#her hair gets slightly longer when she joins the Ada

[softboiled-egg]

Fem dazai for the win!!!!!

[anonymousewrites]

There's a Will; There's a Way (Book 4) Chapter Eleven

Dazai Osamu x Fem! Reader

Chapter Eleven: Conflict in the Sky

Summary: The Huntings Dogs fight the ADA, and the ADA fights the pawns of the Decay of the Angel.

Mouse Note: This will be the end of my reposting for now. If you want to continue with this story, it is linked on my masterlist, so feel free to check it out! I will continue reposting chapters once the next season comes out. :)

            (Y/N) held her hand up. The bullets speeding towards her stopped. Demon Snow disarmed them. When some stumbled up and came at her, (Y/N) kicked them into each other. They tumbled to the ground, and Atsushi knocked them out. He suddenly went on alert and looked at (Y/N), alarmed.

            “(Y/N)! I hear combat!” he cried while dodging a bullet.

            “The Hunting Dogs,” exclaimed (Y/N), twisting a guard’s arm behind his back. She launched him into his group with a thrust of her hand. “Damn, way faster than expected. At the speed they’re going, they’ll get to the comms room soon.” We need to join that battle soon so the plan can continue. Even if there’s a distraction, they��ll get there first. “Kyouka, get the wall!”

            The young girl nodded. “Demon Snow!” she called.

            Her ability drew its katana and sliced into the wall. Sunlight streamed and in through the hole, and wind kicked up dust.

            “Atsushi, you can climb down with your claws,” said (Y/N).

            “What about you?” asked Atsushi.

            “It’ll take me a little longer to climb since I need to pull out the metal plating for handholds and footholds,” said (Y/N). “But I’ll be down soon. Kyouka…”

            “I’ll handle things here,” said Kyouka, nodding in understanding.

            “Take care of yourself, alright?” (Y/N) looked seriously at the younger girl.

            Kyouka nodded and turned to continue the fight. Atsushi began his descent quickly. (Y/N) flicked her wrist, and the edges of the ship’s panels curled outwards. With great care, she stepped down. It was nerve-racking to know that with a single step, she could freefall to her death. The window whipped around her, lashing her hair and clothing around her. Nevertheless, she continued on. Atsushi was slightly below her. Both were heading towards to the hole obviously created by the explosive fight in the comms room. Two people were grappling for power in the hole. One with long hair was kicked out but grabbed ahold of the other. They toppled backwards into the open air.

            “Atsushi!” shouted (Y/N).

            He knew exactly what she was thinking and launched himself downwards. He grabbed Sigma, for that was undoubtedly who it was. The two continued falling towards a large generator. (Y/N) held out a hand and clenched her fingers. Sigma and Atsushi froze and glowed emerald. Lowering her arm, (Y/N) let the pair land on the generator before releasing them and following them down.

            “Watch out, you two,” she said as she arrived. “This power supply casing is the only thing keeping us from falling to our deaths. There’s nothing beneath us.”

            “You’re…from the Agency.” Sigma looked at them, confused. “Why did you help me?”

            “To save the Agency,” said (Y/N). “To do that, we need the page, and you know where it is.”

            “…Even if I do, you think I’m going to tell you?” remarked Sigma.

            “Yes,” said (Y/N) plainly.

            She motioned to Atsushi, who brought out his phone. A videocall with Ango was on the screen.

            “If I use my skill, I can read your memory of the Page from you,” said Ango.

            “Sorry, but I have measures against your skill,” said Sigma.

            “That’s fine. I’ll just use an older method, then.” Ango laced his fingers. “It’s called ‘inflicting pain until you feel like talking.’ Because I have no interest in going easy on the man who stabbed Chief Taneda.”

            (Y/N) furrowed her brow. She wanted the information to save the Agency and was willing to do anything. However, her heart still didn’t let her enjoy the idea of causing another pain. It never did. But it was necessary, just like it had been so many times before. I need to save the people, the man, I love.

            “…I didn’t mean to,” said Sigma quietly. “It was just a threat.” He looked down at his feet, seeming to feel genuine shame. “Honestly, I envy those eyes of yours.” Whether he spoke to one person or the group, the words were profound. “I doubt I’ll ever feel anything with eyes so strong again.” He looked up to the sky, his eyes weary. “Ask whatever you want. I’m exhausted. In the end…I never did understand what I was born for.”

            Silence.

            No one could understand what he meant, but that didn’t take away its importance. Sigma was lost. He had no idea who he was, his purpose, anything. He was utterly lost.

            “Atsushi, (Y/N),” said Ango, breaking the quiet. “Your final mission is to bring Sigma back down to the surface.”

            “All right,” said Atsushi.

            “Got it,” said (Y/N). She glanced up, observing the path back up to the airship on top. Her eyes widened.

            Hawthorne floated above them with a blank but crazed look in his eyes.

            “No…! Not right now…Dostoevsky!” breathed (Y/N). There was no doubt in her mind that Fyodor was behind this. He had a superior intellect like Dazai. He understood what would happen down to the tiny detail of them ending up on the generator.

            “Look out!” alerted Ango. “He wants to kill you to save Sigma!”

            Hawthorne shaped his hand into a gun, and blood spun at its tip. Atsushi held up his hands as a shield; green sparks prepared to protect (Y/N).

            “Guilty,” said Hawthorne in a dark tone.

            Quick as lightning, blood flashed towards the group. It nearly pierced them, but emerald light captured it. (Y/N) had, with one lifted finger, kept everyone from death. Atsushi blinked in awe. He hadn’t even seen the blood moving through the air. (Y/N) herself was surprised. She had moved on pure instinct. In all gifted, there was a sort of separateness between them and their abilities. During Mukurotoride, that fact had been proven. Gifts had some sort of consciousness separate from their wielders, which explained why they might activate themselves in high-stress environments. However, for a single moment, (Y/N) had felt a wonderfully odd togetherness with her ability. She and her gift had been completely one and the same. It was similar to her rage against Shibusawa while in his dragon form. During that instance, she had been linked through anger with her gift. This time, she just felt united. Peaceful, calm. No need for extreme emotion. Just (Y/N) existing.

            She blinked and looked to Atsushi and Sigma. “Are you alright?”

            “Y-Yes,” stammered Sigma.

            “Yeah,” said Atsushi.

            “Watch out,” warned Ango. “He’s preparing again.”

            Hawthorne raised hundreds of blood bullets again and sent them flying. (Y/N) raised her hand again, but the blood began to curve around them erratically. They circled the group until flying inwards. (Y/N) could only stop those she could see. Atsushi turned and brought up his hands to protect himself. They expected the blood to piece them. Instead…Sigma gasped as the bullet punctured his chest from the back.

            They went for Sigma, not us! thought (Y/N), eyes widening.

            Sigma stumbled forward and fell off the generator. Atsushi jumped out after him. Seizing the dual-haired man, the weretiger twisted to grab a metal pipe but missed. (Y/N) through herself to her stomach and leaned over the edge. She reached out her hands and grabbed ahold of Atsushi and Sigma with her ability.

            “Hold on!” called (Y/N), curling her fingers and leaning up.

            It was harder to carry them back up than it was to lower them down. She managed to toss Atsushi up first since he was smaller and lighter.

            “Sigma, your next!”

            She was about to throw him, but Hawthorne sent more blood bullets down. Atsushi took some with her healing ability, but (Y/N) had to throw up a hand to protect herself. Frustrated, she thrust her hand towards Hawthorne. He was sent flying backwards. Reaching down again, (Y/N) pulled Sigma up far enough that she could grab his wrist. She was putting all her strength into saving him. Hawthorne flew back and attacked. (Y/N) was hit in the back and began to fall over the edge, but Atsushi held onto her and the generator. She couldn’t use her ability, however, to save them since her hands were occupied with Sigma and Atsushi.

            “Atone for your sins,” said Hawthorne.

            She cried out as a bullet pierced her arm but fought through the pain. (Y/N) held Sigma’s wrist tightly, but it slipped from her grasp. Quickly, she held his hand instead, but even that was starting to fail as the injury in her arm screamed in aggravation.

            “Hold on! I’m going to get us up!” cried Atsushi, straining his muscles already.

            Hawthorne shot his arm. (Y/N) and Sigma were sent falling down, but in a state of adrenaline, she pulled out a pipe so she could hold on. She cried out as her arm nearly popped out of its socket (luckily, it didn’t).

            “It’s fine…” breathed Sigma wearily. He could tell she was struggling. “I knew it’d wind up like this.”

            “Stop saying that!” growled (Y/N), panting.

            “Let go. You will die, too,” said Sigma, hanging his head. He had no will to continue fighting.

            “I’m not just letting you die!” She glared down at him. “I can’t let someone die like that, having no idea who they are! Having no purpose!”

            “…You’re a kind person. You care for others will all your heart,” murmured Sigma. “But it’s fine.”

            (Y/N) jolted as a sudden flood of knowledge flickered through her mind. It was almost too much to comprehend.

            “As an ordinary man, I did what I could.”

            Sigma let go. (Y/N) reached out in a desperate attempt to catch him with her ability, but her bleeding arm refused to lift.

            Damn it, damn it, damn it, no! Her arm screamed at her to stop. She tensed her fingers and saw Sigma slow for a moment. She could feel the pull of gravity on him, trying to drag him to Earth. With her wounded arm, it was getting difficult to exert more power. Nonetheless, (Y/N) continued. There’s a Will; There’s a Way. There’s a Will; There’s a Way. There’s a Will; There’s a Way. There’s a Will; There’s a Way. There’s a Will; There’s a Way. Slowly but surely, Sigma began lifted up again as (Y/N) curled her fingers. Come on, come on, co— Her other hand was shot with blood, and she dropped. The shock disrupted her gift as she looked to where her hand slipped from the pipe. Sigma fell to his death while (Y/N) faced a similar fate.

            “(Y/N)!” cried Atsushi.

            He leapt into action and let himself fall towards her. While his hands held onto hers tightly, his tail wrapped around the pipe to hold them up. It was a precarious situation, but they were alive. Sigma…was gone. Atsushi looked around for a way back up and saw Lucy running on a walkway above.

            “Lucy!” he shouted. “Look down! Right now!”

            She looked over and gasped. “Throw a rope or something I can grab!”

            “We don’t have anything!” called (Y/N).

            Lucy looked around wildly. As she did, Hawthorne floated closer, intending to make aim even easier. He raised his hand and—Someone crashed into him. Pushing off his chest with their feet, they ended up back on the generator.

            “And for my final trick, I shall save all your asses!” declared Akira with a theatrical flourish of her arms.

            I was right. She turned up in the nick of time to save us.

            Akira grabbed Atsushi’s tail and pulled him and (Y/N) up. As Hawthorne fired at them, (Y/N) put up a trembling, blood-soaked hand and stopped them.

            “Pinky! Might want to help out now!” called Akira.

            Lucy took a step back. “If I fall, pick up my bones!” She jumped over the railing. She reached out her hand. “Atsushi!”

            Her ability activated right before she hit the generator, and they transported into Anne’s Room.

            “Woo! I have so much adrenaline right now! I fell four stories!” Akira swept the debris off her tattered gown.

            “I’m surprised you didn’t kill him,” remarked (Y/N).

            “I didn’t think you’d approve, said Akira.

            “Thank you,” said Atsushi to Akira and Lucy.

            “Down!” cried (Y/N), noticing something.

            She knocked Lucy to the side and stopped the blood bullet from hitting her. Hawthorne had been brought into Anne’s Room as well. (Y/N) could see a string of blood tied to Atsushi, which was how the former Guild member followed them.

            “Crap!” cried Atsushi, tensing.

            “Son of a bitch, just die!” groaned Akira.

            “No. It’s over,” said Lucy. She narrowed her eyes.

            Anne grabbed Hawthorne from behind.

            “Welcome to my kingdom,” said Lucy.

            Hawthorne attacked Anne, but it did nothing.

            “It’s pointless! Nobody can harm Anne inside of this room!”

            Anne dragged Hawthorne into the other chamber where he won’t escape from.

            “We…did it? We did it!” Lucy grinned. “We finally got him! We won!”

            “No, we lost,” said Ango, still on the videocall. “We lost because you let Sigma die.”

    ��       (Y/N), Lucy, and Atsushi looked down.

            “Now we have no leads to the Page,” said Ango, “And…the Hunting Dogs saw us trying to rescue him. In their eyes, that likely looked like the Detective Agency helping their terrorist allies. Our plan failed…and we’ve only sewn more doubt. This is likely exactly as Dostoevsky planned.”

            “Whatever the Decay of the Angel did with the page…they’ve made sure people won’t believe us.” Akira crossed her arms. “I spoke to Tachihara briefly. Even when he believed us a tiny amount, it was overcome by the conviction of our guilt.”

            (Y/N) frowned and looked down. Tachihara was the spy in the Port Mafia. He’d be the most likely to believe, but even he…The Page is truly powerful to change someone’s way of thinking. It’s a miracle Fyodor didn’t use it to change mine. Either he doesn’t want to because then he wouldn’t posses “me” as myself, or it didn’t work in the story that must be told in the Book. Either way…the damage was done to the rest of the world.

            “Frankly, I can’t stop shaking,” said Ango. “Until now, he moved none of his pawns and gave us no room to deal with him. But at the very end, with just a shot of blood, he took away all our gains. Not even Dazai could picture such a miniscule yet enormous scheme. It’s our utter defeat.”

            A heavy, depressed silence descended.

l

            Dazai’s eyes widened. “You changed them not to trust the Agency’s innocent…?!”

            Fyodor smirked. “Yes. All the world’s police and investigative agencies will not act on any evidence someone framed the Agency. Such is written on the Page.”

            “Therefore, trying to ally with the Hunting Dogs was an impossible fantasy from the start,” said Dazai. He grinned and started laughing hysterically.

            Fyodor blinked in surprise.

            “Siding with God sure didn’t teach you much!” laughed Dazai.

            “…” The Russian narrowed his eyes. “Let’s hear it.”

            A cruel smirk spread across Dazai’s face. “ ‘Perfection and harmony?’ To God, those amount to a hill of beans. I saw it many times. All He offers is happenstance and absurdity. A weakness…shared by the two of us. For all our ingenious plans, in the end we’ve wound up here in a deep-level prison.” He touched the ground to demonstrate it. “What’s driving the world are those in the storm of accidental events who scream, run, and spill blood. Faced with their souls and their wills, you and I should be petrified with fear.”

            “ ‘Accidental events?’ ” Fyodor scoffed. “You and I anticipate events that come from so-called ‘random’ decisions. I knew everything that would happen at the Sky Casino.”

            Dazai laughed. “You really believe that!”

            “Do you think I have reason not to?” questioned Fyodor imperiously.

            Dazai shrugged. “I mean sure, everything you believe happened probably did, but did you learn anything from our previous discussions?”

            “Ah.” Fyodor leaned back and smirked. “You believe my angel changed the course somewhat?”

            “You can’t anticipate her choices. You don’t know her. You think of her superficially, as a pure angel.” Dazai smirked. “That’s not who she is, no matter how good and kind she is. And because she’s not what you think, you’ll never really understand her decisions. Eventually, all her little choices will add up.”

            “My angel is powerful, but she can’t stop this plan.”

            “Are you paying attention?! She doesn’t have to, not alone. (Y/N) is strong herself, but she can also bring strength to others. She can inspire them to be different. And that means they’ll keep fighting. They’ll surprise you. Or they’ll overpower you. In the end, it’ll be the same. You’ll lose.” Dazai grinned. “You understand people as logical pieces you can direct. They aren’t that boring. They’re sinful and foolish, yes, but also so much more. You don’t understand the true complexity of people. That’s why people will surprise and beat you.”

            “They can certainly try, but it would take a miracle to get anyone on the Agency’s side now. The Agency is alone. Even if they surprise me, can they take on the whole world and win?”

            Dazai smirked. “Even if it was the whole world…yes. But it won’t be.”

l

            Tachihara stood in the hall on the call with Teruko as he thought back to his discussion with Hirotsu and Gin.

            “The Armed Detective Agency could never be terrorists. Tachihara. If you’re a Mafia member, that’s a given, right?”

            “They’re innocent. Coming from me, that should count for something. You should really start to think more critically about this whole situation. You seem mildly intelligent.”

            Who am I? thought Tachihara. How do I really want to live?

            The phone clattered to the floor as Teruko called out to her associate.

            Yes, the answer is as clear as day…

            Alarmed, Tachihara looked around himself wildly. From far away, a piece of paper tore slightly.

            “What the hell are we doing?!” he cried. “There’s no way the Agency is a terror group! The government has the wrong people! I need to persuade them!”

l

            The bleak, gloomy silence was pressing down around the people in Anne’s Room. Kyouka and Ango had been retrieved, but the increase in numbers didn’t add to any belief in victory. None of them could muster fighting spirit. They felt hopeless after Ango said this was their utter defeat. (Y/N) furrowed her brow. Something was trying to get to the surface of her memory. She couldn’t quite grasp it.

            “You can do it. Just focus.”

            (Y/N) blinked. Dazai’s voice was conjured to her mind again. What’s more…she could remember. “No.”

            The others looked at (Y/N).

            “This isn’t our defeat. This isn’t the end.”

            “But we lost Sigma, and our lead to the Page.”

            (Y/N) smiled. “No, we didn’t.”

            “What do you mean?”

[theshelbyclan]

Welcome to the chaos, little one

Summary: Giving birth is never easy, especially when it’s a Shelby x Solomons baby…

A/N I’m so slow with requests but a while back the lovely @fandom-puff​requested: Omg sorry to be a pain but I’m a sucker for Shelby chaos 😭😭😭 can I request something linked to A Very Shelby Christmas where the labour of baby Solomons is just as chaotic? But it could also be sweet like the bros finally accepting Alfie bc they all care about YN so much and can’t stand to hear her in pain, all while YN is screaming that she’ll cut off more of Alfie’s dick than his rabbi would even dare to if he ever tried to bed her again 😭😭😭 omg the chaos 👉👈 ily 💓💓 Here we go! This is part 2 to the story A Very Shelby Christmas

Words: 1638

***

“Not now, Y/N,” Arthur groaned. Ada rolled her eyes, remembering keenly when her brother had spoken those iconic words before. “It’s not like I can help it, Arthur,” you spit. 

Polly grabbed you by your arm as you doubled over again, “Alright, sweetheart, it’s time. Come with me…” “Not yet, Aunt Pol,” you panted, “It’s too early.” “The baby doesn’t have it’s own pocket watch yet,” Ada commented matter-of-factly, as she took your other arm. “Fuck!” you called out again as another contraction set in, “Fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck!” “Nice.” “Oh, piss off John, you want to try this?” “Not really…” “Tommy!” you turned to the one family member who hadn’t said a word yet, “Get him.” “And who would that be, eh?” he replied in a low voice. “Thomas…” Aunt Polly warned softly. He raised his eyebrows, “Finn? You want Finn at the birth?” “WHY WOULD I WANT MY FUCKING BABY BROTHER HERE?!” Tommy waved a vague hand, “General comfort?” Now Aunt Polly’s eyes flashed with anger, “Thomas! Go get her husband, right now!” Tommy sighed deeply, still trying to ignore the fact that his little sister was now Mrs. Solomons, and said, “Come on boys, let’s get them all together and wet this baby’s head! Leave the women to it.” And you groaned, “Thank you…” Once Alfie would be here, everything would be easier.

*** “Solomons!” “No need to shout, mate, I’m right here, ain’t I?”

Slowly Tommy lit a cigarette and started smoking it, “It concerns my sister.” “You mean the glorious creature that made me the luckiest man on earth by marrying me? My wife? Mrs. Alfie Solomons?” A small twinkle appeared in Alfie’s eyes as he saw Tommy’s jaw tense up just a little at his words. “Yes.” “How is the old lady doing?” Alfie asked conversationally. “In pain,” Tommy replied, “She’s in labour, more to the point.” “You fucking what?” “She’s with her aunt Alfie, she’ll be fine.” Alfie blinked a few times, “Tommy I swear to God if you’re playing some fucking game with me I will shoot you between the eyes right here and now. You’re telling me my wife is in labour and you’re standing there casually smoking a cigarette, waiting for some fucking woman to tell you it’s done?” “Yes,” he nodded, “Well, I was about to go the Garrison. Thought we might bury the hatchet and you could join us.” “Have you lost your fucking mind…” Alfie said slowly, while rubbing his chin. Tommy cleared is throat and with a slight hint of uncertainty in his voice said, “It’s tradition.” “Well, if you’ll pardon my French, fuck your fucking heathen traditions, I’m going to my fucking wife and you are fucking coming with me. And bring your fucking family while you’re at it!”

*** “Why are we here?” John leaned in to Arthur slightly while asking the question in a hushed voice. “Alfie insisted.” “Why?” Arthur raised his voice, “Ask Tommy, alright? I don’t bloody know! I’m guessing it’s another Jewish thing…” On the other side of the door, you were most definitely in labour now. The pain was worse than anything you’d experienced before and you were seriously questioning your sanity at this point. “Aunt Pol?” Ada asked carefully after about an hour. Polly moved over from your side down to your legs and said, “What is it?” “Something’s wrong.” “THOMAS!” Polly bellowed as soon as she had taken a look, “Get me some more towels.”

“What’s happening?” A panicked Alfie asked from the hallway. But Polly pushed him aside and started ordering Finn to boil more water. “Woman!” he demanded, “You fucking tell me.” “She’s bleeding,” she answered quickly, “and I can’t see why.” “What can we do, Pol,” Arthur asked, wild-eyed. “Get a doctor. One we can trust.” Arthur dragged John with him, even before Polly had finished her sentence. “What about Sabini’s men?” John asked, “We were supposed to deal with them tonight. What if they come here?” “Shoot them,” Tommy said simply, as he lit another cigarette in a nervous manner. Inside the room, you were now screaming your head off. Of course you had realised giving birth would be painful, but not like this. The sight of Ada going slightly pale didn’t help either and panic had started mixing in with the general anxiety of the process, so your screams got louder and louder. “Pol…” Ada called out again, “What do I do?” In that moment, Alfie pushed passed her and fell down by your side, “I’m here,” he said softly. “I can see that,” you panted between shouts, “but why? You’re not supposed to be here.” “Out,” Aunt Polly said strictly, “This is no place for men.” And then Tommy walked in as well, averting his eyes and grabbing your hand at the same time. “What?” he said when Polly send him a death-glare, “If Alfie gets to stay, so can I!” “Fucking children…” “Alright, sweetheart,” Polly focused on you again, “This baby needs to come now.” Your eyes grew wide, “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” Alfie replied for her, “You’ll be fine. You’re doing brilliant, babes.” “How the fuck would you know!” you shouted out. He shrugged, “Educated guess?” “Had a lot of experience with this, eh?” Tommy grumbled sarcastically. “This,” Ada pointed at the both of them, “This is why men shouldn’t be in here.” “I’m not fucking going anywhere, especially if my wife is in danger.” Tommy just shook his head in reply. “Danger?” you asked suddenly, “What does he mean in danger?” “No danger, love,” Ada soothed you, “if you just push.” And so you pushed, with every bit of strength you had in you. But then a gunshot sounded outside, followed rapidly by another two. Everyone looked up. “John,” Tommy clarified with a single word. “You’re being awfully cavalier about baby brother John getting shot there, Tommy…” Alfie commented. Tommy looked at Alfie with a frown that spoke volumes, “John just shot Sabini’s men. I told him to.” “Oh, good. Saves me the bloody trip.” “I can see some hair!” Ada called out suddenly. “What colour?” Alfie replied at once. And John stuck his head around the corner of the door, “Took care of them.” “We heard,” Aunt Polly grumbled. He hopped from one foot onto the other uncertainly, “Anything else I can do?” “Yeah, you can fuck off mate!” “Alright, I’ll stay, since you asked so nicely.” “John, just get the fuck out!” your sister shouted. The birth was chaos enough as it was and now all these boys were only adding to it instead of helping. And on top of it all, Finn stumbled in practically falling over his own feet with a bucket of water, splashing Aunt Polly in the process. This was more like a madhouse than a family occasion. But John pointed at Alfie indignantly, “He gets to stay!” “Push, Y/N,” Polly urged again, and so you did. “Nice one,” John laughed at Finn, “you literally had one job, mate.” “Mrs. Gray?” Alfie asked carefully, “Sorry to interrupt you there, alright, but I just wanted to quickly check, because you mentioned the hair, yeah? What colour? Because I’m sure I’ll love my son all the same if he’s blond, but I might just need to mentally prepare myself…” And then you finally burst out in anger, “Can you all just shut the fuck up for a second! I’m actually trying to have a fucking baby here!!” “Right, sorry about that love,” Alfie moved closer to you and grabbed your hand again, “Please continue. You’re doing brilliantly, even if he is blond…” Tommy chuckled lightly in the background, which made you even more angry somehow, “Alfie, I swear to God or Adonai or whatever you want to call him, do nottouch me again because remember how you said you couldn’t remember your circumcision?”

“Yes,” Alfie mumbled in mortal fear.

“You will remember when I do it. Remember how you told me of your rabbi doing it when boys are eight days old, because then it heals faster?”

“Yes...” he gulped.

“I’ll make it slow sweetheart. Really fucking slow.”  

“Right,” he said with big eyes, “What exactly would you have me do then except for just standing here like some great big bloody useless piece of shit?”  

“Shut up!”  

“Noted.” *** You weren’t sure what had happened exactly in that last hour. Apparently you’d lost a lot of blood and things had gotten hazy very quickly. Ada and Aunt Polly had stopped talking altogether and they had managed to save you, despite the bickering men in the background. You did remember that Alfie and Arthur had gotten into a fight at one point, but apparently they managed to resolve it quickly when the doctor arrived and they took turns in beating him up because he was no longer needed. Anger really does bring people together.

Of course, none of that really mattered now, because you were now holding a perfect baby right there, in your arms. Finn just stared at the baby, completely in awe. “Not blond…” John sounded a little disappointed. Arthur grinned, “But bloody perfect.” “Gorgeous, just like the mother,” Polly hugged you carefully. “Shelby good looks.” Tommy nodded slowly, with a sense of pride in his voice. “Any names yet?” Ada asked, “I bet you’ve picked them out ages ago, haven’t you?” “I have,” you smiled, “but couldn’t say them out loud yet, so we didn’t really discuss it. It’s bad luck.”

Uncharacteristically, Alfie hadn’t said a word yet.

“Mr. Solomons?” you said, gazing up from your one love to the other, “I believe you have a daughter.” And finally he smiled, deeply and incredibly in love as he held her tight with both hands. And in the most tender way possible he looked at you, grinned and said, “Fucking hell!”

***

Masterlist

[starlessskies94]

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC

Note: Hope you enjoy the chapter; please leave a comment and let me know what you think <3 

Chapter Eight

It all started with a note. 

The next they were hightailing across the damn state, all the way back to where their deep dark mess of secrets and lies had started. There was no time to stop and question why Ellie had gone back; there was no need. They already knew. The poor girl was simply looking for answers that everyone else had refused to give her. 

The closer they got; the worse their fear became. The dread pulling tighter up the throat like a noose around the neck. It was like riding towards their own execution for the terrible crime they’d committed, of robbing the whole world of something they didn’t believe they even deserved. Because they didn’t. Not at the expense of Ellie’s life. 

Even now after everything; Joel and Adaline would always agree on that. 

When they finally made it to the outskirts of the hospital; Ellie was sitting alone. The pair barely bother to halt their horses before dismounting and rushing to their daughter’s side. Joel quickly pulling her into a hug. 

“The hell were you thinkin’? Joel uttered. Taking the words right out of Ada’s mouth as she moved to join the two. “Running off in the middle of the night like that…you talk to us.” He continued. “You don’t just leave a goddamn note-“ He didn’t get to finish as Ellie pushed him away.

And Ada knew this was it. Their time had run out and now there was no going back. 

The teenager paced on unsteady feet; her hands fidgeting with her jacket sleeves before finally getting too frustrated and just pushing them back up passed her elbows. It was a common habit Ellie had picked up as she’d gotten older; they’d both noticed. Whenever Ellie was stressed, uncomfortable, nervous or upset; she would fidget with her hands. Whether it was pulling on jacket sleeves, picking at her nails or just absentmindedly running her fingertips across the now hidden bite mark on her arm. Just as Joel did with his watch. It was always fascinating to Ada how much Ellie could be like Joel without even realising it. 

Over the years; the girl had picked up a lot of the man’s mannerisms. Like father, like daughter she supposed. Unfortunately that also meant she had Joel’s temper. And it was certainly a force to be reckoned with. 

The girl continued pacing, almost not daring to look back at her parents. Her mind racing a mile a minute as she contemplated what to say. How to string her words together. The endless list of questions that plagued her for years. 

‘What happened to the Fireflies?’

‘Why had Ada and Joel lied about it for so long?’

‘Was Marlene dead?’ Ellie had a bad feeling she already knew the answer to that one; it had always been an assumption she sort of accepted, considering how loyal the leader had been to her cause. If she had threatened the young girl in any way in order to get her cure; Ellie knew for a fact her mom wouldn’t hesitate to cut her down. Or maybe Joel had killed her; it didn’t really matter now. The Fireflies were gone and so was their precious cure. 

She just needed to know why. Looking back at the rotting ruins of the Hospital; Ellie finally settled on her words before turning to face her family. 

“Tell me...what happened here.” She started with a shaken breath. Resisting the urge to pull her sleeves again as hands began to tremble once more. “If you lie to me one more time, I’m gone. You will never see me again.” She took a breath and it caught in her throat. The air thick and tense, Joel and Ada staring blankly at her with sad eyes.

“But if you tell me the truth, I’ll go back to Jackson.” She promised. “No matter what it is.” It was at that point as her parents shared a look; that Ellie realised she had no idea just what she was promising. 

Her mother took a reluctant step towards her and Ellie had to stop herself from flinching.  

“I...uh…” Ada stuttered, clearing her throat several times before trying to speak again. 

“Mom...just say it.” 

The older woman glanced back at Joel as he nodded woefully. Ada turned back to her daughter; her brown eyes welling with tears. 

“Making a vaccine...would have killed you. So we stopped them.” She said, gesturing to herself and Joel. The older man dropping his eyes to the floor as the shame flooded his face. 

Ellie’s blood ran cold. She gasped out a strangled sob that burst from her throat as it burned. She felt sick. Her chest tight and heavy. The weight pushing down so deep she couldn’t breath. How dare they?

HOW FUCKING DARE THEY?! 

Taking such a choice away from her! Taking away the chance for her immunity to mean something. To make the losses mean something. Her pain mean something. But they had decided to take her away from all that and it wasn’t fair that she’d had no say in any of it. 

She collapsed letting herself sit atop an old box, old equipment the Fireflies had left behind maybe? She didn’t fucking care anymore. She pulled at the front of her shirt in a feeble attempt to give herself room to breathe. But her chest continued to tighten. Her airway closing around the lump forming in her now dry throat. Her eyes streamed with tears, blurring her vision.  

“Oh my god…” She choked. Her hand clutching her chest as her breath became quick and short. Her stomach churned; hands and feet turning cold and numb. 

“Ellie...sweetheart…” The voice was echoed and distant. But she flinched when her mom reached out to console her. Her whole body snapping to her feet as she pulled away. Her hand lashing out to shove her back.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” She snapped. Ada's lower jaw quivered as she held back her own tears. The hurt was plain and raw in her eyes looking back to Ellie. “I’ll go back, but you and me...we’re done!” She screamed, her eyes narrowing at both Joel and Ada. Ada gasped a sob of her own as she took a cautious step towards her daughter but Ellie was already backing away. “Ellie...please.” She pleaded. “Just let us explain.” The teen scoffed bitterly; she wasn’t interested in anything they had to say. Her nostrils flared in anger, her lip snarled as she shook her head in defiance. 

“I don’t fucking care! I hate-” 

“Hey! Stop! That’s enough!” Ellie's eyes darted to Joel raising his voice as he moved to stand beside his wife, his arms wrapping around her shoulders. Pulling her close as she buried her face into his side. 

“Don’t do that. You wanna hate someone for this? You hate me, okay?” He clarified and somehow the audacity of Joel only made her angrier. “Don’t put this on your mother. It ain’t her fault.” 

Again Ellie scoffed bitterly. How dare he tell her how to feel. Who to blame. They were both at fault for this. She’d trusted them and this was what they’d done?! How could she ever see them in the same way again. “Are you fucking kidding me Joel?!” 

The man sighed heavily, Ada wiping away her stray tears as she looked back at her daughter with bloodshot eyes. Joel was quiet for a second, his eyes flitting back between Ada and Ellie before he finally spoke. “I pulled the trigger, not your mom. You wanna blame anyone then you blame me. Please don’t punish her.” He uttered pathetically. His whole body seemed to sag with sadness and Ellie felt sick the longer she looked at him, she didn’t even bother dignifying his plea with an answer as she shoved passed him and headed back towards Shimmer. Not even bothering to spare them a glance as she mounted and forcefully spurred the horse into a canter and rode away back towards Jackson without another word. 

Ada and Joel watched her go. Both feeling defeated and tired.

The Texan glanced back to his wife when she slid her hand into his and squeezed gently. “You didn’t have to do that.” She whispered. “I wished you hadn’t.” Joel felt his heart ache at the broken look on her face. Her nose and eyes rubbed red from her tears, Her face slightly puffed from the lack of sleep they’d lost from riding through the night to find Ellie. He softly kissed her forehead before dropping his gaze to meet hers. 

“If she has to lose one of us...I’d rather it was me.” He said. “She needs her mother if she’s gonna get through this.” Ada sighed, collapsing against his chest as her exhaustion caught up with her. “She needs you too.” She muffled into his jacket. “We both do.” 

He ran a hand through her hair as he hugged her close. In that moment it hit him just how grateful he was for this woman in his arms. He often thought about his life before Ellie and Adaline and he didn’t like it. There had been no way of knowing how things were going to play out the way they had when they’d met in Boston, but Joel knew without a doubt he wouldn’t have changed a thing. This was a life he’d happily choose over and over. At the beginning after losing Sarah, Joel had given up on the idea of family and love. After losing her, there was no getting it back. But then they’d come barrelling into his life...literally. Ada, eager to protect the young fourteen year old from the strange man forcing his way through the door, with Ellie in toe ready to strike with her pocket knife to protect her then mother figure from harm. If anyone had told him he would then go on to marry this woman, he’d have called them insane. Now he couldn’t imagine life without her. He didn’t think he could live without her. He didn’t want to. 

He squeezed her tight as her own arms found their way around his waist squeezing back in return. 

“Don't worry about me; I ain’t going anywhere darlin’.” He looked down kissing her then let his hands run the length of her arms, taking her hands in his, walking her towards the grazing horses. “Come on, let's head home.” 

Ada didn’t reply as she followed, the two quickly climbing back on and turning towards the same path Ellie had taken. Their horses breaking into a gentle trot. They rode in silence, both afraid of the fall out that awaited them when they returned to Jackson. Tommy and Maria would want to know what happened. If they hadn’t already noticed they were gone, Joel wasn’t looking forward to that conversation. He figured Tommy would understand but he was pretty certain, he hadn’t told Maria the whole story yet. He stole a glance back towards Ada as she rode beside him. But she just looked utterly broken. Her eyes set dead ahead of them, hands gripping her reins like a vice and legs rigid from the panic she’d woken up to in the night; when they'd found Ellie had disappeared. Joel looked back at the path before them. It would be a long ride back to Jackson. He just hoped and prayed that given some time and space...maybe...hopefully; Ellie would eventually understand why they’d done what they had done. And if he was lucky she might even forgive him for it. 

[teamhappyme]

peonies

pairing: sonny carisi x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none

a/n: happy valentine’s day my friends!!! here is a cute lil Carisi fic that made me feel a lil less blah today. i love and appreciate you all so so much!

****

“Liv, I’m gonna bring these witness statements to Carisi before I head out. You need me to drop off anything else?”

“Nope, just those statements for him. And thank you for dropping them off, y/n. I can get home and spend some of the day with Noah.” You saw her put the chocolate heart in her bag, along with the dog stuffed animal she picked up from a vendor earlier today. 

“He’s gonna love that dog.” You commented, and she looked up and smiled. 

“I hope so. And hopefully it will put off the argument for getting a real dog a little longer.”

You laughed, knowing how much every little kid wants a dog. But stuffed animals were always a good second. 

The two of you walked out of the precinct together, both surprised that you were getting out of here while the sun was still out. 

“Tell Noah I said Happy Valentine’s Day. I owe him and the Rollins girls an ice cream date.”

She smiled. “I will. Have a good night, y/n.” 

The walk to the courthouse was cold, and you passed by at least a dozen vendors with Valentine’s day themed food and goodies. You made it almost the whole walk without caving and buying something for yourself, but the cute little puppy on the styrofoam hot chocolate cup was calling your name. 

And of course you bought one for Carisi too.

You made your way through the maze that is the DA’s office, finally making your way into Carisi’s small office. But the ADA in question was nowhere to be found.

You placed the hot chocolate on his desk, smiling as you saw drawings from Jesse and Billie taped to the file cabinet, Jesse’s little ‘Uncle Sonny’ handwriting too cute to handle. He’d only been moved into the office for a few weeks, and it looked like he was finally settled in. You heard the horror stories of having to move out the copy machines, but it all seemed worth it.

He had his degrees hanging on the wall, along with a quote from the declaration of independence, because this man lived and breathed the law. 

You turned to walk back to the chairs, when a picture frame on his desk caught your eye. You’d seen the one of his beautiful goddaughter’s Billie and Jesse, and knew there were a few of the giant Carisi clan scattered around. 

But this one was in a clean black frame, and you had to do a double take to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. 

It was you in the picture frame. 

Actually, it was you and Sonny in the frame, laughing uncontrollably with disco lights in the background. 

You recognized the venue immediately, it was the indoor roller rink from Noah’s fifth birthday party. You hadn’t gone roller skating since you were a kid, and you were extremely apprehensive to get back on the skates. But Sonny convinced you to try again, sticking to your side the entire time.

The picture in question was after you had slipped. You were preparing to meet the floor in a painful thud, instead you felt two arms wrap around you, keeping you close and still on two feet. It was Sonny. 

You didn’t know this picture even existed, otherwise you would’ve gotten your hands on it pretty quick. You couldn’t help the smile spread across your face knowing that Sonny wanted it on his desk, to see your laughing faces everyday.

“Hey.” Your eyes snapped up to the doorway, Sonny standing there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. 

“Hey.” You stepped out from behind his desk, pulling the file he needed out of your backpack. “Um, I brought the witness statements for the Carson case. There’s quite a few here, so hopefully you can get some of them to testify.”

He took the file from your hands, placing it on his desk. “Thanks, I’m getting ready to prep with Hannah, so this will be helpful.”

“Good, that’s good.” You said while running a shaky hand through your hair. 

You know he must have seen you looking at the picture of the two of you, and now you didn’t know what to say. He was carrying a bouquet of beautiful flowers on Valentine’s day; clearly he had some plans tonight.

“Those flowers are beautiful, you have a lucky Valentine tonight?” You asked, attempting to break the awkward silence between you. 

He smiled, his turn now to run a hand through his quaffed hair. “They’re for you, actually.”

Your eyes widened, not expecting that to be his response. 

“Liv texted me, gave me a warning that you were headed over. I would’ve been here when you got here, but I know you don’t like roses, and it took me four different shops to find pink and white peonies. Thought I was gonna have to fight the guy next to me for ‘em, but he grabbed the tulips instead.” 

He extended the bouquet to you, and gently took the flowers into your own hands. You can’t believe he remembered your favorite flower. When did you even let that comment about roses slip out? 

“Sonny, you didn’t have to get me flowers.” You commented, but couldn’t resist sticking your nose in to smell the fresh flowers.

He smiled, glad that you liked the flowers, while shrugging off his overcoat. “I wanted to. You’re working on Valentine’s day, just wanted to do something special for you.”

“Well this is definitely more than special. No one’s ever bought me a bouquet of my favorite flowers before. Not even someone who has a picture of me on their desk.”

You saw his cheeks turn red before he dipped his head toward the floor. “I figured you saw that.”

You placed the flowers down next to your bag, joining him behind his desk. You grabbed the picture as he finally brought his head up to look at you, a smile still resting on your face. 

“I really like this picture. I’m just mad that you kept it to yourself, I would’ve loved to have a copy for my own desk.” 

“I think I could get you a copy. But you’ll have to thank Dodds for the photography skills.” Of course it was Mike Dodds that withheld the image from you. 

“I’ll be sure to send him a text.” You said and placed the image back on his desk. You just now noticed the files piling up on his desk, and spared a glance at your watch; it was only five oclock. He had a long night ahead of him. “Well, I won’t stand in the way of you and your important ADA work.”

“Y/n/n,” He grabbed your hand as you took a step away from him, and you turned to look back at him. “The files can wait ‘til tomorrow. Would you like to go to dinner with me tonight?”

You smiled. “Would I like to go to dinner with the only man who’s ever remembered my favorite flower?” He laughed as you gave his hand a squeeze. “I would love to, Sonny.”

You gathered your belongings, making sure there was enough room for you to carry the flowers in your hand. The two of you walked out of the courthouse together, the sun setting over one hogan place as you exited. 

You were halfway down the steps when he stopped, reaching into his pocket to grab his phone. He started rambling about how it would be impossible to find a restaurant on Valentine’s day, how he was an awful planner, and now you’d have to wait in the cold for hours. 

But all you could focus on was the way the sun was hitting him, covering him in an orange glow, his hair slightly fussed by the new york city breeze. He was beautiful, and you couldn’t let him stand there without letting him know.

He continued to ramble as you took a step toward him, complaining that you were going to end up eating hot dogs from a vendor.

“Dominick,” you said, and the sound of his real name leaving your lips got him to shut up. 

You reached up, running a hand through his fussed hair in an attempt to straighten it out. Once you were satisfied with the outcome, you rested a hand on his chest, as his free hand found your waist. He smiled before leaning down, your lips meeting his in an incredibly sweet first kiss. 

You pulled away after a few seconds, not wanting to cause a scene on the courthouse steps, and matched the smile that was still on his face.

“How do you feel about pizza for dinner?” He asked, his hand finding your own, linking your fingers together as you resumed walking down the steps. He gave your hand a squeeze, and you couldn’t help but look up and smile at him.

“Pizza and peonies, what more could a girl ask for?”

****

[torialeysha]

Cold feet - Part. 17

A tailored twist.

Song: Royal Blood - Out of the black

The house was more like a mansion. A lone, vast, Victorian structure that was nestled perfectly by the sea. It’s white painted facade blended seamlessly in to the clouds that decorated the pale blue sky above. The tidy surrounding grounds stretching for miles, and rooted right in front, next to the gravelly driveway was an evergreen, spirally branched monkey puzzle tree. It was nothing less than celestial. A piece of heaven that you could call home.

It was the first morning you hadn’t suffered from sickness and apart from the exhaustion you felt from exploring and getting acquainted with your new house, you felt a lot brighter than you had done in weeks. A brightness which was soon to be disturbed by your anxious thoughts worrying about what was transpiring back in London; What was Charles thinking now you hadn’t returned? Would he have gone to your mothers thinking you was there? You hoped not. Your mother was innocent, you didn’t want her getting dragged into all this.

You tensed when a strong set of arms circled your waist then relaxed instantly when you felt Alfie’s beard tickle your neck as he planted a kiss there.

“Have you managed to get hold of him yet?” You asked him about Tommy.

“Na.” He sighed into your hair. “What about Ada?”

“I tried the hotel but they said she checked out yesterday.” You replied. Disappointed you hadn’t been able to get in touch but grateful that she was away from this spiralling mess.

“Try not to worry, pet. We’ll sort it.”

You nodded faintly, unable to share or find comfort in his resolute optimism. You leaned back into him and pulled his arms tighter around you as if the security of his burly prison would grant you the extra reassurance you needed.

“Shall we go for a walk on the beach?” You suggested a suitable, much desired distraction.

“I can’t today, Yahalom... I’ve gotta pop back to London.” He explained almost casually.

“What?” You choked, turning in his arms to check the seriousness of his excuse.

“I’ve some loose ends I need to tie up and I’ve gotta pick up Cyril as wel-“

“Can’t you get someone else to do all that for you?” You interrupted sharply.

“There’s things that need my personal attention. Signatures and suc-“

“-Then I’m coming back with you.” You told him before he could once again finish.

“No, you’re not.” He scoffed.

“I need to go back!” You insisted sternly. “I need to collect some things. I’m going to need more clothes.”

“I brought all the clothes you left at mine. They’re in the wardrobe. Anything else you need I’ll buy for you.”

“You can’t stop me from coming with you.”

“Wanna bet?” He challenged.

“You’re going to do something stupid, aren’t you? That’s why you don’t want me tagging along. You’re going back there to try and handle this yourself.” You surmised with an increasing dread tightening your insides.

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous!” He huffed. “I’ve got unfinished business back there thanks to our sudden and fortuitous get away yesterday. So I need to go back and sort ‘em out today. And you coming with me means I ain’t gonna be able to deal with anything because I’ll be too busy worrying about what you’re getting up to.” He stipulated brusquely.

“Oh don’t give me that, Alf. You could still worry about me down here on my own. I Could fall and hit my head. Anything could happen.”

“I’ve thought of that.” He agreed with a nod. “That’s why I’ve arranged for Ishmael and Daniel to come down and keep an eye on you while I’m gone.”

“Babysitters?”

“Peace of mind, pet.” He corrected.

“What about my peace of mind?” You demanded. Alfie returning to London for any amount of time made you feel ill with unease.

“I’m old enough and ugly enough look after myself, in’t I? I won’t be long, a few hours at most.”

The shrill ring of the doorbell interrupted your stand off and stopped you from arguing further.

Neither of you moved to answer it.

“I don’t wanna leave ‘ere on an argument, Yahalom.”

“Then don’t leave.”

He sighed heavily. “The sooner I go, the sooner I can get back.”

The bell rung again.

“Fuck sake! Hold on a minute!” Alfie roared towards the closed front door.

“Please, my love. I’m begging you, don’t go back there until you’ve spoken to Tommy. At least see what he has to say about all this.” Desperately your pained eyes beseeched him to stay.

“I don’t need to run anything past anyone. I handle my own business, right.” He gritted angrily.

“That’s not what I meant-“ You were cut off by the bell ringing a third time followed by knuckles rapping loudly on the door.

“Are them cunts deaf?” Alfie bellowed before turning his broad, slightly hunched shoulders and marching to the front door.

You followed him, stopping at the bottom of the staircase which stood opposite the door.

“Fine, go back without me.” You told him just as he reached for the door handle. “But be Warned, if you’re not back here by dusk then I’ll be on my way to London to look for you.” You threatened, abruptly turning on your heel and retreating up the stairs, leaving him to greet your babysitters. 

Alfie grunted, muttering something in Yiddish as he answered the door.

“What took you so long?” Alfie demanded as way of a greeting.

“Sorry, boss. The traffic was a joke.” Daniel explained.

“I’m gonna be fucking late now.” Alfie moaned. “Listen carefully...” He carried on in a hushed tone. “Don’t let ‘er out of your sight, right. And under no fucking circumstances let her leave ‘ere.”

With a vicious foreboding you observed Alfie leave from the bedroom window. You had purposely bid him a cold and transient farewell in hopes he would realise the purgatory he was subjecting you to and maybe change his mind, but it appeared he was determined in his return. Now without the consolation of a proper goodbye, you watched with choked desolation and worry as he left.

Aided by his cane, he trudged towards his automobile. He opened the car door and hesitated. Turning at the hip, his eyes rose to the bedroom window and connected with yours. Your breath caught in the back of your throat, your sweaty palm pressing against the frame of the window to steady your wavering.

“Please come back to me safely and in one piece.” You implored him quietly.

He winked as if hearing your silent plea and with one last longing look he was gone.

You peeled yourself away from the window once he had driven out of sight and debated how you could occupy yourself over the next few hours so they wouldn’t be longer and more gut wrenchingly painful than they was already going to be. The first thing you decided to do was call your mother to make sure she was ok and to see if Charles had popped by looking for you.

You chose to use the phone in Alfie’s office, the four walls that were predominantly him supplying your heavy heart with comfort from his absence.

Lifting the receiver of the telephone, you asked to operator to put you through.

A mess of papers littered Alfies desk and you tried to put order to them as you waited for the call to connect. A piece of paper scribbled with an address of one of Alfie’s warehouses and a time of 12 o’clock stole your attention.

The call connected the same time as the ring of the doorbell. Your brow furrowed at the unexpected noise coming from downstairs. Maybe it was Alfie having forgotten something. Thinking no more of it, you left it to one of the men to answer it.

“Hello?” Your mothers voice croaked impatiently a second time down the line.

“Mum? Are you ok?” You asked, relieved to hear her voice.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me. Are you ok?” You asked again but her reply was drowned out by a sudden fracas erupting from downstairs. You held the receiver away from your ear to garner more clearly what was unfolding. Two loud, horribly familiar bangs pierced the air followed by silence. You jumped up from Alfie’s desk with a gasp, your mothers questioning voice still tumbling down the receiver that was rattling in your now trembling grasp.

“I’ll call you back.” You murmured quickly and put the phone down.

Resisting the urge, somewhat instinctively to call out and break the deafening silence, you instead left Alfies office and proceeded tentatively downstairs to investigate. Your cautious steps grinded to a harrowing halt as you came face to face with Luca Changretta. Time seemed to stand still as shock sucked the air from your lungs and robbed you of your ability to scream. In your peripheral vision you saw the bodies of Ishmael and Daniel, both covered in crimson and lying motionless on the floor. 

Transfixed with utter disbelief and fear, your wide and frightened eyes focused back on the Sicilian devil and his two minions. Luca removed the matchstick he was chewing on and gave you a discerningly wicked grin, revealing in just a look that he knew everything. Coming to your senses, you turned instantly and flighted back up the stairs away from him.

“Get her.” You heard him order his two henchmen who padded heavily up the stairs after you.

You took the steps hurriedly, two at a time just making it to the top when your foot clumsily clipped the last step. You lost balance, stumbling forward and smashing your head unforgivingly on the opposing wall. Dazed, you tried scrambling to your feet in a last ditch attempt to escape but the blow to your head wouldn’t allow it. With a helpless groan you sunk dizzily back to the floor. Your surroundings became foggy and the chasing shadows blocked out all light as they neared. Any effort at fleeing was now futile but still you persisted, clawing your way desperately along the carpeted floor, not giving up until you felt a pair of forceful hands tug at your waist.

Alfie drove straight from Margate to his warehouse where he had arranged to meet Luca Changretta. He waited a full 45 minutes before a van pulled in to join him. He watched carefully as Luca emerged from the passenger seat followed by his men. Alfie was outnumbered by two, and quickly his mind weighed up the probabilities of him walking out of there alive. He concluded that the odds were in his favour considering what they had arranged in their first meeting; Luca needed Alfie to take one of his men as his second to the fight in Birmingham so they could get to Thomas Shelby and kill him. Making Alfie a indispensable asset - for now anyway.

“You’re late!” Alfie’s voice boomed, echoing through the expanse of the bare warehouse. “Now you better tell me what the fuck this is all about, mate? I mean we’ve made the fucking deal, in’t we? What more is there to say?”

“We made the deal Mr. Solomons.” Luca agreed. “But the truth is I don’t fucking trust you.” The matchstick in his mouth rolled from one side to the other. “Ya see, I’ve heard a lot about the devious reputation you’re notorious for Mr. Solomons. And you selling out your peaky pal, it got me thinking that I need some sort of... insurance, in case that fickle brain of yours is planning on double-crossing me.”

“What the fuck you on about?” Alfie frowned deeply.

“You’re a tough nut to crack Mr. Solomons, I’ll give ya that. No close family, no wife or children. I dug deep looking for some way in which I could feel more secure in our deal but I couldn’t find a fucking thing... But then our mutual friend Sabini told me something very interesting. Ya see, he had the great fortune of bumping into a whore that you’ve been seeing.” Luca removed the matchstick from his mouth and pointed it at Alfie, his eyes gleaming dangerously. “And, well...according to her, you’re not as untouchable as I thought... I just can’t believe it’s been right under my nose all this time.”

Vacantly, Alfie stared at him. “Well it’s fucking big enough, innit. I mean, I’m surprised you can see fuck all with a conk like that...”

Luca’s teeth caught the match he was chewing and bit down on it hard.

“Listen mate, if you wanted to know the size of my cock you should’ve just asked instead of chasing rumours like a headless fucking chicken. Now, why you’d be foolish enough to trust the word of a whore, I don’t know. But it still doesn’t change the fact that I ain’t got a clue what you’re rambling on about. So do us both a favour, yeah, stop beating round the bush with that smarmy fucking arrogance of yours and lay your cards on the table.” Alfie spouted stoically. Although he had begun to feel heavy with apprehension.

“Ok. I figured you’d play dumb.” Luca gave a blasé nod, then signalled to his right hand man. “Matteo! Lay my cards on the table for Mr. Solomons. Let’s see if that will help jog his memory.”

Alfies heart leapt up in to his mouth as he watched with knitted brows, Matteo step to the back of the van they had arrived in and pull the doors open wide. He reached into the back and dragged you from the vehicle. Bound and gagged you could do no more than comply. You were planted on your feet and guided forcefully forward. Your watery, bloodshot eyes bulging as they raised from the ground and fell upon a morosely stunned Alfie. A muffled version of his name erupted helplessly from your throat but was silenced by the material wedged in your mouth.

Alfie stood aghast, seized with an impotent anger. His body trembled from head to toe with an agonising rage that he was struggling to contain. It had finally happened; what he dreaded the most, what he fought diligently for so long to avoid.

“Not so fucking cocky now are we Mr. Solomons.” Luca smirked, strolling to your side.

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, mate.” Alfie started tensely. “Me and ‘er was just a bit of fun, right. She don’t mean nothing like that to me.” His forged confession sounded pitiful even to his own ears but out of desperation for your safety it was all he could do.

“Is that so? Then you won’t mind if I blow her fucking brains out.” Luca mocked, producing a gun from his belt. You flinched when the cold metal of the narrow muzzle landed at your temple.

Alfie growled, immediately whipping his own gun from the waistband of his trousers and pointing it at Luca. Automatically Luca’s henchmen drew their weapons and directed them at Alfie.

“As I thought.” Unfazed, Luca clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “It’s amazing what good pussy can do to a man.” He hummed, sliding the gun down your tear soaked face to your breasts. When the material of your dress stopped him from going any further he cocked his head disdainfully in Alfie’s direction, his thin lips curling up into a superior smirk.

“It pains me to see you like this Mr. Solomons.” He lied, enjoying the power he had over the squirming Jew. “But your dirty little secret’s out. You might as well put your weapon down and give it up.”

“Let ‘er go now or the deal’s off.” Alfie warned tightly.

Deal? You thought. What deal?

“You’re a funny guy, Mr Solomons, thinking I’m going to let go of something this priceless that easily. This here is my insurance. This here is giving me the absolute confidence that I needed to ensure that you don’t fuck me over.” Luca rasped. “Nothing’s changed, the deal still goes ahead as we planned and I still honour your costs for doing so. Then once the deed is done, I meet you outside of Birmingham and hand back the girl. As I’m sure you can understand, it’s nothing personal, just business... I mean, I suppose it is a lil personal actually considering Y/N’s meant to be betrothed to my cousin.” He glared in your direction.

“Na, that’s not gonna happen, mate - Because trust works both ways dunnit and I know for a fact, right, that you ain’t got no intentions of handing her back, dun’ I?”

“And what makes you say that?” Luca asked, seemingly bemused.

“Well once this deed’s done and I’ve fulfilled my part of it, it’ll make no difference to you if I’m dead or alive, will it? So granted, you’ll meet me outside Birmingham afterwards with the girl but only to put a bullet in my head and hers. So unless we come to some sort of compromise, the deal is off.”

“And what compromise do you suggest?”

“I want ‘er at the fight. I want eyes on ‘er the whole time-“

“-You want me to send her to the fight unaccompanied?” An incredulous Luca interrupted Alfie. “What, so you can run off into the sunset together before Shelby’s been dealt with and screw me over? No, no, no. She’ll need a chaperone at least. Someone I can trust...” He thought for a moment, and while he deliberated your mind struggled to process what you were hearing. Alfie had made a deal with Changretta to kill Thomas. You sobbed, shaking your head vigorously in protest, wishing it wasn’t so, wishing that your life didn’t now depend on it.

“Charles - as her rightful fiancé, he will accompany her.” Luca’s proposition quietened you but your inner turmoil worsened. “I’m assuming that’s no longer the case now though, huh?” He addressed you. “I wonder what he’ll have to say about all this.” He tutted.

“That’s not happening either.” Alfie told him through gritted teeth.

“Mr. Solomons.” Luca sighed exasperated. “You’re acting as if you have a choice in the matter. Be grateful, huh? You requested a compromise and I’ve given you one. Y/N will be at the fight as you wish, with Charles who I trust and who’ll be under strict instructions to behave himself. Then once it’s done he’ll hand her over. However, I want to make myself clear, Mr. Solomons, any funny business before my men carry out their duty, then all bets are off.”

“Alright.” Alfie grunted. “But let me also make myself clear, yeah, if any harms done to her, I will unleash it back on to the lot of you fucking threefold, mate. Make no mistake about it.”

Luca grinned. “Let me assure you that Y/N will be in safe hands. She’ll be heavily guarded until the fight... bare that in mind if your thinking about attempting a rescue, it would be a shame to ruin that beautiful face of hers just because you’ve tried to be a hero.”

Alfie said no more but you could tell he was seething. His furious gaze moved from Luca to you, his eyes softening ruefully. Tears fell helplessly down your cheeks as you stared back at him, your anguished look willing him wordlessly not to go through with it.

“I’ve gotta say it’s refreshing to see this softer side to you Mr. Solomons.” Luca admitted teasingly. “Let me tell ya, if I had a heart it’d be breaking right now - but I don’t, so now we’ve come to an understanding, Imma get this show back on the road.” Luca grabbed one of your shackled arms and tugged you backwards towards the van, pulling harder as you tried to resist, Alfie lurched forward angrily to intervene, stopping when Luca’s henchmen once again drew their weapons on him.

“Remember what I said about being a hero, Mr. Solomons.” Luca Cautioned. “Don’t worry, just a couple more days and you’ll be reunited.” Luca reasoned as he bundled you into the back of the van and slammed the doors.

“Oh, and I have to apologise...” You heard Luca’s muffled voice continue through the metal of van.

“I made a bit of an unavoidable mess in that beautiful house of yours. Just add the cost of the clean up to the bill.”

The van wobbled as the men occupied the front seats

“Toodle pip.” Luca bid Alfie farewell in a mock British accent, and the engine of the van roared, then after a beat the it took off, throwing you forward. Unable to keep balance you collapsed weakly onto your back and just laid there, staring into the darkness. Visions of Luca’s smug mug and Alfies tortured frown plagued your mind, followed by the horrendous, gory image of Ischmael and Daniels expired bodies; their blood spent at your expense. Then your imagination ran wild with the things that hadn’t happened yet. Like the treacherous murder of Thomas Shelby, and the anger, pain and plotted vengeance of the peaky gang for the loss of their leader and kin... But possibly worse than that - due mainly to its imminence, was the dreaded notion of having to face Charles. Luca’s words rung hauntingly in your head

‘ wonder what Charles will have to say about all this?’

You wasn’t worried so much about what Charles was going to say but more so about what he was going to do...

Previous

Tag list: @storm-bjorn @alsheyra @lililolli @jaegers-and-kaijus @lightwoodt @stars-trash-18 @anrm1 @innerpaperexpertcloud @alitheamateur @hardygal69

[thatesqcrush]

Time of the Month

Kevin Mulrooney x Reader. I mentioned possibly writing him again and an anon was definitely interested. Warnings: Dark!fic - dubcon, knife play, blood play, smut (they have sex while she is on her period), language. Possibly squick for many so I am only tagging those who may be interested: @beccabarba @madpanda75 @dreamlover31 @teamsladsandgents​

AN: Final piece for Love You, Love You Not Bingo. Using South of the Border for my song of choice. 

WC: 1.8K

**

“Babe, I’m a bad wife, I got Chinese for dinner.” You replied as you made your way into your Brooklyn apartment, slamming the door behind with your foot. When you received no response, you called out for your husband again. 

“Kev?” You set down the bag of takeout and your work bag. You made your further into the apartment; it was eerily quiet. You pushed the door to the bedroom, when you felt a set of hands on your shoulders. You let out a scream as you whipped around and met the green eyes of your husband.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me!” You frowned, hitting him slightly on the shoulder. “I hate when you sneak up on me like that. I thought you were a murderer or something.”

A smile twitched on Kevin’s face and he let out a small chuckle. “That’ll make the headline - ADA Kevin Mulrooney, secret slasher extraordinaire.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips.  “You got Chinese for dinner?”

“Yeah.” You sighed. “It’s that time of the month and I am having the worst cramps. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Kevin replied. “Why don’t you change and I’ll set out the food.”

“You’re the best - this is why I married you.” You replied, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Ah, see I thought you married me for my looks.” Kevin murmured, stroking your chin. His hand moved down to your neck and wrapped around it so gently, you hardly noticed. Kevin could feel your pulse throb with his thumb and his cock stirred to life. 

“That too.” You replied, before raising up to kiss him once more. Kevin pulled you closer to him and you could see a glint in his eyes, causing you to arch your brow in curiosity. 

“Go change.” Kevin replied, giving your ass a squeeze. 

You rolled your eyes, “Okay my little murderer.” You turned and made way to the bedroom, where you changed into a tank-top and sweats. Your hair, which was loose, was bundled into a messy top-knot and you walked back to find that Kevin had spread out the food on the coffee table with chopsticks. 

“What movie do you want to watch?” Kevin asked as he turned on the tv. 

“Oh anything - I don’t really care.” You replied, curling up on the couch. Kevin chose a documentary, but it wasn’t really watched as the two of you ate and caught up on the day's events.

After dinner, the two of you cleaned up. You were rinsing a plate when you felt Kevin come up to you, him pressing into your back. You shivered as his lips touched your skin, trailing down kisses down the slope of your neck.

“Mmm, babe, I want to,” you protested, “but I told you, it’s that time of the month.”

“Did you know, having an orgasm can help relieve cramps?” Kevin murmured into your ear as one hand slipped under your tank top to cup your tit. He rolled your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

“I don’t know… I have never…” You continued to protest. Kevin removed his hand from your tit and slipped down and into the waistband of your sweatpants. 

“Babe, I don’t want…” You protested once more, but Kevin ignored it as his hand pushed past the waistband of your panties and cupping your cunt. The back of his hand felt the material of what he assumed was your maxi pad. He was pleased you chose to wear one instead of your usual tampons. Kevin’s fingers quickly found your clitoris and he began to rub it in soft circles. He directed his mouth back to your neck, sucking marks into your skin. You moaned and closed your eyes as you gripped the lip of the sink as he continued to play with you. “Kev, I … oh fuck.”

Kevin could feel your wetness grow and he wondered how much of it was your arousal versus actual menstrual blood.  He slipped his hand from inside and brought it to his face, his eyes darkening at the sight of your arousal streaked with some blood.

You happened to turn around to face him and you swallowed hard as you watched him suck his fingers clean.  You opened your mouth to say something and instead you crushed your lips to his, in a rough kiss. Your hands tangled into his hair as you kissed him, hungry and desperate. “Join me in our bed.”

Kevin picked you up and smacked your ass as he brought you to the bedroom. Once in the bedroom, Kevin gave you a wicked grin before making quick removal of his clothes, his cock hard, red, and weeping. 

 “You trust me?” Kevin asked, breathless as he stood over your form. 

You nodded. “Of course.” 

You thought Kevin was going to make way to the chest in front of the bed where the two of you kept various sex toys. Instead he went to his side of the dresser and pulled out a fixed blade knife, about 5 to 6 inches in total length, with about a 3-inch blade. You scrambled up slightly, fear coursing through you as the night seemed to take an unprecedented turn.

Kevin took a step towards you, causing you to jump once more. You felt cemented in place as all you wanted to do was run but you were too panicked to do so. Kevin noticed and his gaze softened momentarily.

“I am not going to hurt you - I promise. It is sharp on one side and dull on the other.” Kevin explained as he played with the knife. 

“Kevin - I don’t know…” You stammered, feeling tears well. “I love you but…”

“Shhh, relax.” Kevin replied, sitting next to you. “I am going to make you feel so good. I’m gonna put my time in. You never live 'til you risk your life.”

He pressed his lips to yours once more, kissing you gently and softly. “Trust me.” He took the knife and ghosted it under your tank top, the feel of the cold blade grazing your skin. Your heart began to beat faster and goosebumps covered your skin.

“You’re a little crazy, but I'm just your type.” You murmured.

Kevin brought the knife back up from under. He grabbed at your tank top with his other hand and jerked up with the knife in one sharp motion, tearing the material with a pained rip. You gasped as he did so. Kevin ran the blade up between the valley of your breasts before tracing the tip around your already so sensitive nipples. His hand made way down your sweatpants again, finding its way easily to your pussy. You let out a groan as he sunk a finger inside of you. As he stroked you, Kevin continued to run the knife along your body. Part of his psyche urged him to nick you, but he fought against that, focusing on your moans to keep him locked into reality.

Kevin could feel your walls flutter against his fingers, so he slipped his fingers out of you, much to your protest. He grabbed the hem of your sweatpants and pulled them down. Kneeling in front of you, he spread your legs apart. 

“Kevin - no, that’s too much.” You protested again. Kevin took the knife and ran it along your inner thighs before bringing it to the waistband of your panties, and repeated the actions from earlier, tearing the material with ease. 

Kevin dropped the knife and encouraged you to lift your hips to remove the ruined material. Then his mouth was on your hot, wet core, eating you out as if he were a man starved. He dragged his tongue around, tasting you and enjoying the mixture of your arousal and slight metallic taste of your blood.  Your body arched in response and he moved his arm to lay it over you to keep you in place. Kevin kept a steady pace on you, watching your face as you gasped and moaned as he brought you to the edge. His teeth nipped your clit as he stroked that sensitive spot. 

“Kev, oh shit, fuck, I am gonna- fuck, gonna c--” You voice faltered as you came hard around his mouth. As more of your arousal and blood mixed into his mouth, his arousal surged through his body as if something animalistic and primal was awoken. 

You barely had a moment to come down, before Kevin was over you. He pushed your knees up and sunk his cock into you. You let out a gasp as he bottomed out and began to fuck you hard, and furious. Your foreheads touch and you pulled his face to yours, streaked with red. He captured your lips once more, and you gasp against his mouth. “Fuck me harder Kevin, give it to me.” 

Kevin growls and picks up his pace. He pounds into your mercilessly, gripping you hard and you know come morning, you would be very much sore and his marks would remain as evidence of this night.

You angled your hips, finding friction against your clit and you can  feel your orgasm begin to crest. Kevin was now chasing his own release, getting closer and closer. He let out a deep guttural groan as he stilled, coming deep inside of you. You reached between finding your clit and you rubbed until your own release crashed over you, moaning Kevin’s name.

Kevin slumped over you, and you continued to cling to him, your bodies sweaty and sticky. A thought comes across your mind and you let out a giggle. Kevin raises his head and your eyes rake over the smatters of dried blood on his face.

“I guess you earned your red wings. Oh my god, did I just say that? Still can’t believe we did that.” 

Kevin removes his now softened cock from you, and he can’t help but spread your legs apart, watching his come drip out of you, no longer virginal white.  A smile spreads on his face as he slips his fingers back into your cunt. You let out another moan as he starts stroking you once more. He leaned closely to you, his eyes meeting yours.

“Out of curiosity, how long does your period last?” 

FIN.

[byorder-fanfic]

Heaven Hears

Summary: After coming home from war, John has a second share of pain when Martha dies. Hopefully, his little sister can try and help.

Word count: 1759

Warnings: Death, grief, Christianity (is that a warning? I dunno I’ll keep it)

Authors Note: I’m sorry. This one is a little bit sadder than my others, but I SWEAR it has some fluffy bits in it! This is set in early 1919, so before the events of Season 1. Thank you so much for your continued support, I appreciate and LOVE you all for it xx

War was Hell, but the aftermath wasn't much better. For John, he wasn't sure if he'd rather crying in the trenches with his wife's letters pressed closed to his chest (to keep them safe from bullets and water) or now. With a soft sigh, he brushed his shaking finger over the creased paper. The ink hadn't worn away, still looking as fresh as the day they were written and, despite the wrinkles that embedded in it, the letters still survived, longer than the woman who wrote them. Martha. Each time he remembered her name, a new wave of grief and wanting hit him. Even in the bitter winters without thick clothes, huddled up in mud and men, his arms had never felt so cold. Pain seared through his throat but no tears rose. He had been crying solidly for a few weeks now. It seemed as if he's run out. His house was too quiet. Ada had taken the kids out for the day, giving him that longer-than-usual-"I'm sorry for your loss" kind of hug he was getting far too often before she took Jack and Katie's hands, letting his eldest Louise hold onto little George. Katie looked just like Martha, and Jack kept on asking when mummy was going to come home. And John was breaking. Coming home was supposed to be a celebration, and it really was for a while. He had his kids in his arms, wife by his side, and nothing was gonna stop him. Suddenly, a rapid series of knocks on his door forced John out of his thoughts. Stumbling a little, he made it to the porch, swinging open the door to reveal Polly. Her severe expression was immediately replaced with concern. John didn't look good: his hair was a mess, face so pale she could swore his freckles had darkened a few shades, his clothes wrinkled and stinking of whiskey. "Have you seen Y/N?" Polly asked, looking down at her nephew's raggedy appearance with a furrowed brow. "Nah," he said, suddenly feeling a jolt of worry displace his misery. "Why? Is she missing?" Y/N was only ten years old, and more protected by her brothers than the King of England. If she managed to slip away, the whole of Birmingham would be called to the streets soon. That is, if Polly didn't find her first. "She said she was going to see you." Polly's pursed lips reminded John of a simpler time, when she'd scold them for playing too rough with Michael (just a baby then!), and lecture them all when they got into fights. Or, more recently, when the two Shelby twins made mischief in Small Heath. In an instant, John grabbed his coat from the hook and pulled it over, somewhat hiding his dishevelled clothes, and obscuring his unkempt hair with his Peaky cap. "Let's go looking then," he said simply as he shut the door behind him. Polly held her hands up, forcing him to pause on his rampage. "I can find her by myself, you need rest." He hadn't heard that since he got the flu at fourteen. The same age he met Martha, the bitterness soon settled back in. "I need to find Y/N," John tried to stop himself from sounded stroppy, looking at Polly with conviction. "And I need a distraction." With a sharp huff, Polly grabbed onto the crook of his elbow as the two ventured down the grimy streets of Small Heath, listening for the girl's squeal of laughter and quick footsteps, looking in every corner for a hint of the troublemaker John called sister. They looked in all the usual places: the Cut and the stables were empty, neither Uncle Charlie or Curly had seen her, the Garrison hadn't had a Shelby in it all day according to Harry (much to both of their surprise), and she wasn't hiding away at a friend's house. Accepting defeat, the two decided to trudge back to Watery Lane to tell Tommy and Arthur that they couldn't find Y/N and thus force every Peaky Blinder awake or otherwise to join a search party for her. Until, Polly stopped in front of the Church, forcing John to stop in his tracks too.  "What the Hell, Pol," he began before turning to follow his aunt's gaze. In the steps in front of the Church sat a familiar figure. Thirteen year old Isaiah Jesus was hunched up, a cigarette loose in his hands and smoke surrounding him. Both the Shelbys walked up with kind smiles, always happy to see the preacher's boy. As soon as Isaiah heard the familiar march of Polly's heels, he stumbled to stand up, dropping the cigarette and stamping it out. He brought his sleeve (that was getting shorter on his long arms every time they saw him) up to rub his nose, a motion that irritated both of their parental instincts. With a small sigh, he waved at them. "Hello Mrs Grey," he said politely, although a little hoarse. Getting closer, they could both see his eyes were slightly pink, his dark skin shining with recent tears. It seemed as if he didn't just come away from his father's view to smoke. "Are you alright, Si?" John asked softly. Isaiah pressed his lips together, preventing the tears in his eyes from spilling in front of them as he gave a hesitant nod. "Yeah, um, Y/N is in there," he swallowed thickly, pointing behind him. He refused to meet their eyes. "She's talking to my...my mum, and uh Martha too." John froze at the name. He hadn't heard it spoken in so long, except for the incessant chanting in his head. But Isaiah wasn't afraid to say her name, he knew all too well about grief. They remembered how much smaller he was then, his black sleeves and trousers needed to be rolled up as he walked alongside his mother and baby sister's coffin. In an instant, John walked into the Church. The sound of the door made Jeremiah, sat in the back pew, turn around. With a warm smile, he brought a finger to his lips, then pointed ahead of the three of them. In front of the altar, Y/N was sat on the floor - despite the multitudes of empty chairs surrounding her - as you looked up, illuminated by the light. Although the Birmingham sky was perpetually grey, the stained glass window shone in gold and pinks. "God, I think it must be nice for Mrs Jesus to have Martha," your voice rung through the stone building, as you chattered on, as conversationally as you would speak to Finn. "I mean, little Delilah must be..." you paused, and John knew you were doing that scrunched up face you and Arthur had when you were trying to do sums. "Five? I think. Well, Polly said we were all a right menace at that age, so Martha'll be there to help her." John looked from Jeremiah's joyous expression to Polly's uneasy one, not sure which side he related to more. "Martha really was the best mother." You said it a little bit sadder. "The kids all miss her, and John's..." He took a step forward, craning to hear what you had to say for him. "He's in so much pain, and I don't know what to do. God, please give me some of it for him. He's already got so much going on in his brain, and Polly said that I've got an empty head, so I wouldn't mind carrying some of it for him. I know Tommy or Arthur would do the same, but their heads are still messed up from the War, and I guess John's is too. He just has more important stuff to think about." For what felt like the first time in a while, John smiled. He walked down the aisle and placed a gentle tap on your bent head. Startled, you looked up. Seeing John, you gave him a big grin as he came to come sit down next to you, cross-legged as if he was back in school and Mrs Changretta was reprimanding him again. He supposed that's what the presence of God felt like to him- a disappointed authoritarian. He held onto his sister's hand, as you looked back up to the intricate window. "Martha, I'm gonna hug John for you now." You moved over to wrap you arms around him, only reaching up to his shoulder as you nuzzled your head against his coat. He knew it was itchy for you, so he pulled you into his lap like he'd do when you were so much younger. Smiling wide, you rested against him like you were still that toddler.  "Hey Y/N-" he didn't get to finish his sentence, as you gave him an annoyed arch of your eyebrows as you brought a finger up to shush him. Sitting up, she looked back up to the window. "Sorry God, I'm going to speak to John now. I'm sorry I got mad at Finn this week, and mum I swear I didn't mean to push him in the Cut, please help me make everyone smile again, and..." you gave a look of pure concentration as she held onto your hands tighter. "That's it! Amen."  You snuggled back down into John's arms, looking at him expectantly. "You can talk now," you told him sweetly. Despite himself, John laughed loudly, giving you a toothy grin. "Oh, can I?" He sounded teasing, and it made Polly beam at Jeremiah as they saw, for the first time in weeks, his happiness that once radiated from him. "Well, Y/N, I just wanted to say it's sweet what you said the big man about me, but you don't have to take on my pain for me." "I don't have to," you repeated sternly. "I choose to." "Even so," John smiled again, the feeling somehow foreign on his face. "The pain I feel is just a reminder of how much I love her." He couldn't say her name, it choked in his mouth, but you understood, nodding your head dutifully. "And it will get easier to handle with time." He looked up to the window, the eyes of a Biblical hero he couldn't name, that seemed to listen to each word. "And, Martha, when that happens, the kids' and I, we'll smile every time we think of you cause of how much we love you, right?" "Amen," Y/N said softly.

[rubysunnday]

I’ve got you, part 7

A/N: The last one! This is all you’re getting for the rest of the weekend, fyi, because this took me all day and I no longer know what time it is

Finn (part 1), Michael (part 2), Ada (part 3), John (part 4), Tommy (part 5), Arthur (part 6), Shelby!Sis (part 7)

You

Everyone else was down at the Garrison, celebrating another successful race day. You’d offered to stay behind and tidy things up a bit before locking up and joining them. Finn had joined you but had disappeared after a while when Isaiah had appeared.

It’d just been you in the shop when someone knocked on the door. You frowned, glancing over at the clock which showed the time as been ten to six, but walked over to the front door, unlocking it.

“Sorry, we’re closed –“

You stopped talking as you stared at the man waiting on the doorstep, your heart beginning to pound. Your breathing picked up and you were surprised that you were still standing.

“Huh,” your father said, pushing his way into the building, “I’m surprised you’re still here.”

Your father wasn't a kind man. He was where Arthur got his temper from, where Tommy got his violence from. It was no secret amongst the family that he’d hit you when you were younger. Despite how young you’d been, you still remembered it. It haunted you to this day and when he’d left, you’d felt a little lighter.

But seeing him again sent all the memories and pain flooding back and you felt like you were about to pass out.

You swallowed, following after him as you tried to keep calm. “Why are you here?” You asked, eyes following him as he surveyed the shop, reading the chalk board.

“Just visiting.”

“You never just visit,” you replied. “You always want something.”

Your father looked over at you, eyes judging you as he looked you up and down. “You look like your whore of a mother,” he said suddenly, and your hand clenched into a fist as he began rifling through papers.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you said, stepping forward and attempting to block him as he walked about.

“This was my business,” he replied, not caring. “Now look at it.” He opened one of the books and flicked through the pages, eyes scanning the contents. “Ruined by those bastard’s.”

You suddenly found a sense of anger and stormed forward, slamming the betting book he was looking through shut. “You need to leave, now.”

Your eyesight went for a second and there was suddenly searing hot pain in your cheek. You fell back against the table, grabbing onto the edge so you didn’t fall over and gasped, hand going straight to your cheek as you tried to catch your breath.

“OI!” 

Your father stumbled back, reeling from the punch Finn had given him, your brother suddenly at your side, an arm around your waist as he stood up to your father. 

“You need to leave,” Finn growled as Isaiah and a few other Peaky boys stepped forward and shoved your father out the building.

You suddenly realised you couldn’t breathe, your nails digging into your palm as a ringing noise filled your ears, your legs barely supporting you. You began to hyperventilate and Finn turned back to you, eyes wide.

 “Y/N?” Finn asked, titling your head up so that he could look at you. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t breathe,” You whispered to Finn, clutching the sleeves of his jacket as he held you. “I can’t...” you gasped, tears streaming down your face. 

“OK,” Finn said, his arm resuming its position around your waist. “Come on.”

You didn’t remember walking down to the Garrison, your mind to preoccupied with trying to keep breathing and to not pass out. There was suddenly a lot of yelling and loud noise and you flinched, but Finn tightened his grip on you, guiding you through the people and to the private room to the side.

It was getting harder to breathe, spots appearing in your vision and you found yourself gasping, hand tightly clenching Finn’s as he somehow managed to get you into the room, shutting the door behind you.

“Y/N?”

“What happened?”

Someone was guiding you to sit down as you still struggled to breath, gasping and panting as tears streamed down your face. Tommy’s face appeared in front of yours and your nails dug into his hand as he crouched down, pushing your head down in between your knees, hand rubbing circles soothingly.

“Just breathe, sweetheart,” Tommy said softly even though he knew you couldn’t hear him. “Just breathe.” 

John sat down on your other side, gently rubbing your arm as he and Tommy formed a shield around you. “We’ve got you.”

“Finn, what happened?” Ada asked as she set a glass of water on the table in front of you. 

“Our father turned up again,” Finn said as he sat down next to Michael, his cousin checking to make sure he hadn’t broken his hand when he’d punched your father. 

“Did he do this?” Arthur asked, catching sight of your cut lip and red cheek, a handprint clearly visible.

John’s spare hand gently touched your face and you flinched slightly, shaking as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. 

Finn nodded. “Isaiah’s dealing with it,” he replied giving Arthur a knowing look. Arthur nodded grimly as he sat down next to you, putting a hand on your shoulder. 

Tommy glanced down at you as your breathing slowly evened out, your grip on his hand still iron tight. “Y/N?” He asked quietly. “You alright now?” You nodded, clenching your eyes shut for a second, your grip on Tommy’s hand increasing as you suddenly remembered what happened.

“He’s not here,” Michael said and you slowly looked up at your cousin, still breathing heavily. “He’s not here,” Michael repeated, his eyes calm as they locked onto yours for a second.

You nodded, letting out a very shaky breath as Arthur stroked your hair, wedging you between him and John. Tommy was still rubbing your back, no judgement in his eyes as you lowered your head again, your other hand entwining with Arthur’s.

“Does it hurt?” Ada asked softly, bringing a chair closer to you as her eyes scanned your face, a bruise already beginning to form under your eye.

You went to shake your head but paused. “Yeah,” you whispered, nodding once.

“That’s alright,�� Arthur said, giving your hand a squeeze, “we can sort it out.”

You nodded once again before closing your eyes and lowering your head, still trying to calm yourself down. You hoped they wouldn’t all leave you.

“We’ll be here,” Tommy said softly, almost as if he’d read your mind. There were so many times you’d been the older sibling to them that none of them minded being the older sibling to you for once. 

“Take all the time you need,” John added, gently rubbing his thumb over your hand.

You gave Tommy the smallest smile as John and Arthur began talking about redoing the Garrison again, Ada and Michael chiming in to discourage the idea before they’d even finished suggesting it whilst Finn tried to sneak a drink only for Ada to tell him to put it back. Your family was insanely crazy but you knew that for every time you’d been there for them, they’d be there for you.

[rainythefox]

Nightfall (CH.16)

Synopsis: Pre-Resident Evil 1, slight-AU/Canon Divergence. Claire Redfield comes home to visit her  brother Chris for the holidays but gets caught up in a dangerous game of  cat and mouse with Albert Wesker, the Captain of STARS, after stumbling  upon dark secrets. She can’t call the law; Wesker is the law, and she  can’t tell Chris. She is trapped…Claire/Wesker & Slight Chris/Jill (There’s Wesker & William Bromance too lol). Rated M for smut, language, violence, adult content.

AO3 Link

Chapter 16: Mine

Warning: this chapter contains lots of smut. You’ve been warned, okay? Okay! :P Because of this, only the first section of the chapter is available on Tumblr. Please follow the link to AO3 to read the rest. Thank you! :)

Okay, she knew her luck had taken a big dump recently, but this was ridiculous! If she thought the university job was difficult, she promptly changed her mind. That was a walk in the park compared to this. Claire stared at all the people. The exquisite party was happening at the ritzy Orient Restaurant on the second floor of the most luxurious hotel in the city, Central Hotel.

There had to be close to a hundred people here! The whole restaurant was closed to cater for the invitation-only event. Why did she even assume this “Christmas Party” was going to be just a group of rich, old dudes bragging all night? With how her luck has been, she should've known better!

Claire gaped at the man beside her who was unfortunately the closest thing she had to a friend at the moment. She recalled William’s little “briefing” on the drive over here.

“The party’s not gonna be that big. Just a simple “get in, get out”. You’ll be home in no time! Actually, you’ll probably be at Al’s home in no time!”

He was still rubbing his arm where she decked him.

“This is nothing like how you explained it!” she hissed.

But the mad scientist only half-heard her, his eyes lit up as though he was a kid about to enter his very first amusement park. Something in here was on his kill list because Claire overheard he wasn’t a stranger to parties, at least not to parties like this that could get him something he wanted. 

William was actually quite handsome all cleaned up in his suit. Claire had grown accustomed to his usual disheveled appearance that made him attractive in his own way.

He grinned slyly. “Oh relax, sweetheart. You’ll be fine. Most of these people are total bores…losers just out trying to feel important. They got nothing on you!” He winked at her. “You know what to do, who to find. Ada’s on your earpiece and Al and I are here to watch your back. Don’t worry. Al _definitely _won’t let you out of his sight. Just…don’t distract him too much. I need him focused tonight.”

“Are you fu-”

“Erica!” William nearly squealed, waving both arms and abruptly abandoning her. “Is that gown designed by Broca’s aphasia? Because I’m speechless!” 

Claire glared at the fickle bastard as he ditched her to join some other people standing around talking and drinking. She was on her own for now.

“Forget about him, Claire. Just focus on getting to Bennett. Best not drag this out longer than we have to and risk exposing ourselves,” Ada said on her earpiece.

“Okay,” she mumbled, and got into character, her natural Redfield bravado and assurance making it easy to stroll through the party like she owned the place.

It was a beautiful Asian restaurant. Most of the dark tables were accented with candles and glasses. The lounge-like chairs were colorful and comfy, and the tall ceilings gave way to soft LED string lights, oriental paintings and sectioned lattices. In warmer seasons, the same kind of setup could be seen on the massive balcony, but it was currently closed off.

She felt many eyes on her as she started her objective. But she only cared about one set of eyes as she discreetly scanned the place for them.

This many people here was both a blessing and a curse for her mission, and it could go either way real quick at any time. More people meant no room for mistakes, too many eyes. But on the other hand, this many people distracted amongst themselves could make it easy to get away with nearly anything.

Claire soon found the eyes she had been seeking, felt the familiar, pleasing burn on her skin they always caused. She traced them to an area with more people, where a grand, gold statue of Lord Yama sat. Directly in front of the god of death, Wesker was encircled by a small group, mostly beautiful women, and he charmed them effortlessly.

The younger Redfield had to keep herself from staring, also charmed by his chameleon smile, good looks, and striking black suit. Her nerves tingled from simmering blood. She couldn’t believe it. She was actually jealous?! Claire was angry with herself. How could she possibly feel anything of the sort over the man that was blackmailing her?

Besides...she knew Wesker well enough by now to know that it was all pretense. She was sickened and enthralled by how easily he could deceive and influence people. Ada was right. His calculating mind, his clever tongue, those were his deadliest weapons; not his hands, not his gun.

The statue of Yama was simply a backdrop to the true god of death in the room. His admirers probably had no clue and listened intently. The women batted their eyes, pushed out their chests, even the ones who had dates. And those men did nothing about it, perhaps too enthralled themselves or maybe it was the fact that Wesker had an uncanny ability to make most men around him submissive.

He may have looked like he was paying attention to them, his eyes concealed behind black shades, but Claire knew he was watching her. All of her. Every breath, every step, he was in complete tune. Something about that lit a fire in her belly so fierce, she trembled.

The jealousy she felt instantly crumbled. It didn’t matter if those women were rich or prettier or dressed in nicer dresses. They meant nothing to him. Not like she did.

And why was that, exactly?

Claire frowned, faltering mid-step, eyes still locked on Wesker across the room when she should've been moving on. She had some suspicions, if her gut and Ada and William were anything to go by. 

More importantly, why do you care?

“Claire?! Earth to Claire, hello?”

“Huh?”

“You aren’t exactly being inconspicuous staying in one spot drooling over Albert.”

Claire’s face flushed and she briskly walked away with a huff. “I’m not drooling!”

The first place she needed to check for her target would be the bar. Typical. It was in the back of the restaurant, low-lit, a massive, semi-circled bar with a marble countertop up against an airbrushed wall depicting a dragon floating through the clouds.

“Whatever you say, hun.”

Claire bit her tongue, taking a deep breath. “I was just happy to see him chatting up other women. Less problems for me.”

Ada sighed. “Claire, fishing is beneath you. First, they aren’t his type. More importantly, Albert detests easy women.”

That wasn’t her intention. “I wasn’t-”

“Unfortunately and fortunately for you, you are his type and are as difficult as they come. I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but you’re as close to obsession as he’s going to get romantically.”

The only fortune she could come up with was that it was unlikely Wesker would kill her. But obsession through people with sociopathic and psychopathic tendencies like Wesker were never a good thing. Her life might be spared at the end of all this...but at what cost?

Claire briskly pushed that thought aside, something cold and heavy dropping in the pit of her stomach. She needed to focus on finding Bennett and getting this over with. That was her excuse. After all, she wasn’t ready to acknowledge that her own growing infatuation would likely veer her into her captor’s arms for good.

She looked around the bar area. There were all kinds of high-status people attending Bard’s Christmas party. Doctors, politicians, city officials, even Mayor Warren and Chief Irons were here.

She recognized Mueller from Raccoon University having a casual conversation with the man that had to be her target. A picture was never granted, but a detailed description allowed her to quickly analyze him. It had to be him. Tall, average build, auburn hair and an anchor beard. He chatted with Mueller with a drink in his hand.

Just as Claire stepped their way, a strong grip snatched her wrist. She was spun around, coming face-to-face with Nathaniel Bard. He looked fine since the anaphylaxis she put him through with the shrimp, but the creep wasn't happy one bit with her, still keeping a painful grip on her arm.

"I knew I'd see your face again, girl. What happened at the university is all your fault."

Claire glared at him. "You're gonna be hurting more if you don't let me go right now."

The music and all the guests chatting around them helped conceal her threat from eavesdropping ears but the Spencer Memorial doctor heard her clearly.

He considered challenging her, lips pursing, but soon let her go after his eyes scanned the numerous faces within the party. "I know you're working with those two bastards. You have no idea how much harm you’ve caused me and several of my colleagues. Lowery was a good man, understand? He had a family. And now I’m trapped doing those two psychos’ bidding.”

“Maybe you aren’t the only one who is trapped.”

“Well then there’s more to your pretty face, isn’t there? They wouldn’t risk it otherwise.”

Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Claire clenched a fist, as it took all of her willpower not to break his damn nose. She had a job to do here. If she caused a scene in the middle of this party, especially with the man hosting it, then she could kiss her freedom and potentially Chris’s life goodbye.

She did let him in on what he was narrowly missing out on by grabbing his hand and twisting it slightly, squeezing hard on a pressure point. Just enough to make it really hurt, just enough to get her point across while looking like she was just holding his hand to nearly everyone else. “If my life didn’t hinge on fulfilling this job, you’d be on the floor with a broken fucking face, do you understand me?”

“Damn, Claire. I like your style,” Ada chimed in.

The younger Redfield ignored her and smiled, showing the guests they were having a pleasant conversation. Bard hissed in pain, quickly nodding. Claire released him and he jerked his hand away, shaking it off with a grimace.

“Listen, I’ll make the job easy for you. Just...do what you need to do and get out of here. Take those assholes with you. And never show your face at one of my social events ever again.”

“I’d love to, but it’s not my call. But...I have a feeling you know exactly who you can talk to about that.”

Bard scowled, rubbing his injured hand. He muttered something under his breath and motioned her to follow him, heading towards Bennett and Mueller in the back of the bar. “C’mon, and follow my lead.”

“Ugh, he better not screw this up.”

Bard put on a welcoming smile once they reached Mueller and Bennett’s table. Mueller recognized her, but didn’t say anything. She barely got a moment’s glare from him before he flashed Bard a guarded look, as if asking “what are you up to now?” The two men stood and the doctor shook their hands.

“Mr. Bennett! I trust you are enjoying the party? What kind of host would I be if I was neglecting my honored guest?”

He looked to be in his thirties maybe. His smile was warm as he nodded. He noticed Claire nearly right away, and there was a definite reaction of some kind. Attraction, she guessed, immediate infatuation. Great…

“Oh yes,” he said in a European accent. “I am grateful to you and Greg’s hospitality. You’ve made being so far from home much more bearable.”

“Good, good! It’s a shame your business partner couldn’t join us this evening. But I’m sure he had his reasons. You two are busy men, after all!”

Bennett nodded, composed yet amiable. “That we are. I’m sorry, but I have to ask, who is this beautiful young lady you have with you?”

Bard didn’t skip a beat in his front, presenting her with a grin like she was a piece of treasure up for auction.

“I know, stunning right? This is Elza. She’s one of my...assistants.”

The European man held out his hand with a handsome, friendly smile. It could’ve fooled anyone, and it almost fooled her. But her gut constricted at the last moment, her first indication something wasn’t right about this guy.

He took her hand and kissed it softly. “It is my utmost pleasure, Miss Elza. I’m Stephan Bennett. Please, just call me Stephan.”

Claire put on the sweetest smile she could muster, batting her lashes. “The pleasure’s all mine, Stephan.”

He looked her over, and although he was an attractive man, it made her skin crawl.

“Has Greg taken you up to your suite yet?” Bard asked cordially. “I’ve left you a little treat as a thank you for choosing to stay the night in Raccoon City’s famous Central Hotel!” 

Bennett ripped his eyes from Claire and shook his head at the host. “No, sir. I got the keycard to the room earlier, but wanted to check out the party before retreating for the night.” He presented a friendly, almost sheepish smile. “Honestly, I’m still a little messed up with the time zone changes. I didn’t think it would affect me this much.”

“That’s not a problem. My assistant and I will escort you up there. There’s a little bit of business I’d like to discuss with you anyway,” Bard replied.

“What about your party?”

“Eh, they’ll entertain themselves! Greg will take care of things while I’m gone. It won’t be but a few minutes.” Bennett glanced at Claire, expression unreadable, and Bard quickly added. “My assistant is completely trustworthy, don’t worry. She knows about our research.”

Bennett nodded, relieved. “Alright, lead the way, Nathaniel.”

Claire was uncertain what to do as Mueller shook hands with Bennett and bid them good night before heading for the bar. Her job was to stick a bug on the European businessman, probably so Wesker and William could track him straight to Aaron Roth. Leaving the party just tossed her whole plan into the garbage. This just got way riskier.

Nothing like winging a mission where my life’s literally at stake. What’s the worst that can happen?

“Great,” Ada whispered in her ear, not helping Claire’s gut feeling. “Wesker’s watching and listening through your piece. He says it’s fine. Just get that bug on Bennett without him knowing.”

Was that supposed to make her feel better that Wesker said it was fine? And how exactly was he able to do that anyway? That just made her earlier conversation with Ada a lot more awkward...

With a slight tick of her jaw, Claire composed herself with a friendly smile and followed the two men out of the restaurant and into the fancy, historical hotel.

They went to the lobby, a grand room with high ceilings, bright lights, and expensive carpet and decor. The elevator ride to the fifth floor seemed extra crowded, even though there were just three of them. Bard and Bennett chatted normally about their lives and careers. Claire didn’t like the frequent glances Bennett gave her. She waited for an opportunity, stayed vigilant with that inkling sprouting in her gut.

It got worse when Ada told her she lost visual on her from their location.

Wesker’s making you do this alone because he wants to see how you do, said a small voice in the back of her head. She didn’t have proof, but she wouldn’t put it past him.

She gave vague answers when Bennett asked her something, either curious and flirting or digging and deceiving. She wasn’t exactly sure.

Bennett scanned his card and held the door open to the big, two-bedroom suite. Bard strolled right on in but Claire hesitated, not wanting to put her back to these men. When she did, she felt his eyes all over her, and when he closed the door, he purposely brushed her to get by.

They stepped into the spacious living room first, accented with a bar and impressive kitchen. There was a home theater set up in the den, opposite a wall of glass that displayed downtown Raccoon City. Dark buildings silhouetted within soft glows of lights of all colors. Speckles of white rained down softly outside.

“You meant it when you said this suite had a view,” Bennett stated, drawn to the panorama.

Bard gave her a look, dipped his head in the direction of his “guest”, as if urging her to get her business done. Claire glared at him as he turned off to the bar instead.

“Yes, I did! And over here, something just for you, Mr. Bennett. Your favorite wine. All the way from home!”

“I don’t like this. Are you okay? Cough if you are.”

“How thoughtful of you, Dr. Bard. Thank you. You’ve gone out of your way to make me feel at home here.”

Claire didn’t like it either. She looked around, keeping up her appearance as she joined the men at the bar. She didn’t see any danger, but something like it was lurking about. Whatever it was, she was fine for now.

She coughed. “Oh, excuse me.”

Bennett watched her more than Bard, but she still couldn’t read his expression. Bard took the fancy bottle out of the container of ice. “Shall we have a glass while we talk?”

“Yes. I’d like that.”

That clicked an idea in her brain. Claire put a hand on Bard’s arm, mustering up the realest fake friendly smile she could handle, looking between the two men under thick lashes. “How about you gentlemen take a seat, get comfortable? Let me serve you.”

Bennett’s smile held something darker, but it was gone in a flash. Bard looked at her funny, but composed himself and slowly put the wine down on the counter. “Of course, Elza! You’re always the sweetest thing! Come, Stephan, over here.”

“What do you have planned, exactly?” Ada asked. “Ugh, I hate going by sound alone.”

Her cohorts had lied to her, she realized. William promised Wesker wouldn’t let her out of his sight and Ada said she would watch over her. Wesker didn’t say much to her before the party, but disclosed if she did what she was told, she would be fine. She was alone here and certainly felt something other than “fine” was coming her way.

The doctor and his guest went to the lounge chairs nearby, sitting across from each other. It was the perfect way for Claire to bug Bennett without him knowing. She opened the white wine and poured their glasses, giving them time to get settled in their seats and start talking. The more distracted they were, the better. It also gave her a moment to get the tiny tracking device ready.

The younger Redfield served Bennett first. She caressed her fingers up his arm, across his shoulder, stopped at the back of his neck, squeezing his collar gently. Her flirtatious smile was enough to distract him from Bard when she handed him his drink. She didn’t remain long, crossing to Bard and giving him his drink with the same smile, the same caress that made her skin crawl. She left them and returned to the bar, gathering up the wine bottle and ice bucket and placing them on the table in between the two men.

Claire eavesdropped on their conversation, but a lot of it made no sense to her. Big research, Sheena and Rockfort Island, Roth, Ashfords, prototypes, T-series. All similar topics that Wesker and William discussed and were involved with.

“You know, it’s strange how all of our business associates keep coming up dead or missing since we’ve been in town,” Bennett said after a long sip of his wine.

Bard grew quiet, confused, his fingers clenching around his wine glass. “What…do you mean?”

The European man looked at Claire, like he knew all of her secrets, not near as charming now. “You know what happened to them...don’t you, Miss Walker? Or should I call you Miss Redfield?”

Claire stiffened, nails digging into the chair arms. She dared not blink, glaring at him, keeping calm, but reeling underneath on how to react. He knew her name. Her _real _name.

Shit!

“Shit!” Ada echoed in her ear. “Claire, don’t do anything rash. Hang in there.”

It wasn’t as though she had much of a choice. She was on her own. Bard’s alarmed face told her everything. He was just as surprised as her, but would be too much of a coward to help her.

Claire took a deep breath. “I don’t know what happened to them.”

“I think Dr. Lowery would say otherwise.”

“How do you know my real name?”

The European businessman crossed one leg casually, swishing the wine in his glass, sharp eyes on her. “All it took was a little digging. You really shouldn’t use your mother’s maiden name as an alias, darling. Especially one as unique as hers.”

Cold steel bumped the back of her head. A gun.

Wesker had told her the same thing. Warned her.

She was careless to use it after not being prepared at the university. Now she was in real danger. The other wolves that Wesker claimed he was protecting her from had stalked her right into a corner. Then again, maybe he wasn’t expecting _this _pack. Or maybe he had and was ready to give her up as tribute for his own motives…

“Uh, Stephan, what’s going on, is t-this necessary?” Bard asked.

“Quiet, or you’ll have one to your head also.” Bennett motioned for Claire to stand. “My business partner, Aaron, would like to speak to you one-on-one, Miss Redfield. You have the time, right? You can help fill the gaps on what’s been happening to our dealings. We’re getting warm, but it seems as though everyone is too afraid to give us answers. Whoever you’re working for, we’ll cut you a nice deal if you expose them.”

Claire kept his gaze, defiant, silent. She had no choice but to comply. She had no weapons on her, no way to hide one in this dress. She slowly moved her hands down to her sides, preparing to push herself up, and felt it. The cold, metal coil of a corkscrew. She forgot she had brought it with her while serving the drinks.

Snatching it up between her fingers, she stood. The man who had the gun to her head pulled her out away from the chair. Bennett rose from his seat, finishing his drink and setting the empty glass down.

Bard shot up as well, looking between Claire and his guest, panicking. “Wh-What are you doing?”

There were two other men in suits now. They must’ve been hiding in the suite this whole time. Although they didn’t have weapons drawn, they were probably packing like the one behind her.

“Nathaniel, lying to me that she is your assistant? After what happened to Simon, I’m shocked. Someone’s got you cowering and afraid, just like Greg. Just like our friend the Police Chief.”

“I-It’s n-not what you think.”

Bennett nodded to the other men. They grabbed Bard by the arms, containing him. The European man pulled a gun equipped with a silencer from his suit jacket.

The doctor fought his captors. “Wait! No!”

Claire stabbed the man behind her in the groin with the corkscrew. He cried out as she spun, disarming him and shoving him away where he tumbled to the floor. She grabbed the bottle of wine and threw it at Bennett’s head just as he switched his gun on her. The bottle shattered on his face.

She didn’t get far with running. Not in that dress, not in those heels, before she was snatched by his men. A bash above her temple instantly made the world spin. Still, she fought, as weak as she suddenly felt.

Bennett was soaked, his face earning a few gashes from broken glass, blood mixing with golden-colored wine. He cursed, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He grabbed her neck, squeezing hard.

“You little bitch! You’re lucky Aaron wants to speak with you, or you’d be dead!”

That’s when his arm snapped. Like a twig. He screamed. Claire, her vision still hazy from the blow to her head, realized he was attacked. His men were attacked; she was let go. A few blinks and she saw Wesker using some sort of martial arts to swiftly dispose of them. Not Bennett though. He raced away to his escape while holding his limp arm that flopped uselessly as he ran.

The STARS Captain had killed the other three. In seconds. With his hands. He paused, looking to the door where Bennett had fled, as if deciding whether to pursue him. He was over it in seconds though, grabbing her and pulling her to him. Not as rough as she had expected, but gentle wasn’t really in his nature.

“Hold still,” he commanded. She felt his hand on her head. He must’ve been examining the clout she had received. “Are you alright?”

There was some blood on his hand when he withdrew it, and she felt it trickling in her hair. It must’ve been just a small cut, otherwise it would’ve been all over her face by now.

“Yeah,” she said. And she was. It had only made her light-headed for a minute or so.

The nearby chair squeaked as it scooted on the carpet, and a muffled curse came from the other side. Wesker finally looked away from her, jaw clenching. He marched over to the furniture and kicked it. The chair crashed and skidded several feet away. Wesker seized Bard by the collar and picked him up, slamming him into the nearby bar counter. The sound his body made hitting the granite countertop made her flinch, and Bard’s yelp confirmed it.

“Wesker, wait, please! I d-didn’t know! I didn’t! I swear! He was gonna kill me too!”

“He was,” Claire confirmed. 

She had no idea why she defended the asshole, especially when he didn’t offer her any help before. But she could tell he was telling the truth. Wesker paused, but didn’t look at her, probably contemplating what to do with the doctor as he shuddered in his hands.

“Consider your...contract extended indefinitely,” Wesker growled, and shoved him over the other side of the bar. He put a couple fingers up to his ear, the same hidden piece she had. “Ada, William, we’re finished here. Ada, track Bennett. William, tell Irons he has a mess to clean up with Bard and Mueller.”

Bard got to his feet, shaken, his surprised eyes finding hers. The younger Redfield glared at him, a silent message he understood. She had spared him a cruel fate from the Devil. But she wouldn’t do it again.

She returned her gaze to the three bodies around her feet. The one she stabbed with the corkscrew had a snapped neck. The other two looked as though they had suddenly dropped dead, nothing to attribute to the hands of the STARS Captain. But she had seen it with her own eyes. And although it shouldn’t have, it lit a fierce fire in her lower belly, spreading when his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her towards the door.

The flames were fanned when he whispered in her ear, his hand squeezing her hip. “You did exceptionally well, dear heart. You make me proud.”

When Ada told her Wesker would want to take her home after seeing her in her dress, she had denied wanting him to, denied she wanted to go home with him willingly. But after what she saw, how he held her close to him like she was his, and his alone, how his breath upon her ear titillated her, made her receptive to him only, she could no longer deny it.

Claire wouldn’t be able to stand the drive there. She wanted him. Wanted him to take her. She was a liar; it wasn’t just a one-time fling or a mistake. It was going to happen again. And she wanted it to, and would do nothing to stop it.

[merakiaes]

A Second Chance - John Shelby

Pairing: John Shelby x reader

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: None. 

Warnings/notes: This is a part two to “A Choice”. It’s not proofread and I was severely sleep-deprived when writing this so I apologize in advance if there are any mistakes or if it sucks xD 

Wordcount: 4927

Summary: Four years after leaving John and the Peaky Blinders behind to start a better life, you return to England and run into old friends. 

Part One - A Choice

Life without John was just as painful as you had imagined it to be. The nightmares about your brother’s death that only he had been able to keep at bay had returned already the first night away from him, having you wake up screaming and drenched in sweat in the middle of the night.

After leaving your shared home without as much as a bag of clothes, you had gone straight to London where Ada was residing with Karl, and she had opened up her home to you without as much as a doubt, letting you cry into her arms, listening to you as you talked about your situation and doing her absolute best to soothe you during the night.

The next day, you had sat down and talked about what you were going to do for the future. She offered to go back to Small Heath and talk to her family, get their assistance on the divorce you wanted.

But she was different than the rest of them. She was on your side, he didn’t agree with her brothers’ morals and ways to make a living.

Tommy had never liked your attitude for the business and more specifically John’s part in it, and Arthur didn’t breath without his younger brother’s consent, so you knew that that going to them for help would never be an option. 

And either way, all of them held the same belief; that no one divorced a Shelby. So Ada did the only thing she could.

She gave you some of her clothes, helped arrange your travels, gave you enough money to be able to live on wherever you ended up, until you could find yourself a job, and sent you off before John and the rest of the Peaky Blinders could come looking for you.

Ironically, they came knocking at her door only an hour after you had bid each other goodbye at the docks, John more or less storming inside the house and rushing through every room on the look for you while Tommy, Arthur and Polly tried to hold a calm conversation with Ada.

But Ada wasn’t about to give up your location, and they knew it. And they couldn’t do anything about it, because they didn’t have anything to hold against her.

All she did was tell them that you were safe, and that you were better off without the constant death and bloodshed, which only broke John’s heart even further, because even though he hadn’t been willing to admit it at the moment of your argument, he knew that she was right, and it hurt.

It hurt to know that he wasn’t good for you.

And he wasn’t the only one in pain. The nightmares of only your brother dying quickly turned into both of them dying, and sometimes, even Tommy and Arthur, too. And the dreams didn’t stop.

Even three and a half years later, you would wake up drenched in your own sweat and trembling with fear every night.

You had ended up in Australia after a long, long journey. There, you took up work as a nurse at an orphanage, managing to land yourself employment already on your first day there as the former nurse had recently passed away in very tragic circumstances.

You mourned the loss of the love of your life, even more so when you had to work with children all day, every day; children that could have been yours and his in the future.

Every time you would sign your name on a paper, your heart would break a little more, as you still carried his name seeing as you hadn’t gotten an official divorce. 

And you couldn’t be bothered to send him divorce papers, knowing very well that Tommy would most likely be able to track you to your locations by sniffing the papers like the absolute bloodhound he was.

You stayed completely miserable for six whole months, falling into a deep depression and feeling that life no longer had anything to offer as you had no one left. 

But with a bit of encouragement from your new-found friends, you pulled yourself together and sought out your own happiness, adopting two of the very children you had been caring for in the past months.

Their names were Sheryl and Henry and they were siblings.

Sheryl was a seven-year-old girl with bronzed skin and a head of big, golden curls and dimples that could make anyone melt on the spot.

They had been made orphans when their parents had passed away in sickness four years prior, but despite the unfortunate lives they held, Sheryl was one of the brightest souls you had ever met.

Henry was nine at the time, a lot paler than his younger sister and a lot more reserved and careful. 

While Sheryl never seemed to be able to sit still, always having to run around and talk to everyone she came across, Henry was quiet and loved to sit in silence and read.

He was far too mature for his age and probably smarter than you. He had an amazing way with words and wanted to become a doctor when he grew up. He was also very good with numbers, which always made you think of John.

They made your life easier, and soon, although never stopping to love John, you found yourself moving on. You packed away the jewelry you had been wearing upon first arriving in Australia, that John had gifted you throughout the years, and hid it away along with everything else that reminded you of him.

Four years had passed since you left Small Heath. Sheryl was now eleven and Henry thirteen, the three of you living an as normal life as you could get.

You had kept in contact with Ada during the first year, but after that, you had stopped receiving letters, and you guessed they just kind of forgot about you. 

But you didn’t blame them. 

You probably should have forgotten them a long time ago, too. But for some reason, despite not regretting your decision, you didn’t.

But you knew you would have been a lot more mentally damaged if you had to watch John die. So this was the best for everyone.

And you liked it in Australia. You liked the heat, the nature, the people, and most of all; the calm. Bar fights and brawls on the streets was still something you saw every once in a while, but the violence wasn’t half as bad here as it had been in Birmingham.

But you could only stand the heat and sun for so long.

Four years after your arrival, you took the kids with you and left for London, starting a new chapter in your lives.

Seeing as you hadn’t heard anything from Ada the past few years, you had no idea what she was up to these days. 

After getting settled into the inn you would be staying at for the first week in London, just until you made up your mind whether you would be staying permanently or only for a while, you headed off to Ada’s old house with the kids in tow, taking them out sight-seeing on the way.

Upon arriving, however, a woman you had never seen before opened the door, and informed you that the woman who had lived there before her had moved to America with her son a year prior.

It saddened you that you wouldn’t be able to see her and introduce her to Henry and Sheryl, but you were happy she had been able to go off into the world on her own like she had always wanted.

You could admit you were anxious to run into any of the other Shelbys, knowing you’d have to introduce them to your children, but unlike when you had first left England when the Peaky Blinders had been on everyone’s tongues, you hadn’t heard a single word about them.

It made you slightly panicked, fear that they had finally met their ruler and gotten themselves killed filling your body, but you didn’t dare ask anyone about it, scared about what you might have found out if you did.

So you just put on a brave smile, showing the kids around the capital of your home country, the three of you having a jolly good time.

You had just entered the food market, the very same one that had been there every Thursday even back when you still lived there, and Henry and Sheryl had run off to the nearby kennel to pet the puppies running around outside in a small enclosure.

While they played with the small balls of fur, you took the opportunity to stroll along the stands of food and vegetables, starting to plan dinner for the evening to come.

You collected the things you thought you would be needing and paid for them, packing them in a brown fabric bag. You turned on your heel, still fiddling with the bag in your hands, when a voice suddenly spoke from right beside you.

“(Y/N)?”

You sucked in a breath at the familiar voice speaking your name, with the same smooth tone that you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

Your heart instantly picked up speed in your chest and you breathed shakily as you slowly turned around.

“John.” You breathed, your eyes growing big with disbelief as you spotted him, your heart beating even more violently once you caught sight of him.

And he was just as shocked as you were, looking as pale as if he had just witnessed a ghost.

“(Y/N). I-“

“(Y/N)? Is that you?” Another voice joined the conversation before John had the chance to say whatever it was he had been about to say.

The shock quickly melted off and was replaced with a wide smile as a now short-haired Polly emerged from the crowd in the market.

“Polly!” You greeted her, and she smiled a smile to match your own.

“Oh! It’s so good to see you!” She said, wasting no time in taking you into a hug. 

You hugged her back, growing sad at the familiar feeling of the motherly love you had gotten from her all while knowing her niece and nephews.

As you broke apart again, she threw a look over her shoulder, waving her hand. “Boys!”

There was no doubt in your mind who she was calling for, and not even half a minute later, Tommy, Arthur and another boy you couldn’t quite recognize emerged from the crowd, as well.

Arthur was the one to spot you first, and a cheeky grin immediately spread on his face. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He cursed, shaking his head. “If it isn’t (Y/N). It’s good to see you nice and well, lass.”

“Hello, Arthur.” You chuckled, accepting the embrace he offered upon reaching you, hugging him quickly before turning to look at Tommy.

You offered him a smile and a nod of your head. “Tommy.” You acknowledged, and he tipped his head back to you, taking the cigarette out of mouth to answer.

“(Y/N). You’re looking good.”

Offering him a smile, you thanked him. “Thank you.”

You then turned to the third boy, or young man, was better suited, narrowing your eyes slightly as you scanned his freckled face, trying to find something familiar that could put a name to his person. 

And it all fell into place when you caught the small scar on the side of his lips, a smile yet again rising to your lips.

“Finn?”

The boy in question nodded his head, a faint smile pulling at his lips, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You look so different, I barely even recognized you!” You said, and met him halfway for a hug. He was now taller than all of his brothers, towering over them with a good margin.

“Yes, well, it’s been a while.” He chuckled, and you could sense immediately that he was nothing like his brothers. But then again, you had known that already when he was just a little boy.

“Four bloody years, it’s been.” Arthur jumped in, laughing slightly.

You stepped back after hugging Finn and opened your mouth to speak again, but before you could get another word out, a shy voice called out from behind you.

“Ma?”

You whipped around, turning to face Henry and Sheryl who were now standing behind you, watching the Shelbys with curious and shy eyes.

You put on a smile, turning to face them completely. “Yes, darling?”

Henry let his eyes linger on the strangers behind you for another moment, before turning to look at you with his soft, careful eyes. “Can we have some money for treats?”

Sheryl was smiling expectedly at his side, and you looked between them, shaking your head. “It’s a Wednesday and you haven’t had dinner yet.”

“Please.” Sheryl begged, pouting and looking up at you with her big eyes, while Henry just kept smiling shyly.

“Just this once?”

You let your eyes shift between them for a moment, all too aware of the Shelbys watching the scene unfold. You sighed, reaching your hand into the pocket of your coat.

“Fine, but just a small bag, yeah?” You told them, fishing out a note form your wool jacket and handing it over to Henry, who instantly lit up in a big smile.

“Yes!” Sheryl cheered, and Henry was quick to nod his head.

“Promise, thanks.” He agreed, coming up to you and leaving a hasty kiss at your cheek before running along to the candy store, Sheryl not far behind, yelling out a quick ‘hello’ at the Shelbys as they passed them.

Watching them disappear into the shop at the other side of the street, you turned back to the Shelbys, who were all looking at you with different expressions.  

“You’ve got kids.” Polly was the first one to speak, eyes wide with surprise.

You could only smile, and nod your head in confirmation. “I do.”

“They look a bit old to be yours.” Arthur was confused, glancing over to the shop inside which they had just disappeared.  

“I took them in from the orphanage I worked at in Australia.” You told them, and Arthur nodded.

“So that’s where you ended up, ey?”

“Yeah, it was a journey to say the least.” You turned sad at that, thinking back to how rough the first period away from your home and the people you loved had been. Quickly, you shook away the sadness and forced yourself to smile, trying to look your happiest.

“You’re all looking good!” You hurriedly attempted to change the subject. “How have things been going for you?”

“We legitimated the business.” Tommy joined in on the conversation for the first time so far, taking a drag out of his cigarette. “Everything we do now is legal. No underground work, no Peaky Blinders. Just… strictly, political business.”

To say you were shocked at this was a big understatement. Almost as if out of instinct, your eyes shot up to the peaky caps on their heads, and only then did you realize the razor blades were nowhere to be seen. Could they really have given up on the gangster way of life?

You could barely believe your ears.

“I’m glad it’s been going well for you.” You answered, quickly covering up your shock, but as Tommy’s words registered in your mind, your eyes automatically shifted to John, only to find he had already been looking at you with an unreadable expression.

The others watched as the two of you entered a staring competition, completely disconnecting from everything else going on around them – including them.

Polly smiled smugly, inspecting your facial expressions for a moment before hooking her arm with Finn’s. “We’ll leave you to it, then.” She said. “It was nice seeing you again, (Y/N). Come by for tea someday, and bring the little ones.”

You nodded your head, answering. “I will, thank you.”

But not once did you tear your eyes away from John’s as you spoke the words, barely even noticing the others slipping off and down the street again, leaving you to yourselves.

A heavy silence was left over the two of you, only standing there staring into each other’s eyes, completely oblivious to the people shoving their way past you left and right.

The sides of his head were still clean-shaven underneath his cap, he still dressed in the same grey suit, only much fancier and more expensive-looking than the ones he used to wear before you left.

He had a scar running over the side of his jaw, without a doubt created by some kind of blade, and unlike keeping his face clean-shaven like he always had before, he now had a short, short ginger stubble.

He looked much older than he had when you left him, despite only four years having passed, but you guessed the consuming line of work they had been involved in did that to a person.

He still looked good, though. His blue eyes were still sparkling and framed by the long, thick, dark eyelashes you had always loved so much, and his lips were still pink and full. He looked as dashing as ever, standing in front of you a new man.

“You’ve changed.”

John was the first one to break the silence, officially breaking you out of your trance.

But still, you didn’t move your eyes away from his.

“Time changes people.” You stated simply, blinking slightly.

He gave you the smallest nod, sniffling. “Suppose that’s a good thing.”

“Not necessarily, but in my case, yes, I would say so.” You answered, nodding your head too. “I feel very fortunate to be where I am today.”

He said nothing else for a brief moment, only staring at you and suddenly growing very hesitant.

“Did you ever…” He began, trailing off. He breathed in through his nose, his eyelashes fluttering a few times. “Did you ever settle down again? With someone else?”

You had expected the question, probably before he had even thought of it, and wasn’t shocked when it came. 

A sad smile rose to your lips at that, and a small sigh left your nose as you shook your head. “No one could ever compare to you, John.” You admitted in a whisper, and at your words, his demeanor faltered entirely.

“I missed you.” He said, taking a small step closer to you. “I still miss you. I never stopped. I never moved on. I tried to, a couple of times, but I couldn’t.”

“John…” You started, feeling your heart picking up speed in your chest again as you watched him come closer and closer. But you didn’t move.

“No, I’m sorry, (Y/N).” He interrupted you, shaking his head. “Everyone told me I would forget you with time but here we are four years later and I still love you like I did back then. And you’re standing here, looking more beautiful than ever, and you moved on.”

“I don’t regret leaving you.” The words came out of your lips before you could stop yourself. “You have to know that.”

Guilt filled your entire body the moment you had said it, only increasing when witnessing his face fall into one of sadness. But it was true what you said. He did have to know it.

“I know. And I understand.” He, surprisingly, agreed. “I started understanding the second I heard you had left for good. I tried to find you, I wanted to come after you and give you what you wanted, but Ada refused to tell me where you were. She said I wasn’t good for you, that you deserved better.”

The guilt started gnawing at you from the inside once more, your eyebrows knotting together. “John-“

“And she was right.” He interrupted again.

You sighed, finally breaking eye-contact and adverting your eyes to the ground as he came to a stop right in front of you. 

“John… I don’t know where you’re trying to go with this, but after all this time apart, we would never work. We didn’t back then, and we wouldn’t now.”

“You’re wrong.” He protested almost at once. “I can see why you would think that. But you’re wrong.”

You carefully brought your eyes back up to meet his, biting down on the inside of your cheeks. “I’m happy you’ve all turned your lives around for the better, I really am.” You told him quietly. “And I wish you all the very best, because you deserve nothing less. But I’ve got my own people to look after now.”

“What about me?” He asked. “I know you still love me. I know you better than you know yourself, and if you didn’t love me, you would have walked away long ago.”

“You knew me. Knew.” You corrected him. “But you said it yourself, people change.”

“You have your kids to look after, but you are my people. I want and have to look after you like you look after them, your happiness is all that matters to me.”

You took his words into consideration for a moment, wrapping your arms around yourself and squeezing your eyes shut. But you just couldn’t. Up until this point, you had been under the impression that you had suffered so much because you couldn’t live without him.

But you realized now, as you stood in front of him once again, after four whole years apart, that it was the fact that he had chosen the life as a thug over you that had hurt you the most.

“It didn’t matter back when it should have mattered.” You whispered back finally, having to squeeze your eyes shut even harder in order to keep the tears building up at bay.

Your heart was screaming at you to just grab his face in your hands and kiss him, forgive him for everything and pick everything up where you left off, but after being his second choice once, you just couldn’t trust his words.

Letting out a shaky breath, you opened your eyes and blinked a few times, trying your best to rid of the stinging tears. You looked up at him and gave him one last look.

“It was nice seeing you again, John.” You whispered. “Give Ada my love the next time you see her, yeah?”

He looked down at you, and you swallowed when you realized he was done talking, turning around without another word and starting to head for the candy shop.

Your feet felt like they were made of concrete as you walked, and your heart felt just as heavy in your heart, if not even heavier. 

You didn’t know it was possible for an already broken heart to break again, but here you were, feeling the already shattered organ splitting into a thousand pieces once again.

“(Y/N).”

You stopped in your tracks at the sound of his voice calling out your name, your breathing turning slightly shallow and your eyes growing wide.

You knew you should have probably just kept walking, gotten the kids and gotten out of there. You knew the only thing you shouldn’t have done was turn around. 

But as he called after you, stopping you from leaving like he hadn’t the first time around, you couldn’t help yourself, your body moving all on its own and turning you back around to face him.

Your eyes met his in an instant, and wordlessly, you watched as he brought his hand up to his neck, reaching inside his collar and pulling out a chain. He grabbed the front of it and gave it a tug, successfully ripping it free from around his neck.

He looked down at the piece of jewelry, fiddling with it for a moment, before holding it up, and your eyes instantly widened at the sight.

“Is that-“ You began, breathless, having to cut yourself short in surprise.

John nodded his head, holding the small ring in between his fingers, slowly walking over to you as he spoke.

“It’s been four fookin’ years since I last saw you but I still love you like I did back then.” He told you, his eyes never leaving your face, and your eyes never leaving the familiar engagement ring.

He stopped in front of you, looking down at you with pleading eyes. “Come home, please.” He begged. “Give me another chance. Give us another chance.”

“John-“

“Mom.” A voice suddenly came from beside you, and both you and John whipped your heads around to find Henry and Sheryl standing off to the side, each of them clutching a bag of sweets in their hands.

Sheryl was giggling quietly to herself, and Henry was smiling at you, giving you once of those looks only Henry could give; the kind that made him look so much older than he really was.

“The appropriate response when the love of your life is proposing to you is to say yes.” He spoke, and you instantly widened your eyes at his words, even more so when Sheryl joined in, nodding her head.

“You should kiss, too.” She said. “It’s in the rulebook.”

You furrowed your eyebrows lightly. “Rulebook?” You mumbled quietly under your breath, thinking to yourself, but didn’t get much time to actually form an answer as John spoke up again.

“You should listen to your kids, (Y/N).” He instructed you, causing you to turn back to look at him. “They might not be yours by flesh and blood but they’ve got your brains.”

You stood frozen, not knowing what do nor say. Were you really ready to rely on John’s promises of making a better living for himself again? After all, you had only bumped into each other less than five minutes ago.

You guessed you could take their word for it, but in reality, you really had no idea what they were up to nowadays. A lot could change for the better over the course of four years, but a lot could have changed for the worse, too.

Having gotten lost in your thoughts and doubts, you had completely missed the way his hands had raised to your face, only coming back to reality when feeling the warm, rough skin of his palms brush against your cheeks. 

And when the connection between your skin was made, it was like all of your doubts just melted right off in one second.

You had missed John this entire time, more so than you would ever be able to put into words, but you hadn’t realized how much you had craved his skin against yours until it actually happened again.

Your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes fluttered shut, and as if your body was moving all on its own, you wordlessly tilted your head up to meet him halfway, your lips pressing together within the next second.

And from the moment they touched, you were clinging to each other like there was no tomorrow, like the other would just disappear into thin air if you let go, four years’ worth of missed feeling spilling into one single kiss.

Your hand came up to grab at the back of his neck, fingernails lightly scratching the scalp of his head while his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

You didn’t break apart for almost a minute, lips moving together roughly and desperately. If you would have been able to, you would’ve never broken apart again, but you needed air, and soon had to do so, although very begrudgingly.

Your chests were heaving up and down violently against the other’s when you came apart, eyes opening and staring into each other’s. 

You stayed like that for a moment, forehead’s pressed together, until you turned around to look at Henry and Sheryl who were still standing to the side, now grinning like a pair of Cheshire cats.

You raised an eyebrow at the oldest at the two, taking a small step away from John. “Now, what does a thirteen-year-old know about love?” You asked, referring to his previous statement of encouragement.

At your question, his grin only widened. “You have a box labeled ‘John’ hidden at the back of your closet and you stare at it every time you open the wardrobe to pick out your clothes. I may only be thirteen but I’m not stupid.” He answered, and you could instantly feel your cheeks flushing with embarrassment as John chuckled beside you.

You didn’t get much time to dwell upon your adoptive son’s remark, however, as John grabbed a hold of your face once more, turning you back to look at him. 

“Will you come back?” He asked, looking down at you with pleading eyes.

And this time, no doubts clouded your mind, a lazy smile spreading over your lips. 

“Wouldn’t want to break the rules in the rulebook, now would we?” You questioned playfully and smiled widely as you watched him slide your wedding band back onto your finger.

He smiled, and you could just about make out the corners of his eyes starting to glisten before he wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, hugging you into his chest and burying his face in your neck, smiling into your skin.

“I have a box labeled with your name, too.” He said, voice slightly muffled.

And just like that, you went back to being lovers and remained that way this time around.  

[nineteenninety-six]

Would you every write something where Adam is a big brother/ the reader is pregnant again?

Word Count: 2477

This ended up being way longer than I expected lol. 

BIG BROTHER

It was an abnormally warm day in the middle of March and (Y/N) had managed to convince Tommy to come out for the day along with her and Adam, wanting to make the most of the warmth before it got chilly and wet again. Tommy took them to a national park about an hour away from Warwickshire and now they were slowly strolling through the park, Adam a few feet ahead of them stopping every few minutes to poke at something on the ground.

“We should do this more often. I think he’s quite lonely back in Warwickshire, I know he likes it when he’s with his cousins in Birmingham.” (Y/N) said, a smile on her face as she looked at her son. 

“He’s not gonna be by himself for long is he. He’s gonna be a big brother”

(Y/N) bit her lip as she rested her hand against her stomach, she had found out she was pregnant again a few weeks ago and spent the time since wondering how she was going to break the news to Adam.

“How do you think he’ll take it?” Her hand sought out Tommy’s, looking for comfort. 

Tommy snorted, “He’s four, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Of course it matters! I don’t want him to think he’s getting pushed out or replaced.” (Y/N) snapped back, not appreciating Tommy’s dismissive attitude.

“There’s no correct way of breaking the news to your kid that they’re gonna a big sibling, every child is different so don’t overthink it.” Tommy squeezed her hand.

(Y/N) nodded, she knew Tommy was right but she couldn’t stomach the thought of Adam being upset.

“What was it like for you? You remember when your mum was pregnant with Ada and Finn right?”

“I was seven when Ada was born and eighteen when Finn was born but we already had John by then so I was used to it. I was only five when John was born so I don’t remember much.” Tommy brought they joined hands up and kissed the back of (Y/N)’s hand, apologetic that he couldn’t help much.

“We’ll just wing it and hope for the best I guess” (Y/N) breathed out, unable to believe her own words. 

Adam finds something on the ground and picks it up before running back to his parents, desperate to share it with his parents,

“Mama! Dada! Look what I found!” The four year old had a big smile on his face, excited about what he had found.

“Mama look!” Adam lifts up his hand, showing his mother what he had picked up.

“Ahhh!” (Y/N) screeched once she saw what it was, jumping back in mix of shock and fear.

Right there in Adam’s hand was a frog and the four year old didn’t understand why his mother reacted the way she did.

“Mama look, a frog!” Adam stepped forward, determined on making his mother look at it up close.

“I see it baby but you need to put it back so it can stay with its family” (Y/N) had a nervous smile on her face, still quite a distance away from her son and the frog.

Adam had a pout on his face but jumped a few steps towards his mother, 

“You haven’t seen it mama!”

“I saw it baby but please listen to mama” (Y/N) took a step back for every step forward Adam took.

“Here, show it to dada” Tommy stepped forward, amused by (Y/N)’s reaction.

Adam beamed at Tommy, dropping the frog into his hands. Tommy whispered something in his ear, the little boy nodding and smiling at his father as he stood up with the frog still in his hand. 

“You’re not scared are you love?” Tommy crept towards her, a teasing smile on his face.

“Tommy don’t” (Y/N) voice was a warning tone in it. Her hand held up in front of her as if it would stop him.

“C’mon, it’s just a frog!” Tommy’s smile turned into a grin as he began to run towards her.

“Tommy no!” (Y/N) began running away, Tommy hot on her heels. 

The pair of them laughing and giggling as they ran across the park, Adam following after them, trying his best to keep up with his short legs, his giggles spilling as well. 

Tommy stopped chasing her after a while when he noticed her out of breath,

“Terrible! The pair of you!” (Y/N) had a smile on her face, her words light hearted.

“Go put it back near the pond but don’t get too close to the water yeah.” Tommy placed the frog back into Adam’s hands, watching carefully as Adam put the frog back, making sure not to get too close to the water like his father asked. 

“Good boy!” Tommy made to reach over and ruffle Adam’s hair but an objection from (Y/N) stopped them.

“No! Both of you need to wash your hands before you touch each other …or me” (Y/N)’s nose scrunched up as she said the last part, the idea of either of them touching her straight after handling the frog grossing her out. 

“Come on bud” Tommy led Adam to the nearby toilets and (Y/N) went to the ice cream stall, not caring that it might be too chilly to have one.

“Ice-cream!” Adam cheered as he stepped out of the bathrooms, speeding towards his mother who was juggling three ice cream cones in her hands, along with a handful of tissues in her pocket. Tommy trailed behind him, taking two of the cones when he reached them, freeing up (Y/N)’s hands.

“Let’s go sit down and mama will give you your ice cream” (Y/N) led Adam to a bench that was close by, meeting Tommy’s eyes as she did so, the man instantly understanding what was going to happen.

“Here baby” (Y/N) wrapped a napkin around the cone of the ice cream and handed it to Adam.

“Thank you mama!” Adam didn’t waste any time and dug in, his legs swinging over the edge of bench. 

After a few licks of her own ice cream (Y/N) finally spoke up,

“Adam, you know how our Katie has younger brothers and sisters…”

Adam looked up at his mother, ice cream all over his face making (Y/N) giggle as she wiped it off. 

“Yea..”

“How do you feel about having a younger brother or sister? You’ll be a big brother” 

“I’ll have lots of brothers and sisters like Katie?” Adam looked slightly confused.

“No just the one.”

Adam still looked confused so Tommy picked him up and placed him on his lap and shuffled closer to (Y/N).

“You see mama is growing a baby inside her belly and when they’re born you’re going to be a big brother”

“When?”

(Y/N) quickly did the math in her head, “They should be here in November.”

“Okay.” Adam quietly nodded and (Y/N) had a small frown on her face as she looked at him.

“C’mon let’s walk a bit more before we go home” Tommy lifted Adam off his lap and after they threw away their ice creams they continued their walk around the park, (Y/N) and Tommy walking together holding hands and Adam in front of them again.

The young boy was quiet, all the energy and excitement he had before apparently gone and it made (Y/N)’s heart hurt seeing her son so sad.

“Tommy, he’s upset.” (Y/N) pouted up at her husband. 

“He’s just processing it. Let him be for the rest of the day and then if he’s still upset we’ll talk to him.” He reasoned with her.

“Since when did you become so knowledgeable.” (Y/N) grumbled causing Tommy to laugh. 

(Y/N) listened to Tommy and left Adam alone to his thoughts despite how much she wanted to talk to him. Her gaze never left him as he played with his toy figures in front of her, Tommy back in his office. 

The rest of the day was the same, Adam being quiet and (Y/N) being overly worried. Tommy having to distract her during dinner so that she wouldn’t go over and smother him but she had a moment by herself when she was taking him to bed.

After a goodnight hug and kiss from his father Adam was tucked into his bed, (Y/N) beside him with ‘The Tale of Peter Rabbit’ in her hands, Adam’s current bedtime story.

“You’ve been quiet today sweetie, what’s wrong?” She asked him, brushing back his dark curls after she read him a few pages.

The little boy bit his lips in nervousness and looked up at his mother with wide eyes.

“It’s okay, you can tell me. You know mama won’t be mad.” (Y/N) kept running her fingers through his hair, noticing it was relaxing him.

“The baby in your belly” He reached over and softly poked her belly, “hurt mama?”

(Y/N) smiled at his concern, “No darling, the baby doesn’t hurt mama.”

Adam seemed satisfied with her answers and gave her a kiss on the cheek before snuggling back into bed, “Goodnight mama.”

“Goodnight.” After one last kiss on his forehead (Y/N) made her way out of his room and back downstairs where Tommy was waiting for her in the living room, nursing a glass of whisky. 

“How was he?”  

“Fine I guess. He asked if the baby was gonna hurt me but once I explained that it wouldn’t he seemed to be okay.” (Y/N) tucked herself under Tommy’s arm, cuddling up to him.

(Y/N) was now seven months pregnant and Tommy had made it his utmost task to make sure she was comfortable and happy, reminding her of the days when she was pregnant with Adam.

Adam had started to act a bit distant to (Y/N). He didn’t hug her which hurt her a lot but she figured that he thought he would hurt the baby if he did so and no matter how many times she had explained it was fine for him to hug her, he still didn’t. (Y/N) knew something was up with him despite what Tommy said but because Adam didn’t speak to her about it, there was very little she could do. 

It wasn’t until one night when he came to them in tears did she realise what was wrong.

Her and Tommy were laying in bed talking, something they did pretty much every night. It wasn’t too late, not yet midnight but late enough that Adam should have been fast asleep so when their bedroom door open and quiet whisper of names came through, she knew something was up.

“Mama? Dada?” Their door slowly opened.

“Adam?” (Y/N) sat up, frowning slightly.

“Mama!” Adam began to cry as he stepped into the room, “Mama! Dada!”

Tommy hopped off the bed and picked Adam up, the little boy tucking his head into his father’s neck and began to cry harder. 

“What’s wrong eh? Why you crying?” Tommy asked him as walked back to the bed.

“Bad dream.”

Tommy managed to peel Adam off him and place him in the middle of the bed, the now five year old immediately shuffling up to his mother and cuddling her.

“You had a bad dream? Do you wanna tell mama about it?”

They had waited until Adam had stopped sniffling and after his tears were wiped away, he told them about his dream.

“In dream, Mama and Dada forgot about me and they don’t love me no more!”

(Y/N) could see the tears build up in his eyes and quickly pulled him up in a hug, rocking from side to side.

“Oh baby, mama and dada won’t forget about you. We will always love you.”

Adam looked back at Tommy for reassurance and when he nodded, (Y/N) felt his little body relax. 

“Why would you think that Adam?” (Y/N) pulled him away so that he was back in the middle of the bed.

Adam quickly glanced at (Y/N)’s baby bump before he answered, “The baby.” 

“The baby?” Tommy asked

“Because you have new baby, you don’t want me no more.” Adam quietly confessed.

(Y/N) began to tear up, hating that her son felt this way and that she had no idea. 

“Adam” Tommy spoke, “Mama and Dada will always need you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” Tommy reassured him, smiling when Adam crawled over to him and hugged him.

It only took a few minutes for Adam to fall asleep, his crying wearing him out. 

“Perhaps we should try to involve him more, so he doesn’t feel so left out” (Y/N) suggested, running her fingers through his curls.

“How?” Tommy asked and all (Y/N) could do is shrug helplessly. 

The next morning Adam seemed completely fine, almost as if the night before never happened.

“Adam?”

“Hm?” He looked up from his toast.

“Dada and I were talking and we thought that you should pick a name for the baby.” (Y/N) was by herself, Tommy leaving in the early morning to go to Birmingham.

“Me?! Really?” Adam seemed excited and (YN) smiled as well. She loved seeing him so happy. 

“Yeah baby, can you do that for mama and dada?”

“Of course mama!” Adam jumped from his seat and ran over to give (Y/N) a hug. 

——————-

(Y/N) had requested for Tommy take Adam out to the stables and around town when she was giving birth, not wanting him to hear her and she was glad she did. This labour was much longer and more painful than the one she had with Adam but after almost half a day in labour her daughter finally arrived. 

She was propped up in bed, feeding her when Tommy and Adam arrived. Tommy with an excited smile on his face.

“We’ve got a daughter Tommy” (Y/N) smiled, beaming up to her husband. 

“A mini you!” Tommy laughed as he made his way over to the bed, Adam behind him.

“You want to see your little sister Adam?”

Adam excitedly nodded and Tommy pulled him up onto the bed and he carefully peered over and smiled when he saw her.

“Did you pick a name?” (Y/N) asked, kissing his forehead. Adam had kept the names he had chosen a secret over the last few months and (Y/N) couldn’t deny the nervousness she felt.

Adam nodded, “Rose. Like the ones we have in the garden.”

(Y/N) and Tommy smiled. It was perfect. 

“Rose Shelby. I think it’s perfect, well done Adam.”

“Mama says the ones outside are pretty which means that our Rosie is going to be pretty too.”

“Our Rosie. Our Rose Shelby.”

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Blue Eyes Part 12

Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.

Part 12: Ella turns her back to Birmingham and stays with Alfie. But there’s still trouble they cannot shake 

         It still surprised Alfie to wake up with Ella in bed with him. Even though it had been nearly nine weeks of the routine. He’d been counting, yes. Because every Saturday morning, when he allowed himself to stay in bed a little longer than usual, he remarked at the sight. The next day would be the ninth Saturday.

           It gave him time to notice certain things about Ella in a setting he hadn’t seen her in before.

           Without fail, she always slept on her side. So there was a fifty percent chance she would be facing him when he woke up. It was one of those mornings. Her hand wedged between her cheek and the pillow, her lips parted slightly as she slept soundly. Her dark hair had grown longer than she usually kept it. It only made sense, she said Ada or Polly usually cut her hair. They always had.

           She’d rotate between wearing her slips to bed and swiping one of Alfie’s freshly laundered shirts. He didn’t complain. He liked the way it overwhelmed her smaller frame, grazing mid-thigh, and the sleeves over her hands if she didn’t roll them up.

           Alfie didn’t complain about a lot of things those nine weeks. It was comforting to have Ella with him. It had blossomed into a strangely domestic scenario. She never left after the night they reunited. She’d simply gone to work the next day and arrived that night with most of her things.

           He didn’t even bat an eye. Because it felt right. More than anything, it was what he craved. The woman he loved always there. Becoming accustomed to her rose and honey perfume and lavender soap, the feminine scents taking a hold of his flat. She arrived home from work far earlier than he did. Sometimes he’d find her in the parlor listening to the radio or already in bed, depending on the time of night.

           Alfie would’ve loved to bury his head in the sand and accept that it was heaven. But he couldn’t. The outside world was still threatening to spill into the quiet home they kept.

           The Shelbys were still in prison and Alfie could see Ella’s hope waning with each passing day. He saw the uneasiness in her eyes. The distrust of everything around her. Her blue eyes always glancing at the quiet telephone or out the window.

           It made Alfie agitated because he couldn’t fulfill her wishes. To make sure her family was spared. The only man who had that power was being an unbearable prick and Alfie was sure he would cause bodily harm the next time their path’s crossed.

           Of course, he wouldn’t. He’d bide his time. Wait for Tommy to make a move. Because there was something the Blinder knew that Alfie didn’t. Something brewing on the horizon and only Tommy was at a high enough point to see what it was. And if it involved Tommy, it involved the entire family whether they liked it or not. That meant Ella so inevitably; Alfie would have to gear up for whatever battle. He wouldn’t let Tommy’s past fuck-ups affect her anymore.

            All he could do was try to win her trust back, even just the little bit he would allow her. Ella had doubled down on her decisions, cozying up in Camden with Alfie. But she listened. Watched. Waited for that sign that something was amiss. Anticipated the next time he would lie or betray her. Maybe he’d lead the police right back to her. Maybe he’d send her back to her brother. She loved him, enough to believe he wouldn’t do such a thing. But there was once a time she thought her own brother would never let his family go to prison.

           As the weeks passed, however, it became increasingly difficult to keep up her guard around him. Not when he was so gentle and cautious around her. With every passing day, she was reminded of why she found him so endearing.

           She’d truly laughed for the first time in what felt like ages because of him. When he scolded Cyril in Russian for snatching half a loaf of bread off the kitchen counter. But only a moment later he was sneaking the mastiff table scraps.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           They made love for the first time a few days after the seventh Saturday together.

           Alfie had returned late from work. It wasn’t strange, but Ella was anxious to see him after a long day of work. She stayed up in bed for a bit before she realized she hadn’t left out anything for Alfie to eat.

           Ella wasn’t much of a cook. Not that Alfie seemed to mind much. He often made himself breakfast as he left for work much earlier than she did. And if he did come home early enough for supper, he was more than content with whatever Ella came up with. She learned her way around a kitchen from Polly and Ada. Neither were symbols of a perfect housewife. She certainly could feed a clan of Travelers. Skinning a rabbit seemed much easier than producing grand meals from scratch. It was especially intimidating to consider cooking traditionally Jewish dishes. She thought Alfie might like the gesture, but was terrified to disappoint. How embarrassing would it be to only point out the obvious? That she would never be the Jewish wife his family expected him to have.

           She was ruminating on this occurring fear as she cut up a loaf of bread in the kitchen. Cyril stood by her side, his tail wagging expectantly.

           When the front door opened, he turned and rushed over to greet Alfie. Ella heard the man quietly greet the dog, his heavy boots joined by Cyril’s paws padding on the hallway floor.

           “El?” Alfie looked puzzled to see her still awake.

           “I didn’t really make anything for dinner I…” She turned and gasped.

           He was sporting a black eye that certainly hadn’t been there that morning. He winced, knowing he wouldn’t have been able to hide it from her even if he tried. “Don’t worry, dealt with the fucker who did it.” It was mildly pleasing to know that the man had a bag of bricks tied to his ankle and dropped into the river. Clean cut. No blood. Wasn’t exactly eye for an eye but Alfie didn’t play that way.

           Ella grabbed a cold cloth to give to him. “Put that on it.” She instructed firmly. She had nearly a lifetime’s experience with tending to black eyes both her own and her brothers’.

           “What’re you still doing up, love?” He asked, gently pressing the cloth to his bruised eye.

           “Well, I’d gone out to dinner earlier with Amelia. I completely forgot to make you anything. If you’d like, I could put something together…”

           “Ain’t your job to feed me,” He chuckled and sat down to take off his boots. “Who’da ever thought you’d become such a little domestic mouse after a couple of months?” He teased.

           Ella couldn’t help but smile and walked over to unbutton his waistcoat and kiss his forehead. “Well is Cyril going to take care of you?” She murmured back tauntingly. “Because you’ve got a black eye, love.”

           “In me own fucking house.” He shook his head and playfully grabbed the skirt of her nightgown. “Toying with me in me own house.”

           She giggled and batted his hands away. While leaving the kitchen, she glanced over her shoulder. “Eat something. I’ll draw you a bath. Or would you rather I go to bed?”      

           “Cheeky girl.” He grunted and stood up. “Go on, I’ll be up in a minute.”

           She smiled and headed upstairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           After a long soak to ease the ache in his body, Alfie dried off and walked into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Ella’s blue eyes followed him across the room as he went to rummage through the dresser.

           Maybe it was just timing, but she’d never seen him so vulnerable. Stripped of all the trappings he used to boost his stature. Never seen the tattoos that crawled over the blade of his shoulder, around the cuff, and onto his chest. Symbols, words, letters she didn’t recognize. Scars etched into several places on his body. A new one shown with every movement of his muscles. Some mildly faded nicks. Others angry and deep-set.

           It was hard to get over how beautiful he was.

           Ella stood from the bed and crossed the floor between them. Alfie heard her shy footsteps on the creaking floor and turned, a shirt in hand. He didn’t speak for a moment and neither did she. Her eyes scanned his torso as if she were cataloging every inch of it.

           Alfie’s breath hitched when she reached up and touched his chest. Her eyes found his again.

           “You’re not meant to have sex ‘fore marriage in your religion.” She clarified without much context.

           He swallowed and shook his head subtly. “No, not really.”

           Her fingertips were light against his skin. “How many women have you slept with?”

           “I uh…” He wasn’t sure what sort of answer she was looking for. But he decided sticking to the truth was ideal. Probably wouldn’t believe him if he testified he was untouched. “Didn’t keep count.”

           Her expression of curiosity didn’t falter. “I’m the last one then.”

           Alfie’s pupils blew wide. The unexpected bout of possessiveness from her was indescribable. It was like a hand reaching right into his chest and clutching at his heart. Without a second to spare, he scooped her up in his arms, hands firm on her thighs. “Ain’t ever made love before. Fucked, sure, but never made love.” He walked her to the bed, her arms and legs wrapping around him tightly. Eyes fixed on him. “So you’d be the first and last woman to claim that prize.” A smirk crossed his lips.

           “Gladly.” She murmured and kissed him without abandon.

           It was like sticking a hand into a fire without getting burned. Ella couldn’t have Alfie close enough. She needed to feel every inch of him against her. Her fingernails dug into his shoulder blades, clinging to him with every movement.

           With every flex of muscle, they stoked the fire fostered between them. At the peak, Ella cried out and buried her face into his shoulder. She was trembling so badly, Alfie was terrified he’d hurt her.

           When he regained his voice, he drew back and cupped her cheek. “You alright? Did I hurt you?”

           Ella laughed breathlessly and released her grip on him. Her fingers carded through his hair. “The complete opposite.” She captured his lips again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

           She was beautiful. Alfie couldn’t look at her without thinking that. It made his heartache when he woke up to her beside him. As each Saturday passed, he became more and more comfortable with the idea of forever. Forever having her, forever being hers. Used to be he didn’t know what forever was. That was until he found himself in her eyes.

           It was terrifying for a man like him. Someone who didn’t think he deserved forever with someone like her. But she’d firmly rooted herself in his home and his life. And he would never turn her away, not when he knew how devastatingly painful it was.

           So every morning, he kissed her forehead and whispered three words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Around the twelfth Saturday, Alfie noticed Ella was confining herself. For good reason, she hadn’t been back to Birmingham. But she didn’t roam in London. She’d been keeping herself to Camden much to his surprise. It was nice, she told him about the women she’d met including Ollie’s wife.

           He wasn’t sure if it was a tactic to try and forget her family. It didn’t seem like a healthy strategy but he wasn’t sure how to bring up the matter. Besides, she appeared happy enough. There were always the subtle hints she unwittingly gave up about her worry. But she would brush him off if he ever inquired if she was okay.

           One night, Alfie came home to the house smelling like an actual bakery. Warmth radiated from the kitchen and Ella had the radio loud enough so she could hear it from the parlor.

           He greeted Cyril while hanging his coat up. “What’s she up to then?” He asked the mastiff and followed him into the kitchen.

           Ella was humming along to the music, subtly dancing around the kitchen. She spun back and forth between the counter and the table. Her curls pinned up to accommodate for the longer length they were. She’d fashioned a small scarf into a headband to hold back any stray pieces of hair. She had what appeared to be a new apron tied around her waist and was wearing one of Alfie’s button-down shirts, the sleeves bunched up around her elbows, and a pair of loose-fitting trousers.

           Alfie smiled and snuck up behind her. She shrieked when he tickled her sides. “Alfred Solomons!” She smacked his arm. “Don’t fucking do that when I’ve got a knife in me hand!”

           He laughed and surveyed the scene in front of him. “You baking, love?” There was flour everywhere, even in Ella’s dark hair and across her cheek. The scent of bread also wafted from the oven.

           She pulled a sour face when she sensed the hint of amusement in his voice. “So what if I am?” Her hands went to her hips.

           Alfie wrapped his arms around her waist. “Didn’t think you liked baking, s’all.”

           Ella frowned and slung her arms around his neck. “Not much good at it.” She admitted. “Minnie tried teaching me. Says she’ll teach me how to make Challah.”

           “That’s nice.” He nodded and recognized the name of one of his neighbors down the street. She was one of the women Ella had befriended. “Made a fucking mess but smells good.” He brushed the flour off her cheek and tried to comb it out of her hair.

           She shrugged. “We’ll see how it turns out. Trying to be proper, I s’pose.”

           Alfie’s brow furrowed. “That what this is ‘bout?” He tilted her chin up so she couldn’t avoid eye contact. “Love, you don’t need to do all this. You’re not…” He waved a hand around to find the words. “Don’t need you to be like them.”

           “Like Minnie?”

           “Right. I know that’s not you. Don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not, right, if ya just trying to please me. Love you the way you are.”

           Ella stuck out her lower lip, her eyes flicked sheepishly away from his face. “Just thought you’d…I dunno.”

           Alfie reached around her waist to untie the apron, slipping it off and tossing it onto the flour-covered counter. He took her hand and coaxed her into the parlor where the music was loudest.

           She pouted but accepted the gesture and followed him down the hall. Her arms slipped back around him as he pulled her into a slow dance. Her cheek pressed into his shoulder.

           “Me mum, yeah, wanted me to marry a good Jewish woman. Someone to take care of the house, cook Kosher, pop out Jewish babies. If I wanted that, I would’ve tried to find someone like that long time ago, right? But I didn’t because I were looking for you, weren’t I?”

           Ella smiled slightly. “Looking for trouble? ‘Cause that’s all I am.”

           “Trouble or not, you’re fucking worth it, ain’t ya?” He grazed his lips over her temple.

           “Alfie, I’m afraid.” She admitted in a voice just loud enough to hear over the music.

           “Afraid of what, love?”

           She chewed on her lip and listened to his heartbeat for a moment before she answered. “I’m afraid of what’s to come and how it’s gonna affect us. Something’s coming, I know it is.”

           After speaking to Tommy weeks earlier, Alfie agreed with her. There certainly was something in the air. “We’ll be okay.” He murmured. “Won’t let anything happen to you, yeah?”

           “Just want to stay like this.” Uncertainty made her voice waver. “Please let it stay like this, Alfie.”

           He tightened his arms around her to comfort her. “Sh, sh, s’alright. It’ll be alright.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Every Wednesday afternoon, Ella would travel down the street to Minnie’s flat. There, she would hold tea for the friend group. The location never varied. Minnie was one of the few women in the group who didn’t have children. So the rest of the group took the afternoon as a welcomed break from the kids. Either they were in school, or they would drop them off at a relative’s house for a few hours. Sometimes, they’d bring the kids along, letting them play with toys in Minnie’s parlor while they talked in the adjoining kitchen.

           Ella adored all of the children the women had. Ollie and Elsie had four kids ranging from even to eight months. Ruth had a two-year-old daughter who was her entire world. Annie was pregnant with her first, having only just gotten married. Nora was also pregnant but with her third child, already having two young boys. And finally, Lydia, the oldest of the group, took home the prize of most children with six little ones.

           Every opportunity, Ella took to babysit. She missed her nieces and nephews, wishing she could see them again. It wasn’t their fault the family had been torn apart. She’d made note of Charlie’s birthday and had cried when she realized how long it had been since she’d seen him.

           Still, she kept her sanity despite the seemingly irredeemable loss of her family. The relationships with the Camden women and women from work helped. Along with Alfie, they reminded her that she had a choice of who her family was. Last names didn’t matter one bit.

           On Wednesdays, Ella left work early, freshened up at home and headed over to Minnie’s. Sometimes she brought along baked goods she had tried to make. It was usually just to ask Minnie what she’d done wrong because they didn’t quite taste as good as they did when they’d made the same thing together.

           She adored the small, tight-knit group of women and was grateful they had been so welcoming to her. It did help that most of them were wives of men who worked for Alfie. Some women in Camden would hardly look at Ella not because of her lack of religion, but because of her affiliation with the gangster boss.

           They were quite different from the women she’d been raised with. They were modern women in an orthodox community. Their hair was covered because of their marital status, never wore trousers, they attended temple without fail, and were devoted to their husbands. They were the kind of Jewish women that Alfie’s mother probably wanted him to marry. But times were changing and they’d secured some freedoms. Among friends, they were chatty and loved to have a good laugh. They tittered about topics that most men would deem inappropriate for women. Some even had a good deal to say about the current climate. But it was all good fun.

           They especially liked having Ella around. The Shelby girl was extremely interesting to them both because of her different upbringing and her unorthodox relationship with Alfie. The women were careful not to discuss the Shelby family. Ella had been clear that she no longer associated with them and would rather not go into too much detail about the situation. Minnie, the one closest to Ella, knew a bit more than the rest of the group. Ella had confided in her about the actions Tommy took to get her arrested. Also how her family was still facing the death sentence.

           But they did hawk her about Alfie. Most of them had known him for a very long time but only knew him as the gruff, intimidating man who had violent tendencies towards his enemies and questionable morals. None of them ever expected him to find someone to love.

~~~~~~~~~~~`

           “My mother would always steer me away from him.” Ruth wrapped her hands around the warm teacup. “You should’ve seen him before the war, El, just a troublemaker.”  

           Ella smiled and tried to imagine her Alfie as a young man. Clean-shaven, thin, always scuffed up from a fight or arrest. “Why am I not even surprised?” It was sound. Men like Alfie always got their start on the streets. All of the Shelby children did. The Italians did as well. The rejected bits of society. The bottom of the pyramid, the people the elite snubbed and continued kicking to the dirt. Most took their fate with stride. Others refused to accept it. A poor Jewish boy, a poor Irish Traveler, poor Italian immigrants. They simply kept getting up, dusting themselves off, and raising more and more hell. Louder and louder until they were impossible to ignore.

           “Such a little hellraiser.” Nora agreed. “The police all knew him by first and last name. They knew his mother’s name too.”

           “Do you remember when he came back from France?” Minnie set down a plate stacked with treats.

           “Sure, he came back the same day David did,” Nora answered. “Saw him at the train station. Something different about him, but they all changed when they were over there.” She shrugged.

           Ella nodded, her eyes glancing down at the tea in front of her. She hadn’t noticed how she was absent-mindedly stirring the tea for much longer than needed. “He never even dated anyone?” She wondered. Alfie hadn’t gone into detail about his past relationships. Neither of them had decided it was important enough to discuss. They didn’t realize that neither of them had ever held a serious relationship.

           The women chuckled in response. “There isn’t much dating here,” Elsie explained. “Usually your parents make the arrangement.”

           “Oh…” Ella tilted her head to the side. “That’s usually how gypsy clans do it too.” She admitted and thought about what Alfie had said a while back. About how her brother was ready to offer her up to another family. Maybe one of the Lees or the Youngs.

           “He’s had his good share of fine women from France.” Annie hid her smile into her teacup.

           The women laughed and Ella looked amused. The comment didn’t faze her. “Oh, I’m sure. We’ve had the discussion about our purity. Or lack thereof.”

           They all shared a sly look. “And I’m sure he’s given you the spiel that sex before marriage is never explicitly forbidden in the Torah.” Annie giggled and nudged Ella’s arm.

           Her face turned red. “Well, no he didn’t mention that specifically. Just said it wasn’t really proper.” She shrugged meekly.

           “Alfie does what he likes.” Minnie sighed and shook her head. “He always has, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he looks at you. Didn’t think he had that sort of affection for anyone.”

           It warmed Ella’s heart to think about the subtle smile he tried to hide whenever he looked her way. Minnie was right; it was damn near impossible to miss the softening of his features, the way his muscles slightly relaxed, and the fondness written in his eyes. “He is much more than his reputation. We’ve had our ups and downs…but he is a good man.” She smiled sheepishly. “I ought to think he likes me if he’s stuck around this long.”

           Ruth chuckled. “Are you mad? He’s crazy for you. Surprised he hasn’t swept you off to get married.”

           Ella tapped her heel against the leg of her chair and clicked her tongue. “Well, since I’m not Jewish…I dunno.” It was so easy to forget the clear lines of division between her and the rest of the Camden community. When they welcomed her with open arms, she could disregard their differences. But something would always pop back up to remind her. “We haven’t spoken about it since I’ve moved here.” She purposefully left out the part when Tommy tried to barter her hand for loyalty.

           Minnie rolled her eyes. “Again, the man does what he likes, love. He’s not exactly what I would call a traditional man.”

           “He’ll probably bribe Rabbi Halberg.” Lydia joked.

           They shared a laugh but Ella shook her head. “No, no, I wouldn’t want to disrespect anyone. We’ll just have to make do I suppose.”

           “His brother married a catholic girl,” Annie recalled. “Before he and Alfie went to fight in France. Actually…no, did Joseph fight in France?”

           Ruth frowned as she searched her memory. “He enlisted far sooner than Alfie did, even before the war started. He was older. I believe he was shipped further East.”

           “Perhaps. Well anyway,” Annie waved off the minor detail. “He met a nurse and married her just months after they met. Don’t believe they had much of a ceremony, just went to the court to have the marriage licensed.”

           “Oh, but what’s the fun in that?” Nora frowned. “I want to dress her up!”

           Ella laughed but cringed a little. It was a nice fantasy, dressed in white, walking down the aisle with flowers and the whole shebang. But it just didn’t seem plausible. Maybe she lost the desire when they argued about it after Tommy’s proposition. Their relationship wasn’t standard so they wouldn’t follow standard procedures. “I don’t think Alfie would want a large ceremony anyway. Besides, I never saw myself as marriage material. Minnie knows, I’m shit at cooking and I’m messier than Alfie and Cyril combined.”

           “He doesn’t want a housewife. Just a wild Shelby girl to call his own.” Nora assured her. “He’ll just want to put a massive rock on your finger and brag about you. He loves you and men in love are very foolish. They’ll act like circus clowns, flipping over backward for your affection. And when they’ve got it, they’ll do everything they can to keep you happy. Not to mention he’ll want to show off a beauty like yourself.”

           The women agreed and teased Ella over her face turning bright pink. “Like Ollie. Elsie, tell her the story.” Ruth prompted.

           Elsie grinned and shook her head. “Talk about a fool. When we met for the first time he was so nervous. I thought he was going to faint!”

           “And your father was afraid he’d made the wrong choice!”

          The women continued on, telling Ella about the first time they'd met their husbands. She smiled and laughed along with them but in the back of her mind, she wondered about what the future held for her and Alfie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Monday evening, Ella was walking home from work. Alfie wasn’t fond of the arrangement. He offered to have a car pick her up to and from work, but she brushed off his concern. She had to remind him that she’d been walking city streets on her own for a very long time, both Birmingham and London. Safe to say, she won that battle and enjoyed the walk to and from work.    

           It was nearing dusk and it was a mild night out. She was getting close to Camden Town, only a few blocks away from the flat she now called home. It was quiet out, only a few other people making the commute home as well.

           “Miss Shelby!” An unfamiliar voice from behind called her name.        

           Ella paused and turned.

           A man in a nondescript, heavy black coat and derby hat approached her. She didn’t recognize him from anywhere. Not as one of Alfie’s men or a Blinder. If Tommy were having her followed, then they wouldn’t outright address her.

           “Pardon, do I know you?” She kept her guard up, her hand subtly tucking into her coat where her small handgun was kept.

           “We haven’t met before.” He pulled out a badge to show her. “Inspector Ian Blackwell of Scotland Yard.” He introduced himself.

           “Uh-huh.” It didn’t matter whether he was actually from the Yard or pretending to be. Either way, she was wary. “Can I help you with something?”

           “I’m sure you can.” His smile was unnerving. Strangely arrogant and yet secretive. “You’re the younger sister of Arthur, Thomas, and John Shelby? The niece of Mrs. Polly Gray?” He asked.

           “I’ve no ties with my family anymore.” She replied frigidly and kept her distance from him. “I haven’t spoken to any of them in months.”

           “I’m sure you haven’t. All of them were in jail, save for Thomas.” Inspector Blackwell tucked his badge away.

           The corner of Ella’s mouth twitched as she tried to keep her surprise under wraps. “So they’ve been released?”

           “You didn’t know?”

           She wasn’t fooled. That was a tried and true Shelby response to an interrogation. Answer questions with more questions. “If they’re not in prison anymore, Inspector, then why are you so curious about them?”

           He chuckled and stepped towards her. “What about a Mr. Alfie Solomons? What do you know about him?”

           Ella leaned away from him, trying to keep her distance without stepping back. She didn’t want him to know she was uneasy in his presence. “That name is unfamiliar to me.”

           “Really?” An amused glint passed over his face. “Shouldn’t you know the name of the man you’ve been living with for months?”

           “This conversation is over, Mr. Blackwell.” She hissed and went to turn away from him.

           Before she could reach for her pistol, the much bigger man snatched her by the arm. He wrenched her towards him and tilted his head down to whisper in her ear. “I don’t like people like you, Miss Shelby. Think you’re above the law because you’re fucking a gangster. If you make this difficult for me, rest assured I’ll make you pay. Or, you can comply and I’ll spare you.”

           “Or I can shoot you square between the eyes.” She replied in a cold voice. Her blue eyes glared back at him, refusing to show him any fear. “Do you know what’ll happen after that?”

           His jaw clenched but he didn’t respond.

           “I’ll let you know.” Her eyes narrowed. “I shoot you, spray your brains all over the street, leave you to bleed out like the pig you are. No one calls the police. Instead, four men arrive after I’ve gone. Jewish men. Very honorable men. They pick you up and bring you to a bakery down the street. They cut you into pieces, remove your teeth, burn off your fingertips, and pack you up into sacks. Around midnight, they take those sacks to the cut. Weigh them down with bricks. Come morning, there isn’t a trace of you. One could argue you never even existed. Your little friends can come here and ask what happened, but no one will know. You were never here. They’ve never heard of you. Then like that you’ve disappeared.”

           “You bitch…”

           “Thing is, Mr. Blackwell, it doesn’t matter who I’m fucking. Doesn’t matter who my family is. At the end of the day, I’m just as dangerous as they are.”

           “You and your dirty gypsy kin will hang.” The inspector snarled and tightened his grip on her arm.

           “We control the ropes, inspector. We decide who hangs.”

           “Miss Shelby?” One of the young men who worked for Alfie, Ben, was walking down the street. He paused when he saw the woman being accosted by the much taller man. “What’s going on?”

           The inspector loosened his grip and Ella took the opportunity to rip away from him. “This is Scotland Yard business, none of your concern.” He snapped.

           “You’re in Camden, anything ‘round here is Alfie Solomons’s business.” Ben reached a hand towards the gun tucked in his belt. “So I suggest you move along and leave Miss Shelby alone.”

           Blackwell narrowed his eyes but took a step back to show he was surrendering, even for just a moment. “Was only asking her a few questions, I'm well within my rights.”

           Ella moved to stand closer to Ben. “Will you walk me home?” She asked him quietly. Her eyes didn’t move from the detective, making sure he didn’t make any sudden movements.

           “Of course.” Ben nodded and gave the inspector one last glance.

           “I’ll be seeing you again soon, Miss Shelby,” Blackwell said with a hint of malicious glee in his voice. Despite her threats, he gave her a smug smirk before turning to walk away.

           “C’mon, let’s get you to the bakery.” Ben touched her arm to guide her in the opposite direction. “Alfie’ll want to hear what happened right away.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Alfie was very interested in what the inspector had to say. But he flew into quite a fit before Ella had the chance to give him specifics. Once he heard that Ella had been stopped by someone from Scotland Yard, he dished out orders. Several men were set out to see if they could track down the inspector and others swept out to see if there were any other cops that were unfamiliar to the area.

           “If you find that fucker, you bring him back here so I can deal with him properly,” Alfie demanded before slamming the office door behind him.

           Ella was curled up in his leather chair, concern etched into her face. “Alfie, I didn’t mean to cause all this stir.” She said quietly. "I'm afraid I might've riled him up a little. He wasn't the only one tossing 'round threats." She admitted.

           “No, no.” He shook his head and rounded the desk. “’Nough of that, love. None of this is your fault.” He knelt down in front of her and took her hands. “Did he hurt you at all?”

           She shook her head. “No. He grabbed me but it’s nothing.” Her hand subconsciously rubbed the bruised area on her arm. “He knew about us…knew about my family. Alfie, they’ve been released from prison.”

           His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Must’ve been recent, haven’t heard anything ‘bout that.”

           “Things won’t be able to go back to normal.” Her eyes gazed off, blankly staring at the filing cabinets. “I’m glad they’re safe but…what did Tommy do to get them out of prison? Why did he arrange it all to begin with?”

           “S’pose that’s what that inspector is trying to figure out,” Alfie suggested with a slight shrug. His thumb grazed back and forth over the top of her hand, trying to calm them both down.

           “If the Yard’s questioning me then they’re questioning everyone. I bet they can’t even get to Tommy though.” She muttered. Her brother always had a tendency to avoid consequences.

           It was reasonable to assume Scotland Yard wanted to figure out what went wrong. Wanted to know how the members of the Shelby family just simply walked. But Alfie was not willing to let Tommy involve Ella in his mess again. Even if that meant keeping the Yard away from her. “I’ll handle it, love,” Alfie promised her.

           “This isn’t about you. This is Tommy’s doing, he should have to handle it. I’m sick of feeling the aftershocks of his decisions.”

           He clasped her hands in his. “This Blackwell, he mentioned me too, didn’t he?”

           Ella nodded hesitantly.

           “So then it’s ‘bout me. I’ll handle it.” He insisted firmly, holding her gaze. “El, I know that you’ve lost the trust of everyone including me. ‘N maybe I’ll never win it back. The only thing I can do is show that I’ll take care of you. ‘Cause I will. No matter what I’ll take care of you.”

           She leaned forward to hug him. “I wish I could be different for you.” Her voice broke. The fearlessness she’d shown in front of the inspector was beginning to fade. Those days, there was only one person she showed her vulnerability to. And he was holding her close.

           “Love, I don’t want you to be any different than you are right now.” He murmured.

           Ella buried her face in the crook of his neck, refusing to let go. “If I were different, your life would be so much easier.” She argued glumly.

           “If you were different, yeah, then we wouldn’t have fallen in love. Then me life would be fucking miserable, wouldn’t it?” He stroked her hair back and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Love you just the way you are and that ain’t ever going to change.”

           She whimpered a disagreement but was too tired to fight. Instead, she leaned into his arms, letting him take some of the weight from her shoulders. Her eyes closed and she honed in on his breathing.

           “Don’t worry about this, okay? I’ll take care of everything.”

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[flamehairedwritings]

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Twenty Nine

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and unprotected sex, mentions of miscarriage, hanging.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

Some scenes and dialogue have been taken from the game!

Read on AO3

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

Lay Down Your Weary Head

It may have been a shorter ride to Valentine, but it felt like aeons to Arthur.

It was terrifying, having her sat in front of him, being able to hear each pained breath she took, feel how slack her body was. Charles had found some herbs in his saddlebag that helped with the pain, but there was only so much for him and Ada to share.

“You’re all righ’, darlin’, you’re okay...” he’d murmur in her ear, and she’d just make a faint sound in response.

He didn’t want them to stop to rest, but the horses could only gallop for so long. There were too many twists and turns, too, and the last thing he wanted right now was to collide with another traveller, or have the horses stumble and break their legs. Noka was following them as well, trying to get as close as she could to her mistress which had her bumping into Charles’s horse or Titan every few minutes. He kept them to either a canter or a trot, only slowing to a walk when they crossed a rushing section of the Dakota River.

It was early afternoon when Valentine came into view, the air still bitterly cold. Mud muffled the sounds of their hooves as they cantered past a couple of homes; chickens in coops and pigs and goats in pens sounding their surprise. Titan snorted as Arthur slowed him to a brisk trot when they came to the stables and he turned him onto the main street, sweat shining on the horse’s coat. A wagon was rumbling down towards them and people were milling about, crossing from one side to the other or just ambling down it. If he’d had time to take it all in, he’d have found not much had changed from his last visit.

“’scuse me, move, please!” Arthur called tightly, ignoring the tuts and grumbles that came from people stepping aside.

They quickly silenced themselves at the sight of Ada, however. Arthur had one arm tight around her, keeping her against him, but her head had fallen forward at some point, her chin against her chest, and no one could have mistaken what state she was in. The grumblings now turned to murmurings, both concerned and curious. Arthur shut them out.

Pulling Titan to a halt outside the doctor’s office, he released the reins before, while using his forearm to keep her upright, he moved his leg behind him and dropped down from the saddle. Ada bent forward over his arm, unable to hold herself up, and all he could hear was his own breathing. Pulling her down into his arms, he adjusted his grip on her, staring down at her pale face and closed eyes.

“Ada? Ada, darlin’?” he prompted her urgently, striding towards the steps to the office.

She was breathing but it was so shallow, and it was a couple of moments before her eyes half opened, glassy. 

She seemed a thousand miles away; fading.

Swallowing hard, Arthur lifted his head as he reached the top step, his boots loud on the wooden platform, and he used a hand to awkwardly shove the door open, a bell tinkling above it signalling his entry.

“Can I get some help here?” he demanded, meeting the gaze of a bald man to his left who was rising out of his chair behind a counter, startled.

The man swiftly got over his surprise. “Yes, of course, bring her through to the back.”

As Arthur strode across the room full of neatly displayed remedies, herbs and linens, the doctor pushed open a door and quickly began issuing orders to someone as he stepped through.

“Jocelyn, warm water, please, and cloths. And bring me my instruments.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Arthur entered the small room to find a young woman with coiled black hair hurriedly pulling bowls out of a cupboard and placing them on a counter. The doctor reappeared through a metal door to the right of her, finishing tying an apron around himself before he rolled his shirt sleeves up.

“The table, please, sir.” He gestured to a rectangular wooden table in the centre of the room, a clean, white linen cloth covering it, and Arthur moved to the closest side.

He lay her down as carefully as he could, his hand sliding up to the back of her head so it wouldn’t knock against the wood. Removing it gently, he cupped her cheek and gazed at her, his heart thundering in his chest. He could hear the weak breaths she was dragging in, her eyes on the ceiling. Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat as he barely listened to the doctor talking to his assistant.

“Oh, Jocelyn, if you could attend to this gentleman, too. I’m afraid there’s not much room—”

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine. Look after her first.”

Charles’s voice registered to him, he must have been standing in the doorway behind him, but Arthur didn’t listen to them anymore as he gently stroked Ada’s cheek. It was exactly like last time; her stare, her pallor, her weakness—

“Sir? Sir?”

He lifted his head and found the doctor stood on the other side of the table, his fingers swiftly pulling the piece of John’s shirt they used to try and stem the flow away before he began unbuttoning her coat.

“What happened?”

“Uh, she got shot, I, it was an accident, she got caught up in a crossfire.”

“Has the bullet passed through?” The doctor tore the coat open, and Arthur stared at the hole in her side, blood staining the shirt around it. “Sir?”

He stuttered slightly as he heard Ada’s weak groan, the man pressing his fingers around the wound. “Uh, I-I don’t know, I didn’t check—”

“Give me a hand.”

He was about to ask with what when the doctor was suddenly gripping her left thigh and bicep and rolling her to her right, making Arthur quickly cradle the side of her head with one hand and place the other on her waist. She released a small, resistant sound at the movement and his thumb stroked at her cheek, a reassuring murmur on the tip of his tongue when the doctor released her, letting her settle on her back again.

“It hasn’t gone through, I’m gonna have to pull it out.”

Arthur stared at him, his hands frozen on his wife. She’d had a bullet in her this whole time. His eyes followed the man as he grabbed a bag from a counter and returned to the table, setting it down and pulling it open. His stomach turning at the tools that shone within, Arthur’s gaze dropped to her, and met her own. Her eyes were barely open but she was staring up at him, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

He sniffed and stroked her skin again, managing to lift a corner of his mouth. “Hey, you’re gonna be okay, all righ’, you—”

“Sir, please stand out of the way.” The doctor knocked his hand away from her waist, and shoved her shirt up, starting to cut away at the thin cotton corset that lay between him and her skin.

Clearing his throat, Arthur returned his gaze to her, but her eyes were closed now and he quickly looked to her chest. He released a breath when he saw the slow rise and fall of it. Stroking her forehead, he licked his dry lips.

“Gotta keep those beautiful eyes open, sweetheart, remember, you need to—”

A sympathetic but firm hand was placed on his arm and he blinked, lifting his head. The doctor had come around the table and was trying to push him towards the door, inclining his head at it.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to have to wait outside.”

Arthur felt fear claw its way up his throat. “What, no, I’m not leavin’ her—”

The doctor was undeterred, and strong. “Sir, please, there’s only so much room, please wait out there.”

Arthur turned his head, hoping to find Charles on his side, but he was sat on the floor in a corner, his head leaning back against the wall, eyes closed as Jocelyn quickly attended to his wound. She must have convinced him. Arthur, however, was shaking his head.

“No, I-I, I gotta be here for her, just in case—”

“Sir, please let me do my job, I can’t do it in a crowded room and you standing over, she needs space.”

The doctor had manoeuvred him to the doorway, and Arthur gripped the doorjamb, practically digging his heels in as he craned his neck to keep his eyes on her.

“Listen, you son of a bitch, I ain’t leavin’ her! I can’t—”

“We’re wasting time, sir!” The doctor’s shout startled him into sudden silence, his gaze snapping up to meet his. Sympathy was still lingering in the man’s eyes but his features were set. “She is bleedin’ to death on that table so are you gonna let me save her?”

Arthur could only, after a moment, nod, his hands slipping from the frame.

The doctor’s voice softened minutely. “Good. Now, please wait outside. We’ll call for you.”

They’ll call for me... Good or bad, they’ll call for me...

Arthur, like he was no longer in control of his body, stepped through the doorway and turned with the movement, gazing at his wife. Her hair was spread across the cloth, and from this angle he couldn’t see her face. The last thing he saw before the doctor shut the door was her arm hanging off the table, limp.

His gaze didn’t move, staring at the wood before him. He could hear his own breathing again, ragged. He could also hear the muffled sounds of the doctor moving about, his shoes scuffing against the wooden slats of the floor. The doctor was saying something, too, but again it was muffled. Probably talking about the state she was in, how bad it was, what they’d be able to do and...

He needed fresh air, he couldn’t breathe properly. Turning on his heel, he strode across the store. The door was still open and he didn’t bother to pull it shut behind him as he stepped out, the cold air slamming him in the face. He didn’t care, though; it forced him to suck in a breath that was deep enough to actually fill his lungs and clear his mind a little. He stared at a building opposite as he took in another, watching a man wipe a cloth over the windows, cleaning them. Titan, Noka and Charles’s horse were before it, too, drinking from a water trough, their tails swishing.

Arthur stepped forward until his boot dropped down onto a step, and then he went down, sitting on the edge of the top step. His knees bent, he rested his elbows on them, his gloved fingers lacing together. They slid against each other a little strangely so he glanced down at them, and found blood drying on the leather. He pulled them off and let them fall into the mud between his boots.

Fingers lacing together again, he watched a wagon rumble by, a great, grey Shire horse pulling it along idly as the driver chatted to his partner by his side. They were transporting food, it looked like, crates stacked together marked with the name of a company a few states over. His eyes followed it until it was out of sight, heading round the corner by the hotel. Somewhere, someone was hammering away at something, metal striking metal. It echoed across the small town so Arthur couldn’t place exactly where it was coming from. Maybe there was a blacksmith nearby, crafting some tools or horseshoes. 

Sat there, still, he could feel the cold creeping up on him, the coat not quite thick enough to keep him warm while stationary. And he could feel the coldness of his wedding band against his skin. He swallowed hard as his gaze dropped to the ground. Closing his eyes, he took in long, steadying breaths, just listening to the sounds of horses and people passing by.

It was a few moments before he realised someone was calling his name. His head whipping up, he found Sadie and John slowing their horses as they approached, and he could tell they were trying not to jump to conclusions at the sight of him.

“... Arthur! Are they okay?” Sliding down from his saddle, John swiftly moved to Sadie and her horse, helping her down.

Arthur gazed at the blonde woman, watching her grip at her side as she grimaced, John keeping her upright.

“Arthur?”

At John’s prompt, Arthur glanced up at him and cleared his throat. “Uh, they’re inside there. Doctor’s lookin’ after ‘em. He’s got an assistant in there so you should go in Sadie.”

She nodded, too exhausted to respond, and John helped her up the stairs and into the store.

Arthur didn’t want to look back.

He gazed at the ground, watching the ripples in the small puddles from the movement around them. He vaguely remembered he’d read in the newspaper a few days ago that it was supposed to rain. 

Well, seems they’d been righ’.

He heard someone behind him, and then John was exhaling a heavy breath as he sat down at his side. Removing his hat, he stretched his legs out as his hands rested on his thighs.

“Jesus Christ...” he sighed quietly, shaking his head a little as he gazed across the street.

Arthur’s chest tightened as his eyes darted to him. “What? You see her? How is she?”

John shook his head quickly, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t see her, a woman just came out and took Sadie in, closed the door before I could get a look in, I’m sorry.”

He nodded once, running a hand down his mouth before he returned his attention to the puddles. He felt John watching him, knowing he was probably trying to find the right thing to say whilst knowing there wasn’t. Finally, Arthur felt his hand on his back a few moments later, patting a couple of times before it was gone. It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

John then cleared his throat. “We got the Blackwater money.”

Arthur looked at him, his brow dipping. “What? It was actually there?”

The younger man opened his mouth to reply, but he didn’t get a chance to respond.

“Hey, fellers.”

Both men looked up to find a man with thick, grey hair, some former black colouring still lingering in some parts, even though he could only have been a few years older than Arthur, gazing down at them with a welcoming smile. The shining badge on his coat announced that he was the Sheriff of Valentine. 

“Hey,” John answered politely as Arthur just nodded.

The Sheriff nodded towards the doctor’s office, one hand on his hip. “Seems like there’s been quite a commotion. What happened?”

"Well, commotion is the word for it,” was all John said, trying to think of what the hell to say without revealing too much.

“That so?” The Sheriff looked between them. “Who wants to come down to my office and tell me all about it?”

“I will.” John was already making to rise, but Arthur lifted a hand, shaking his head.

“Nah, I will. Can’t just sit here waitin’.”

“Well, all right.” The Sheriff’s smile returned as Arthur dropped his hand, and took a step back.

Getting to his feet, Arthur brushed his hands against his coat before looking down at John. “Come get me if...”

He couldn’t finish the sentence, his lips pausing.

John nodded quickly. “I will.”

John watched the Sheriff gesture for Arthur to lead the way, his gaze darting over the man’s red bandanna tied around his neck, grey coat, black hat, and the shining silver caps on his boots. He seemed a fancy feller, though his smile wasn’t disingenuous. He looked to Arthur, seeing the slump in his broad shoulders, the slight bow of his head. 

Christ...

Running his fingers over his mouth, he leaned his elbows on his knees and watched them head down the street towards the jail, praying to whoever was listening that Arthur came out of there.

—

The Sheriff, who'd introduced himself as Daniel, held the door open for Arthur and let him pass through first. Stepping into the small building, Arthur found it comprised of a few, vacant jail cells, in fact the entire place was empty, and just enough space left for a fireplace, a board covered with posters and a simple desk. The door closed and Daniel rounded the desk, taking a seat behind it as he gestured at a wooden chair before it for Arthur to do the same. He obeyed, removing his hat and holding it between his hands. Daniel removed his, too, tossing it onto his desk and running a hand through his hair as he leaned back.

“Can I get you anythin’ to drink, uh...?”

“Arthur,” he offered, though nothing more. Yes, it had been some years since he’d been in Valentine, not since he’d robbed the bank with Karen, Bill and Lenny in fact, but the reputation and story of the Van der Linde Gang had lingered long after the night on the mountain. One of the last things he wanted right now was to be thrown into a jail cell. “And no, thank you.”

Sheriff Daniel nodded as he raised a hand. “All right. So, what happened, Arthur?”

He hadn’t planned much by way of explanation. In fact, nothing.

“We got attacked, up near Mount Hagen.”

“Hagen?” Daniel’s jaw moved slightly as his brow dipped. Lifting his chin, he called out, “Hey, Dale?”

A short man they’d passed on the porch opened the door, leaning his head in. “Sir?”

“Ain’t Mount Hagen were that Micah Bell feller is?”

“Some folks say, sir.”

“All right...” He paused for a moment, glancing at Arthur as he rubbed at his eyebrow with his thumb before looking back to Dale. “Hey, see where Benny is, you two might be ridin’ out there later.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

As Dale closed the door, Daniel returned his gaze to Arthur, clearing his throat. 

“I saw Sadie Adler go in the doctor’s office. She’s caught a few bounties for me before, and Micah Bell has a mighty reward. Is that what you were doin’ up there?”

“Nah. We’re all just old friends of Sadie’s, catchin’ up and passin’ by there.”

He couldn’t tell if Daniel believed him, and he didn’t care.

“They attack you and your friends, then?”

“Someone did, a group of ‘em. Sadie got stabbed, our friend Charles got shot as did my...” He paused for a moment. ”... my wife.”

Daniel watched him, his lips pressing together slightly with sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that. Wallace is a hell of a doctor, though. Came all the way down here from Boston, I made sure he was right for the job myself. She’s in good hands.”

It should have been nice, hearing such reassurance from a stranger, but Arthur just nodded, hoping the interrogation would continue so he didn’t have to think.

The Sheriff seemed to sense his mood, and did what he thought was best.

Leaning forward, he settled his forearms on the desk, fingers lacing together. “Listen, uh, head on down to the saloon, tell Jackie there I sent ya. Get yourself a hot meal and a strong drink. We can talk more later.”

Arthur nodded again, and Daniel mistook his disappointment for weariness. “Thank you, sir.”

He smiled warmly, hoping it would reassure the man. “No problem at all. You’ll be safe here, I guarantee it.”

“Thank you, Sheriff.” Placing his hat on his head, Arthur stood with a slight nod and moved to the door.

Daniel dropped his gaze after a few moments, opening a drawer of his desk and pulling a sheet of paper and a pen out. He’d have to write a letter to Christopher over in Strawberry, see if he’d heard anything about the outlaw who’d given him a tremendous amount of grief a couple of months back, maybe he’d— 

“Hey...”

Daniel looked up, surprised, and found Arthur hesitating, half out of the door, his hand resting on the handle.

“Don’t send y’boys out to Hagen. They ain’t gonna find nothin’, just be a waste of time.”

He didn’t give Daniel a chance to respond, pulling the door closed behind him. The Sheriff watched through the window as the sombre, weary man headed back down the street, his shoulders heavy with the weight of the unimaginable. Scratching at his jaw, he sat back in his chair, turning the words over in his mind.

He should’ve stopped him, questioned him more.

When Sadie Adler was involved, there was always trouble, and with a group their size and the wounds they’d sustained... it all seemed too coincidental. How had they gotten away, even? Yet Arthur’s grief was very much real, though, and they didn’t seem like bad people. Hell, Sadie was one of the best he’d ever met, he couldn’t imagine she’d hang around with unsavoury folk; she could barely tolerate people as it was. Tapping a finger against the armrest of his chair, Daniel’s gaze shifted to one of the wanted posters on the wall opposite him.

‘WANTED: MICAH BELL, FOR MURDER, THEFT, ASSAULT, ARSON, PROPERTY DAMAGE, KIDNAPPING, DISTURBING THE PEACE. REWARD $200 DEAD OR ALIVE’

The paper was worn despite it only having been up for three months, the bounty having gone up then. Many bounty hunters came and went, all of them studying the drawing of the man before boldly declaring, oh, don’t you worry, Sheriff Dan, I’ll get him. They either never returned, dead or embarrassed, or they came trailing in, mournful and ashamed, looking for consolation.

If her friends were even half as good as her, hell, Sadie Adler could well have finally put him down.

The door opened and Dale stepped in, pushing his hat back on his head slightly. “Sir? Found Benny, you want us to head out to Hagen?”

Daniel’s jaw moved as he glanced back at the poster.

“... Yeah. Take Carl, too, if he’s around. Take plenty of ammunition with you. And come to me before y’all go.”

“Yes, boss.”

He had half a mind to go with them, but... No. He wanted to keep an eye on the wounded group, make sure they were okay... Make sure she was okay.

—

Arthur moved across the boards that lay before the buildings, giving an automatic, barely-there smile whenever he’d accidentally meet someone’s gaze. They’d only been there ten minutes but people were already giving sympathetic nods and smiles; word had spread around the small town.

No doubt how the Sheriff had heard of their arrival, then again they had, as he’d said, caused quite a commotion. He should have been kicking himself for his departing words, but he’d said them to genuinely tell the man not to waste his time, not as a warning. He didn’t know how Daniel would react to it, and he didn’t much care. He guessed his boys wouldn’t fancy hiking all the way up the mountain just to see if he was telling the truth.

John raised his eyebrows as he approached, still sat on the step. “That was fast. Everythin’ okay?”

“Yeah. Offered me a free meal.”

John raised his eyebrows even higher as Arthur returned to his seat beside him, one leg stretched out. “You didn’t take it?”

“Not hungry. Tell me ‘bout that money.”

The younger man knew when not to press. Raising a hand, he shrugged. “It was really there, in a chest. I don’t know when they must have gone back and got it but there was a hell of a lot there. Gold bars, bills, coins, some additions, too, that they must have added like jewels and that. Got it all into saddlebags and then came after you as quickly as we could.” He gave a lopsided smile as he looked at him. “Guess you can build that stable now.”

Arthur was gazing across the street, nodding slightly. “Guess so.”

He’d wanted to be distracted and it hadn’t worked, John could see that, and they both knew nothing would. John chewed at his lower lip, trying to find the right words to say again.

“... She’s gonna be okay.”

Arthur released a long, almost faintly exasperated sigh, the sound catching in his throat slightly.

“And what if she’s not, John. Feel like my...” His teeth dragged over his lower lip as his hand lifted slightly. “Feel like my fuckin’ heart’s torn in two.” He swallowed hard, and John realised he was hesitating about something. “... Y’know when she, uh... When she gave birth to Millie, it was bad.” He was shaking his head, his jaw moving. “Thought I was gonna fuckin’ lose her. When I was bringin’ her down from the mountain that’s all I could fuckin’ think about, and... and now...” He drew in a shaking breath, meeting John’s gaze for the briefest of moments. “... She’s lost a lot of blood, John. That weren’t a short journey.”

“She’s gonna be okay—”

“You didn’t see her. She couldn’t hear me, she wasn’t there. And I can’t go in there to see how she’s doin’ ‘cause the doctor’s gotta do his work but I can’t just sit out here thinkin’ about all the pain she’s in ‘cause of my fuckin’ mistake, my stupid, fuckin’ mistake that shouldn’t have happened, I should have fuckin’ known, and I don’t think I even can see her like that again, in all that pain again but now it’s ‘cause of my doin’, I just don’t think I can, I’m a fuckin’ coward, I know it, I’ll fuckin’ say it, but I can’t, and I don’t, I don’t know what I’m gonna do if I lose her, I can’t fuckin’, I can’t live without her, John, I fuckin’ can’t.”

He wiped harshly at his cheek, a tear having escaped, before he blew out a shaking breath as he covered his eyes with his hand, his head tilted down.

John watched him, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. A few moments later, Arthur felt his hand return to his back.

“You ain’t a coward, Arthur.”

John thought it wasn’t much by way of consolation, but to Arthur it was enough. A small enough, but enough. Nodding minutely, he took in a few slow, deep breaths. John’s hand moved slightly, giving a small rub, and it was another small enough. 

Wiping at his eyes, he sniffed and lifted his head, glancing at John a moment later.

“You should get yourself somethin’ to eat. Take up that free meal for me.”

Lowering his hand, John gave a faint smile as he shook his head, lacing his fingers together, elbows on his knees. “Nah, I’m okay. I ain’t too hungry neither.”

“I am.”

Both their heads turned sharply, finding Charles stepping out onto the porch behind them. He looked weary but in one piece, his wounded shoulder rather rigid.

“Hey, Charles, y—”

“Are you okay—”

He waved off their concerns, nodding as he approached and lowered himself down to sit on the other side of Arthur with a slight groan.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Got stitched up and a dressing over it, I’ll be fine.”

“That’s good.” Arthur’s teeth grazed over his lower lip as he paused, watching Charles settle his forearm on his leg to take the strain off his shoulder. “... Is... Is Ada okay?”

Charles met his gaze and did what Arthur had feared; hesitated. 

“Uh... I didn’t get much of a look but... Yeah, he’s... He’s doing everythin’ he can.”

Arthur stared at him, trying to shove down the urge to yell, ‘What the hell does that mean?!’ 

“How’s Sadie?”

Charles held Arthur’s gaze for moment longer, apologetically, before it shifted to John.

“I don’t know either. She’s bein’ treated in the doctor’s personal rooms ‘cause there isn’t any space, the assistant, Jocelyn, is lookin’ after her.”

John nodded quietly, the pads of his thumbs tapping together, and looked away, gazing across the street. Arthur had done the same, staring at the muddy ground at their feet, silent.

Charles looked between them.

He didn’t want to tell them, would never tell them, probably, that he had heard Sadie cursing up a storm and crying out, all the while refusing morphine, insisting she was fine, and that Ada hadn’t made a sound and hadn’t moved, eyes closed, lips parted as the doctor wiped and wiped the blood away, murmuring to himself as he tried to find the bullet.

Sniffing, he joined them in their silence, watching people go by. He wasn’t hungry anymore.

The citizens of Valentine tried to subtly look them over, some others being not so shy about it. No one came to talk to them but they lowered their voices as they went by, murmuring to one another about what might have happened, curious and speculative in a way that verged on disrespectful. The three men tried not to pay attention, thinking of nothing and everything.

Time ticked by silently.

Arthur was contemplating whether to just get that meal to have something to do, when the sound of shoes and a throat clearing came from behind them. He was the fastest to turn, followed by John, and then Charles, who was leaning against a wooden post. In fact at seeing the doctor, Wallace, approach, he shot up to his feet, lips parting as he stared at him, trying to assess his unreadable expression in the same moment he took in his hands wiping on his bloodied apron. John got to his feet, too, while Charles remained seated, all of them still silent.

Wallace pressed his lips together as he dropped his hands, fixing his gaze on Arthur. “Well, sir, I’ve done what I can for your wife. I got the bullet out but she has lost some amount of blood. If she makes it to the evening, though, and there isn’t an infection, then I’ll take that as a good sign, but we may not be out of the woods yet. I’ll keep a close eye on her as I may need to do a transfusion if she deteriorates in the next hour or so.” He looked between them all now. “Your friend, Sadie Adler, is weakened but conscious. They both need rest, gentlemen, and you all do, too. I recommend you get yourselves some rooms across the way there, I can send Jocelyn for you if anythin’ changes.” His attention returned to Arthur. “I gave your wife some morphine so she won’t have felt any pain during it, and she’ll also probably not wake for a while.”

Arthur stared at him, feeling hollow. “Can I...” He had to pause to clear his throat. “Can I see her?”

Wallace nodded, stepping aside. “Of course.”

“Thank you... Thank you, Doctor.” As Arthur passed him, he placed a grateful hand on his shoulder for the briefest of moments before he was striding across the store.

  The door to the backroom was ajar and, as he pushed it open, he stilled, hand pausing on the wood.

She was like stone on the table.

Swallowing hard, he took a couple of steps closer until his finger tips touched the table as he stood by the side of it, and he gazed down at her.

She was paler than she’d been from the cold of the mountain. Eyes closed, lips parted, her hands now folded neatly on her torso, her bloodied shirt settled back in its place. His fingers twitched, hesitating, before he raised his hand and lifted her shirt a few inches. The corset had been cut away, leaving room for the clean bandaging that was now wrapped around her stomach; he could see no sign of the wound. Lowering the shirt, his gaze travelled back up to her face. Mercifully, he could see her breathing, could see, clearly, that she was asleep, though her breaths... They were so faint that he found himself staring at her chest to see if she really was.

After a minute or so, his hand went to her cheek, cupping it gently as his thumb stroked across her skin slowly.

He didn’t realise he was crying until a tear dropped from his cheek and landed on his arm. Sniffing, he pressed his lips together, his teeth gritting. His finger tips brushed against her neck lightly, pausing for a few moments to feel her pulse. There, beating gently. Sniffing again, he released a breath.

“Awh, hell... You ain’t leavin’ me, woman...” he murmured, his voice cracking roughly.

Lowering his head, tears stung at his eyes as he kissed her forehead, her temple, cheeks, lips, chin...

Resting his forehead against her own, he closed his eyes, just holding still. 

He only straightened when he heard footsteps in the other room.

“Arthur?”

Wiping at his cheeks, he swallowed but didn’t turn at John’s voice, his hand settling over Ada’s.

“Yeah.”

“Uh, Charles has got us some rooms.” He was standing in the doorway behind him, voice quiet. “I’m gonna take Sadie over. You need anythin’?”

“Nah, thanks.”

“Sure.” John was silent for a few moments. “The doc’ says he’ll be in in a second to check on her.”

“All righ’.” Looking over his shoulder, Arthur gave him a faint, grateful smile, and the younger man nodded, returning it.

John watched as Arthur turned away, his attention returning to his wife, and his own gaze dropped, too. He held such great affection for Ada, he loved her, in fact, would forever be indebted to her for all that she’d done and for making Arthur happy. They’d all only just got each other back and now here they were... 

She looked like such a shell of herself on that table.

Looking away, he crossed the small, claustrophobic room to the doctor’s private chambers, pushing the heavy metal door open. Entering, he found Sadie sat on a similar table, except all around her were the signs and ornaments of life; photographs on walls, notebooks on counters, thick lace curtains covering windows, cushions on the floor from where chairs had been hastily shoved aside. The woman herself sat with her head bowed, eyes closed, hand resting on her side over her coat where her bandaged wound was. She lifted her head at the creaking of the door, and raised her eyebrows.

“‘bout damn time. Are we gettin’ out of here?”

John shook his head as he closed the door behind him, wanting to give Arthur some privacy. “Uh, nah, not yet.”

She stilled, studying him, her throat bobbing. “... She’s okay, right?”

He nodded quickly, holding his hat between his hands. “Yeah, yeah, she’s, uh, she’s okay. Doc’ says she ain’t out of the woods just yet, but she’s okay. We just gotta wait until tonight to see.”

“Okay.” Sadie inhaled a long breath before she slid off the table with a wince.

He was instantly by her side, an arm around her waist, pulling one of hers over his shoulder.

“Where we goin’, then?” she asked quietly as he helped her towards the door.

“We got some rooms at the hotel across the way. Charles is waitin’ there. We were thinkin’ about gettin’ somethin’ to eat, too, at the saloon.”

It was disconcerting, talking about such basic needs to take care of while they were waiting to find out if their friend was going to live or die.

They paused to allow him to open the door and, passing through, they paused again, John finding Arthur hadn’t moved, Sadie finding her friend lying motionless on the same table. Arthur turned again, giving Sadie the same small smile he’d given John as he met her gaze.

“Hey, Sadie, glad to see you’re okay.”

This was the moment, out of all the wonderful and terrible moments in the past week, that made Sadie want to just sit down and weep. She knew what Arthur was going through, what else he might have to endure, and it broke her heart.

Managing an easy smile, she blinked to clear her vision, relieved her voice held. “Thanks. Feel like shit.”

He gave an almost automatic, exhaled laugh, nodding. “Hm. Get some rest, won’t you.”

“Yeah. You try to, too.”

“Yeah.”

They both knew he wouldn’t. It was Sadie who moved first out of her and John, wanting to be out of that room before her chest caved in.

John didn’t say a word, and she was most grateful for it. She was grateful for the sounds of Valentine, too, as they crossed the store, for the signs of a world carrying on, regardless, regardless. Stepping out onto the boards and into the crisp, fresh air, she inhaled it deep into her lungs, forgetting for a moment she was wounded. Her stomach expanding with the breath pulled at the stitches, and her exhale was slightly hissed. John knew better than to make a comment. They moved down the steps into the mud, and her gaze travelled the street as she let John guide her towards the hotel though she could have done the journey with her eyes closed.

People were watching, staring, really, but as always she didn’t care. They always did when she came into town, whispering to each other all kinds of things. Sadie Adler, the female bounty hunter, who only came into town when trouble was around, and was more often than not covered in blood, her own and someone else’s. 

A frequent watcher met her gaze.

Sheriff Daniel was stood outside his office, hands on his hips, back straight, listening to what Doctor Wallace was telling him. He held her gaze for longer than necessary, though she was doing the exact same. He only looked away when Wallace seemed to bring their conversation to an end, smiling, ever the polite lawman.

Moving up the steps to the hotel, Charles waited for them inside, keys held in his hands. They just followed him up the stairs silently, hearts heavy.

—

John had pulled the door closed behind them as they’d left, and the room was now quiet.

He didn’t move and the room stayed quiet until the door opened again a few minutes later, though Arthur wasn’t aware of time. 

“Sir.”

Arthur blinked and turned quickly at the doctor’s voice, his hand staying on Ada’s.

“Doc’, hey.”

Wallace, still wearing the horrible, bloodied apron, came around to the other side of the table. Arthur watched him intently as he lifted her shirt and inspected the wound dressing, his fingers lightly pressing over it. He then lifted one of her hands, checking her pulse at her wrist, before carefully setting it and the shirt back in place. The back of his hand then went to her forehead, resting against it. As his hand came away, Arthur cleared his throat.

“How is she?”

“Fine.” Wallace rested his hands on the table, only to raise one after a moment to gesture at her torso. “She hasn’t bled through the stitches or dressing. No sign of a fever yet, either. It’s going to take some time for her to get her full strength back, though, if she makes it through the night.”

Arthur looked to him sharply, his jaw tensing.

Wallace pressed his lips together. “I’m a doctor, sir, I would be doing you a disservice if I wasn’t honest.”

Arthur’s eyebrows raised a fraction as he exhaled a breath. “I don’t know whether to thank you or hit you.”

The doctor surprised him with a light, brief smile. “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that, sir.” Straightening, he wiped his hands on a clean section of his apron. “I assume you want to stay, and I won’t make you leave this time. I’ll check up on her every hour, though of course notify me if you believe anything is wrong.”

“Sure...” Arthur nodded, exhaling another breath as his shoulders dropped. “Thank you, again.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

“Arthur, please.”

“All right, Arthur.” Moving away from the table, Wallace finally untied his apron. “I’ll bring you a chair. Do you want something to eat?”

“No, thank you.”

Arthur was already holding her hand again, his thumb brushing back and forth over her knuckles. When Wallace brought him a chair, he gave his thanks once more and pulled it close to the table, sitting down and removing his hat, dropping it on the floor. 

He held her hand as his gaze went from her features to her torso and to the window opposite him over the next few hours. The small window gave no view to occupy him, just displayed the side of the next building. The lace of the curtain that covered it was thick enough that he wouldn’t have been able to see much anyway, just making out the shapes of people who occasionally passed and the colours of their coats. Charles came by to give him the key to a room for him, just in case. He didn’t stay long, just gazed down at Ada and patted Arthur comfortingly on the back.

Wallace came three times, every hour as promised, and the only change was that she was warmer, though he couldn’t confirm if it was a fever yet. However, as there was no fire in the room and all Arthur had found to put over her was her coat, he told him it was most likely one would occur, and while it was common, it would depend on how strong her body was for her to fight it.

When he left, Arthur turned his words over in his mind, his free hand rubbing across his brow. There were medicines and herbs of course, Wallace had reassured him on that which he already knew, but... This wasn’t the kind of sickness she usually caught in the winter, come from nowhere to attack her healthy, strong body. She was weak, and this could be the final straw.

He wiped at his eyes, feeling so utterly useless and helpless. He’d tried so hard not to think about her but... Millie was at home, waiting for them. Waiting for her Ma and Pa to come home and be there always, the illusion and safety of innocence not yet shattered. He held both of his wife’s hands tightly, his elbows on the table, eyes shining.

“You ain’t goin’ anywhere...” he murmured, not realising he was talking out loud. “... You ain’t leavin’ me... You ain’t goin...”

He closed his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing because he could feel the panic coming again. Deep breath in, deep breath out, deep breath in, deep breath out...

A sound startled him, making his eyes snap open and his head shoot up. The first thing his gaze landed on was the window and he found it was suddenly dark outside—

Ah, shit...

He’d fallen asleep. It must have been someone outside passing by who had roused him—

“Arthur?”

His eyes darted to her at the quiet voice, and met her gaze. His breath catching in his throat, his hands found hers again and gripped them as he leaned forward.

“Oh, I’m here, sweetheart, I’m here...”

Ada gazed at him, eyes not quite fully open, shaking faintly and sweating, still pale, but her thumb brushed against his skin slightly. 

“Is everyone okay?”

He could have wept.

Nodding, one hand moved to stroke her forehead and hair as he managed a smile, his heart aching. “Yeah, they’re all fine, darlin’, everyone’s okay.”

“Good.” She was obviously too exhausted to say more than a few words at a time. 

Wetting his dry lips, he continued to gently stroke her hair. “Are you okay?”

“Feel a little strange.”

“That might be the morphine wearin’ off. Do you feel warm?”

She shook her head slightly. “Cold.”

Shit. 

Her forehead was warm, very warm. He managed another smile as he stroked her cheek.

“All righ’, I’ll just go and get the Doc’, tell ‘im—”

“Don’t go.”

The flash of panic in her eyes sent a knife through his heart. He instantly tightened his grip on her hands and resumed stroking her hair, nodding a few times.

“Okay, sweetheart, I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

He watched her swallow thickly, tears now suddenly filling her eyes. Lifting one of her hands, he pressed a kiss to the back of it, a tear of his own sliding down his nose as he blinked. Meeting her gaze again, he managed another, faint smile, hoping to God his voice wouldn’t crack.

“I love you, Ada.”

It seemed to be both the best and the worst thing to say in that moment as her features crumbled slightly and she released a shaking breath.

“I love you, too.”

Sniffing, he clenched his jaw, trying to keep anymore tears at bay. “I thought... I thought I was gunna lose you, darlin’, I thought you were gonna...”

He couldn’t finish.

She nodded, fingers curling around his. “I thought I did, I...” A quiet sound escaped her, almost a sob. “... want to go home, I want to see Millie...”

He didn’t think his heart could have broken anymore. “I know, my love, I do, too. You gotta rest a little more, though.”

Ada was shaking her head before he’d even finished. “I don’t want to be here, I want to go home.”

“I know, I know...” He stroked her forehead, feeling it burn beneath his hand. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tilted his head, somehow summoning up a light smile. “Get some more rest, all righ’, I’ll talk with the Doc’, figure somethin’ out, okay?”

She just nodded, too tired to say anymore or argue. He watched her close her eyes, a short flash of panic racing through him with a prayer that she would open them again. Pressing another kiss to her hand, he then rose, his chair quietly scraping back against the wood. Wiping at his eyes, he finally released her hands and turned away, moving to the wooden door. 

He’d assumed the doctor would be behind the counter and he was right, the man reading a newspaper by candlelight. He set it down when Arthur entered, leaning back in his chair.

“Hello, Arthur. Everything all right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Arthur closed the door behind him and took a few more steps into the room, nearing him as he ran a hand through his hair. “She’s woken up.”

Wallace nodded as a smile pulled at his lips. “Has she? That’s wonderful. I’ll come in and—”

“Uh, actually, before you do...” Arthur interrupted him quietly, taking another step closer. “... I was just... Can I... Is it okay if I take her across to the hotel? It ain’t exactly comfortable on that table and she doesn’t want to be in there.”

The doctor pressed his lips together. “... The move might pain her, but... Yes, I can see the advantages of it as she does need comfortable rest. I don’t have anything that could be used to transport her over so you would have to carry her, which, as I said, might pain her. I don’t want the stitches to tear, either... You would have to be very careful.”

Arthur nodded quickly. “I would be.”

He regarded him for a moment, before nodding. “I’ll allow it.”

Arthur guessed he probably looked at relieved as he felt. “Thank you, Doc’.” He was about to turn away when he decided to take a chance. Licking his lips, he raised his hands slightly. “She wants to go home but I imagine you ain’t gonna allow that.”

Wallace tilted his head, raising his eyebrows. “No, I’m not. Not for a few days, at the very least.”

“Yeah, I thought as much.”

He hoped that this compromise would be enough for Ada, for now. He really didn’t want her getting upset or melancholy, not right now when she so needed rest.

She did open her eyes when he returned and even smiled faintly when he told her what was going to happen which cheered him more than he had thought. Yet he could see she wasn’t quite there, wasn’t quite herself... and there was still the actual moving part to happen. Wallace instructed him on how to carry her, that if any bleeding came through the bandaging he was to come for him immediately, and handed him a tonic to give her half of before he carried her, and another bottle of milky liquid for the potential fever. Arthur listened intently and assured him once again that he would be careful. Wallace didn’t doubt him.

Arthur helped Ada to drink a little of both of the tonics, and she winced at their bitter taste as he settled her coat more tightly around her. Then, it was time.

As carefully as he possibly could, he slid his arms under her and lifted her. Just like he’d been told to, he held her so her right side was against him, meaning her wound wouldn’t be disturbed. Still, it wasn’t comfortable. As he carried her through the store and out into the street, he glanced down at her every few moments and caught her pained winces, being too weak to hide them. Her eyes were closed, too, and he wished he could move faster.

Approaching the hotel, he encountered Sheriff Daniel exiting, placing his hat on his head. The lawman smiled warmly before his gaze dropped to Ada, and it faded.

“Can I offer my assistance, Arthur?”

“It’s okay, Sheriff, thank you.”

He thanked him once again as he held the door open for him, before nodding at the owner who’d obviously been told what had happened and just nodded back with a sense of familiarity and sympathy. Carrying her up the stairs was the hardest part. He felt her hand on the back of his coat, gripping it as tight as she could in her condition, and his stomach twisted. Small, strained sounds would escape her and he’d murmur apologies and soothing words.

Finally reaching the top, he moved down the narrow corridor to their room. It was unlocked, as Charles had said, and it only took a couple of moments for him to shift his hand and turn the door knob to push it open. It was a small room, but certainly bigger than the one she’d just been in. There were two windows, one opposite a warm fire and the other by the neatly made bed. There was a mirror in another corner, two chest of drawers against a wall, and a thin rug on the floor. He took her straight to the bed, laying her down as gently as he could but she still hissed in a breath. 

Once she was down, though, he pulled his arms out from under her carefully and lifted the coat from her. Draping it over the railing at the foot of the bed, he then lifted her shirt and, mercifully, found no blood had seeped through her bandages. Covering it again, he smiled as he met her gaze and pulled a blanket up over her.

“There, that okay?”

She nodded, and the move had obviously taken what little energy she’d had left out of her. “Yeah. Better.”

“Good.”

Stroking her cheek, he then moved to the door, closed and locked it, before setting the key on the closest chest of drawers. Pulling his boots off, he let them drop to the floor, leaving them where they lay. After inspecting the fire and adding a few more logs, he pulled the curtains closed and returned to her, unbuttoning his coat. She’d watched him the whole time, though he could tell it was some effort to keep her eyes open.

“Yeah, there we go...” he murmured as he left his coat and gun belt on the floor and carefully moved over her, settling by her side. “... Got a warm fire, soft bed, warm and soft husband...”

She smiled faintly, her hands settling on the arm he lay across her hips. It faded nearly instantly though as her head turned to him.

“I want to go home tomorrow, Arthur.”

He made his own light smile linger, his thumb rubbing over her hip, feeling the edge of the bandaging. “I know, darlin’. Let’s get some rest, though, huh, and we’ll talk about it in the mornin’.”

Again, she was too tired to argue. When her eyes closed, he pressed a kiss to her burning temple, feeling the sweat that covered her skin, and kept his gaze on her, swallowing.

Make it through, make it through, make it through...

— 

He was dragged from his sleep by the sounds of retching and nails digging into his arm. 

His eyes snapping open, he found her bent over the side of the bed, throwing up the little that was in her stomach into the chamber pot.

“Shit, darlin’...”

One arm quickly went around her to stop her from falling off the bed as the other held her hair back as best as he could. She only retched a few more times, her stomach empty. Releasing her hair, he stroked her back as she took in deep breaths, his heart aching.

A reaction to the medicine or the fever, possibly, hopefully, or maybe... 

Raising his hand to her forehead, he cupped it and found it wasn’t burning.

Shit.

Rubbing her back again, he gave her all the time she needed.

“It’s okay, sweetheart... It’s all right...”

When she eventually lay back down, she was pale, drawn, shaking and sweating, but lucid. She responded when he asked if she was okay, nodding and humming out a sound. His other hand went to her shirt, lifting it.

He saw what he’d feared; spots of blood on the bandage.

Dropping the shirt, he smoothed her damp hair away from her face, watching her fix her gaze on the wall as she breathed deeply.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna go and get the doctor, all righ’, he needs to take a look at you.”

She didn’t protest, didn’t even really react, and he swiftly pulled his boots on, unlocking and darting out of the door, his heart pounding. 

It was well past midnight but revellers were still at the saloon, some drunkenly calling out to him as he ran, laughing. He ran down an alley way between two buildings, heading for the back door of the Doctor’s building. Slamming his fist several times against the metal door, breathing hard, he stared at it, murmuring under his breath, “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon...”

Wallace was, thankfully, a light sleeper, opening the door less than a minute after Arthur knocked on it. He only needed to see Arthur’s expression. Grabbing his bag, they hurried over to the hotel and Arthur stood by the door as Wallace attended to her, feeling her forehead, pulse, unwrapping the bandages and cleaning up some of the blood that had come from a couple of torn stitches.

She panted lightly, staring up at the ceiling as her hair stuck to her skin.

He agreed with Arthur, that perhaps it must have been from the medicine she’d been give as, although she was warm, no extreme fever seemed to have a hold of her. Ada just lay with her eyes closed, breathing in and out. Once Wallace was satisfied, Arthur shook his hand, thanked him once again, and went to close the door after the doctor had declined his offer to walk him out.

Wallace stopped him, turning at the last moment and saying quietly, “It’s going to be a difficult night, Arthur, for both of you. This may be a reaction to the tonic, yes, but it could also be from the situation. Being attacked and shot can take quite the toll on the mind. It could be catching up to what has happened and she could be in shock.”

Arthur nodded, running a hand through his hair as he took in a breath, looking and feeling twenty years older. “Yeah, I... That’s what I'd feared.”

The man studied his features. “You’ve seen her like this before?”

He just nodded again, not wanting to divulge the far too many times he had.

“Then you know what to do, Arthur.”

Arthur watched him head down the corridor, gripping the door handle.

Yes. Yes, he did.

They were the words he needed to hear, the reassurance he needed. Closing and locking the door, he turned to her.

She was sucking in breaths that weren’t quite long enough, her hands gripped together on her stomach, knuckles white, eye shining.

He knew it wasn’t a fever, not all of it, maybe not any of it. She was trapped in her mind, resuming what had started on Mount Hagen with her murmured, “It’s over...”

He approached the bed, his heart aching unbearably, but yes, he knew what to do. Gently lifting her leg, he removed her boot, then pulled off the other, settling them side by side on the floor by the foot of the bed. Moving over her carefully, he settled at her side on his back, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her a little closer until her head was on his shoulder. Again, she didn’t protest, didn’t react. He stroked her arm lightly, his other hand resting over her clenched ones, caressing her knuckles while his cheek settled against the top of her head.

She was rigid against him, but he just held and stroked her, gazing at the same wall she was. The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire and her harsh breaths. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he didn’t think about time, didn’t think about much at all really, just focussed on her and every breath she took as he waited.

And then, finally, finally, finally, not long after a clock in the room chimed the early hour, the fear and the grief and the shock was released from her with a shuddering sob.

He held her tighter as she cried and cried, a hand coming up to cover her face as she turned her head closer to him. He didn’t say anything, letting her release it all. A few tears of his own slipped down his cheek but he felt a weight lift off of his chest; it had sometimes taken days for the melancholy to break, even weeks, and while he wished he could give her all that time, it just couldn’t be done now.

He also knew that it wouldn’t leave her completely, probably wouldn’t until they were home and maybe not even then, but he was relieved, for now.

Tightening his arms around her, he closed his eyes, his hand coming up to cup her neck, his thumb stroking against her jaw.

“You’re okay, sweetheart... You’re okay...” he murmured as her body shook against his from her sobs, his shirt wet. “... It’s over, we’re safe...”

And, he realised himself with an ache in his chest, that they finally were.

—

He felt fingers running through his hair, gently untangling locks of it. It was so soothing.

Good, a nice dream.

He hummed quietly, tilting his head closer to the touch. Gentle laughter came and it made him smile; it sounded just like her.

“Good morning...” the voice he loved most in the world murmured and he smiled.

“Mornin’...”

Lips brushed against his chin and, damn, it felt real.

Wait a second...

His sleep-addled brain was slow to catch up, and he almost didn’t believe what it was telling him. He almost didn’t want to find out, but...

Opening his eyes, he found the love of his life gazing at him, her finger tips brushing against his jaw, dark circles under her tired eyes but she was...

“Sweetheart?”

Ada’s smile widened.

“Hello, my love.”

“Oh, Ada...”

Euphoria overwhelmed him as he cupped her cheek and captured her lips in a fierce kiss. She was still smiling as she returned it, her finger tips resting against his neck. He kissed her over and over again until she was laughing softly. He swiftly drew his head back, however, when the events of the night came crashing back to him.

“How do you feel? Are you okay?” His hand went to her forehead so quickly he nearly smacked her in the head and she just couldn’t stop smiling.

“Well, I feel like I’ve been kicked by a horse and thrown down a ravine, but fine.”

"You sure?”

He believed her, his thumb stroking across her cheekbone, but she looked completely exhausted, and he was asking after more than her physical state.

She nodded, her other hand resting on her torso. “Yeah, just fine.”

“Christ, woman...” He kissed her again, and poured every ounce of love he had for her into it. She understood and returned every bit of it, not pulling back until he did.

Caressing her cheek, he gazed at her, shaking his head. “I love you, Ada.”

“I love you,” she murmured, tilting her head as her fingers traced down his jaw. 

Real. Real and alive.

His eyes travelled her features, the lines at the corners of her eyes he loved so much, the slope of her nose, the shape of her lips...

She watched him watch her, a light shine to her eyes. She knew the kind of relief he was feeling.

A trader shouting outside, heralding potential customers, pulled him out of his daze, his eyebrows raising as he blinked.

“Shit, I’m sorry, you want anythin’? Somethin’ to eat, drink?”

“I’m a little thirsty.”

“Shit, sorry...”

She laughed softly, awkwardly, the movement probably paining her a little as her stomach moved, while he moved over her, pausing to press a firm kiss to her lips before he continued on, setting his boots on the floor.

"Okay...” Grabbing his coat and gunbelt from the floor, he pulled them on as his gaze returned to her. “... I’m gonna see where the others are, see how they’re doin’, and then I’m gonna get us some food and water, all righ’?”

She nodded, her smile lingering.

“And then we can go home?”

He managed to stop himself from pausing as he adjusted the collar of his coat. One corner of his mouth lifting a little higher than the other, he started to button it.

“We’ll talk once we’ve got food in our stomachs, all right? I can’t think straight on an empty stomach, you know that. I won’t be long.”

She smiled tenderly as he approached. “Bye.”

He placed a hand on the mattress and leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.

“Have I told you I love you?” he murmured against them, and her fingers brushed against his cheek.

“Tell me again.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Arthur Morgan.”

When he kissed her again her hands cupped his face and it took a Herculean effort for him to break it.

“All righ’, all righ’...” he sighed begrudgingly, pulling his head back and gazing down at her.

Shaking his head at her faintly mischievous smile, God, he loved her so much, his fingers stroked her hip.

He paused at feeling the bandage. His gaze dropping, he lifted her shirt, and found the bandage a pristine white, no blood to be seen anywhere.

Thank God.

He just couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and kissing her again. She hummed softly against his lips and, oh, Christ, he had to pull away.

“I won’t be long,” he repeated as he strode for the door, hearing her chuckle at his speed.

He smiled at her as he unlocked and opened it, his heart warming as she returned it. 

“Bye, sweetheart.”

“Goodbye, my love.”

Closing the door behind himself, he paused, shook his head in disbelief and relief, and then headed down the corridor with the smile still on his lips. A door near the stairs opened and John’s head peered out, eyes tired but wide.

“Hey, is she okay? I heard you’d brought her over, and I thought I heard somethin’ goin’ on last night.”

Arthur nodded as he paused, shrugging. “Yeah...” He still couldn’t quite believe what he was about to say. “... Yeah, she’s, she’s awake and fine, talkin’. A little weak, I think, but fine.”

A wide smile broke across John’s features as he clapped him on the back. “Jesus Christ, that’s great!”

Arthur chuckled as he ran his hand through his hair. “I know, I know...” His smile faded, however, as he recalled her earlier words. Lowering his voice, he continued, “... But, uh... She wants to go home but I don’t think the doc’ will allow it. I said we’d talk about it after eatin’. She’s desperate to but I don’t see how I can persuade him.”

John exhaled a breath as he kept his voice low, too. “Yeah, Sadie’ll probably want to move on, too, but I don’t think he’s gonna let either of ‘em go, and I kinda agree with him.”

Arthur nodded, half of him, which the other half called traitorous, agreeing as well. “I know, I know... Anyway, you want anythin’ from the store?”

“Nah, I’m okay, thanks. Charles and I bought some stuff last night.”

“All righ’. Well, get Charles and Sadie, if she’s okay, and go to our room, it’s unlocked. We’ll all talk.”

“Okay. And, hey...” He stopped the older man before he continued on, a smile pulling at his lips. “... She’s okay.”

Arthur smiled, nodding a few times. “She’s okay.”

Valentine was it’s usual quietly bustling self, the day not yet reaching noon. He moved down the steps at the front of the hotel onto the street, elation, relief and euphoria still swirling around in his chest. He didn’t care that people were still staring and whispering, most, even though they didn’t know them, smiling to themselves at his obvious change in demeanour and what was the cause of it.

The woman was okay.

The general store owner even asked him outright how they were all doing, and he indulged him in saying they were all fine, though nothing more. He was suddenly reminded once again why he and Ada didn’t live near a town or city, and how grateful he was that Nathaniel and Martha didn’t intrude upon their land unless they were invited.

Nodding his thanks at the owner, he gathered the tins and packets of fruit into his arms and headed out into the cold light of the sun. Their horses were nowhere to be seen, but they wouldn’t be far, grazing probably or resting under a tree. He could hear metal striking metal again, and the butcher by the hotel calling out today’s prices for—

He paused on the porch, inches from the steps.

Charles and Dr. Wallace were hurrying up the stairs to the hotel, Charles talking quickly to him as he took the lead, looking back over his shoulder every couple of seconds. Unease was written across every inch of both their features.

Arthur's stomach dropped.

The cans tumbled out of his arms, colliding with wood and rolling down the steps into the mud, and he was down the stairs and about to sprint across the street when a horse suddenly whinnied loudly to his right. His head whipping to the side, he had to quickly stumble backwards as a rider trotted by, tutting at him.

“Watch where you’re goin’, pal!”

Ignoring him, Arthur ran, nearly slipping in the mud. Two men sat on the hotel porch stared at him as he approached, their conversation trailing off as he ran past them. He startled the hotel owner, too, when he stormed in, leaving the door open.

“Uh, sir—”

He ignored him, sprinting up the stairs, taking two, three at a time.

He could hear raised voices coming from their room, only able to distinguish them when he reached the top step.

“No!” Sadie was shouting over whoever was trying to calm her down, their voice low and soothing. “No! Don’t you touch me!”

She sounded truly angry, and his heart twisted.

No, no, no, no, no, no...

The door was open and he stepped in and—

He froze, hands gripping the frame and door handle to physically stop himself.

Everyone in the room paused, staring at him. Charles, Dr. Wallace, John, Sadie, Sheriff Daniel and... Ada.

She was sat up, leaning back against the headboard, her brow dipping.

“Arthur?”

“Uh, hey...” His gaze went from her to Sadie who, sat on the edge of the bed, was trying to slap the growing increasingly frustrated Wallace’s hands away from her torso, to the Sheriff who was leaning against the wall by the window close to them, arms folded across his chest.

“Hey, Arthur,” he greeted with a light smile.

Arthur cleared his throat as his hands dropped, trying to recover as swiftly as he could. “Sheriff Daniel. What a surprise.”

He resisted the urge to glance at the rest of them because what the hell was going on.

Daniel inclined his head. “My apologies for droppin’ by without invitation but I wanted to see how Mrs Adler and your wife were doin’. I’m relieved to see they’re both okay.”

“Yeah, they’re gettin’ there, it seems.” Arthur looked to Wallace, quickly nodding at him in greeting. “Doc’.”

The doctor was unhappy, his lips pressed together. “Arthur. You should have come for me this morning, their wounds need cleaning and redressing. Both of them.”

Sadie snorted. “Yeah, whatever, I’m fine.”

Wallace fixed his gaze on her, his eyebrows high. “Do you want an infection, Mrs Adler? Do you want to die?”

“Oh, this ain’t gonna kill me, you’ve patched up worse, Wallace.”

Arthur had thought Doctor Wallace quite the unflappable man, but it seemed Sadie Adler was his limit.

He was quietly verging on apoplectic as he stepped towards her once more. “Mrs Adler, just let me help you, please—”

Sadie stood, veering out of his reach, and placed her hands on her hips as she moved to stand by the bedside table. “Dan, you said you had somethin’ to tell us when Arthur got here?”

They all fell silent, except Wallace who was muttering under his breath.

Arthur did glance away this time, looking to the nearest person, Charles, who was stood by the chest of drawers behind Daniel. Charles just raised his eyebrows slightly, as surprised as he was.

His gaze returned to the Sheriff as Daniel nodded, his arms dropping, one hand going into his pocket.

“That I did. I just wanted to let y’all know that my boys went out to Hagen.” 

Shit.

Sheriff Daniel looked around the room at them all now, giving Arthur the opportunity to glance at Charles again and John, now, who was to his left. They were incredibly still, though he’d bet their hearts had started beating just as fast as his was.

Shit... Fuck...

Daniel's expression was giving no indication of his thoughts as he continued. “They found some bodies up there, at a campsite. Seems like there was a mighty fight.”

His eyes landed on Arthur as he finished.

Arthur raised his eyebrows in faint surprise. “Does it? Well, Micah Bell seemed like the kind of feller with a lot of enemies.”

“Yeah.” Daniel held his gaze. “My boys gathered the bodies and burned ‘em, so, guess no one’s gonna get that reward.”

“Shame,” Sadie said, shaking her head as she folded her arms across her chest, the picture of disappointment.

“Yeah,” Daniel looked at her with an easy smile that was so familiar to his face. “Well, just thought y’all would be interested to know.” Tipping his hat, he met each of their eyes in turn. “Good day to you all, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Yeah, thanks, good day, Sheriff,” Arthur said as stepped aside to allow him to pass, managing to not look as incredibly relieved as he felt.

Silence lingered in the room as they all listened to the sound of Sheriff Daniel’s boots disappearing down the hall and stairs, then his faint, cheerful farewell to the hotel owner, before the front door was closed.

Wallace, who had been rifling through his bag and muttering to himself still, hadn’t noticed the other occupants of the room glancing at one another with eyebrows raised high and mouths slightly open.

Well, I’ll be damned... Arthur thought, scratching at his forehead before his fingers ran through his hair.

‘Lucky’ didn’t quite seem to cover it.

Their expressions quickly neutralised as Wallace sighed and moved to Charles, shoving bandages, cloths and a small bottle of clear liquid into his hands.

“Here. You seem like the most sensible person in this room, Mr Smith, so I will entrust you with these. Make sure their wounds are cleaned and freshly dressed and that they eat and drink something.”

Lifting his bag, he turned a stern eye on the two women. “Please rest, both of you. I shall return later in the day.”

“Yep, will do, can’t wait,” Sadie answered jovially as Wallace strode across the room to the door.

Arthur murmured his thanks to him and earned a small nod before the doctor exited. Closing the door behind him, Arthur leaned back against it and folded his arms across his chest as he blew out a breath.

They all seemed to release a breath of their own, Sadie’s arms dropping, John resting an elbow on the chest of drawers beside him, Charles placing the bandages, cloths and bottle on the end of the bed, Ada’s shoulders slumping.

He gazed at her, allowing his heart to resume its normal pattern. Fucking Christ, he’d thought he’d lost her again. He was about to move closer when John chuckled.  

“Wow, guess your boyfriend ain’t so bad after all, Sadie.”

Sadie tutted, narrowing her eyes at him. “He ain’t my boyfriend, John Marston.”

“Sure, sure...”

Arthur joined John in his laughter, and it felt damn good to do so. Ada was also smiling, glancing up at Sadie and earning a narrowed stare herself, though her own lips were twitching.

Arthur’s gaze lingered on Ada’s smile, and then she was looking at him and it was widening.

“So, when can we leave?”

The words, so few, knocked the wind out of him, his smile fading. The others fell silent, too, John probably having told them what Wallace had said, or just guessing.

Clearing his throat quietly, he answered gently, “Ada, the doc’ says we can’t for a little while.”

She’d sensed the shift in the air. Glancing briefly to Sadie, Ada was still, her hands in her lap.

“How long?”

He paused for a moment. “Few days, at least.”

“A few days?” Her stricken expression made his chest ache. “Arthur, we said to Thom and Charlotte we’d be gone for two, they’ll start to worry—”

“I know, but the doc’ ain’t gonna allow it, you were barely on your feet yesterday and—”

“I’m fine now. Yes, it’ll need cleaning and changing but we can do that at home!”

“Darlin’—”

“What about Millie?”

Arthur looked at her as their daughter’s name hung in the air, and she stared back. The others were silent, either staring at the floor or their hands. 

He knew that bringing Millie up wasn’t an unfair insinuation that he’d hadn’t thought of her, that she was actually just angry and tired and anxious. Arthur unfolded his arms, his hands raising slightly before they dropped to his sides.

“Ada, I... I wanna see her, too. I know you know that. But it ain’t gonna help matters by rushin’ back when you ain’t well enough—”

“But I am—”

“I can ride out there.”

Their eyes darted to Charles. The man nodded as he looked between them, shrugging slightly.

“I’ll go, let them know.”

“You would do that?” Arthur asked quietly after a moment of silence, feeling like another weight was being lifted from him.

Charles smiled. “Of course.”

Arthur looked to Ada who licked her lips, her eyes shining as her voice caught in her throat slightly. “Millie can’t know what’s happened, none of them can. Thom would...” She paused for a couple of moments before shaking her head. “... I don’t want them to worry, and we should be the ones to tell them. Just say that...” She glanced at Arthur who nodded. “... Just say we’ve decided to stay at John and Abigail’s for another day or so, that you left early as you have to be somewhere. I’ll write something so they know we sent you. They know you by name but... just in case.”

Their friend nodded, looking between the two desperate, grateful parents again. “Okay, I’ll just get my things.”

“Thank you, Charles,” Ada murmured and he smiled at her again as he crossed the room.

Arthur placed his hand on his arm as he went to pass him, making him pause, and murmured his own, “Thank you, I can’t tell you what this...”

He trailed off, unable to express the enormity of his gratitude with words alone.

Charles understood, and patted his shoulder before he headed out of the room.

Running a hand down his mouth, Arthur’s hands then settled on his belt as his attention returned to Ada. She was already looking at him, eyes still shining, lips slightly pressed together as she tried to hold back her tears.

“Arthur, where’s the food?”

He blinked at Sadie’s voice, taking a second to figure out what she was talking about.

Oh... Shit.

“Oh, uh, I’ll get it. I was about to get it and then I saw the Doc’ and Charles headin’ over here and, uh...” He glanced at Ada, catching her lips pressing together a little more firmly as she realised what he must have thought. “... I’ll get it now, I won’t be long.”

“Can you get me some paper and a pen from the front desk, too?” Ada’s voice managed not to crack or catch, and he nodded, giving her a tender smile.

“Sure.”

He brought them to her, after retrieving the cans from the mud and quickly wiping them clean, and she wrote a jovial a message as she could as Sadie sat beside her and ate, as did John, leaning by the window. She wrote about what great fun they were having but they missed them and would be home soon. Folding it over once she’d finished, she held the note out to Arthur with a faint smile.

“Well, this’ll have to do.”

He crossed the room from where he’d been leaning against a chest of drawers, watching her, and took it. She was about to drop her hand when he caught it and raised it, lowering his head at the same time. Pressing a gentle kiss to the back of her hand, he straightened and held it for a few moments longer as he spoke.

“We’ll be home soon, sweetheart.”

All she could do was nod.

He found Charles by a group of trees by the church, his horse grazing on the lush, green grass.

The man mounted as he approached and gathered the reins, turning his horse towards him.

“I’ll be back tonight,” he said, tucking the note into a pocket inside his coat. “Anything you want me to bring for you?”

Arthur shook his head, hands sliding into his pockets. “Nah, it’s fine. Just... see how my little girl’s doin’. And thank you. Again.”

Charles took the hand he offered, shaking it firmly with a sincere nod. “Anytime, Arthur. Anytime.”

Arthur watched him ride away down the muddy path towards the train station. From there he’d head east and it’d just be straight roads to Newfields Rest. It’d take three, four hours at most... So close and yet so far from their daughter.

Turning away, Arthur’s hand returned to his pocket as he exhaled a breath.

Nah, don’t think about any of that now...

When he returned to the room, Ada was alone. She smiled instantly at the sight of him, her features softening, blankets pulled up to her stomach as she leaned back against the pillows.

“Hey,” he murmured as he closed the door behind himself. “Where’d everybody go?”

She played with the frayed end of a blanket as she watched him shrug his coat off. “John went to have a bath, Sadie’s decided to take a nap.”

He rolled his sleeves up as he glanced at the fire. Someone had built it higher, making the room rather warm. “She get that wound cleaned?”

Ada’s lips twitched up a little higher. “In the end. It took some manipulating on my part.”

He arched an eyebrow, unsuccessfully trying to stop a smile as he moved closer. “That so?”

“I’m not proud of it, but yes. I said something along the lines of how I want her to live to meet my daughter.”

Arthur exhaled a laugh as she shifted her legs over slightly so he could sit on the edge of the bed. “That was a dirty move, Mrs Morgan.”

She pulled a slight face, the smile still lingering faintly on her lips. “Yes, it was. But it wasn’t exactly untrue.”

He nodded a few times, his hand settling over hers. She turned it over, their palms resting against each other, and gripped his hand a little tighter.

“Has Charles gone?” she murmured, and he nodded again, his thumb brushing against hers.

“Yeah. Said he’d be back by tonight.”

She didn’t say anything, gazing down at their hands. Neither of them wanted to talk about what they were feeling. His gaze drifted to the small bottle and cloth beside her, bandages neatly coiled beside it.

Gently pulling his hand away, he reached for the cloth and bottle. “C’mon, let’s get your own wound cleaned, huh?”

She dutifully pulled her shirt up above the bandages and sat up to give him room to unwind them. He’d shifted forward a little more to do so, and her head gently leaned against his, her eyes closing. Listening to her breathe softly, he unwound and unwound, finally pulling it away and dropping it to the floor. She lifted her head and lay back again with a wince, her hands keeping her shirt up.

Pouring some of the liquid onto a cloth, he began to dab at the wound. She hissed in a sharp breath through her teeth, her nose scrunching up, and he glanced up at her, watching her press her lips together as she exhaled a breath.

“Sorry,” he murmured, his other hand settling on her thigh.

“It’s fine. Just stings a little.” She gave him a soft smile. “How does it look?”

“Good. I mean, I ain’t a doctor but it looks good.”

It had startled him, the night before, how strange the wound was, not as circular as he’d imagined, but ragged and uneven, which was probably due to how Wallace had had to dig the bullet out. He’d stitched it very well, though, so neatly, and even though the bruising around it made it look worse, Arthur trusted that Wallace had done a fine job.

Gently sweeping the cloth over the stitching, after a few moments he felt her hand settle over his other.

“Arthur, we have to get back before those letters are delivered.”

He met her gaze, moving the cloth away, his forearm resting on his thigh. “I know, but—”

“Please, Arthur, it’s not far.” Her fingers squeezed around his. “I want to recover at home.”

He nodded a few times, his gaze dropping as he took in a long breath. He could have just repeated what Wallace had told him, told her no, that she had to stay put and rest, that that would be for the best, but... He couldn’t have ever done that, not knowing her and loving her as he did.

Tilting his head slightly, he looked up at her, his voice quiet. “’spose we could... get a wagon, I could put some blankets in it, you could lie down, might make it easier.”

Hope brightened her eyes as her lips lifted, squeezing his hand again. “That’ll work, that’ll do.”

“I’ll talk to the doc’, see what he says.” He swept his thumb over her knuckles as she pressed her lips together, his features softening. “You know we can’t go without his blessin’.”

“I know.” She pulled her hand from his and cupped his face, her smile tender. Stroking her thumbs over his cheekbones, she gazed at him as her smile widened a little more. “You could always show him how big and tough you are.”

He chuckled, arching an eyebrow as he tucked a curl behind her ear. “I think it’d really disappoint Dan if I did that.”

“Hmm, that’s true. And he’s become such a great friend.”

His chuckle was muffled by her lips meeting his. The kiss was soft and tender, his hand moving to cup the back of her neck to keep her close. She hummed lightly, and it stirred something within him, his other hand releasing the cloth and settling on her waist. She took that as an invitation she was ready to accept, her tongue touching against his lips until they parted and she met his tongue.

His fingers tangled into her hair, and she hummed again, the sound full of longing. Christ, he wanted her. He wanted to feel his wife, to hear the sounds she only made for him, to take them away from here for a little while, to—

Three sharp knocks sounded on the door.

The kiss swiftly ended, their eyes darting to the door, but their hands remained on one another.

“It’s me,” Sadie called a moment later, sounding disgruntled.

They shared a look, smiles pulling at their lips even as disappointment lingered in their eyes. Her hands went to her lap as his took up the cloth again and doused it in more liquid.

“Come in,” he called.

The door opened instantly, Sadie entering with the corners of her mouth turned down.

“Can’t fuckin’ sleep with all them people talkin’ and wagons and horses...”

After closing the door behind herself, she strode across the room, kicking her boots off, and climbed onto the bed behind Arthur, settling close to the wall with her arms folded across her chest.

Arthur met Ada’s gaze again as he gently wiped a few more times at the stitches, both of them trying to stifle their grins, and Ada cleared her throat.

“Is your room on the front?”

“Yeah,” she grumbled, adjusting her head on the pillow. “Like a damn circus out there.”

“Well, make yourself at home.” Arthur folded the cloth and placed it on the bedside table along with the bottle. 

“Oh, I will.”

Ada leaned forward again as Arthur picked the fresh bandages up, and he wound them around her, covering the wound, and tied it securely. He brushed his thumb lightly over it, a small gesture of affection, and Ada smiled, mouthing her thanks. He settled her shirt back in place with a nod, and then stood with a groan.

“All righ’, I won’t be long.”

Sadie cracked an eye open. “Where you goin’?”

He pulled his coat on once more, raising his eyebrows. “To see the doc’.”

She snorted, her eye closing. “Ugh, tell ‘im I did as I was told. I’m sure it’ll make his damn day.”

Arthur caught Ada’s expression as he headed for the door, and knew she was thinking exactly the same as him.

I sure hope it does put him in a good mood.

—

“Doc’?”

Wallace turned from the cabinet he was arranging at Arthur’s voice and the bell above the door tinkling. 

“Arthur, good afternoon.”

“Hello, sir.”

Arthur closed the door behind him, keeping the bitter cold out, as Wallace nudged a bottle into place before closing the cabinet and turning his full attention to him. 

“How is your wife?”

“Fine, thank you. She’s eaten a little and I got that wound cleaned.”

Wallace nodded, moving towards the store counter. “Good, that’s very good. And Mrs Adler, dare I ask?”

Arthur couldn’t stop a smile from pulling at his lips. “Yeah, her, too. She’s takin’ a nap righ’ now.”

“Ah, a miracle,” the doctor answered drily. Rifling through some papers on the counter, he glanced up at Arthur and paused, watching the man hesitate. “What is it?”

Arthur’s jaw moved as he hesitated again. “... Ada wants to go home.”

Wallace sighed, straightening. “Sir—”

“Look, I know, I know,” Arthur interjected, holding a hand out. “But we got a little girl and we ain’t been away from her, ever, so we really wanna get back to her.”

“I understand that but—”

“We don’t live too far away, only out by Emerald Ranch. If I, if I got a wagon, I could lay her down in it, go slow, it’s flat roads all the way there.”

Wallace was, as far as Arthur could see, unmoved. “Arthur—”

It made him feel somewhat desperate. “Please, doc’. She ain’t gonna even try to get better if she can’t see her daughter, trust me.”

Silence fell.

The doctor looked at him, his jaw moving slightly. “The melancholy that overcame her last night, and that’s happened before, do you believe it would return and worsen?”

Arthur nodded. “Yeah. Last night ain’t the worst it’s been and... like I said, she ain’t gonna try if she can’t see her.”

Wallace exhaled a breath, the sound close to a sigh. Seconds ticked by before he spoke again.

“I’ve passed through Emerald Ranch before, they have a doctor there, don’t they?”

Arthur managed to hide his surprise, and the small glimmer of hope that was growing. “Uh, yeah. He’s mostly there for the animals, but he’s good with people, too. Helped my wife when she gave birth.”

The other man nodded once. “All right, I’ll allow it.”

Relief flooded through him as he released a breath, but Wallace was already raising a finger, eyebrows high.

“But you go tomorrow and slow and you will have to be the voice of reason, sir, no matter how much it breaks your heart. If you need to stop because she’s in pain, you stop, don’t let her persuade you to continue.”

Arthur nodded several times. “Yes, sir. Thank you—”

“And it’s on you if anything happens to her.”

That dimmed some of his joy, his throat bobbing as he nodded again. “I know.”

 Something already has happened that’s on me.

“And...” Wallace’s finger was still raised, expression stern and resolute. “... only if she can get out of that bed, down the stairs and to the saloon for a proper meal.”

Oh, shit...

He’d planned on carrying her down to the wagon, if permission had been granted. Even just sitting up had given her some pain, so moving by herself...

Managing to hide his apprehension, he inclined his head. “Yes, sir, I’ll make sure we have dinner there tonight.”

“All right.” Wallace lowered his hand, returning to his papers, his gaze dropping. “The same for Mrs Adler, too. Though I doubt she’ll heed any of my professional opinions.”

—

"I think I’m gonna go down to South America.”

Sadie popped a peach segment into her mouth as she nodded, licking her lips before continuing.

“It’s wild there but, less mean, I guess. Think I’ll run protection for a gold mine or somethin’ or take up with a handsome revolutionary, I don’t know.” She smiled, shaking her head. “Just wanna see somethin’ else.”

Ada gazed at her with a smile, chewing on a grape. The moment the door had closed behind Arthur, Sadie had continued talking, about the noise, about how small this town was, and now to the current topic; what was next.

“That sounds wonderful. I hope you’ll write to me, and visit, if you can.”

Sadie grinned, meeting her gaze. “I’d love to.”

“Good. And I suppose you’ll have to visit here again, too...” Ada’s lips twitched at Sadie’s frown. “... That Sheriff Daniel’s quite a feller, very handsome...”

Sadie released a laugh, wiping peach juice from her mouth with the back of her hand. “Ha, yeah. He came over yesterday and this mornin’ before he came in here, won’t stop askin’ me how I am, if I’m all right, if I need anythin’...” She finished in a faux love-sick voice, making Ada laugh.

“You mean like a decent person would?”

The blonde woman snorted. “Yeah, but he gets these moony eyes when he looks at me.”

Ada grinned, arching an eyebrow. “Certainly seems like he could duel a revolutionary.”

“Now I’d like to see that!”

They laughed, and Arthur’s smile widened at the sound of it as he opened the door and entered. They looked to him, laughter trailing off as their smiles lingered, and he raised his hands as he pushed the door closed with his boot.

“Doc’ says we can go tomorrow.”

He hadn’t thought it possible, but Ada’s smile widened, her eyes lighting up. “What? Really?!”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, leaning against the chest of drawers as Sadie patted her arm, grinning. “I just gotta find a wagon and, uh...” He trailed off slightly, clearing his throat. “... And you just gotta get up and go across to the saloon for a meal.”

Her smile froze, her brow dipping. “... Really?”

“Yeah.” His thumb and forefinger rubbed together, a strange, nervous sensation in his chest.

There was the slightest of pauses before her eyebrows raised as she shrugged. “Well. I can do that.”

“Yeah.” He felt like an idiot, repeating himself so damn much. Making his lips rise a little higher, he glanced at Sadie, her smile gone, though she quickly reformed it. “We’ll have dinner there tonight, all of us.”

“Sounds good,” the blonde woman answered, keeping her tone light.

His gaze returned to Ada and he caught it before she could smother it; her apprehension.

“Well...” She smiled lightly as she adjusted her shoulders on the pillow. “I think I’ll join Sadie and take a nap until then.”

“All righ’, sweetheart. I’ll go see where John is, and see about a wagon.” He paused, glancing at Sadie again, and thankfully found that she’d closed her eyes. His features softening, he met Ada’s gaze and mouthed, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she mouthed back with a softer smile, her fingers lacing together.

He left them to their rest, quietly closing the door on his way out and heading to John’s room. There was no response to his knock, and the door was locked, so Arthur assumed he was out somewhere, eating, still bathing or tending to his horse. He should probably do the same.

Finding Noka and Titan near the stables, grazing on a pile of hay that had been left there, he murmured lowly to them, soothing them and stroking their faces. Retrieving a brush from his saddlebag, he brushed them down, taking his time with the task. It was John who found him a short while later, leading his horse, Rachel, by the reins and carrying a bucket of oats in his other hand. They tended to the horses together, taking the time to clean and polish the saddles, too, while talking about the prospect of going home tomorrow and where they might be able to find a wagon.

After they’d finished, they strolled around the town, enquiring. The general store owner directed them to a man at the saloon by the church, who directed them to another man there, who directed them to the tents by the stables. After some negotiating, a Dutch man sold them a wagon, that was just big enough for someone to lie down in, for more than it was worth but the wheels were sturdy and it had the space needed and that’s all Arthur cared about. They used Titan to pull the wagon around to the front of the hotel, asking the owner if they could leave it there. He agreed, for a small fee, and afterwards they went up to John’s room where they divided the Blackwater spoils between the five of them.

Arthur still couldn’t believe it, his gaze travelling over the shining bars, coins and jewellery as he held wads of bills in his hands. He felt strange, finally holding it, owning it. He’d thought about that job, the one out of many that had gone so wrong, over the last few years. Had that been the turning point? Dutch had killed a woman then, and it had unsettled him and the others but... Well, things had just carried on, hadn’t they? Pushing the thoughts from his mind, he tucked his and Ada’s share into one of the saddlebags John had carried the loot down in, telling himself what good the money could do now.

Yes, he could build that stable, take on more horses, earn more of his honest income, and buy more materials for Ada so she could expand her own business, more books and clothes for Millie, some could even go to Thom and Charlotte, they wanted to build on their land...

Yes, it could do some good now.

John joined Arthur when he returned to the general store, buying some food and ammunition for himself while Arthur bought himself a new pair of gloves, and a new pair of trousers, coat, corset and a shirt for Ada. They sat on the hotel porch afterwards with their packages, saddlebags full of gold at their feet, watching the sun slowly go down and talking idly about the weather and what it might mean for each of their crops.

If us ten years ago could see us now, Arthur though, a smile pulling at his lips.

With the sun disappearing, the air became even colder and they headed inside to their rooms, agreeing to regroup in half an hour to make their way to the saloon. Arthur patted John on the back as he paused at his door, fishing his key out of his pocket, and Arthur continued on to his own. He listened for a moment to hear if the two women were talking, but there was just silence.

Quietly opening the door, he met Ada’s gaze, and found she was alone, again, though half of her hair was now tied back in a braid.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Shutting the door, he was grateful that someone, most likely Sadie, had stoked the fire, the room warm without being overbearing.

“Where’s Sadie?” he asked as he placed the package on the chest of drawers and the saddlebag at the base of it.

“Gone to take a bath. I don’t know how she’s going to do it on her own but, well, that’s Sadie, isn’t it.” She smiled, twisting her wedding band around her finger as she watched him approach.

He nodded at her, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing his hand on the mattress on the other side of her legs. “She do your hair?”

“Yeah.” Her smile widened a little more as she ran her fingers over the lower half. “We both couldn’t sleep for long so we had to occupy ourselves somehow.”

“It’s pretty.” The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, watching her try to suppress her own.

“Thank you, Mr Morgan.”

It always amused him when, despite having murmured to her the most sensual, sinful things, a simple compliment made a pink tinge rise on her cheeks. Chuckling, he tilted his head, his fingers brushing against her thigh.

“I said to John we’d meet in half an hour. You wanna get changed now?” He said it gently, and she only paused for a moment, her fingers still twisting together.

“Sure. Into what, though, I don’t know.”

“Well, I bought you these...” Patting her thigh as he rose, Arthur moved to the chest of drawers and returned to his place with the package, placing it on his lap. Pulling the string that held it together away, he unwrapped the clothing and held them up for her.

She took the cream shirt and corset and grey trousers and brown coat, inspecting them as her smile returned and grew. “These are lovely, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. You know I’d prefer you naked but I think that’d get us kicked out.”

She laughed, running her fingers over the material for a few moments, before she exhaled a breath and met his gaze.

“All right, let’s get this over with.”

He stood, not saying a word, and took the clothes from her, placing them at the foot of the bed. Pushing the blankets off of herself, he heard the long, quiet breath she inhaled. Turning back to her, he held his hands out. Ada glanced up at him as she placed her hands in his and used the grip to sit up. He watched her lips press together and the muscles in her jaw move, a sign her teeth were gritting, though she only made a faint sound as she slid her legs off the bed, setting her feet on the floor.

Their eyes locked again as they paused, and then, when she nodded, he gently pulled her up. She released another sound, a short, sharp hiss that made his chest tighten, but they didn’t stop. In fact, he didn’t stop pulling her until not only was she on her feet but in his arms. Wrapping them around her gently, he held her against him as she exhaled short, steadying breaths, her own arms going around him and gripping onto the back of his coat.

“You okay?” he murmured against her ear, and she nodded, blowing out another breath.

“Yeah. Just give me a minute.”

He held her up as she breathed and found her strength, thanking God that, even though she needed to lean against him, she wasn’t swaying or shaking. His fingers stroked at the base of her spine, cheek leaning against the top of her head. Finally, she pulled her head back and gave him a small smile, hands holding onto the sides of his coat.

“Well.”

“Well?” he prompted gently.

“Legs are a little stiff and I don’t think I’ll be able to move my torso that much, but fine.”

“Oh, only those two things, huh?” He arched an eyebrow which made her exhale a laugh, shrugging her shoulders.

“Yeah, just those two tiny things. Other than that, completely fine.”

“All righ’, I’d say you’re ready to run all the way home, then.”

She laughed, and he gazed down at her, patting her back lightly as he smiled.

“C’mon, then, let’s get this done.” 

He helped her out of the trousers first, pulling them down her legs, crouching and letting her grip his shoulder for balance as she lifted a leg at a time to allow him to tug them away over her feet. Then the new trousers went on, her legs lifting again, and he slid them up to her waist, buttoning them carefully before he helped her slip her feet into her boots.

Next was the removal of her torn and bloodied shirt and corset. He threw them into a corner before gliding his finger tips down her back, the gentle action making her arch slightly, her lips twitching.

“Concentrate, Mr Morgan...” she murmured as his fingers came up over her shoulders and down to her chest, hovering over her breasts.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The corset was soft and easy to tie, his chin resting on the top of her head as his hands secured it at her back. Helping her pull the shirt on one arm at a time, he adjusted the collar before buttoning it from the bottom up.

He glanced up at her every few moments, finding her eyes on him, and brushed his finger between her breasts before he finished buttoning up to her collarbones. Lastly, he helped her with the coat, smoothing down the collar.

“That all righ’?” he murmured, hands resting on her arms. “You comfortable?”

“Yeah, it’s perfect, thank you.” Her hands went to his chest, tracing over the buttons of his coat with a soft smile.

“You ready to go downstairs?”

“Sure.”

She pressed her lips together slightly, her smile faintly lingering. She was just as apprehensive as he was, he could tell, but they both knew if she did it, if she just went downstairs, crossed the street and had a meal, then they could go home.

He wished he could take away the pressure and the burden.

His hands moving up, he cupped her face, exhaling a breath as he gazed down at her.

“You can do it, darlin’. One step at a time.”

Ada nodded, leaning her head into his touch as one of his thumbs stroked across her cheek, smile gone. “One step at a time.” Licking her lips, she patted his coat, raising her eyebrows a little.

“Are you not gonna change?”

He shook his head as a corner of his mouth lifted. “Nah. No point if we’re goin’ home tomorrow.”

She stared at him.

He opened his mouth after a few moments of silence to speak when her hands went to his face and she drew his head down, capturing his lips in a firm kiss. He cupped the back of her head, returning it instantly as his eyes closed. His other went to her lower back, holding but not pressing her against him so he wouldn’t hurt her. She broke the kiss barely seconds later, but didn’t move, her eyes locking with his as they opened.

“I love you,” she said quietly, and his forehead rested gently against hers.

“I love you.”

Sniffing, she pressed another kiss to his lips before releasing him, visibly steeling herself.

“All right, let’s go.”

As she took his arm, he led her to the door, opening it and letting her step through first. He pocketed the key after locking it behind them, and he waited for her to move first, letting her lean on him as they moved down the corridor.

Arthur could feel how stiff she was, but she didn’t make a noise, didn’t complain. Upon reaching the stairs, though, his heart began to ache at her expression. 

She paused, staring down at them, and he could see her mind working, trying to figure out how best to do it. Clearing his throat, he took the first step down, holding out a hand to her. Her gaze shifted to him, and she smiled faintly. Taking his hand, she placed her other on the wall and stepped down. As they’d said, she took one step at a time, holding his hand tightly and wincing with every move.

“You all righ’?” he asked when she paused halfway down, blowing out a breath.

“Yeah, yeah... just a little sore.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if she wanted to go back, but he already knew the answer.

After nearly a minute, she nodded and continued down. At the curve in the stairs that lay between her and the last four steps down, Arthur glanced to his left and saw the hotel owner, a kind smile on his lips.

“Here, ma’am...” He stepped forward, holding a hand out to her, and she accepted it with a gracious smile.

“Oh, thank you, that’s very kind.”

“It’s no trouble at all, ma’am. It’s mighty good to see you on your feet.”

Her smile lingered, though Arthur suspected it was to also hide her grimaces as she moved down the last couple of steps. Sweat was starting to shine on her brow and she already looked tired, the dark circles under her eyes so pronounced. This was a bad idea, he shouldn’t have let her do this—

Ada’s features lit up as she looked over Arthur’s shoulder, her hand falling from the hotel owner’s.

“Charles.”

He was about to look himself but she was already moving, her grip tightening on his hand, and he moved with her to the door, one hand on her back. She gripped the door handle and pulled it open, keeping a hold on it to steady herself as they gazed out. Charles was guiding his horse towards the post before the hotel porch, and at the sound of the door opening he looked up and smiled at them.

“Hey, you’re up.”

Ada’s smile was wide and hopeful as she stepped out onto the porch, her free hand moving to grip the doorframe, and she ignored his words.

“How are they, Charles?”

He dismounted and pulled the reins over his horse’s head, wrapping them around the post as looked up at them again. “They’re fine.”

The hand that was squeezing Arthur’s so tightly relaxed a little, and Arthur felt his shoulders do the same.

“Really?”

“Yeah. They didn’t seem to suspect anything.” Charles removed his gloves as he ascended the stairs, his smile returning. “I met Millie. She’s a lot like you, and you, Arthur. She’s very much your child.”

Ada’s voice cracked slightly as she asked, “She’s happy? She’s okay?”

“Yeah, she is.” Charles could see the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes as she exhaled, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “She misses you both, but she’s fine.”

Ada nodded several times as Arthur met his gaze and nodded his thanks, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Thank you, Charles. Thank you so much,” Ada said quietly, and Charles squeezed her shoulder before dropping his hand.

“Anytime.” Looking them over, his eyebrows raising a little, he continued, “So, where are we goin’?”

Ada sniffed, smiling as she shrugged a shoulder. “Out to dinner, like regular folk.”

As Charles’s gaze dropped to where her wound was, Arthur cleared his throat. “Doc’ won’t let us go home unless she can get there and eat.”

“Ah.” The look he gave Arthur suggested they should have stayed put, and maybe in another time and place Arthur would have agreed with him at feeling Ada lean more heavily against him as time ticked by.

But, he just raised his eyebrows.

You try and tell this mother to get back upstairs.

Message received, Charles took in a breath, offering his arm to Ada as he turned.

“I’ll come, too, I’m starving.”

Arthur could have handed all his earthly possessions over to him right there and then. He caught Ada’s grateful smile to the man as she wrapped her hand around his arm, leaning some of her weight against him, and they moved together to the stairs. They helped her down, one at a time again, beads of sweat now sliding down her neck and pained sounds coming from the back of her throat as she gritted her teeth, but neither man said a word.

When she stepped down onto the muddy street, Arthur settled an arm around her waist to aid in keeping her torso as straight as possible. Thankfully no wagons or riders were coming down the street as they crossed it, so they could take their time, her steps small.

“Is Wallace watching?” she murmured.

“What?” Arthur asked gently, her words somewhat indecipherable due to her clenched jaw.

“Is Wallace watching from his office?”

Charles answered as he and Arthur glanced up with a quiet, "Yeah.”

And he was, gazing out of his window at them expressionlessly.

“Ooh, shit...” she sighed, her eyes on the ground.

Anyone and everyone could see she was in pain and, hell, Arthur was close to just sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her the rest of the way. Why the hell had Wallace ordered it? To deter her? To motivate her? Who was the winner here? No one, but maybe that was Wallace’s point.

It was the stairs up to the saloon that nearly undid it all. Arthur watched her stare at them, the wood illuminated by the warm lights that shone within.

“I don’t think I can do it,” she whispered in a voice so quiet both men were surprised they’d heard.

“You can, darlin’,” Arthur murmured, tucking a curl behind her ear. “This is the last thing, then you can sit down and we’re gonna have a real nice meal.”

Tears had returned to her eyes, perhaps from exhaustion, or frustration, or the unfairness of it all, or her desperate want to do it, most likely all four, and it broke his heart. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes and a few tears slipped out, sliding down her cheeks. Charles was patting her back gently which seemed to only be making it worse, her teeth sinking into her lower lip to stop it from trembling.

“Hey, what’s goin’ on?”

Charles and Arthur looked up to see John and Sadie approaching from the hotel, Sadie a little slower, her arm wrapped around her stomach, hand against her side.

Arthur opened his mouth, but Ada answered, her voice breaking again.

“I’m trying to get up the damn stairs.”

“Yeah, gettin’ up them hotel ones nearly killed me,” Sadie muttered as they joined them, though Sadie didn’t stop as John did.

Instead, she moved halfway up the stairs with a groan and a curse, hissing her breaths in and out. Turning, she arched an eyebrow.

“But they didn’t kill me. You can do it, lady.”

Ada stared up at her, the corners of her mouth turned down, tears shining on her cheeks, and Sadie tilted her head.

“You can do it.”

“C’mon, Ada. S’just a couple of steps, ain’t nothin’,” John chimed in, a warm smile on his lips when she looked to him.

Her gaze returned to the stairs, and Arthur held his breath as he rubbed her lower back.

Then, she nodded.

Tightening his hold around her, Charles on her other side now holding her arm and hand, they ascended a step at a time with her. She gave a heart-wrenching groan halfway up, her features twisting with pain, but she didn’t stop until they reached the top. When they did, she released an almost gasped breath, as if she had been holding it in, and Arthur pressed a kiss to her head as the others smiled widely and cheered her. She was smiling herself, her eyes closing for a few moments.

“All right, let’s carry on, I need to sit down.”

Sadie and John held the saloon doors open for them, and they all ignored the quietening of the establishment as they entered. Sadie cleared two men away from a table by a window to their right just by jerking her thumb behind her, their chairs swiftly scraping back as they scrambled out of them. Arthur and Charles helped to lower Ada into a chair carefully, her brow dipping. Once seated, though, and leaning back, she exhaled a heavy, relieved breath, looking up at them both gratefully. Arthur kissed her head again as Charles patted her hand, and they both took a seat beside her, John and Sadie already seated.

A woman with strawberry-blonde hair hurried over from the bar, smile wide as conversations around them resumed. There were only two meals available, a lamb or beef stew, and they all ordered which one they preferred, John also ordering a bottle of whisky for the table.

He sat back as the woman hurried away back to the bar, shaking his head as he looked between them all with a smile.

“Look at you three. Who’d’ve guessed you were bleedin’ out a day ago.”

Sadie snorted, her hands resting on her stomach. “Seems like God’s got a sense of humour.”

“That he does!” John laughed as the woman returned with the bottle on a tray and a glass for each of them.

They quietened as she distributed them and mumbled a, “Let me know if you need anythin’ else...” before she was scurrying away again. John uncorked the bottle and poured them all a couple of fingers of whisky, leaving himself until last.

“Yeah, look at us all, huh,” Sadie said, surprising them with her quietness as John placed the bottle on the table. “We all really made it.”

“Yeah, we did,” Charles answered with a smile, fingers wrapped around his glass.

A silence descended upon the table as they shared in a moment without fear, worry or grief, the only thought being what was happening right now and of each other. Despite all the noise around them, despite all that had passed, they were just now a group of friends who’d shared all the joys and griefs that life had to offer. Eyes shone as they looked at one another, Ada squeezing Charles’s arm as Sadie smiled at Arthur and John.

The latter raised his glass, clearing his throat. “How about a toast?”

They all did the same, and tried to find the right words.

It was Arthur who announced, “To good friends, and a good life.”

“Good friends and a good life,” they repeated instantly, firmly and quietly.

Raising their glasses a little higher, they then drank to it, eyes still shining with gratitude.

Setting their glasses down, Sadie spoke first, folding her arms and clearing her throat.

“So, Charles, Canada next, is it?”

He smiled as he nodded, leaning a forearm on the table. “I think so. I know some people up there who might take me in for a little while, and there’s some good work up there...”

They listened to him, smiling fondly even as their hearts ached at the inevitable moving on of life, and Arthur felt Ada’s hand find his, lacing their fingers together and squeezing it gently.

Another bottle of whisky was ordered before they’d even finished their meals.

They talked and laughed like, as Ada had described them, regular folk, which they gathered they were now. As regular as they could be, anyway. They reminisced on places they’d been and people they’d known, funny little stories of everyday things that came to them in the moment. John and Arthur and Ada traded stories about parenthood as Charles and Sadie smiled and chuckled, and there was more than a fair amount of teasing towards Sadie about Sheriff Dan. She just waved it off, glancing at Ada as she drank with a secretive smile. Another bottle was ordered, and talk turned again to the future. Charles was set on Canada and would probably depart as soon as he’d heard word from his friends, Sadie was unsure and happy about it, John just wanted to get home to his family, and so did Arthur and Ada. Most of all, they all just wanted to live their lives.

Arthur, at catching Ada barely being able to keep her eyes open, announced that perhaps it was time for bed. They all agreed, chairs scraping back loudly, drawing the attention of the citizens of Valentine again, who were, again, ignored. John paid for the meals and drinks, waving off their insistences that they would pay him back.

Perhaps he’d feel a bit differently in the morning when his head was a little clearer, Arthur thought with a smile as he watched him stumble slightly on his way to the doors.

He and Charles helped Ada out and down onto the street again, though she was so exhausted and pained that once they were in the hotel Arthur lifted her and carried her up the rest of the way. Her head leaned against his shoulder as he bade a quiet goodnight to them all, John just waving with bleary eyes as Charles helped him into his room, while Sadie blew Ada a kiss with a grin before she entered her own.

Ada smiled sleepily at the gesture, waving her fingers, before she was carried into the room and Arthur pushed the door shut with his boot.

“All righ’... Careful...” Arthur murmured to himself as he lay her down as gently as he could.

A grateful smile was on her lips as he pulled back, and he stroked her hair away from her face tenderly.

“You okay?”

“Tired,” she answered, though her smile lingered.

“All righ’, gimme a minute...”

He stoked the dwindling fire before kicking his boots off and removing his coat. Leaving them on the floor, he rolled his sleeves up as he approached the bed and carefully pulled off her own boots, placing them on the floor. He went to remove her coat when she shook her head.

“No, leave it. I don’t think I can move again.”

Nodding, he stroked her cheek before climbing in beside her with a groan. Wrapping his arms around her gently, he pressed a lingering kiss to her temple. She hummed quietly, her hands settling over his arm, listening to the crackling of the fire.

“You don’t think Sheriff Daniel’s boys... You don’t think he did us a favour, do you?” she murmured after several moments, her head turning towards him slightly, the idea obviously having been playing on her mind.

Arthur took in a long breath, thumb brushing against her coat. “I think he’s a smart man. And a decent one...”

“So, yes?”

He exhaled a laugh. “I don’t know why he did it, but, Christ, am I glad.”

“Mmh, me, too.” She turned her head a little more, her nose brushing against his jaw. “I love you,” she whispered, just as she would say goodnight.

“I love you, too,” he murmured, his hand rising to stroke over her hair. And he didn’t know if it was the whisky, despite only having had a glass, or maybe he just needed it out of his head, but after pausing he mumbled, “You scared me yesterday.”

She pressed her fingers into his skin, squeezing his arm gently. “I’m sorry—”

“No, no, no, don’t you apologise,” he swiftly cut in, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean... I just thought you were...”

He gazed down at her as her fingers brushed against his cheek, her smile tender.

“It’s okay, Arthur.”

He swallowed, stroking his fingers over her hair again. “I nearly lost you, and it was my fault—”

“Shh... No, it wasn’t.”

Her fingers settled over his lips, silencing him, and he just held her gaze, not knowing how someone could love a person so much. As her fingers fell away, the backs of them stroking along his jawline, he cleared his throat quietly.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Ada’s lips lifted a little. “Yeah, and no.”

“Hm, I feel the same.”

Her brow suddenly dipped, her hand cupping his cheek. “How are you? I haven’t asked you that, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be... I... I don’t really know.” He shrugged slightly. “I’m okay. I... y’know...” He sighed, playing with a lock of her hair. “... The night before we went up the mountain, John and I, we made a pact, that that would be the last time we do anythin’ of the sort. We just wanna be with our families now, put all that behind us.”

“Well,” she smiled softly, eyes heavy with exhaustion and love. “It shouldn’t be too hard to do that now. We’re really free.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “That we are.”

Licking her lips, she parted them, hesitating slightly. “Do you... Do you feel...”

He knew what she was trying to gently ask. His features softening, realising suddenly that it also must have been playing on her mind, he shook his head, his fingers splaying across her cheek and jaw.

“Nah, I don’t feel guilty or regret killin’ ‘im. I thought I would... I waited for it to come, but... nothin’. I always said revenge weren’t worth it, but... I didn’t do it out of revenge, I did it to protect you.”

Her jaw moved a little as she pressed her lips together, and he could see she was trying to stop the tears that were filling her eyes from falling. Lowering his head, he pressed a tender, lingering kiss to her lips.

Drawing back, he murmured, “You get some rest now, sweetheart.”

Watching her eyes close, long lashes resting against her cheeks, he stroked at her hair gently, soothingly, his own eyes not closing until he was sure she was asleep.

—

That sound of metal clanging against metal roused him, his legs stretching out slowly as he groaned.

Lifting a hand, he rubbed at his eyes with a yawn, trying to fight off the last remnants of sleep that were clinging to him. Running a hand through his hair, his arm then settled above his head on the pillow, his eyes opening. Tilting his head down, he found Ada still asleep, breaths soft and slow.

He watched her, not wanting to wake her yet. Yes, he was eager to get home, but he would absolutely not rush her. And who knew the toll last night’s excursion could have taken on her? A small voice in his head was yelling at him, telling him he should insist they stay so she could rest, Charles’s look when he’d returned coming back to him. But... he hadn’t been lying when he’d spoken to Wallace. She would recover more willingly at home, and the very last thing he wanted was for the dark, unshifting cloud of melancholy to descend.

Besides, Wallace wouldn’t really let them go if he didn’t deem it wise, and as long as he travelled slowly, cleaned her wound—

Shit, oh, fuck.

He’d completely forgotten to check the bandages last night. Pushing himself up, he pushed her coat apart and gripped her shirt, pulling it up as his breath caught in his throat... and then he exhaled.

There was some spots of blood, yes, but they were small.

“I hope that’s who I think it is, or my husband’s going to be very angry.”

Her light, sleepy tone startled him, his gaze darting up to her. She was looking at him, a smile on her lips. Dropping her shirt, he smoothed it down carefully, allowing a smile of his own to emerge.

“He sounds like the wrong sort to be with, ma’am.”

“Nah, he’s okay. A little grumpy but it grows on you.”

“Now I know I can tell the doc’ you’re better, that smart mouth has come back...”

She laughed huskily as he leaned down, pressing several, soft kisses to her lips, as her fingers tangled into his hair.

“You sleep okay?” he mumbled against her lips, his thumb stroking against her temple.

“Just fine. You?”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

He kissed her again, letting it linger before he pulled back, his hand resting against her waist. Her eyes were still tired, though they were a little brighter than yesterday, and she seemed brighter in general.

“You wanna get somethin’ to eat?”

She shook her head, raising her eyebrows slightly as she smiled. “Can we just go home?”

He desperately wanted to say yes as swiftly as he could, but Wallace’s words and Charles’s expression were still ruminating in the back of his mind.

“We’ll see if the other’s are up, then we gotta see the doc’... then yeah.”

Her smile widened, her fingers grazing down his neck, and he willed with all the might he had left in him for Wallace to allow them to leave. He kissed her once more, whether to reassure her or himself he didn’t know, and then he climbed off the bed, clapping his hands together.

“All righ’, let’s get outta here.”

They were out of the room in minutes. Having unpacked nothing and she being already dressed, all he had to do was help her with her boots before pulling his own on and his coat, and then help her get to her feet. She was stiffer but she rose quickly, gripping onto his biceps as she blew out a long breath.

“Okay?” he murmured after almost a minute, and received a nod in reply.

She leaned on his arm as they crossed the room and headed out, the saddlebag of Blackwater money over his other shoulder, shutting the door behind them. Moving down the hallway, they paused at John’s door, Arthur rapping his knuckles against it.

There was the sound of faint groaning, boards creaking, and then it was being pulled open, a rather bedraggled John Marston appearing, rubbing at his eyes.

“Well, good mornin’, sunshine,” Arthur greeted cheerfully, a somewhat delighted smile tugging at his lips. “You okay there?”

“Awh, shuddup...” John croaked, raking his hair back from his face. “What’s goin’ on?”

“We’re gonna go see the doc’ now, then if he says we can we’ll be headin’ home.”

John perked up slightly at that, his eyebrows raising. “Really? Shit, all righ’, I’ll change, see where Sadie ‘nd Charles are.”

“Okay, see you downstairs. Get yourself together, you look a mess.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah...” John muttered as Arthur’s smile widened. Looking to Ada, he gave as good a smile as he could. “Mornin’, Ada. You okay?”

“Morning, John,” she smiled, her tone full of affection. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Good, good. Well, I’ll see ya down there.”

“All right, John, be careful.”

“Yeah, yeah...”

Arthur met her gaze as John closed the door with another groan, their smiles matching. Shaking his head, he led her down the rest of the hallway to the stairs. She got down okay, awkwardly and rigidly, gripping at his arm tightly, but a little better than the previous day. The hotel owner was behind his counter once again, smiling warmly. Did he ever sleep?

Charles had bought the rooms for a few days so they had no need to pay, and the owner promised he’d reimburse Charles when he saw him, if they left.

“I hope it’s good news for you,” he called as they headed out the door, and Arthur was once again reminded of why they didn’t live near a town.

Why the hell is everybody so interested in everybody else’s business.

“There it is, ma’am, your chariot,” he announced as they stepped onto the porch, nodding his head at the wagon below.

He hadn’t pointed it out to her yesterday, knowing, as she’d painfully crossed the street, that it would have been of little interest. Now, though, she gazed at it with pure delight.

“Oh, it’s perfect! Do we own it?”

“That we do. A nice little keepsake from our journey.”

She laughed, though the sound quickly morphed into a groan. “Stop making me laugh, it hurts every time.”

“Well, that’s your fault for marryin’ a funny man.”

“Oh, he’s funny all right.”

He side-eyed her, joy spreading through him at seeing her grin.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, c’mon, let’s just get you across the street.”

There were only the two steps up to the office, thankfully, and he knocked on the door before opening it, letting her pass through first.

“Doc’?”

Wallace’s head appeared around the door leading to the back, and at seeing them he stepped in, closing a notebook in his hands. “Arthur, Ada.”

“Doctor Wallace,” Ada greeted, smiling lightly, though Arthur could feel her grip on his arm tightening.

“How are you feeling today, Ada?”

“Fine. Sore, stiff, but fine.”

“Well,” Wallace said as he approached, placing his notebook down on a display table. “Let’s have a look, shall we?”

Arthur placed an arm around her back, his thumb stroking against her side gently, as Wallace lifted her shirt and inspected the bandages.

“A little bleeding, but not enough to be of concern...” Unwrapping the bandages, he placed them by his notebook before stooping to get a better look at the wound. “... Yes, there is also quite an amount of bruising, this area will be very sore and tender for a while...” Ada inhaled a quiet hiss as Wallace lightly touched his fingers around the area.“... The stitches have held, though, and your body seems to be taking its natural course in healing itself.” He then stood, his lips pressing together as he looked between them. “... As a result, I will allow you to return to your home.”

A wide smile spread across both their lips as they stared at him, talking over each other.

“Really? We can?”

“Thank you so much, Doc’—”

They paused as Wallace raised a hand.

“Don’t thank me yet. I’ll provide you with some tonics for the swelling and pain, they won’t taste very nice, and, Arthur, do you have the bottle I left with you yesterday, to clean the wound?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, I’ll give you another.” He gestured at her torso. “I’ll clean this for you now and bandage it, of which I’ll give you some more of, too.”

“Thank you, Doctor Wallace, thank you so much,” Ada grinned, but Wallace had already walked away, heading into his back room.

Lifting her gaze, she met Arthur’s and he pressed a firm kiss to her temple, his hand rubbing her arm.

“We’re going home,” she whispered, and he smiled into her hair, closing his eyes.

Thank God... Thank God...

When he returned, Wallace made swift work of cleaning the wound and bandaging it up. Tying it neatly, he arched an eyebrow as he fixed his gaze on her.

“Now, Ada, please be careful. Once you’re home, rest. I’ll write to Emerald Ranch in a few days to see how you are. I look forward to your reply, and that of the doctor who resides there.”

Ada startled him slightly by reaching out and gripping his arm, her smile having not vanished. “Thank you, Doctor. Thank you very much.”

Inclining his head, Wallace patted her hand quickly. “You’re welcome.” Clearing his throat as her hand left him, he picked up a roll of bandages and two bottles from the table. “Take these and use them, please.”

“I will, I promise.” She took them one at a time and slipped them into her coat pocket, while Arthur cleared his throat.

“Here, Doc’.”

Out of the saddlebag he pulled a gold bar, and offered it to the man.

Wallace’s eyes widened. “Sir, this is too—”

“Please,” Arthur cut him off, holding it out a little further. “Take it.”

The doctor was silent, staring at him, and then he reached out and took it, holding it between his hands like it would shatter at any moment. Clearing his throat, he nodded at them. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” 

Extending his hand to him, a corner of his mouth lifted as Wallace accepted it, shaking firmly.

Raising his eyebrows as he slid the bar into his pocket, Wallace released his hand. “Well, I hope neither of you take this the wrong way, but I hope I never see you again.”

Arthur’s lips lifted higher as Ada exhaled a laugh.

“You, too, Doctor.”

“Well, take care now.” Inclining his head again, he moved behind them to the door and held it open a little wider, giving them a small smile.

They gave another, grateful thanks, and then he was closing the door behind them. Standing on the porch, Arthur heard her take in a long breath. Gazing down at her, he patted her arm and exhaled.

“Well... Let’s head home, huh?”

“Yes, please,” she grinned, just simply unable to contain it.

Moving down the steps, they saw John leaning against the wagon, rubbing at his forehead with a yawn, and Sadie and Charles sat on the porch. Noka and Titan were beside it; John or Charles had probably brought them over from wherever they were. They were standing idly, tails swishing—

“Arthur!”

Their heads turned at the call as they stopped, Ada’s fingertips pressing firmly into his coat for a moment, before their eyes fell on Sheriff Daniel, watching him approach, his hand raised. Falling, it went to his belt, holding onto it.

“Hey.” The easy, warm smile was on his face, and they returned it.

“Good morning, Sheriff,” Ada replied, and Arthur felt her lean some more of her weight against him, starting to tire already.

“Good mornin’ to you both. Headin’ home?”

“Yep, Doc’ just gave us the word now.”

Daniel looked genuinely delighted at Arthur’s answer. “I’m mighty pleased to hear it. I can escort you outta town if you like?”

“Nah, that’s kind of you but we’ll be okay.”

“All right, well, you have a safe journey home now.”

He offered his hand and Arthur took it, shaking it just as firmly and sincerely as he had Wallace’s.

“Thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Daniel just smiled. “My pleasure.”

Tipping his hat at Ada with a quiet, “Ma’am,” he then continued on down the street, heading down towards the stables.

Arthur noticed Ada smiling at Sadie as they headed on towards them, Sadie just rolling her eyes.

Well, I ain’t got the time nor energy to get into that.

“Are we free?” Sadie asked drily, though they all knew Wallace would never bother telling her what to do now.

“Yeah, we’re headin’ home.”

Arthur chuckled as John whooped and Charles clapped his hands together as he stood, Sadie also getting to her feet with a muttered, “Thank the Lord...”

“Hell yeah, we are!” John laughed, slapping his hand against the wagon. As if the action reminded him, he stepped back suddenly and gestured at it. “Hey, look, we’ve sorted this out for ya, made it a little more comfortable...”

Ada and Arthur followed him around to the back of it, and she reached out and patted his arm as she grinned at the sight of it. They’d put blankets in the back, along with a few cushions so she could sit up a little, and Ada beamed at them all.

“Oh, look at this! Thank you, all of you, for this, it’s really...” Clearing her throat, she took in a breath, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “I... I, uhm...”

All their smiles seemed to fade a little as they realised what was coming next, John bowing his head slightly as he scuffed his boot against the ground.

“Well...” She gave a faint, brief smile, her hand sliding into Arthur’s. “... I don’t quite want to leave you all now.”

“We’ll see each other real soon,” John said quietly, meeting her gaze.

“If there’s a weddin’, we wanna be there,” Arthur said, a corner of his mouth lifting.

John chuckled, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah, hell, we’ll see if there even is one.”

“Oh, there will be, she’ll be there waitin’ for you...”

As Sadie and Charles came down the steps, Arthur moved towards John, embracing him tightly.

“She’ll be there,” he repeated, as John patted him on the back.

“I hope so,” he murmured, pulling back with a faint smile.

Tears pricked at Ada’s eyes as Charles approached her, a gentle smile on his lips.

“Charles, I...” She couldn’t finish, and he just nodded, pulling her into his arms. Closing her eyes, tears dripped down her cheeks as she hugged him, holding onto him for support, and just to hold him.

“I’ll see you soon,” he murmured, rubbing her back as she nodded.

Arthur turned from John to Sadie who was leaning against the wagon. Tipping her hat at him, she smiled.

“See you around, Morgan.”

“And you, Mrs Adler,” he smiled widely, nodding.

As Charles and Ada pulled away from one another, sharing a smile, he lifted his head and looked to Arthur. While they embraced, Arthur thanking him quietly once more, Ada blew out a breath with a smile as she met Sadie’s gaze. Tears were still falling down her cheeks and Sadie returned the smile as she stepped closer, shaking her head.

“C’mon, now, I’ll see you at the weddin’.”

“John’s, or yours and Sheriff Daniel’s?”

Tutting, Sadie pulled her in for the tightest hug yet. “Shut up, you.”

Ada laughed thickly, the sound hiding a sob, her chin on her shoulder, eyes closed. “I love you, Sadie Adler.”

Sadie leaned her head against hers, her smile lingering. “I love you, too, lady.”

None of them quite wanted to leave each other.

Ada and Sadie stood with their arms around each other as Arthur, Charles and John attached the wagon to Titan, the permanently calm horse unbothered. When they finally released each other, Sadie took Ada’s hand and squeezed it gently before letting it go. Ada was wiping the tears from her cheeks when John brushed his hands together, stepping back from Titan, and turned to her.

She shouldn’t have bothered wiping the tears away.

They came thick and fast again as he held her, neither saying a word. When he pulled back, he helped her into the wagon, lifting her to sit on the edge as she winced. 

“You look after yourself now,” he said as he released her, and all she could do was nod a few times, sniffing.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair as he came round to the back of the wagon after checking Titan was secured, releasing a breath. Ada reached out to him, sniffing again, and he took her hand, looking at their three friends.

“Well, you all get home safe.”

They nodded, and no one moved.

Arthur looked between them all, keeping a tight hold on Ada’s hand. John was wiping at the corner of his eye swiftly as he cleared his throat, Charles was gazing at them, and Sadie had her hands in her pockets, her eyes on the ground.

“I just wanna...” He knew this wasn’t the last goodbye, but if the past few days, hell, the past few years, had showed anything, it was that if you had something important to say then you said it. “... I just wanna tell you all how much you mean to me, how glad I am to call you my friends, and how thankful I am to you.”

John looked away, his hands on his hips, and Arthur could just imagine what he was thinking.

You bastard...

He could feel himself getting choked up, too, so he just nodded, and looked to Ada as she squeezed his hand. Her cheeks were wet but she was smiling; happy.

“Well...” Arthur said again, looking back to them. “We’d best be on our way.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sadie said in the same moment John nodded silently and Charles murmured, “Farewell.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Arthur took both of Ada’s hands, helping to lower her down onto the blankets. She gave a quiet groan as she grimaced, but once she was settled, she shifted back so her legs wouldn’t dangle, and he let go of her hands.

The three of them stayed where they were as Arthur moved to the front and climbed up, taking a seat and gathering the reins. Feeling them in his hands, he paused, both desperate to leave and not wanting to go at all. Turning in his seat, he looked back at them.

A corner of his mouth lifted as he gazed at them, his chest aching. He looked to John last, and it was only when the younger man gave a smile that he nodded his final goodbye, for now, and softly called for Titan to walk on.

The wagon gave a slight lurch as Titan advanced, but then it evened out, Arthur keeping the horse to a walk. Glancing over his shoulder again, he watched John, Charles and Sadie wave back at Ada, his wife’s arm raised high. He had to force himself to look away, whistling so Noka would follow and steering Titan up the street and then, finally, around the corner. 

He heard Ada release a half-sob, half-breath and turned his head to quietly call down to her, “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, just...”

“I know.”

He felt such a sadness within him, too, but... yes, they would see each other again. As often as they could, he’d make sure of it.

After riding over the train track, there was a short hill to climb just outside of Valentine and a small decline, but then, like he’d told Wallace, it was just straight, flat roads.

They were both quiet as they took the paths home, and he suspected she was sleeping, perhaps just to make time move faster. He was impatient himself but he didn’t dare urge Titan faster than the pace he was now. 

It was a dry day that became warmer the further they travelled, and soon he was having to remove his coat and roll his sleeves up, his hat keeping the sun from his eyes. He stopped once, jumping down to check on her before he gave Titan and Noka some water to drink out of a tin cup from his bag. She was still asleep, and he wasn’t surprised; the real recovery would be starting now.

Arthur nodded at other travellers they passed, though they were few and far between. He was grateful for the quiet, and he managed to not think about all that had transpired, knowing there was time for that later, and that if he started now he wouldn’t be able to stop. Instead, he watched the birds in the sky and the critters that scurried across the path before him until patchy, dusty grass turned to lush green fields. 

As they rolled past the O’Brien’s farm, his heart started to beat a little faster. He took the path around Emerald Ranch, not wanting to be waylaid by any of the farmhands or Nathaniel and Martha. Of course, they’d talk to them later, maybe tomorrow or the day after, but right now there was only one person he wanted to see.

When Newfield’s Rest came into view, he could feel his heart thumping against his ribcage. Driving under the archway, his gaze darted from the paddock to the house.

There was no one to be seen, just the animals grazing quietly.

He pulled the wagon to a halt halfway down the path to the house and stood, dropping the reins onto the seat.

“Hey! Anyone home?”

Jumping down, he brushed his hands against his trousers, looking at the windows and seeing no movement. Licking his lips, he took a step back, and then another, intending to move to the back of the wagon.

And then the door was yanked open and a little, grinning face appeared.

“Papa!”

God have mercy on him, tears instantly stung at his eyes as he laughed, watching Millie Morgan barrel towards him.

“Is that my little angel?!”

He grabbed her once she was close enough, lifting her into his arms and into the tightest hug he could give.

“You’re home!” she cried, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck.

Drawing his head back to gaze at her, he smoothed her unruly hair back from her face with a wide smile. “Hello, darlin’.”

“I missed you and I made a new stick hut for my doll and I wanted to show you it but Chester knocked it over but that’s okay I can make a new one and then I can show you that one.”

He just gazed at her as she rambled on, nodding his head every few moments. “Yeah, yeah, you sure can, angel. I’ll even help you make it—”

“Where’s Ada?”

Raising his head, Arthur found Thomas O’Driscoll stood on the porch, expressionless, eyes darting from him to the wagon. 

Ah, shit, here we go...

Licking his lips again, Arthur turned his body slightly and placed Millie on the ground, even as she made a reluctant sound.

“She’s just—”

“Here.”

Both men looked to the voice, and saw Ada, a hand pressed against the wagon, moving towards them. Her voice had shaken a little and Arthur couldn’t tell if it was from weariness or her tears.

They rolled down her cheeks like a stream as Millie gasped and beamed.

“Mama!”

“Oh, my darling...” It must have pained her considerably, but she dropped to her knees and welcomed her daughter into her arms as the little girl ran towards her, her eyes closing tightly.

“I missed you, Mama!”

Arthur watched her features crumble, her hand stroking her hair. “I missed you, too, darling, I missed you so much.”

“I didn’t eat all your chocolate, I promise!”

“G-Good, that’s very good, thank you.”

She was trying so hard to suppress her sobs, and, after wiping at his eyes, Arthur moved towards them. With an arm around her back and a hand on her arm, he helped her up, hoping the hiss she released would just be interpreted as a strange sob. 

Glancing up at Thom, he knew it hadn’t been.

His brother-in-law stared at him, his stillness a stark contrast to Charlotte who was beaming at his side, her raised hands clasped together.

“Welcome home!” she called warmly, and lifted her skirts slightly to move down the steps towards them.

Arthur looked away from Thom, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach, and met Charlotte’s gaze, smiling at her.

“It’s good to see you,” he murmured as she kissed his cheek, his hands remaining on Ada to keep her up.

“And you! Come on in, I’ll make you both some tea, you must be exhausted.” 

Charlotte was a smart woman so he knew she was ignoring, for now, both the obvious state of Ada and her husband’s reaction. Moving past Thom and entering the house, she didn’t say a word to him, just patted his arm, maybe even squeezed it pointedly, and disappeared inside.

Arthur didn’t bother to see if Thom followed her in, looking away and smiling the moment Millie pulled her head back and beamed at him. He shifted closer to them, allowing Ada the opportunity to lean against him as she kept a tight hold on Millie, and for his other arm to wrap around both of them. Ada’s head rested against his shoulder, gazing at their daughter as she rubbed her back gently.

“Can we have cake?” Millie asked, wonderfully oblivious to all that was happening.

“Of course we can, as much as you want.” Arthur ruffled her hair lightly, making her giggle, and his heart soared.

As Millie rambled on about all the different cakes they had and exactly what order she wanted them in, Arthur turned his head and pressed a lingering kiss to the top of Ada’s head. His fingers stroked against her side, and she released a long, soft breath.

They were home.

——————

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[nostalgiabones]

Alone, But Not Really // Single Dad!Ashton AU

A/N: well! It’s about time we had some Ashton on my blog. This is really different for me! It’s the most angsty thing i’ve ever written so please let me know what you think. It’s over 6000 words which is ridiculous lmao.  Shoutout to @i-calumhood​ for being so supportive and helping me out with this! ❤️(Possible TW of death - but nothing in detail)

“Ashton? We have someone important for you to meet when we get to the buses.”

Cory’s voice broke Ashton from his thoughts, from where he was bouncing Adalyn in his arms, trying to keep her entertained with the multi-coloured rattle in her grasp. He had no idea what day or time it was, or even where they were. It was their first day back touring after over a year off, as well as being Ashton’s first time touring as a parent; more specifically, as a single parent.

The crew had been in two minds about how to handle the situation, ever since the tour was planned and announced. There was no way that Ashton would go on tour and leave her behind. Having just passed her first birthday, she was well and truly attached and reliant on Ashton, and he would not be that parent. He knew how it felt to have a parent leave, and he could never put his sweet baby girl through that. They knew he’d sooner turn down a tour than go without her, so there was never any doubt that Ada would be joining them.

Ashton was stubborn. They all knew that. 

He was reluctant to accept help when it came to his daughter. It had only been seven months since he’d been forced into becoming a single parent. He had been her sole parent for more than half of her life. He could do it; he could be her dad, and they didn’t need anyone else. But that was whilst they were at home, and he didn’t have the band to focus on; tour had always been a mental battle for them all, and adding a baby to the mix was bound to make it much more difficult.

That was where you came in; babysitting for families every weekend had become a side job to earn a little extra money, mostly spending a few hours on a Saturday night watching Disney movies, or playing hide and seek. It was never anything too intense. That was until you received a phone call from a member of 5 Seconds of Summer’s management, asking if you wanted to join their tour, to help out with Ashton’s daughter. 

It was a decision you hadn’t taken lightly. It would mean being away for a good chunk of the year, and babysitting a child you had never met, travelling around with a close knit crew that you had never been a part of. But, it would also give you the chance to travel around the world with an extremely talented band, and get to know them as well as Ada. You’d always wanted to explore the world, and this was a perfect opportunity to do so. 

“Someone important? What do you mean?” Ashton questioned, making sure he had a good grip on Ada as the band started to move through the airport, to head to the tour buses. He didn’t know why this person would only be important to him. The crew were reluctant to make him aware of the situation. They knew he felt as though he didn’t need the help, and he didn’t want it. They thought otherwise; they had no doubts about his abilities as a father, but they just wanted what was best for him. 

“You’ll see. Just please, have an open mind.” 

Ashton was too tired and jet lagged to try and work out who was waiting for him on the bus. All he wanted to do was pass out in his bunk with Ada, so they could both catch up on some well needed sleep. They had a few days to rehearse and such before the first show, which he was grateful for. 

You had flown out at a little earlier than them, already moving some of your things onto the bus, and trying to get settled in. The situation had been explained to you; they’d warned you that it might take Ashton a while to warm up to you, and accept your help. But you understood that leaving a baby in the care of someone he didn’t know would be worrying, especially when the two of them were so used to it being just them.

Hanging around the car park with a few other members of the crew, you spotted the band finally making their way towards the bus. Your heart melted at the sleepy baby girl settled in Ashton’s arms, her messy dark blonde curls a contrast to her dad’s jet black hair. They had matching slightly grumpy expressions, eyebrows furrowed and lips pouted, clearly ready for some sleep.

“There you are! We have some people we’d like you to meet.” Cory greeted you, and you were happy to see a familiar face. You’d met and spoken to him before, and you felt a little less nervous now that he was there to introduce you. “This is Ashton, and Ada.” 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ashton. I’ve heard a lot about you.” You held your hand out for him to shake, which he did, the confused expression not leaving his face. 

“Can someone explain what’s going on?” He asked, the situation still not becoming any clearer to him. He didn’t want to be rude. But he had just gotten off of a long haul flight, and he didn’t see why this conversation was so important. 

“She’s here to help out with Ada.” Cory explained, watching as Ashton took a deep breath at his words, trying to conceal the urge to roll his eyes. “Just an extra pair of hands, for when you’re on stage or needed elsewhere. I know you said you don’t need help, and we believe you, but we just want what’s best for you. This is just to help you out, okay?” 

Ashton was ambivalent about the situation. On one hand, he knew they were just trying to make things easier for him, to give him a break when he would need it. On the other hand, he was a fully capable father, and the thought of leaving Ada with someone that he didn’t know made him feel slightly sick. 

He decided not to bite back. As frustrated as he felt, he didn’t want to make a bad first impression on you, especially if you were about to spend the next few months helping him to raise his daughter. 

“Okay.” He affirmed, sending you a slightly forced, but warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you too. We have a lot to talk about.” 

Cory sent you a reassuring smile and squeezed your shoulder, the small gesture of encouragement making you feel more welcome. You knew Ashton meant no harm; the introduction could have gone much worst. The first few nights were bound to be awkward, maybe even the first few weeks. You were living on the same bus as them, so you would be on hand to help out with Ada whenever Ashton needed you. 

“Hey, i’m Calum.” You were pulled into a warm hug, introducing yourself to the tall, heavily tattooed bass player. “Don’t let him scare you off. He’s very protective over Ada, but he’ll come around. It’s good to have you with us.”

“Thank you, Calum.” You replied, starting to feel less uncomfortable as you were made to feel more welcome by the rest of the band. 

“Come on, i’ll introduce you to the rest of the family.”

***

“It usually takes a while to get her to sleep.” 

You were left alone with Ashton and Ada for the first time, knowing that you needed to break the ice between the three of you, in order to get them to trust you. It almost felt like you were back at school; Ashton reeling off rules and information off the top of his head as you tried to take it all in, nodding understandingly as he spoke. 

Ashton was trying his best to not be so opposed to the situation. It wasn’t your fault. You seemed caring, friendly and willing to help out in any way that you could, and he appreciated that. He just couldn’t stop the nagging voice in his head that told him that he didn’t need you, and that he was fully capable on his own.

“I don’t really know how her routine is going to work on tour.” He continued to explain, as he continued to unpack the seemingly never ending supply of nappies and baby grows, organising them into piles. “We had a good routine at home, but I don’t think it’ll work as smoothly here. She loves her uncles. She’ll get too excited to sleep if they’re around, so we’ll need to find somewhere quiet to settle her.” 

“I’m sure we can do that.” You reassured him, trying to take everything on board. He was still balancing Ada in his arms, her little hands clinging to his t-shirt as he moved around the kitchen. You were reluctant to ask him if you could hold her, but you pushed the reluctance to the back of your mind and decided to ask anyway. “Do you want me to take her whilst you sort your things out?” 

You saw the hesitance on his face at your question, taking a deep breath and kissing her cheek before nodding in your direction. “I’m right here, okay sweetheart?” 

You took her into your arms and settled her in your lap, so she could still watch what Ashton was doing from where you were sat on the sofa.

“Hi, Ada.” You cooed softly, stroking her cheek gently and cuddling her, so she felt safe in your hold. Her big green eyes were curiously studying your face, almost as if she was trying to work out if she knew you, and if she felt okay being held by you. “She has such beautiful eyes, Ashton.” 

He smiled at your words, a sadness seeming to take over his demeanor as he acknowledged your words. He paused for a moment, glancing at her in your arms before replying, “she looks like her mum.” 

Ashton avoided your gaze after he mentioned Ada’s mum, almost like he couldn’t bare to look at you or her in that moment. Being a single parent was tough in any circumstances. But you had a feeling there was something so painful about their situation; that there was more to it than her just getting up and leaving one day. You had so many questions. No one had told you how he ended up as a single father, and as much as you wanted to ask, the sadness in his eyes told you not to. It was far too early for that. He’d tell you when he was ready. 

The three of you sat in a slightly uncomfortable silence for a little longer, as Ashton finished sorting out all of their belongings. Ada got a little restless in your arms, reaching out for Ashton and crying “dada!” until he took her back into his embrace.

“Hi, sleepy baby.” He murmured to her, wrapping his arms around her and stroking through her hair. He looked as though he had missed her for the ten minutes that he hadn’t been holding her for, and you knew it was gonna take a lot longer for him to warm up to leaving her with you. “I’m gonna try and put her down. You can go and find the guys, if you want.”

You nodded and watched as he kissed her pouty lips, grabbing the warm bottle of milk from the microwave and heading to the back where the bunks were. It was clear he just wanted some time with her, and you understood. Walking out of the band’s bus, you headed to the where the rest of the crew were staying, trying to find some familiar faces.

“Hey, there you are. I’m Luke, by the way.” You recognised the blonde haired front man, accepting the friendly hug that he’d pulled you into. “I hear you’re gonna be staying on the bus with us. I hope we don’t scare you off too quickly.”

“If anyone is gonna do that, it’s Ashton.” Another voice piped up, who you soon learned to be Michael. “How are things going with him?”

“I mean, he let me hold her? So I think we’ve made some progress.” You replied, watching as Calum raised his thick eyebrows in surprise.

“He did? You’re doing well so far.” Calum scoffed, patting your shoulder reassuringly. It was slow and steady progress, but hearing their words made you feel a little better. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

***

Later that night, you and the three other members of the band finally made your way back to the bus, finding Ashton and Ada fast asleep on the sofa in the back room. Calum gently shook Ashton’s shoulder, waking him up so he could put Ada down and head to bed instead of sleeping on the sofa.

“Do you want me to take her? I can change her and put her to bed, if you like.” You offered, clearly seeing how tired he was and hoping you’d get a little more time with Ada, so she could get to know you.

“It’s okay, I got it.” Ashton replied, almost coldly, moving to grab Ada’s pyjamas, as she began to stir in his arms. “Shh, it’s alright, baby girl.”

You tried to hide the disappointment in your eyes as you watched them together, trying to think rationally and tell yourself that it was the first night, and he still wasn’t fully comfortable with idea of you being there.

“He’ll come around.” Calum reaffirmed softly, also noticing how you seemed a little deflated by Ashton’s words. “He just needs time.”

***

A few days later and there had been no major improvements; you’d held Ada whilst she napped a few times, and helped Ashton out by changing her and making her bottles.

Your relationship with him hadn’t had made much progress. You tried to be patient, tried to tell yourself that it wasn’t personal to you, it was him telling himself that he didn’t need any help. But the day of the first show had finally come around, therefore, it would be the first time Ada would be left alone with you.

“30 minutes until stage, guys.”

The atmosphere backstage was buzzing, the adrenaline and anticipation for the first show building more and more as time went by. Ashton was rocking Ada in his arms, hoping to get her to sleep before he had to leave so she wouldn’t notice that he was gone. But what he had previously told you proved true - she loved her uncles, and had no interest in sleeping when she knew they were around. Her wide eyes were eagerly looking around the green room, the heavy Australian rock music sounding through the speakers not helping to make a calm environment for her to fall asleep in.

“If she needs me, please come and get me.” Ashton told you, pressing several kisses to Ada’s forehead as he prepared to hand her over to you. “She’ll probably want a bottle soon and then go to sleep. But if she doesn’t, I can come and get her.”

“We’ll be just fine, Ashton.” You reassured him, knowing there is no way you would be allowed to disturb the show, no matter what Ashton wanted. You felt confident that you wouldn’t need to though, and that she’d be fine. “Go have fun, okay? She’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”

He reluctantly handed her over to you, making sure she settled in your arms before grabbing his in-ears to prepare for the show. He didn’t take his eyes from her for as long as he could, making sure she wasn’t crying or didn’t look uncomfortable.

“Wave goodbye to daddy, Ada.” You cooed to her, grabbing her tiny hand in your larger one and waving it in Ashton’s direction, as you followed them to the stage. All four members fist bumped you and Ada as they left, soon learning that this was their pre show tradition, and they did it to every crew member in sight. “We’ll be okay for a few hours, won’t we?”

Ashton went out there and gave the show his all, like he always did. It felt good to be back on stage. He needed the release. It had been over a year since they’d done a show, and he felt great.

He couldn’t stop the looming thought that he had left Ada, that she’d be upset, and wondering where he was. He didn’t want the show to end, but on the other hand, he did. He wanted to shower and cuddle Ada and hold her as she fell asleep; his sweet baby girl.

Ashton all but threw his drumsticks as soon as the show was over and ran off stage, demanding to know where Ada was and if she was okay. When he couldn’t find you backstage and he was told you’d gone back to the bus, he was convinced something had gone wrong.

The sound of the door to the bus swinging open startled you, as you weren’t expecting the guys to be back for a little longer. You were so relieved; the first show had gone well. Ada wouldn’t settle backstage so you’d taken her back to the bus, changing her into her cosy pyjamas and giving her a bottle. She had been a dream, falling asleep after you’d rocked her in your arms, and not making a sound since.

“There you are.” Ashton sighed in relief, almost as if he was expecting you to be elsewhere. His heart melted as his eyes landed upon Ada curled into your chest, fast asleep, warm and content under the fluffy blanket you had wrapped her in. “Was she okay?”

“She’s was perfect, Ashton.” You replied, rubbing your hand up and down Ada’s back as she shifted in her sleep. “I just came back here because it’s quieter, and it’ll get her used to sleeping on the bus. I gave her a bottle and she went straight to sleep.”

It felt foreign to Ashton to see Ada fall asleep on someone who wasn’t him. He had rocked her to sleep pretty much every night for the past seven months, feeling calm and at peace when she fell asleep on him, her gentle breathing managing to slow his racing thoughts. It made him think that maybe she didn’t need him quite as much as he thought she did.

Seeing her asleep on your chest made his heart ache in a different way. It made him think of when she used to fall asleep on her mum, back when he wasn’t doing this all alone. It was hard to see. It made him wish that she had a mum. One that could be here to love and take care of her, like she had for the first five months of her life, before it all got snatched away.

“Thank you.” He murmured soflty, a sincerity in his eyes as you smiled back at him. “I appreciate it.”

“This is what I’m here for, Ashton.”

***

Some days, it felt like you’d taken two steps forward and three steps back.

A few weeks into the tour, Ashton was starting to warm up to your help and trust you more, after you’d managed to take care of Ada every night whilst he was on stage with only a few minor bumps. He had his moments; where he turned cold and all but ignored you, wanting to keep Ada to himself. Today was one of those days; much to everyone’s dismay, Ada had managed to catch a chest infection, and Ashton didn’t want to let her out of his sight.

“Ash, we need to go.” Calum told him cautiously, having been instructed by their manager to coax him away from Ada and off of the bus. They had an afternoon of promo and interviews followed by a show and it wasn’t appropriate for Ada to be there, especially when she wasn’t feeling good. You were meant to be taking care of her, but Ashton was reluctant to leave her behind.

“I told you, I’m not leaving her.” Ashton replied sternly, running a hand through Ada’s messy curls as she snuggled into his chest, coughing sadly. “She needs me today, you can go without me.”

“She doesn’t need you, Ashton. She needs taking care of, which will still happen if you come with us.” Calum’s words seemed harsh and he didn’t want to piss Ashton off, but it could be difficult when he was so stubborn and would refuse to listen to anyone. “I know you worry about her, but she’s gonna be fine for a few hours without you.”

“That’s what I’m here for Ashton, I can take care of her.” You reassured him, reaching out to rub Ada’s back in an attempt to get him to give her to you. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“You promise to text if you need anything or if she gets worst?” Ashton demanded, sending a glare of annoyance in Calum’s direction, even though he knew rationally that it wasn’t his fault.

“Of course.” You understood that he was protective of her. But it hurt sometimes when you felt as though he didn’t trust you to take care of Ada, when you’d given him no reason to believe that you couldn’t. In your heart you knew it ran deeper than that. He was her one and only parent, and he took that responsibility very seriously. “Please, try not to worry. We’ll be okay.”

You really did think you would be okay. However, Ada was not; as soon as Ashton had finally passed her over and followed the guys out of the bus, she hadn’t stopped crying. She was hot, uncomfortable, over-tired, and probably missing Ashton.

You’d asked their manager if you could call Ashton, like you promised, but he declined; he didn’t want any distractions, meaning you had to work out how to soothe her on your own.

“It’s okay, Ada.” You paced back and forth in the small bus, rubbing her back and trying to keep her pacifier in her mouth as she cried. Her chest was wheezy and her nose blocked, making it hard for her breathe as she wailed sadly against your shoulder. “Your dad will be back so soon, sweet girl. It’s okay.”

An anxious feeling was building in your stomach at the thought of her still being upset when Ashton got back. He would not be happy, after you were so insistent on being able to take care of her, and how much he didn’t want to leave.

It hadn’t been Ashton’s best show.

He so badly wanted to relax into it and be able to give it his all, like he usually did. But all he could think about was Ada, about how unwell she was and how badly he just wanted to cuddle her until she felt better again. He wanted to trust you; wanted to feel okay with leaving her with you without it putting him in a bad mood. Maybe he’d get there, eventually.

Or maybe he wouldn’t. That’s what he thought, anyway, when he reached the bus and he could hear Ada crying from outside. The guys noticed how he tensed up and his entire demeanour changed, as he rushed into the bus.

“Has she been crying the whole time?!” He asked you without any other greeting, holding his arms out and immediately taking Ada into them. “I told you to call me. You promised me that you would call if she didn’t stop crying.”

“They wouldn’t let me, Ashton. She’s just not feeling well, that’s not my fault.” You replied, the exhaustion from the last few difficult hours making you a little more defensive than you usually would be. It was understandable that he was worried. It was just getting a little tiring that he seemed to be so frustrated with you all of the time, when you were just trying to do your job.

“This is why I didn’t want to leave her with you. This is why I said I wasn’t going to leave her. She needs me.” He angrily rambled, trying not to let his stress cause Ada any further upset but struggling to hold it in due to his annoyance at the situation. “No one listened to me. I should’ve stayed here with her and she would have been fine.”

“That’s not fair, Ashto-“

“Just please, give us some space and let me look after my baby.” He was tired, and didn’t want to say anything else that he would regret, which he knew he would if the conversation continued.

“Hey, cmon. Let’s go for a walk.” Calum grabbed your arm softly, spotting the tears welling up in your eyes and wanting to diffuse the situation. He gestured for Luke to stay with Ashton, knowing that he too needed calming down even though he wanted to be alone with Ada. Michael took the hint and decided to join you and Calum, following the two of you off of the bus.

The three of you walked in silence as you tried your best to hold back tears, feeling like you’d somehow failed both Ashton and Ada. Evidence of the late night cold temperature appeared as you exhaled, clouds of air visible as you took deep breaths to try and calm down.

“I know it’s hard to believe.” Michael started, breaking the silence as the three of you found a bench at the far end of the car park, overlooking the arena they had just played at. “But it’s not personal to you. He would be acting the exact same way with anyone else in your position.”

“I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” You replied, trying to swallow the lump in your throat and keep the tears at bay, not wanting to cry in front of them. “He seems so frustrated with me all of the time. I’m just trying my best. She’s a baby, they get ill and they cry sometimes. I thought he would understand that.”

“And he does.” Calum reassured you, patting your knee to offer his comfort as he tried to explain. “Ashton is a complex person. He’s been through a lot, especially in the last year. I don’t know how much he’s told you about Ada’s mum, but I’m guessing it’s not a lot.”

“He always seemed so sad whenever I mentioned her, and he never said anything. So I just stopped bringing her up.” You explained, knowing that it was a sensitive subject not only for Ashton but for the whole band. “I don’t even know her name. He’s such a closed book. I just want to get to know him, and I want him to know me so he’ll trust me with Ada.”

“Ada’s mum passed away when she was five months old.” Michael murmured, almost too quiet for you to hear what he said. “There were a lot of complications after she was born. Her body just kind of gave up.”

Your heart broke at his words, and you sighed deeply. It explained a lot. It explained why Ashton was so reluctant to talk about her, and why his entire mood changed whenever she was mentioned. Your heart ached for Ada. The sweet baby girl who barely had a chance to get to know her mum, and now she never would.

“It took Ashton a long time to find someone who he truly felt himself with. She was it for him, you know? They’d only just got engaged before she got pregnant with Ada. They didn’t even have the chance to get married.” Calum felt as though he might be telling you too much, that it should have come from Ashton. But you were here for a reason, and he thought you deserved an explanation for why Ashton seemed to be making it so difficult for you. “He’s always struggled with his emotions. But he’s still healing. He’s so used to being alone with Ada, he’s all she knows. I think he’s just scared to let anyone else in.”

“He wouldn’t accept much help from us either, if that makes you feel any better. We all offered to move in with him after she passed, because he was struggling so much. But he said he could handle it alone, so he did.” Michael added, adding another piece to the jigsaw you were forming mentally, trying to work Ashton out. “Thats what I mean when I say it’s not personal. He wants to do everything alone.”

“You should talk to him.” Calum suggested, turning to look at you so he knew you were listening. “There’s a reason he is the way that he is. But I think you need to hear it from him.”

***

“She just wants to help, Ash.” Luke felt like they were going in circles. He wasn’t sure Ashton had listened to a word he had said, as he walked in circles and rocked Ada against his chest, patting her back to try and clear her chest a little. She had calmed down since Calum and Michael had diffused the situation, sadly clinging to his tshirt in an attempt to soothe herself. “Her only reason for being here is to help out with Ada, and you’re not letting her do that.”

“Ada doesn’t need her.”

Luke resisted the urge to roll his eyes, resting the back of his head against the wall as he sighed. He felt like he was talking to the wall. He had known Ashton for a long time, and had never experienced him being as stubborn as this in his entire life.

“Why are you so against anyone helping you? She has done nothing wrong. She’s given you no reason not to trust her. You and I both know that it wasn’t her fault that Ada didn’t settle tonight. You’re giving her such a hard time.” Luke didn’t want this to escalate into an argument - that was the last thing they needed. But he saw no other way to get through to Ashton, and it needed to be said.

“You don’t understand, Luke.” Ashton felt so vexed, like he was so deep into his frustrations that he had to try so hard not to blow them all onto someone he saw as his younger brother. “Ada only has one parent, and that’s me. Her mum isn’t here anymore, and she never will be. I promised her that I would do everything for Ada. She’s my responsibility, so I should be the one taking care of her.”

Luke sat in silence for a moment, his heart aching at the rant spilling from Ashton. Not one to talk about his feelings, he knew this had been building up for the last seven months.

“Are you worried she’s going to replace Ada’s mum?” Luke asked cautiously, watching as tears pricked Ashton’s eyes, who was looking down at his baby girl, attempting to find a distraction. “Because that’s not what this is, Ash. Not at all.”

Ashton didn’t reply.

“Let us help you both, Ashton. That’s all we want.” Luke continued, noticing how the first tear spilled from his eye and slipped down his cheek. “We love and care about you both so much. You have to let people in.”

Ashton didn’t want to admit it, but Luke was right.

Everyday was another day further away from when he last saw the love of his life; the person he could see himself spending the rest of his days with, building his family and growing old with. She was never coming back. That was something he had tried every day to accept; he thought he had. When in reality, he wasn’t sure he ever could.

“When she feeds Ada, or changes her, or rocks her to sleep, all I can think about is the fact that her mum should be doing that. And she’ll never be able to.” Ashton broke down. Luke quickly moved into action, gently taking Ada out of his arms and holding her in his own, so Ashton could take a moment for himself. Ada quickly settled against him, suddenly making the whole situation much more emotional to him too. The fact that she’d never get to know her mum was enough to break anyone’s heart. And she had no idea. “I’m the next closest thing to her mum. I’m all she knows. I can’t bear the thought of leaving her too.”

“You aren’t leaving her. You’re right here with her, Ash, she knows that. She knows you won’t leave her.” Ada was watching her dad with sleepy eyes, identical to those of her mum, sucking idly on her pacifier as Luke held her close. “You don’t have to do this alone. You need to stop putting so much pressure on yourself, if not for your own sake, for hers.”

***

You, Calum and Michael wandered around the car park for a while longer, trying to lighten the atmosphere and the mood by talking about things other than Ashton’s situation. Your heart ached for him. He was clearly in a lot of pain, but was taking it out on others, and you wanted to get to the bottom of it.

“Hey, you’re back.” Luke spoke as the three of you headed back onto the bus, finding Ashton sprawled across the sofa, Ada tucked underneath his tshirt, against his chest. She had finally fallen asleep, one tiny hand clutching the necklace hanging against Ashton’s chest, like she was trying to keep him there.

“Can we talk?” You asked, Ashton’s gaze breaking from watching Ada sleep to you stood directly in from of him. He didn’t have the energy for this conversation, if he was being honest. But it needed to be said, and you deserved an explanation.

“I think that’s a good idea.” He replied, gesturing for his three band mates to give them some space. They quickly took the hint and moved to the back room, arguing over which video game to play first.

You had no idea what the conversation between Ashton and Luke had consisted of. You couldn’t help but notice his slightly red and puffy eyes, suggesting he had been crying, and you knew this was about to be a difficult conversation.

“I’m really sorry about earlier.” Ashton started, his deep eyes looking straight into yours, offering a genuineness that you had never felt from him before. “I shouldn’t have blamed you for Ada being unsettled. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Thank you.” You replied, giving him a weak smile as an additional thanks. You genuinely appreciated his words - you didn’t want him to think you were incapable of caring for Ada when she was ill. “But I’m sorry too. I promised you, I should’ve been more insistent for them to tell you what was going on.”

“It doesn’t matter now anyway.” He waves his hand at you as a gesture of forgetting about what had happened previously. “I feel like I owe you more than one apology. I know you’re trying, and I’ve probably made it a lot more difficult than it should have been.”

“I just want you to trust me, Ashton. I care about Ada, and you need to understand that I’m here to do just that; care for her. But that doesn’t mean she needs you any less. You’re her dad, she knows that.” You reassured him, knowing there was no point holding anything back. If you’re were going to have this conversation, everything need to come out.

“You’re the first woman I’ve seen care for Ada like her mum used to.” Ashton stated, rubbing Ada’s back as she stirred a little in her sleep. “Except for my mum, I’ve only seen her fall asleep with me or one of the guys. Seeing you take care of her like that, it just... it makes me wish her mum was here.”

It suddenly started to make much more sense.

You were the first person to act as a mother figure to Ada, since her own mum passed, and that had to be hard for Ashton to see.

“I’m not trying to be her mum.” You sighed, moving from sitting oppsite to sitting next to the two of them on the sofa, so the conversation seemed less confrontational. “I’m really not, Ashton. I never thought of it that way, but Calum explained a few things to me. I’m starting to understand how you saw it like that.”

“She’s not going to remember anything about her mum.” He continued, his voice soft as though he was just rambling thoughts that had plagued his mind over and over again. “It breaks my heart. I guess I just got scared that you being here would replace the little memories she does have of her.”

“I’m sorry.” It felt like the only thing you could say.

He shook his head, almost offering you a small smile as he seemed to relax all of a sudden. “It’s not your fault. I’m punishing you for it and that’s not fair.”

It felt like a weight had been lifted. Like he’d finally come to terms with the fact that he was surrounded by people who cared about him and Ada, and all they wanted was to help him.

“You can talk to me, if you want. I’m here for Ada but that means I’m here for you too.” You offered, reassuringly placing your hand on his shoulder as you spoke.

“I appreciate that.”

The frustration that had previously lingered like a dark cloud in the air seemed to have cleared, as you and Ashton sat in a comfortable silence, watching Ada sleep comfortably on his chest.

“Do you want me to put her down?” You asked, with a hint of amusement in your voice, almost like it was a test to see if you had actually gotten through to him.

He returned your smile, chuckling to himself as he softly kissed Ada’s forehead and sat up from the sofa. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

It wasn’t a lot, but it was progress. As you settled Ada into bed for the night before heading to your own bunk, you thought maybe, things wouldn’t be so difficult after all. 

***

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[mxpseudonym]

Ada Is Just Perfect

Pairing: Ada x Reader (femme)

Summary: Ada and Reader meet working at the library. The 1920′s gays amirite ladies?

Length: 2017 words (allegedly)

Warnings: None.

A/N: Wow, she’s finally here and queer and ready to party. I went back in to edit this to be shorter and made it like 500 words longer so... yeah. Also, this piece, like all of my work will not feature violence or shaming of marginalized communities because there’s enough of that in the real world. Use your suspension of disbelief to believe in tolerance.

---

Ada.

Your first impression of her was a reflection of your hope that she wasn't a chatty girl come to London for the excitement, only using the library job to pay for nights out. You thought she was someone to be wary of, but lovely nonetheless.

Your position in the library was a godsend. As your grandmother once scolded you for, you often enjoyed the world you'd built in your head a bit more than what was around you. For Ada, her position seemed to be a godsend for the exact opposite reason. She enjoyed meeting new people and quietly discussing social issues in the corner. Many loved her, and many were skeptical. Mostly the men, like Patrick in the archives, who said she was a gangster and a communist.

You didn't have the opportunity to confirm nor deny rumors as your shifts and breaks never aligned in a way where you could do more than smile softly in passing. It wasn't until the morning Ada volunteered to take over for a bedridden Margaret that you met. You put the kettle on while Peter went into too much detail about the new encyclopedia.

Though Ada worked there for nearly a month, it wasn't until you joined the conversation with your cup of tea that you truly took her in. She was beautiful- cheeks rosy and lips a delicate pink. Her skin was freckled, and you suspected it was soft as well. All of your restraint went to not reaching out and touching. Well, some of it went to deciphering the notes of her perfume without breathing her in.

Ada's eyes flicked to yours and snapped you out of your insensibility. You could feel your own blush as you gave her a small smile. She returned it then rolled her eyes slightly, glancing towards Peter who was going on yet another know-it-all tangent. You stifled a laugh, and no sooner did she make her way over to you.

"You're y/n aren't you?" Her voice sounded so assured as it floated to your ears.

"I am." You nodded. "And you're Ada Thorne?"

"Yes, I'm new." She confirmed it. There was a pause as you grabbed two cups. She cleared her throat slightly, then asked, "Are you also interested in encyclopedias?"

"God, no. You'd think someone surrounded by books all day would learn a thing or two about when to piss off," you said the words without thinking. You nearly spilled the tea you were pouring when you jumped at the sound of Ada's sudden laughter. You looked at her with wide eyes, and she shook her head. A few of your coworkers glanced over in jealousy that someone was actually having fun during Peter's lecture.

"Something tells me you don't get nearly enough credit for wit. Women don't usually though."

"You're right about that." You handed her the teacup, and you both moved towards the hallway.

"Alright, so tell me, what does y/n like to read?"

From then on, you began having more talks. You didn't know when, but at some point, Ada's hours shifted to align with yours. She told you it was because she didn't like leaving too late in the evening. You didn't mind. In fact, you secretly hoped she was a chatty woman after all, and would always stop you mid-shelving to tell you about something in the news about women's rights or the union.

At the next staff outing, a bit of a cocktail party with some academics, you found yourself actually showing up. You never went to these things, and it took the first half-hour for everyone to stop commenting on it. Ada seemed to know her way around well, commanding conversations and working the room. You'd work at the library for nearly over the year and hadn't even heard half of these people's voices.

You could hold your own, but your disinterest in many of the perspectives in the room of men tended to make you grin and bear it while Peter from the archive room explained why women's suffrage was foolish to every woman who didn't have the option to not listen. Your eyes always traveled the place, keeping tabs on Ada. Peter's eyes followed yours when you finally found her.

"Ah, the new girl."

"Woman," you corrected to no avail.

"Heard she's a communist and a gangster." He grimaced.

"How exciting. I'll get to the bottom of things and report back." You shamelessly stole his glass of whiskey and made your way over to the conversation Ada was commanding.

"-It's the power and the power and property of the people," she said. You had to admit that, though it was terrible of you, politics were something you were only shallowly versed in before she showed up. You watched her passion as she spoke, the way her eyes lit up, and her hands moved theatrically. When the men she was talking to got pulled away, she gave you all of her attention.

"You're so passionate." You commended her.

"Well, someone has to be, right?" She shrugged and led you both towards a table that held more wine.

"I would really love to hear your perspective on the strikes." You tried to remain calm as you made your ask. "If you have time one of these days, after work even." Ada turned and caught the gaze that you hoped wasn't as eager as you felt.

"I would really like that. But only if you talk to me about mythology." She bargained. Your eyebrows shot up at her observation. You rarely talked about Greek mythology with anyone but the old man who came to the library every Thursday.

"How did-"

"I saw the way your eyes rolled while Edwin spewed his "Zeus doesn't get enough credit" bullshit." She scoffed, and you couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up in you and spilled out your mouth.

"Your laugh is so lovely," she said abruptly. So abruptly that even her own eyes widened a bit in surprise.

"Thank you." You didn't shy away from the compliment.

It was a dangerous realization, but the more you spent time together,  to hang out more, you began to feel that there was no denying you were flirting with one another. You used things that a few friends had once told you on a night out at a bar when they saw a stranger making eyes at you. You were tipsy and let them coach you on flirting like a modern woman. While that had been undoubtedly awkward, this was one of the more natural things you had done in life. Ada was easy to get on with.

She came in one day with freshly cut hair, and you couldn't help but admire it.

"You cut it," you pointed out as you shelved the infamous encyclopedia. You turned fully, to see Ada looking at you in earnest.

"Well? Do you like it?" She asked, bumping the ends.

"You look so lovely with it like this," you told her.

"Short?"

"In a way you like it," you clarified. Ada smiled to herself, turning to the stack of books at hand then back to you.

"Are you going to join the wild girls and chop your locks into a bob?" Ada reached out and toyed with your ends. You blushed and shook your head.

"Oh, I don't think I have the face for it."

"Nonsense, I think you've got the face for just about anything, y/n." Ada's fingers slipped under your chin and tilted your head up. Your eyes locked, and you could feel your brow furrow slightly. It was such a blurry line to walk along, this feeling. She turned once again to help a patron but was soon back at your side with jest in her voice. "You do look lovely today, y/n."

"Thank you, Ada," you laughed lightly. "I feel like there's an ask coming on."

"There is actually. You may or may not know this, but I cherish our friendship very much," Ada placed a hand over yours, and you looked up in surprise, "and there's a very important man in my life that I'd like you to meet." The shock on your face was evident. A look of realization came over her.

"Oh, no," she opened her mouth to address it when there was the most unlikely interruption.

"Hello, Ada." The call was accompanied by commanding footsteps, and you both turned to see who it was.

"Tommy Shelby in a library," she breathed the words in exhaustion.

"I need to borrow a book about the Russian Revolution," the man announced.

"Shelby?" You questioned. You knew the name, but were so far removed from that life that it didn't even register that Peter meant that Ada wasn't a Thorne after all. She was a Shelby, a Peaky Blinder. Her head whipped around and you could have sworn she gulped before sighing dejectedly and walking to help who you assumed was her brother. You made yourself scant, continuing shelving, but Thomas Shelby's refusal to use the proper voice level allowed you to hear just enough as you located a shelf near them.

"He was nice, maybe I'd like to see him again. Would I be able to do that?" Ada looked at her brother, expectantly. You quietly shelved the book, but she noticed you as you turned. Ada closed her eyes, seemingly in frustration, and sighed momentarily. You supposed she was speaking about the man she'd wanted to meet. Perhaps a husband if she was a Thorne.

Unfortunately, you left before seeing her again on your shift, and it was the weekend.

There was a picnic, but the part of you who acknowledged the soreness in your chest at the idea of Ada being married and you flirting so recklessly made you stay home. You were at the tail end of Sir Conan Doyle's latest mystery anyway. For all your love of it, you were a slow reader, and you'd need ample time to finish. That was the end of that, you concluded. But it wasn't. You kept thinking about going when you were working and reading and daydreaming. You didn't go after all, and you felt sad about it. Your apartment you'd worked so hard to afford alone felt too quiet. It wasn't until Monday you realized that it was actually your world that felt too quiet and it was only Ada saying "good morning" that turned the sound back on.

"You weren't at the picnic." She said softly, and almost painfully, as she walked into the small kitchen area where you were alone and waiting for the tea to boil.

"No, I had... something." You stumbled of your words. You were both quiet, and you'd taken a particular interest in your shoes until you got your nerve. "Are you married?"

"No," she answered quickly. When you looked up, you caught the redness of her cheeks as she flushed in embarrassment. "I was. I'm a widow." She answered truthfully. You nodded and digested the answer.

"And that was your,"

"My brother, yes. Thomas Shelby." She answered. You nodded again. Looking at your shoes again, you thought how to word your next question. Before you could, she answered it quietly. "There is no man I'd like to see again. It wasn't how it sounded. I wanted, and still want, you to meet my son, Karl."

"After Karl Marx?" You looked up knowingly with an eyebrow raised. For the first time, it was Ada who seemed more nervous than you. She nodded, letting out a light chuckle. You nodded again in understanding, this time while fighting a smile. "So you used to chase rats with a revolver?"

"As a matter of fact, I did." She laughed as the kettle finished. She brought two mugs over for you to pour into, now seeming more relieved. "So what suits me better? Thorne or Shelby?"

"I think Ada is just perfect," you said. You poured, and when you looked up, you were almost startled by the thoughtfulness in her gaze. It was her turn to ask,

"Tonight, are you free?"

"Yes."

"Fantastic."