Let me help you.”
“You first,” Tom hummed, with a soft chuckle. “I really do want what’s best for you and I’m so sorry that you’re stuck with me. We may not be a perfect match, but I want to help you.”
“So help me,” you murmured, letting your body give in to his sad, brown eyes. You let your heart get what it wanted as you placed your vulnerability right in Tom’s hand. You held his gaze as Tom tried to gauge if you were serious or not. “Let’s help each other.”
Hi friends! Sorry for the delay in posting the next part of time of dreaming. I’m pretty busy with school, work, and family life, currently. I’m also struggling with this part because I have an idea with what I want to happen next, but i’m struggling to get there as this chapter is setting up the future, if that makes sense.
In the meantime, send me some asks and let me know your thoughts, predictions, hopes, and critiques of the story so far! :)
Hi friends! Sorry for the delay in posting the next part of time of dreaming. I’m pretty busy with school, work, and family life, currently. I’m also struggling with this part because I have an idea with what I want to happen next, but i’m struggling to get there as this chapter is setting up the future, if that makes sense.
In the meantime, send me some asks and let me know your thoughts, predictions, hopes, and critiques of the story so far! :)
My biggest pet peeve is being talked to AS SOON as i wake up.
I hate that shit.
Stop tryin to communicate with me.
Stop askin me questions.
Im tryna understand the universe all over again dont talk to me yet ur gonna confuse me and piss me off.
Summary: Soulmates meet in their dreams from the age of 16 until they meet for the first time. Once they meet, they share their physical and emotional feelings with one another until they die. Tom Holland was just starting to learn how to take over the family business and ignore the urge to find his soulmate when everything changes and he’s found face to face with you. You’ve always wanted to meet your soulmate and spend the rest of your life with them until you actually meet yours and life changes forever.
Warnings: Drug use, swearing, alcohol, angst, mentions of scars/injury (not self harm)
part three: coping mechanisms
A few days after your last interaction with Tom and Harrison, you were discharged from the hospital. Jazmin had taken you home and spent the week after at your house, helping you. She didn’t ask for details about what happened, but word was quickly spreading that you were assaulted in a drug deal gone wrong. Wrong place, wrong time. And you didn’t have the heart to say otherwise.
After a week of time off, however, Jazmin had to go back to work, leaving you alone to take care of the hundreds of stitches you had that kept your chest closed. Your arm was still in a sling and wandering around the house was difficult. There was a constant dull ache in your stomach where Luke O’Malley had stabbed you. You didn’t know what happened to him and you had no idea what happened to Tom and Harrison, but you didn’t care. At least that’s what you told yourself.
Nothing was more heartbreaking, however, than to feel the hands of another woman on Tom, exploring his body and getting to know him. You’d wake up in the middle of the night, tasting cigarettes and whiskey while feeling the lips of someone on your skin. You’d try to block out the sensation of Tom sleeping with another girl, but nothing worked, not even you drinking.
Eventually, one night that Tom was getting frisky with another woman, you looked at the medication you were given to help ease the pain you were in. You took a deep, calming breath, determined to get this feeling out of your head. Without another thought, you popped two painkillers and laid down on your bed. A small smile lifted your cheeks as you could only focus on the comfort of the bed.
Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but in that moment, you were desperate to feel anything other than Tom fucking another woman. You nestled deeper into your bed while your body felt light and airy. You slowly closed your eyes and smiled. This was working. For once, you had a way to numb Tom’s feelings and the sensations he felt and for the next six hours, you’d finally pretend he wasn’t your soulmate.
*
Two weeks and some bad decisions later, you were out of pain killers and your body was screaming in pain. You groaned and crawled out of bed. The stitches had come out of your chest, but the mark was still there; angry and harsh against your soft skin. You had been kicked out of the internship program due to your incident and while the director denied it was because if that, you couldn’t hide the nagging reminder of the scar that somehow showed through any article of clothing you tried.
Tom’s feelings and sensations weren’t making things any better, either. If he wasn’t hooking up with random women, he was drinking whiskey at the worst time of day and smoking cigarettes like he would die without them. On days you tried to be productive, Tom would get into fights. His knuckles constantly ached as did his throat. Having him as your soulmate was insufferable and when you got a particularly bad cramp during your period, you couldn’t help the petty joy you felt, knowing he was also suffering.
You dragged yourself out of the house. The shirt you wore showed off the jagged edge of of the scar you had. The worst part of having the injuries you had wasn’t the pain, but the combination of a massive scar on your chest and the need to wear specific shirts to accommodate to the sling you had to wear. You sighed, trying to ignore the sense of dread seeing the injuries filled you with, but nothing worked.
You walked out of your dingy apartment and onto the streets of London. You were trying to find a way to get more pain killers, but the doctors had already refused your request. As much as you hated yourself for even entertaining the idea of illegally obtaining drugs, you couldn’t go another day with the feelings you had. Luckily for you, you lived in a sketchy part of town and happened to know where the drug deals went down.
Not even caring that your soulmate was a glorified drug dealer or that what you were about to do was definitely illegal, you approached the dealer who stood in the alley by your flat.
“Hey pretty thing,” the dealer spoke, gruffly. His face was ragged and covered with stubble. His blue eyes weren’t menacing like you always pictured a drug dealer to be. “Need something to help with that?” The dealer gestured to your injuries with a cigarette dancing between his finger tips. “Since you’re so pretty, I’ll give you a discount.”
How kind of him, you thought to yourself, sarcastically. You sighed and nodded, slowly. You ignored the spade shaped pin on his chest even though you knew it indicated who he belonged to - the Hollands. “How much?”
The dealer chuckled and told you his price. It wasn’t bad and you handed him the cash. With a sickeningly sweet smile, he handed you a bottle full of painkillers. “Don’t take them all at once, sweetheart.”
You ignored the smirk on his face as you turned and started walking away. Your heart was racing and your body was warm. You ignored every part of your instincts telling you to drop the painkillers and run, but you needed it. You tried to slow your breathing, knowing that Tom would be able to sense your anxiety. What did you care, though? He didn’t give two shits about you. He had made that perfectly clear.
*
Tom stood in his office talking with Harrison. It was the end of the day and they were waiting for the report on the sales his drug dealers had. It was a typical routine that happened almost every day. Tom filled two glasses with whiskey and grinned as he handed it to his best friend. Things were starting to look up.
Over the last three weeks since he had met his soulmate, he’d only felt the soreness in your shoulder along with a dull ache in his stomach. He shrugged off the pain, easily having worse injuries in his life. However, when your period came around, Tom struggled. While your cramps weren’t awful, Tom never had to get used to dealing with them and he simply found it way too uncomfortable.
As the days went on, Tom noticed you feeling more lightheaded and less pain came from your shoulder and stomach. Tom ignored it, assuming that you had finally healed up the wounds. He had tried to ignore any thoughts or emotions about you. It was too hard to think about the look on your face when he last saw you. Your eyes were wide with pain and a frown sat firmly on your lips. It was hard to process the fact that his soul was forever connected to another person and now he had a face to match with the sensation.
A swift knock sounded on Tom’s office door. Tom called for the person to enter and turned to see who it was. Jason, the drug dealer who was in charge of the southern part of the city, walked in. His blue eyes beamed and the stubble on his face added an extra disheveled look to the man. Tom greeted him and he nodded.
“How was the day? Did you make any sales?” Harrison asked, arms crossed. Harrison kept track of the finances in the mob. He knew that Tom was shit with numbers.
Jason chuckled and leaned back. “There was this one bird who came today. Poor thing,” he muttered with his thick cockney accent. He shook his head and lit up a cigarette. “Had her arm in a sling and a nasty scar.”
Harrison and Tom looked at each other. Without saying a word, they both were on the same page. “What arm was in a sling?”
“Where was the scar?” Harrison added, looking at Jason, intently.
Jason looked at the two of them for a brief second. Tom knew this sounded insane, but he didn’t care. Why would you be buying drugs? Jason took a deep drag off his cigarette and sighed, letting all the smoke blow out of him. “Her right arm was in the sling and the scar was right on her sternum. Looked like it went further, but the shirt covered it. What’s the big deal with her?”
Tom shook his head. “Jesus fuck,” he groaned. “Jason, if that woman buys from you ever again, call me as soon as she leaves. Got it?”
Jason furrowed his brows. “Can I ask why?”
Tom chuckled, but there was no humor in his laugh. He shook his head and threw his empty whiskey glass at the wall. It shattered right behind Jason, causing the drug dealer to jump to his feet. Most people had grown to fear Tom and despite his distaste for that power, he used it to his advantage more often than not. “No you fucking can’t,” Tom shouted. “Get the fuck out of my office.”
Jason walked out of the office without another word, leaving Tom and Harrison alone. Harrison looked at Tom in disbelief. Despite the two of them being best friends, Tom had grown distant from Harrison. “Tom,” he whispered. “What’s going on in your head?”
Tom shook his head, trying to ignore the massive amounts of guilt he was feeling. Most nights, before he went to sleep, he’d feel fear and anxiety build up in your bones. He felt you shake awake from nightmares in a cold terror. Tom could feel the ache still present in your body and worst of all, he could feel every time you took drugs. It just took you buying them illegally from one of his drug dealers to finally face the truth. Tom knew that this was a new behavior. In fact, he felt your anxiety earlier today, but assumed it was something normal, not a drug deal. The guilt was crawling into Tom’s lungs and nestling itself firmly on his chest. It was his fault that you were now breaking the law and abusing drugs. “It’s my fault,” he sighed.
“No, it’s not, Tom,” Harrison spoke, confidently. He took a step closer to Tom, but Tom shook his head.
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Harrison.” Tom looked at the open office doors and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and tried to think of his father. In moments like this, Tom could always count on his father to help him get his thoughts in order.
*
“I know you’re excited that you met your soulmate, Tom, but you cannot meet her. You know that you can’t, right?”
Tom took a bite of his cereal and nodded. Tom was getting better at focusing on the future of his mob rather than the vague-faced woman he saw in his dreams. “I know, dad.”
“Good,” he sighed. Tom’s father was always loving and encouraging to the boys, but when it came to soulmates, he wouldn’t budge. Tom knew that the distaste for soulmates was because of what happened with his mother, but Tom never dared to mention such a thing to his dad.
“Dad, what if I accidentally meet her?”
Tom avoided his dad’s cold stare from the other side of the table. It was a genuine question, on Tom’s part. He knew that meeting his soulmate wasn’t allowed, but what if she happened to be in the same store one day? Or what if she was a cop that he ran into one day? Tom’s dad finally sighed and shook his head. “Tom, you won’t meet her. And if you do, then you’ll start feeling her every thought, feeling, and emotion. That makes you weak, Tom. You can’t let yourself be weak. Not when you belong to this family and you have this job.”
Tom nodded at the bowl of cereal in front of him. His dad had been preparing him for the lifestyle that he was expected to continue, but Tom was still not ready to shut out normal emotions in the way that his father expected him to. Tom tried to ignore the nagging feeling he had in the back of his throat that meeting you in your dreams as frequently as he did was worse than actually meeting you. Tom had already grown attached to the way you laughed at his serious tone or the way you’d be able to tell when he didn’t want to talk about meaningless things. He was attached to the way you were so easily there for him, even when he was being a relentless asshole. Tom couldn’t help but feel like he was already breaking your heart despite only knowing each other for a few weeks. And even then, you didn’t even know what the other one looked like. Tom looked up at his dad who raised his eyebrows. Tom knew that his dad was expecting him to agree and to show submission to his father’s request. Tom sighed, ignoring the soul crushing guilt he felt when he slowly nodded at his father. “Okay, dad.”
*
You walked back to your flat and shut the door with a sigh. Your hands were shaking as you popped open the pill vile and took two pills. At this point, your body was so used to taking the pills that two weren’t enough for you, but you weren’t sure if there was a difference in illegal pain killers and legal pain killers. You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the overwhelming sense of guilt that you could feel coming from Tom. Your first instinct was to find him, hold him, and comfort him. After a few seconds you shook your head in disgust. If Tom gave a single shit about you, he’d come over every time you woke up with tears streaming down your face because of nightmares. If Tom cared about you, he would check up on you every time he felt you get high. If Tom cared, he wouldn’t sleep with random women nearly every day. If Tom didn’t care, why did you?
You ignored the ache in your heart that was now because of your own thoughts. Instead, you focused on the way your body felt lighter with each step you took. You focused on the soft fabric of your shirt and the way the rug under your feet felt. You sighed, drowsily, as the pain killers slowly took effect on your body. You flopped onto the couch and felt your body sink into the plush cushions. You turned on the TV, planning to watch some trashy reality while you enjoyed your high, but your phone ringing caught you off guard. The phone number wasn’t recognized, but you didn’t care enough to worry if it was something serious. You silenced the call without another thought.
The phone started ringing, again, however. You groaned and silenced it again, not wanting to talk to anyone. If it was that important, they could leave a message, you reasoned with yourself. The phone rang for a third time, and you felt anger prick at your cheeks and burn into your chest. You suddenly put the sensation with the incessant calling and realized that it was Tom calling you. Tom was calling you and you ignoring him was pissing him off. You smirked at this realization and chuckled. Before you could think of any reason why Tom would be calling you, you shut your phone off and turned the volume of the TV louder. You popped open the pill container you were given and took a third. With the smile still lazily spreading across your cheeks, you walked over to the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of wine. Without thinking, you guzzled the whole glass and poured another. “Fuck you, Tom Holland,” you muttered to yourself, as if toasting to this statement. You raised the glass to your lips and took another drink, already feeling sick.
Your stomach was flipping and lurching, but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the fact that you were feeling a cigarette burning your throat and the warmth of Tom’s anger. You were pleased with yourself for dragging these feelings out of Tom. It was high fucking time that he was suffering because of you just as much as you were because of him. You finished the second glass, forcing the alcohol to burn every inch of your throat and stomach. You knew you were going to be sick, but the thought of making Tom feel your suffering and pain was too glorifying for you. You filled a third glass and took a drink as you stumbled into the living room with drunken giggles. Maybe you didn’t care so much about the scar you now held forever, or the fact that your future was put on hold because of Tom. Maybe you could pretend for a small minute that everything was okay.
You flopped on the couch, spilling the wine on your shirt, but all you could do was giggle. You were growing more tired and sick, but you couldn’t let yourself be bothered. All you could do was chuckle, lazily. You forced your eyes to stay as open as they could, but the alcohol mixing with the pain killers was making you so incredibly drowsy. It didn’t matter, though. You could never sleep, lately.
The last few weeks, you would wake up in a cold sweat, thinking of the man who held you against him and slashed your chest open. You hadn’t slept a full night since the assault, but the drugs were helping. You smiled at the thought of being able to sleep for a few hours without seeing or hearing that man. Maybe one day, you’d sleep through the night without the help of drugs, but for now, you were medicating yourself. What else was there to do?
Before you could stand up to fill a fourth glass of wine, your apartment door busted open. Your reflexes were slowed and your logic was out the window. You stood up and wobbled back and forth, trying to balance yourself. Ignoring the smallest rational voice in the back of your brain telling you that it was Tom, you still walked towards the door. You stumbled and peered your head around the corner to see Tom and Harrison both standing there. Anger filled your bones as you looked at their dumb faces. You could see Tom wobbling slightly, but he wasn’t nearly as affected by you. You stumbled into their view and threw the wine glass at Tom as best as you could. It missed his head, narrowly, and shattered at his feet.
Tom whipped his head to glare at you. “What the fuck are you doing?”
You chuckled. “Fuck you, Tom Holland,” you slurred. A laugh erupted out of your diaphragm, even though you knew this situation was far from funny, but this was all you could bring yourself to do in this moment. You shrugged at the boy. His brown eyes were concerned and his eyebrows were knitted, but the drugs in your system blocked his feelings from you. Tom took a step closer to you and you flinched backwards, causing you to trip over the rug behind you. Your ass hit the ground with a pathetic thud and Tom walked over to you. He knelt beside you and helped you up. “Get the fuck off me,” you whimpered as tears slipped out of your eyes. An uncontrollable sadness was washing through your veins and you knew it was yours. It was the sadness over your lost career, your lost soulmate, and the weight of the trauma that you’d experienced in your life.
Tom helped you sit on the couch as he pursed his lips. You could see the fear and the guilt dancing along his eyebrows. He shook his head as he wiped a tear from your cheek. He pushed the hair off of your face and slowly rubbed your back. The last thing you wanted right now was to be comforted by Tom, but you couldn’t ignore the ache in your soul to just be with Tom. “Why are you doing this?”
You sniffled as the world kept shifting around you. The alcohol was fully hitting you and all you could do was accept it. “I can’t sleep; I can’t eat. I have nothing. All I can think of is…is…him,” you sputtered. “All I can think of is the fear and the smell of him. I can’t sleep without seeing him and I can’t eat without feeling the knife against my chest. I can’t function with you sleeping around with other women. I can’t escape this-this anger and sadness.” You wiped your eyes, roughly and shook your head. “You’re not here because you care. You’re here to make sure I don’t fuck with your mob or the cops.” Your lips curled in a sneer as you spit on the ground. The more you talked, the more saliva filled your mouth. Or maybe it was the tears that were now uncontrollably falling from your eyes that were filling your mouth. It didn’t matter to you, not right now. “I won’t fuck with anything. I’m just trying to keep my head above water.”
Tom’s heart was breaking at the sight of you. The scar was clearly visible and tears were freely falling down your cheeks, but you were still speaking your mind. He knew that the universe made you his soulmate because you weren’t afraid to speak your mind to him. “Love, let’s get you into some pj’s and get some rest, okay?”
“What’s the point,” you spat. “I don’t sleep anyway.”
“C’mon,” he ushered, softly. He helped you stand and walked you towards the bedroom. You didn’t fight him as he wrapped his arms around you waist and you certainly didn’t fight him when he held you close to his side. He helped you with every stumble and wobble, but his grip never wavered.
Once in your bedroom, Tom held you up as you grabbed some sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. He covered his eyes as you changed, but his hand was still softly at your side. Maybe it was the drugs or the alcohol that was lowering your ability to think clearly. Two hours ago, you would’ve punched Tom so hard in his face, but in this moment, as he took care of you, you couldn’t feel the anger anymore. You could feel his guilt and his sadness, but you didn’t feel angry anymore. His brown eyes were so concerned as he helped you lay on your bed. Without asking, he took off his heavy knit sweater and climbed into bed, next to you.
“I’m so mad at you,” you whimpered as tears fell out of your eyes. “I can’t fucking stand you.”
Tom could hear the weakness in your tone and knew that you were trying so hard to come off menacing. He couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle as he heard Harrison sweep up the broken glass and tidy up the flat. “I know, princess,” he whispered. “Let me try to help you sleep, okay? You need to sleep, love.” Your eyelids slipped shut as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be right here. I promise.”
You couldn’t fight it anymore. You let the wave of sleep wash over your exhausted body. Tom’s arms were tightly wrapped around you, filling you with a sense of security. You listened to his steady heartbeat and felt your soul rest, finally.
And for the first time in weeks, you finally slept through the night without any nightmares.
Summary: Soulmates meet in their dreams from the age of 16 until they meet for the first time. Once they meet, they share their physical and emotional feelings with one another until they die. Tom Holland was just starting to learn how to take over the family business and ignore the urge to find his soulmate when everything changes and he’s found face to face with you. You’ve always wanted to meet your soulmate and spend the rest of your life with them until you actually meet yours and life changes forever.
Warnings: Swearing, blood, hospital, mentions of grief/death, smoking, drinking
part two: negotiations
As the ambulance’s scream echoed closer to the parking lot they all sat in, Tom helplessly watched as Harrison was trying to stop the bleeding on the stranger that had gotten involved in an unnecessary conflict. Tom ran a hand through his messy hair as more tears burned the back of his throat. He took a deep breath and shook them away, knowing that he was now in charge of one of the biggest mobs in the United Kingdom. He couldn’t show weakness - not now, not ever again.
Tom looked down at the girl on Harrison’s lap. Her hair was long enough to be sticky with her own blood. Then again, almost all of the poor girl was covered in blood. When Tom shut his eyes, all he saw was the look on her face when Luke O’Malley grabbed her. Tom couldn’t shake the look she had when her chest was slashed open. Guilt burned at Tom’s eyes. When he started taking over the business, he was able to shut out the guilt, but he never got used to seeing innocent people getting hurt.
“Tom,” Harrison spoke. Tom blinked a few times, trying to ground himself in what was happening currently. It was getting harder and harder to focus on his feet on the ground. Maybe, he’d see his soulmate in his dream tonight. Sometimes, during especially hard days, he’d see the girl he was meant to spend forever with. During those dreams, he’d usually avoid speaking and let the vague-faced girl rush to tell him facts about her.
*
“It’s been a while,” you murmured.
Tom blinked and found himself in the familiar pink cloud. The air was warm and smelled of roses. He smiled, but he knew you couldn’t see his actual face, just like he couldn’t really see yours. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”
You chuckled. The laugh that danced out of your lips was airy and velvety. Tom ignored the warmth that spread across his cheeks. You sat down on the ground like you usually did. “I’m sorry, hun.” You didn’t say anything for a while. Neither of you did. It was the usual routine the two of you had developed. Both of you had began enjoying the presence of one another. “When can we meet?”
Tom almost didn’t hear you. He wish he hadn’t. Your voice was so timid and fragile that he knew you were upset over not being able to meet him. “I don’t know,” he lied. His heart constricted with guilt for a brief moment before he was able to ignore it. It was the safest option for both of you to never meet. At least that’s what he told himself.
“I don’t even know your name,” you muttered, harshly.
Tom nodded, knowing that it was true. Neither of you had shared your names, despite you asking him repeatedly to share his. Part of Tom was scared of the rejection that he faced if he told you his name. He was terrified of you being afraid of him for what his family was known for. Tom ignored this thought, however, and focused on the importance of not meeting. “I don’t know yours, either,” he whispered back.
You laughed, humorlessly. “I’ll tell you mine when you tell me yours.” Tom didn’t respond, but you weren’t surprised. He watched you shake your head and move to your feet. You stood up and pushed your hair away from your face. “Look, if you’re good enough at dream manipulation to mask your face and your voice, don’t even bother coming to see me anymore. I don’t know why I waste my time here. I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.”
Before Tom could say anything, you were gone from the dream. He groaned, running a hand through his hair. He knew he was hurting you by not giving any information about himself out, but he wanted to protect you. If he was being honest, though, he wanted to protect himself and his family more.
That was the last time he saw you in his dreams.
*
“Tom,” Harrison shouted, shaking Tom away from the memory of the last time he saw his soulmate. Tom looked down at Harrison, his best friend since his childhood. Harrison’s blue eyes were nervous, but Tom knew he was trying to hold it together for himself and his best friend. You were still passed out on his lap, but Harrison was now joined by Tom’s brother, Sam. Sam was joining Harrison’s attempt to stop the bleeding, but it looked more like they were playing in red paint. “She’s not going to make it.”
Sam shook his head. “She’s going to make it Harrison. Tom, help us stop the bleeding.”
Tom took as step closer to his family. Before he could get closer to you, Tom was hit with what felt like an invisible wall. All of the air in Tom’s lungs was pushed out of him as he felt a pressure against his right shoulder as well as his stomach. Tom shook his head, ignoring those feelings, knowing that he was in a fight earlier. Tom assumed the pain was a delayed reaction to the fight, now that the possibility of danger was gone. Tom walked closer to your limp body and tried gently shaking you awake. “You need to wake up, hon,” Tom spoke gently. “Come on, think of your family. Think of your soulmate.” Tom watched as your eyes danced under your eyelids. Your lips parted, slightly, but only a whimper fell between your lips. “Wake up.”
Harrison looked up at Tom. Tom’s brown eyes were vulnerable as he spoke to the lifeless body that Harrison was holding. Harrison wasn’t used to Tom showing the vulnerable side of him to anyone other than his family. Even then, the moments that Tom showed vulnerability were few and far between. Harrison knew that part of Tom’s reaction was due to his father’s very recent and very sudden death. Harrison looked back down at the lifeless body he was holding.
Before they could come up with a plan to tell the authorities, the ambulance screamed closer and the boys were roughly pushed away from you. Tom was growing frustrated with the amount of people rushing back and forth. All he wanted to do was go home, but he knew that he had to stay back and act as a witness.
While Tom stood back and watched the lifeless girl get CPR, he noticed a sinking feeling in his chest. He was struggling to catch his breath while he watched the paramedics work on the girl in front of him. “No,” he muttered, refusing to focus on the feelings he was getting. It was just the adrenaline leaving his body. It had to be.
“Excuse me, can I ask a few questions about what happened?”
Tom looked up at the officer in front of him. He nodded and sighed, totally used to working with officers in his line of work. “It was an O’Malley that did this,” he muttered.
The officer’s blue eyes widened while he studied Tom. The officer looked down at the pin that rested near Tom’s heart. Every member of the Holland Clan wore the same pin on their chest, showing their allegiance to the Mob. The officer slowly nodded, knowing what had happened. “Okay.” The officer walked away without another word.
Tom’s family paid off most of the officers in London to ensure their power over the city. Tom roughly ran a hand through his hair as he looked back to the paramedics. The sinking feeling suddenly went away as his heart skipped a beat. The world slowed around Tom as he felt as though there was two people breathing from his lungs. He struggled to control his own breathing and focus on his own body. “This can’t be fucking happening,” he moaned to himself, quietly.
Harrison walked over to Tom and clapped a hand to his shoulder. “C’mon, mate. She survived. Let’s go home.”
Tom nodded. “What if she tells them what happened? She doesn’t know what cops are on our payroll and what ones aren’t. What if she speaks to the wrong one?”
Harrison shook his head. “I don’t know, mate. All I know is it’s been a tough day for us. Let’s get home and rest.”
Tom shook his head. “No,” he growled. “I need an answer to this, now. She could wake up while we get some rest,” He mocked.
Harrison sighed and looked around at the scene that was playing out. The paramedics had lifted you onto a stretcher and put you in the ambulance. They were speaking to Sam and Harrison could only assume that they were telling Sam where they were taking you in an assumption that the Hollands actually cared about this random stranger. “We can tell her that we’ll take care of her bills until she can go back to work as long as she doesn’t say anything. It’s not like we can’t afford it.”
Tom nodded, not really paying attention to what was happening around him. His chest was hurting and his soul ached. Tom had no idea what was causing this pain, but he was pushing the feelings as far away from his mind as he could. “So we blackmail the girl after she’s assaulted because of us.”
“What the hell else are we going to do, Tom?”
Tom tried to ignore the anger he felt twisting its way into his stomach at the tone Harrison used towards him. “Fine. We’ll go to the hospital and talk to her once she wakes up.”
*
Your eyes were burning, but that didn’t compare to the ache you felt in your stomach. Your organs were hot and burned every time you took a breath. You slowly peeled your eyelids open as a soft whimper escaped your lips. Your lips were chapped, knuckles ached, and your right arm was in a sling. You blinked a few times, but nothing could erase the anger that was bubbling inside you. For a second, you tried to figure out what you were so mad about, but the more you focused on this feeling, the sooner you realized that it wasn’t your anger you felt. It was your soulmate’s.
Your heart skipped a beat at this thought. Maybe it was one of the paramedics that was your soulmate. Maybe he masked his identity because he was too busy with his job. You tried not to get your hopes up, but you knew you had met your soulmate in the last few hours. You blinked a few more times, trying to decipher what pain was yours and what was your soulmate’s, but it wasn’t working. You just grew more tired.
Before you could really acclimate to your surroundings, the door to your room busted open. Your heart raced as the memories of the four men you saw rushed back to your brain. What if it was the man who had hurt you? What if he was coming back to erase any witnesses? You shut your eyes as if that would convince the man not to hurt you again.
You flinched as a hand gently rested on your left forearm. “Hey, hey,” a soft voice cooed next to you. You recognized Harrison, the man who had been there when you fell. Your heart skipped a beat. Maybe this kind man was your soulmate. He had gone out of his way to save you and maybe he didn’t want to meet you because he was dealing with that man who had hurt you. “You can open your eyes, y/n. We won’t hurt you.”
As soon as Harrison said ‘we’, you felt your heart drop. You slowly opened your eyes and saw the brown-eyed man with his cold and calculating eyes. You remembered him being referred to as Tom, but that didn’t make him any less scary to you. You looked back at Harrison, who sat to your left. He had a soft smile on his face and he looked much nicer than the other boy in the room with you.
“We’re so sorry that this happened to you,” Harrison murmured. He looked at you with his blue eyes. They looked sad, but just as calculating as Tom’s. “But we need you to do something for us.”
“Excuse me,” You rasped. Your voice was much more accusatory than you meant, but how dare they ask for your help after what you had already been through? You didn’t even know how you could be of use to the two men in front of you. “No.”
“Jesus Christ,” Tom snapped. He rubbed his tired face, roughly. Suddenly, you felt your anger grow in the pit of your stomach. You looked at Tom for a little while longer. Your soul was screaming for you to move, but you stayed put in your bed. Your heart dropped further in your bones at the thought of this rough and cold man in front of you being your soulmate.
Harrison looked between the two of you for a brief second as if telling his friend to calm down. “Look, we’ll pay for any bills you have until you can go back to work. Whether that’s rent, utilities, or anything, but you have to swear to us that you won’t tell any cops what happened, okay?”
The anger in your stomach was growing. You couldn’t believe the audacity of the two men in front of you. “And what if I do?”
“Then we’ll fucking finish the job that O’Malley started,” Tom snapped. “It’s up to you, princess,” he mocked.
The heat of the anger that belonged to your soulmate shot through your insides. It mingled with the anger that belonged to you and your body. Your cheeks flushed at the thought of this man bringing you so much anger and affecting your emotions more than you realized. You were furious that the universe cursed you with this man in front of you that obviously didn’t give a fuck about you. You shook your head and stared as deep into the brown eyes in front of you as you could. You hoped he would read the anger and poison in your head as you opened your mouth. “Fucking do it then,” you hissed. “I’d rather die today than feel you for the rest of my life.”
Tom’s eyes widened and he visibly flinched. You knew that he was just as much in denial about you being his soulmate as you were, but you saying it out loud only confirmed his fear. You felt an ache in your chest that you quickly identified as hurt. Your words had hurt Tom, but you didn’t care. Not after the way he had been treating you. He took a step closer to you and in what felt like a second, he was right at your bedside. Before you could process what he was doing, he grabbed your right shoulder, right where the stitches ended. His grip wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t exactly gentle. You hid the pain from him, not wanting to give him any satisfaction. As Harrison let out a word of protest, Tom gave your stitches a squeeze, causing you to yelp in pain. At the same time, Tom’s hand dropped from your shoulder and immediately went to his right one. He took three steps back as if you had burned him. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he yelled as he turned away from you. You felt fear, anger, and hope all swirling in your blood. You couldn’t tell who’s feelings belonged to who, but it was overwhelming to say the least.
You shook your head as tears burned at the back of your eyes. All the years that you had envisioned what it would be like to meet your soulmate all to lead to this. Your hands were shaking as you wiped a stray tear away. You had always wanted to meet the person you would spend the rest of your life with, but the universe played this sick twisted joke on you and gave you Tom Holland, London’s most notorious gangster. “Fuck you,” you spat. “Get the fuck out of my room before I call the nurse.”
Harrison looked between the two of you as he stood up and walked over to Tom. “Come on,” he murmured. “Let me handle it.”
Tom whipped around and glared at Harrison. His brown eyes were wide with fury. You could feel his anger burning at the skin on your cheeks. It was becoming so overwhelming to feel his anger, but most importantly, his sadness. “You don’t understand what this means, Harrison,” he snapped. “I can’t deal with this. Not right now.”
Before either you or Harrison could respond, Tom turned on his heel and stormed out of your room. The door slammed behind him with such force that the air left your lungs. You looked down at the bed, trying to catch your breath, knowing that Tom was causing these feelings. You covered your face with your good hand and took a deep calming breath.
“I’m sorry, y/n. I promise he isn’t always like this,” Harrison spoke.
You shook your head, not wanting to believe any of this was happening. In all of the dreams you’d shared with Tom, he was never this angry or violent. However, in the dreams, Tom never shared much, anyway. When the two of you were together in your dream world, you were both quiet and got along just fine. On the days that he would actually talk with you, the both of you would spend as long as possible together, but on the days that he didn’t speak to you, you never stuck around. “You know,” you rasped, quietly. “I always adored the idea of having a soulmate to cherish me and love me through all of my fucked up days, but so far my soulmate has only hurt me more than I ever could.”
*
Tom fought the urge to punch the wall, knowing that his soulmate was already in enough pain. He shook his head, trying to get ahold of his temper, but nothing was working to calm him down. How could he have such fucked up luck that the first time he’d meet his soulmate was when he was blackmailing her? Better yet, how was his luck so messed up that the first time he saw his soulmate was when one of the members of the rival mob was slashing her chest open.
Tom flew down the stairs of the hospital and walked straight out of the building, not caring about who was seeing him. He couldn’t understand the way life worked for him. He could feel your sadness and your hurt, but his anger was drowning him more than anything else. He couldn’t stop the fire that was licking up his throat and begging to be let out. Tom climbed into his matte black Corvette and slammed the door shut. He slammed his fists on the steering wheel and yelled as loud as he could. He screamed until his throat was dry and his voice was hoarse. How was life so twisted that he was stuck with one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen, but a life so fucked up that he couldn’t let her in?
When Tom’s throat was burning, he stopped yelling. He didn’t realize that tears had been streaming down his face and that guilt, sadness, and agony where swallowing him up. He dropped his face in his hands as a loud sob erupted from his sternum. He knew his grief was mingling with your sadness, but it felt like he was drowning in a wave of tragedy. Here he was, grieving the loss of his father and he was lucky enough to meet his soulmate after she was forced into a traumatic experience and wanted nothing to do with him. All the years of dream manipulation training and Tom’s father had never taught him how to hide his emotions from his soulmate. Pathetic. Tom was pathetic and he knew it. He shook his head as the tears were slipping off his jaw and onto his shirt. “Fuck me.” He put the car in drive and drove home, trying to collect his thoughts the whole way.
*
“I won’t say anything to the cops,” you rasped. “I’ll tell them it was too traumatic to remember anything. That happens sometimes, y’know.”
Harrison looked at your watery eyes and the tremble in your bottom lip. You were focused on the blankets that covered your legs, but he could see the pain in your face. Harrison never thought that Tom would meet his soulmate, but he know that if Tom ever did, he’d royally fuck it up for himself. Harrison knew that Tom was never good with social interaction that didn’t involve violence or business, but that didn’t stop him from wanting the best for his best friend. “How do you know about trauma and memories?”
Harrison watched your shoulders slowly lift and drop. You winced at the movement and sighed. “I have a bachelors in Psychology. I intern at the psychiatric ward here.” Your eyes widened at the thought of your best friend working in the emergency room. “Fuck, do you know the nurses who worked on me?”
Harrison shook his head with a confused look on his face. “No. Why? Is everything okay?”
You sighed and looked for your phone. Harrison caught on and grabbed it from the nightstand just out of your reach. He handed it to you with a smile. You opened it and sent a quick text to Jazmin, letting her know you were awake and safe. You shut your phone off, not having any energy to talk with anyone for a while. You felt your fists ache as your throat became so dry that swallowing became painful. You shut your eyes, knowing that Tom was the cause of this pain. He was grieving, you could tell. Grief wasn’t a new emotion for you, but the sensation of feeling someone else was still strange. “What happened to Tom? Why is he grieving?”
Harrison looked down at the ground. He didn’t want to overshare, but the look on your face told him that you were drowning in Tom’s feelings. He struggled between loyalty to his best friend and leader and the hurt girl on the bed in front of him. “It’s not my place to talk about, but his dad died today. Right before he met you.”
You nodded, very slowly. This grief was strong and never-ending. You couldn’t stand the thought of seeing this man again, but you also didn’t want to let him suffer alone. “You should go help him. I’ll be fine and I won’t say anything to the cops.”
Harrison watched your face, trying to make sense of this situation. Harrison had to admit that it was royally fucked up. Tom’s soulmate was laid up in the hospital and at this moment, only him and Tom knew. You would be safe for now, but what happens when someone else found out and used you against Tom? Harrison took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay,” he murmured. He stood up and looked down at you. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Don’t bother,” you muttered.
Harrison tried to ignore the sadness in your voice as he walked out of your room and towards the exit of the hospital. Life was fucked up for the family. It always had been.
Once Harrison left the hospital room, you were completely alone. You were fine with that, however. The emptiness of the room gave you more opportunity to focus on who’s feelings belonged to who. The longer you sat there feeling empty and sad, the more you realized it was you, not Tom. You sighed and rested your head against the bed. You grabbed the TV remote next to you and turned it on. After a few seconds of watching TV, you felt your throat burn stronger than it had before. You coughed a few times, slowly becoming acquainted with the taste of cigarettes. You groaned. Of course Tom smoked. Not long after that, your face flushed and your throat burned stronger. Whiskey, you recognized, was now making its presence known on your tastebuds. Perfect.
Everything you’d hoped for in a soulmate was the complete opposite of Tom. You had hoped for a man who would sweep you off your feet. A man who would tell you how much you were worth to him, even on days that you bothered the living hell out of him. You hoped for a man that would wipe your tears away and hold you on the days that your sadness grew too heavy to hold. You hoped for a friend, a lover, and a soulmate. Instead, you got a cold, careless, and emotionless man who was less than enthused to have you as his soulmate for the rest of your life.
You eventually grew tired of the burning in your throat and paged a nurse. Once the nurse walked away, promising two large cups of water, you focused back on the TV. You would forget about Tom. You had to because there was no other solution to the pain you were feeling and the disappointment that was crushing your heart
Summary: Soulmates meet in their dreams from the age of 16 until they meet for the first time. Once they meet, they share their physical and emotional feelings with one another until they die. Tom Holland was just starting to learn how to take over the family business and ignore the urge to find his soulmate when everything changes and he’s found face to face with you. You’ve always wanted to meet your soulmate and spend the rest of your life with them, until you actually meet yours and life changes forever.
Warning: blood, language, violence, angst (this story is gonna be dark so prepare yourself)
part one: the encounter
Tom knew from a young age that his family’s business was dangerous. He knew that he needed to keep what his family did a secret because his family could get hurt if outsiders knew. His father engrained it into Tom’s head that the family business went ahead of everything ever since Tom was a kid. Tom vividly remembered the time he asked his father to come to Career Day at his school. Tom’s father had never hit Tom harder.
When Tom turned thirteen, his father began teaching him how to conceal his identity in dreams in preparation for meeting his soulmate. Tom knew never to argue with what his dad wanted and instead started to train with his father and experts in the field of dream manipulation. He learned from a young age that even though he wanted to meet the person he was destined to be with, he couldn’t, not unless he gave up his family’s business, but he wouldn’t turn his back on his family. It was all he had.
On Tom's sixteenth birthday, he prepared to see his soulmate. He tried to ignore the butterflies that he felt as he fell asleep, excited to see the person who he'd meet every night. Despite knowing that he could never be with his soulmate, he was still shamelessly excited for the possibility of having a friend in his dreams, no matter what he did when he was awake.
He didn't meet his soulmate that night.
In fact, Tom didn't meet his soulmate until a couple months after he turned eighteen. He figured it was due to an age difference, but he didn't care to focus on the why or the logic of dreams. All he could focus on was the excitement of meeting his soulmate even though he knew he shouldn’t feel anything.
"hello?"
Tom felt as though he was floating. He knew he was standing on the familiar pink floor he always stood on when he dreamt. His dreams were lonely, but tonight, he heard you for the first time. He knew that your voice wasn't distorted and he had to ignore the slight flutter he felt when he heard your timid voice. He focused all of his available energy into masking his voice. "Hi."
He turned around, looking for you. His dream world was always the same, but he never knew how to describe it other than being in a soft pink cloud. He stood on a flat pink surface and was surrounded by a warm pink haze. He turned, one more time, and stopped when he saw his soulmate standing in front of him.
He couldn't make out details, but he didn't care. He could see your hair cascading around your face and falling beautifully. The color of your hair was fluctuating and your face was foggy, but he could see your vague features shift into a smile. "I can't believe you're here," you whispered.
"Likewise," Tom spoke, but he didn't recognize his voice. He knew it was the voice you heard, yet it still sounded weird. He ignored the slight tinge of guilt that rang through his heart at the thought of disguising himself from you. He knew he had no choice, but it still hurt him.
"I've been waiting for this moment for years. What took you so long?"
Tom did his best to ignore the ding his heart echoed. He tried to ignore the sadness that ricocheted out of your vocal cords and into his heart. "I've been here."
A soft sigh escaped the vague lips Tom could see. "Me too."
Tom awoke the morning after first meeting you in the best mood he'd been in in what felt like years. He had to physically fight the urge he had to smile as he walked down the stairs for breakfast. He felt light, airy, and happy. Your voice was angelic and the conversation you had echoed around his heart for the rest of the day.
The two of you didn't always meet every night. Tom chalked it up to different sleep patterns or just not being able to remember every dream he had. He could tell that you wanted to meet him, but he kept brushing those hints off. Usually the two of you were only together enough to say a few sentences back and forth, but he cherished his time with you just the same.
It had successfully been almost six years since you first appeared in his dream without meeting you. Tom had officially decided that you didn't live in London. You couldn't have, he reasoned, but the nagging thought in the back of his head reminded him that your accent was exactly the same as his.
Tom eventually came clean to his family that you had met in his dreams. Tom's father was stressed, but Tom assured him that the pair would never meet, despite every part of Tom's body aching to touch you. Tom knew that his family and his business came first. It also wasn't a secret in the Holland Mansion that the reason why his father was so adamant against soulmates was because of the death of their mother, but no one talked about it.
No one talked about anything.
Tom was just starting to learn how to take over the business when everything changed. He was barely getting the hang of ignoring the pain of getting his ass beat. He was barely getting used to ignoring the guilt of killing enemies and breaking the law. He had just figured out how to ignore the thought of one day meeting you and had just stopped craving the small interactions he'd get with you every night.
But the universe was funny in that way.
"Tom," Harrison breathed, heavily. Tom looked up from the computer he was typing on and looked at his best friend. His blue eyes were burning into Tom's. "It's your dad."
Tom knew the tone was too distraught to be anything good. He knew Harrison wouldn’t barge into the study without reason. Tom ran his rough, calloused, and dry hand over his face with a sigh. He tried to prepare himself for the news he expected to get ever since he had started taking over the business. HIs body grew stiff and cold as he tried to prepare for what he knew was coming, but it wasn’t that easy. Life was never that easy.
“He’s dead.”
*
“I saw him again last night,” Jazmin hummed as she carefully stabbed the lettuce in her bowl. Her brown hair fell over her shoulders, despite her being on call for a shift at the emergency room, downstairs. Her brown eyes looked up to you as she smiled. Her eyes were always warm, but somehow always pierced through the defense layers you built. “Have you seen yours in a while?” She carefully raised one of her arched eyebrows as she waited for your response.
You rolled your eyes, not wanting to remember the fact that you hadn’t seen your soulmate in three weeks. “No,” you whispered. “I know he doesn’t want to meet me. Every time I ask for any information, he leaves.” You picked at the leftover pasta you brought for the impromptu date you and your best friend could fit in your busy schedules. The nagging voice in the back of your mind reminded you that not only did your soulmate refuse to give you information to find him, but he also was hiding his face and his voice from you. It wasn’t uncommon for soulmates to be able to hide parts of their identity, but it was difficult to master the ability to disguise both your face and your voice. When you noticed that your soulmate had disguised both features, you reciprocated by disguising your face to the best of your ability. You hadn’t told any of this to Jazmin, though, because you were embarrassed at the thought of your soulmate refusing to even show you his face or his voice.
“I know he wants to meet you, y/n. Why wouldn’t he? He’d be absolutely lucky to have you,” she spoke, matter-of-factly.
You shrugged. You had always loved the idea of having a soulmate and being meant to spend the rest of your life with someone. It was always a goal of yours to be able to meet your soulmate, but after the first few dreams with your soulmate, you could tell that this wasn’t his intention. The two of you rarely met and it was usually once a month that you would have an overlap in time and meet. “I don’t know, Jazmin. I just -“
Before you could finish, you were interrupted by the scream of an ambulance. You looked out the window you sat by and sighed. By the time you looked back at Jazmin, she was already getting called into her shift. The two of you had both started internships at the same hospital, but in different departments. You usually had a laidback schedule in the Psychiatric Ward, but Jazmin was always busy with her shifts in the Emergency Room.
“Sorry, y/n. I’ll see you later, okay?”
You nodded and began packing up your things. Your shift ended thirty minutes ago, but you stuck around to be able to spend time with your best friend. Once all of your belongings were stuffed into your purse, you stood up and began walking to your car.
Since you worked downtown, you almost always had to park a couple blocks away from the hospital. You usually welcomed the walk as it gave you time to prepare for your shift and decompress afterwards.
Tonight, the sun was setting over the horizon, painting the world a hazy pink. You smiled, softly, thinking of the dream world you always seemed to meet your soulmate in. Every place that soulmates met was unique to the couple. You were shocked when you met your soulmate in a beautiful, warm, pink world. Seeing the real world mimic your dreams caused a tug in your stomach.
As you entered the near-empty parking lot where your car sat, you noticed a tense exchange occurring. Three men stood, facing another man not too far away. You saw your car on the other side of the group of three and began making your way towards them. You pushed away any feelings of anxiety and tried to push forward to your car. It was a long enough day and it didn’t need to be longer.
“Tom, now is not the time or the place,” the man on the left spoke. He had piercing blue eyes, but you quickly looked away from the group and instead pretended to send a text.
“I don’t care,” the man named Tom snapped. You could hear the pain in his voice, causing your eyes to find him. You recognized the grief that screamed through his words. His large brown eyes were bloodshot and tears were stained on his cheeks. His hands were clenched into tight fists and you noticed the blood caked on his knuckles. Your heartbeat sped up as you slowly walked closer.
“What’s wrong, Tommy boy? You not ready for the crown? Pathetic,” an Irish accent mocked from behind you. You were close enough to the group to now be in the middle of the commotion. You tried to pick up your pace, not wanting to be in between this intense exchange.
“Shut the fuck up, Luke,” Tom growled as he took a step forward.
“What’re you going to do, Tommy boy? Shoot me? Try. I dare you,” Luke chuckled. Before you could register what was happening, rough hands gripped at your arms and you were pulled roughly against the Irish man, identified as Luke. Fear danced from the man’s fingers and up into your chest. Your heart pumped the fear through your veins and into your bloodstream. The man gripped you tighter as you felt a cold metal dance along your arm. You tried ignoring it, but the fear was bubbling up your throat and into all of your thoughts.
You closed your eyes, trying to think of the man you had met in your dreams. The man you were destined to spend the rest of your life with. The man that was your soulmate. “Let her go, Luke.” Your eyes opened and your gaze was locked with the man named Tom. His eyes were cold and calculated, but you noticed that him and his two friends took a step closer to you. Your heart was racing and you tried to say something, anything to get this man to let you go, but the fear swallowed any attempt to speak.
“Come and get her, Tom. Or are you going to let another poor innocent person die today?”
Before you could process what was said, a searing pain exploded from your chest. You looked down and saw a large and deep gash that started from the center of your chest and followed the line of your collar bone to your shoulder. Blood began pooling out of the wound as you cried out in pain. Your head began growing lighter as you shut your eyes in pain. You heard the men in front of you yell various threats and insults to the man who was holding you hostage. Your brain began to process that you were in a life-and-death situation. Without thinking, you threw your foot into the stranger’s knee and kicked as hard as you could. The man groaned as his grip loosened. You threw your elbow back into his stomach, causing his grip to completely disappear. You took a few steps away from him, but your brain was clouded with the pain of the massive gash on your chest. Blood was dripping down your arm and onto the cement, but you didn’t care. All you could think about was getting as far away from this man as fast as possible.
Despite moving as fast as you could, the man caught your right shoulder and yanked you back. You heard a pop as more pain erupted from the same shoulder he had cut. You knew it was dislocated, if not broken. Panicking at the thought of being killed, you started throwing your fists at this man, but your vision wasn’t focusing on anything as the blood was pouring out of you. You knew that it wouldn’t be long before you lost enough blood to be damaging. The man gave you sickening laugh as you felt his knife sink into your stomach. You screamed in pain, feeling his knife pierce through your skin and into your organs. You had enough training in the hospital to know that pulling the knife out would cause more damage, but your hand still groped the handle of his knife as you stumbled back. A warm feeling danced up your throat as you coughed blood on the cement.
You turned and stumbled further away from the group, but your feet were heavier than cinderblocks. You began to fall to the cement. Before your shoulders and head could hit the ground, you were caught. You looked up at the man who had stopped the impact and saw those blue eyes you had connected with earlier. You blinked a few times, growing tired and pained. “Hey, hey, look at me,” the man whispered. “It’s okay, you’re safe. Just focus on me and nothing else, okay?”
You opened your mouth to speak, but you were instead interrupted with another cough. You knew it was blood so you turned your head and spit onto the cement. Sure enough, a dark sticky substance hit the ground next to your head. You looked back at the man in front of you. Your head was spinning and you were struggling to ground yourself in reality. You lifted your hand and put it on the man’s cheek. You noticed the blood that covered your hand and your arm. You gasped at the sight and dropped your hand to your side. The man chuckled, but the sight wasn’t comforting since you had covered half his face in your blood. “It’s okay, hon. I’m Harrison, what’s your name?”
“Y/n,” you croaked. Speaking hurt, breathing hurt, everything hurt. Your eyelids slipped shut and you heard the man above you asking you to open your eyes. You forced your eyelids apart and looked back into his piercing blue eyes. “So hard. So sleepy.”
“I know, y/n, help is on the way, okay?”
You looked up at Harrison’s blue eyes and felt safe. You nodded, slowly. “I never met my soulmate,” you murmured. “I don’t want to die.”
“You won’t,” Harrison spoke with a smile. “We won’t let you.”
You slowly nodded. Before you could respond, the man referred to as Tom sat down next to you and Harrison. “EMT’s are about a minute out. Luke’s taken care of.” Tom’s voice was beautiful and strong as he spoke to Harrison. He looked at you with his bloodshot and pained eyes. “You’ll be okay.”
You sighed and slowly gave up on the fight to stay awake as your eyelids slipped shut. Maybe you would meet your soulmate. Maybe you wouldn’t.
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