The Web to My Heart (Tom Holland x Spiderman)

Chapter 1

Tom Holland walked out of the set after a long day and sighed. Everyday was nothing but a bore, as everyday was the same as it was always. There was no happiness to this life of his, but the thrill of action kept him going. It was raining that day, and he hadn't brought an umbrella with him, but the passing fangirls who fawned over him had all given their umbrellas to him anyway. It was tiring, having to be the center of so many people's lives, to be lewded in other people's minds, but yet, this was the price to fame and the price to success in the spotlight of Hollywood.

For years he'd been part of the Marvel franchise, for years he'd been playing the role of Peter Parker, but yet, it felt empty to him. Life was nothing more than a bullet that shot through the air for just a second, then stops forever. It was so short and yet, was this what he wanted to do?

He stood on the door mat, staring at the door and the windows by its side. Inside, he could hear the television running and he could hear the sounds of the kettle whistling, but he felt no sort of urge to hurry inside. The lights were inside, glowing onto the front lawn where children's toys were strewn about as he twisted the ring on his left hand around in its place.

Was this what he wanted?

He opened the front door, entering to hear the kettle die down. He walked through the hallway towards the kitchen, but something caught his eye that sat towards the top of the stairs. Johnson was staring at his tablet, the bright light glowing on his face. He looked from it, towards Tom.

"Johnson, what're you playing?" He smiled, stepping up the staircase, his hand brushing over the woodentop of the railing. Johnson's blue eyes ran from his dad to the tablet again. He was quiet, but a small mumble escaped his lips.

"I'm reading." It was too tense. It was so quiet, dead silent, except for the sound of the pantry door opening in the background. Johnson sunk into the step, his eyes fixated on the tablet.

"Reading what?"

"The Rat in the Mat."

"Can I read it with you?" Tom beamed at his son, but as he came up the steps towards him, he was stopped midway by a voice that called out his name. Another figure, a curvy and slim one, stood in the hallway, just before the kitchen door.

There stood Sienna, with her once long blonde hair cut short to her chin. It was a sleek bob, shining under the flurenosense of the chandelier above, though it was most likely iron pressed just hours before. She was silent, without any sort of delight in her eyes to see that her husband had come home after a long trip abroad. Her blue eyes, once bright and vivid, though not pure, were now dull. Her body was still slim and curved, but her hips were wider than they used to be, the after effects of birth still lingering on her. Her blouse wasn't tight around her chest, but it fit nicely around her bust. Her skirt was down to her knees, straight and black, leaving no flexibility. She tried to pull her lipstick coated lips into a smile, although it was still lacking any sort of warmth.

"Welcome home, Tommy." He backed down the steps to stand before her. It was awkward, on both parts, seeing as he'd been gone for so long with few words to her. He pulled her into a sudden hug, holding her tightly as if he was apologizing, though he said nothing to her. Her arms stood numbly at her sides, not recuperating his actions as he pulled away.

"Johnson, dinner's ready." Johnson watched as they left together towards the kitchen, though they never touched each other, even slightly, afterwards. No holding hands or touching their shoulder, it was formal, even though they'd been married so long. He was solemn, slowly rising from his seat on the staircase as he headed towards where they pushed past the double doors in the kitchen towards the dining hall. He sat between them, Sienna across at the end, opposite to Tom. They were so far apart, and so silent at the table, only the sound of silverware scraping against the plates echoing in the large hall.

"Johnson, how was school?" Tom asked, his voice coming out so suddenly earning a small jump from the boy.

"It's good."

"And, how do you want to spend spring break? We could go somewhere, right Sienna?" He looked across at her. She hadn't touched her food at all. She was staring at it, staring at it as if she were waiting for some kind of response that never came. It was so quiet, but Johnson slightly parted his lips to speak.

"Mom?" She snapped out of her daze. Her hand, resting on the smooth mahogany, jumped, nearly knocking over her glass of water, though she quickly caught it, though water spilled over the edge onto the floor, though it wasn't intended. She looked to Johnson, though her eyes flashing caution before she turned away, smiling towards Tom.

"Uh, yes, wherever you want to go, John." She wasn't talking to him. She was looking right at Tom, slightly shaking her head as if she was hearing something else. She slowly collected her cool, taking a deep breathe as she sipped on her water.

"Sienna, are you feeling okay?" Tom stopped eating, putting his fork down.

"Yes, I'm just a little overwhelmed with work is all."

"Mom, are you sure you feel okay?" Both looked towards their son. He was so tired of it all. Of the fact his parents never talked, neither to each other or to him, and that they never seemed to love each other or him. As if they were in their own worlds, where he didn't exist and they didn't acknowledge each other at all. They were silent at the moment, before Johnson broke the empty silence.

"Why don't you two love each other?"

"W-What? Johnson-" Sienna began, her mouth hanging open, but she soon fell silent.

"I'm going to my room." Johnson stood in his seat, pushing it back into place as he left his two parents to sit there alone. They look at each other, staring at their eyes each with their own found sadness hidden behind. Sienna was unable to speak, thinning her lips into a straight line, unable to find the words to say. Tom stood in his seat after turning his eyes away from hers.

He found himself walking away from the broken world of the house and down the street, following under the glow of the streetlights. He stared at the sky above. It was painted a dark blue, although no stars were lighting the sky besides the large red moon that waded overhead. He waited by the corner of the block, unsure whether to head back to his house for another lifetime of silence or to keep going. Although, with no other options left, he headed back, but as he crossed the street, he heard the sound of tires screeching ringing in his ears. As he turned, the last thing he saw were headlights.