#johns “my love for arthur” already broke me so bad but the 3 WORDS? yeah

[ccrankpalace]

malevolent 44 under th cut (i tried to bury the tags ok)

"and you know that i love you too. and i couldnt do this without you." "i know" yeah im gonna jump off a fucking bridge what the FUCK

[spotofimagines]

No Longer A Secret ~ Isaiah Jesus

A/N: A year later, here’s part 3. I think I’ll make this the last part because it took a lot out of me tbh. I hope you enjoy it!

Requested by: a bunch of you a while ago (sorry for the wait!) [ tagging: @anyasthoughts​ ]

Warnings: pregnancy, family fighting

Summary: Isaiah held up his end of the bargain, now you’ve got to do your part and finally tell your family your secret.

Part 1(Keeping A Secret) - Part 2(Unveiling A Secret)

gif by @pvkyblinders​

More had changed for you in the past few weeks than you thought possible. Being a Shelby meant you were used to drastic change pretty often, but you, along with Finn, were usually the last of your siblings to know what was going on, being kept in the dark for as long as possible.

Being on the other side of the fence this time and having to tell your family this information was filling you with a lot of dread, especially when it came to Arthur. He was volatile with regular news at times, so how bad was he going to be when he heard that the little sister he protects with his life is not only pregnant and engaged but that you stole money so you could hide it from him?

Walking into the Shelby household had never felt so tense. The hallway so small. The dark walls so imposing. Isaiah's gentle touch on your waist made you jump a little bit as you were so trapped in your fear. "You alright, babe?" He uttered in your ear, truthfully knowing the answer would be no but needing some reassurance before you both faced your family. You didn’t answer him, struggling for once to cover how you felt with a lie, but luckily you didn’t need to; with Isaiah, you never really have.

Slowly moving through the house, you shouted out a hello and heard Tommy's voice reply from the kitchen. You were about to make your way to them when the hand you reached out behind you met thin air. Peering over your shoulder in search of the rock you need in Isaiah, he came just in time out of the living room, Finn two steps behind him and tucking an empty tube of tokyo in his inside pocket. You shared a silent greeting through a smile - weak on your side from nervousness and sheepish on his side from being caught - before grabbing Isaiah's hand and carrying on into the kitchen.

The first sight you were graced with was Tommy's frown as he lit a cigarette, nodding his head to you when you entered the room, his frown dissipating when he leant back against the counter and the smoke left his mouth. A stressful morning with business was the last thing you wanted. Everyone’s emotions would be heightened and their tethers near breaking point. The breath in your lungs almost got caught in your throat just at the thought.

But Arthur's voice filled the room before it could. "Y/N, Isaiah, y'alright?" He asked loudly, walking through the room to give an envelope to Tommy, and the cheerful tones told you maybe the stress was on Tommy's shoulders only. You hummed in response, not quite brave enough to open your mouth yet.

Finn nudging past your shoulder by mistake kept you alert to your surroundings as Isaiah went to give a quick greeting to Michael, who sat reading the newspaper with a cup of tea at the table, before pouring some tea for himself. "Watch out would ya," Arthur spoke, shoving Finn playfully to the side, Finn getting out of the way and sitting at the table with a grumble, wiping his nose a bit, "bloody boy." Arthur muttered to himself, his usual temper present but masterfully pushed down, before locking eyes with you still stood in the doorway.

"Y'alright love?" He asked, stopping in his tracks to make sure things were okay. You darted out of your thoughts to look at your brother properly. "Hm? Yeah. Can you stay here a minute though?" You responded, averting your eyes and turning toward everyone else.

Missing the way Arthur shrugged his hands and ventured back to the table, leaning his hands on the back of the last spare chair, you took a breath and steadied yourself.

A quiet rolled over the small room when you picked a slip of paper out of your purse, unfolded it and put it on the table, right under Arthur’s nose for him to read.

A cheque. The first cheque he’s ever seen signed off with your name. A cheque disclosing the exact amount that disappeared from the vault a month ago.

Arthur frowned up at you confused before moving to pick it up himself. “What’s this then?” He asked, looking around at the others for a bit of a clue but finding no help. Tommy rifled through the envelope he’d been given. Michael cast a glance at the cheque then went back to finishing his article. Finn sat scratching his head, keeping himself out of the conversation like he was used to, not that he’d be that much help to Arthur anyway.

When Arthur met your eyes again, you took a deep breath. “The money, from the vault. I’m giving it back.” Arthur’s eyes shot wide, surprised you had been the culprit of the incident (he’d had his eyes on a young blinder he was certain was responsible for a week now).

“You took it? How come?” He frowned again as he asked the question. This one was a little harder to answer. Not only were Arthur’s eyes on you, but Finn was watching you precariously and Michael had let the newspaper in his hand drop on his lap to focus on you too.

You didn’t dare look at Michael, knowing his gaze would stare straight through you and make you crumble under pressure. This money theft had been weighing heavily in the back of Michael’s mind so he wasn’t going to let the answer go without scathe.

“To go to the doctors. I didn’t have my own money to use.” You quickly added, wanting to justify your actions before they could blame you unfairly.

“The doctors?” Arthur repeated, looking over at Tommy again who was still reading through his letter. “What you going the doctor’s for? You’re alright, ain’t you? Nothing wrong?” He spoke, dismissing the reason and not believing you’d have a serious issue without him knowing first.

And that panicked you. Your heart speeding up already. There was something up, something that couldn’t be dismissed, something very well worth seeing the doctor for.

However, a second long glance at Isaiah calmed you down. He stood behind Arthur, porcelain cup of tea in one hand, the other tucked comfortably in his pant pocket. He wasn’t preparing for a fight at all, so why should you? One small subtle nod from him and you knew you’d be fine to speak, regardless of the outcome. He’d be there, Tommy would be there, you wouldn’t find a better chance to say it than now.

“Because I'm pregnant.” The words came out as feebly as you thought they would as you peered down at you feet. Arthur’s eyebrows raised in shock before clearing his throat with a cough that stopped the room from being silent.

“What?” His voice gravelled out of his chest. You looked up to meet his gaze, unnerving and unwavering, daring you to repeat the words he thought he heard the first time.

The movement of Isaiah putting his cup down on the counter had you squaring your shoulders a little. It was a change Tommy didn’t miss when he glanced up after the quiet lack of response, causing him to put the papers in his coat pocket for later.

You repeated yourself, louder this time, more assured despite the clear indifference Arthur's eyes held.

Smoke trailed out of Michael's mouth as he sat up straight in his chair, the cloud dissolving into nothing whilst he folded his newspaper up. Finn didn’t move, quickly inspecting the reactions of Tommy and Arthur before even thinking of speaking up.

Tommy stood still reclined against the counter, cigarette burning between his fingers as he kept his eyes on Arthur and on the door behind you in equal parts, making sure he was prepared for anything that might happen but refraining from acting on it yet.

Arthur’s hand tightened on the back of the wooden chair and his fixed look didn’t let up. He was angry, but he couldn’t quite place his finger on the reason why. Maybe it was because his sweet little sister wasn’t that anymore. Maybe it was because he’d let Isaiah recklessly get his hands on you. Maybe it was because you were young and silly and not ready for this in the slightest. Maybe it was because you hid it from him, and even went as far as stealing, right from the pocket of your family, to stop him from knowing. All of it was hitting him like a dagger in the chest.

His eyes hadn’t left yours before his gruff voice broke the silence again. “Y/N, you better tell me you’re joking now or I swear...” He spoke quietly and your chest shook as you breathed, your lungs tight from nervousness but your shoulders held strong. You weren’t backing down from him, no matter how much your hands trembled.

You shook your head at your brother. “I'm not playing. I'm having a baby, with Isaiah, and I'm keeping it.” Arthur’s eyebrows moved up and down quickly as he sighed out in order to keep his words down. He turned his head toward Tommy, whose face was stoic, not telling Arthur anything at all as he smoked. Arthur’s teeth clenched when he turned back to you, annoyed at the lack of backup from his brother and unsure where to start with his sister.

“You can’t be having a baby, Y/N,” Arthur's voice the only noise in the crowded room. “And why’s that?” You challenged him, his knuckles almost turning white against the chair. Finn's hands fidgeted with the cap on his lap, not wanting to be in the middle of this but not able to escape.

“Really? Well,” he huffed as he stood straight, fingers finally releasing the wooden seat, “you don’t have your own house, you have no cash, you can’t even look after yourself Y/N you’re too young for this!” He listed off the reasons on his hand, voice getting louder with each word that came out.

You put your hands on your hips, frustration mixing with the need to defend yourself as you matched Arthur’s level with your retort. “This is no different to John when he had Martha on her second kid at this age.”

Arthur waved his hand and shook his head. “That’s very different Y/N-"

“How is this different? Why is this any different at al-"

“It just is!” He shouted, slamming a hand on the table between you. You instantly jumped back at the sudden outburst, the boys both flinching too with Michael taking his elbow off the table and Finn scuffing his chair back a bit.

Isaiah stood firmly in his space now and toyed with the cuffs of his jacket to refrain himself from action. Another movement Tommy observed and he internally rolled his eyes at it. Isaiah knew well that this was your time and your situation to control, and that you needed to deal with your brothers in your own way for your own sake. A fight would help nothing right now.

“And before you’re married? Y/N, you aren’t even married for Christ’s sake!”

“You think I'm not married, do you?” You snapped, stopping Arthur from his inching closer and closer over the table top. Tommy’s head shot up in your direction and you could have sworn you found confusion on Arthur’s face before a second later, his and everyone else's attention was drawn away.

Polly opened the double doors from the shop to step through into the kitchen, shutting them behind her. "What in god’s name is going on in here? You're shouting the fucking street down." She chastises through her teeth with a scornful look sent Arthur's way. Neither you nor Arthur dropped your angry stares until Polly's demand of an answer had Arthur stepping away.

"Well," Arthur says, tension in every sound as he walked around the table to Polly's side, "it seems our darling angel girl has gone and got herself up the duff, hasn't she?" He said with bitterness in his words but a thankfully lowered voice as he shot his hand toward you. Polly met your gaze, concerned about the tears that lined your eyes but saying nothing about it yet.

"And that's just so terrible for you, is it?" You spite back, not giving Polly a chance to intervene. You guessed she'd be just as mad as Arthur for you being so silly and reckless, and you needed to fight for this on your own. To Arthur’s point, you had to look after yourself. If not now, when?

However, it isn't the news that's got her concerned, it's the venom in Arthur's words.

"You're not even married Y/N!” He continued his former point, “What are people gonna thin-"

"Well I am getting bloody married aren't I!" You interrupted, throwing your hands up in the anger that's finally caught up with you. Tommy raises his eyebrows questioningly as he keeps watching your movements, a quiet washing over the room again as the boys sat at the table wait for what's coming next.

"I'm engaged," You hold your hand up, your ring glinting in the light, "because Isaiah proposed to me, because he loves me," you drop your hand back to your side in defeat, "more than I can say for some..."

Tommy and Isaiah share a small glance before Isaiah turned to watch you again, leaving that conversation for later, or hopefully never.

After a moment of silent eye contact between you and Arthur, as his chest moved up and down with heavy breaths, he sighed and let his hands drop too.

“You think I don’t love you?” He uttered, “hm?” When he received only silence from you, faced with watching you stare at your feet to avoid him, he almost felt sick.

Everything he does is to protect you, to protect all the people he loves. Even now, as he’s in a blazing shouting match with you, it’s not because he’s angry - no, not truly - but because he’s scared you won’t be okay. Scared that you’re becoming something different to the little girl he practically helped raise. Scared you’ll be going into a world where he can’t protect you anymore.

He can deal with fighting and shouting, but he could never live with himself if you thought he felt anything but love for you.

His breath got caught in his throat and he could sense Polly's eyes burning a hole through his skull. Swallowing his pride, he tentatively asked, “Are you happy?”

“More than ever.” You immediately replied to his sincere-as-possible question.

He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, subtly meeting Tommy's eye across the room - who doesn't move an inch - then walked around the table with his arms out wide, inviting you to him.

He hugged you tightly and you felt his shaky hands settle on your back. “Then how mad can I be?” He muttered and a small smile etched onto your face, eyes squeezing closed which made the tears you’d been holding finally roll down your cheeks. All the strength you feigned left you as you hugged him back, thankful for your brother’s arms to be holding you up like normal.

With Arthur’s acceptance and lack of Tommy’s protest, Finn stood to his feet and as Arthur held your face, wiping your tears with a loving but faintly nervous smile, Finn made his way to you to give his own congratulatory hug.

Arthur took a second, watching his younger siblings before scanning the room to get his bearings again. And he went straight to Isaiah, gripping him under his arm and pulling him close, sternly muttering the typical older brother threats in his ear for only him to hear. You missed the words said but by the slightly distant look behind Isaiah’s eyes you quickly got the gist.

Pulling away from your hug with Finn, you met Tommy’s eyes across the room as he still leant unmoved against the counter, extinguishing his cigarette in the ash tray beside him. He sent you a wink and a nod, the corners of his mouth poking up for only you to catch sight of.

“Don’t worry Arthur, of course I will.” The words from your fiancé caused you to turn just in time to see your brother patting Isaiah’s neck before walking away, mumbling about a much-needed drink as he dragged his feet through the shop doors and the usual bustling noise of the building returned.

When Isaiah’s gaze met yours, the sliver of fear in his eyes was completely overshadowed by the confident love he held for you. You sent him a silent apology with your eyes which he dismissed with a shake of his head. He took a few steps toward you and gave you a quick kiss before squeezing you into his familiar tight hug, whispering not to stress about it into your neck. It was enough to stop you falling to pieces right in the middle of the family kitchen.

Isaiah rubbed his hand over your back and pulled his head back up, an inch from giving you a quick peck on the lips when his shoulders shot up with a hiss. He quickly turned his head with an angry scowl that instantly vanished at the sight of Polly. She tilted her head to the side, getting Isaiah to take his hands off you without a word. Isaiah left the two of you to yourselves to avoid the wrath of your aunt and went to join Michael across the room, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked.

Polly smirked at your shocked face and it grew when your surprise turned into a slight shocked laugh, shaking your head bemused at her actions. She held a cup of tea out for you and you took a step closer to her. Part of you was still wary of what she'll have to say about your pregnancy, but part of you was also comforted by her presence, knowing she'll never let your brothers step too far out of line with you.

"Are you mad?" You asked cautiously, never wanting to assume with her. She was pouring another cup of tea as she answered. "I was a little when I first found out, I thought I'd told you more than enough times to be careful," she shot you a nettled look before turning to face you properly, "then I had about two weeks for the idea to grow on me." Once again she smirked at the shock on your face. Of course Polly knew, you hardly had to tell her anything without her figuring it out for herself first.

"You'll be fine dear, he's not the worst." Polly joked sincerely, clinking your cups and taking a gulp before putting it down on the side again. You’d yet to move, stunned into stillness by her revelation, when her hand lay firmly on your small belly. She stared down in thought for a few seconds, her touch a stark contrast to the sharp slap Isaiah felt a moment earlier.

A feeling of relief you'd only ever felt once before - when John shot a bullet that skimmed your leg at 12 years old – had managed to fill your chest, almost enough to overwhelm you were it not for the grounding touch of your Aunt Polly.

You let her process her mystic prediction as you finally moved, sipping your drink and sending a smirk over to Isaiah to match his own.

Polly looked up at you with a smile spreading over her face and joy filling her eyes. “A beautiful baby girl.”

[moral-turpitudes]

Swan Lake:

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

A/N: This idea came to me at like 3 am and idk why, it’s totally not canon or whatever but it was fun to write. I also don’t know anything about ballet so don’t come for my neck lol. 

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Slight Mentions of/Implied Physical and Emotional Abuse, Descriptions of Death/Fighting etc.

Word Count: 3,977

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

+ Jack Timmons (OC, albeit a shitty one)

Requested: No

Summary: After constant threats of losing her position in a prominent ballet company, Y/N feels trapped in her circumstances. That is until an infamous blue-eyed gangster stumbles upon her one night, helping her leave her past behind, because sometimes that’s the best thing you can do.

“One, two, three. One, two, three.” Y/N counted to herself as she rehearsed in the quiet concert hall. Her nerves still a mess as the ear-splitting voice of her department head played on a loop in her mind. His harsh words stinging as she continued on.

With every leap and pirouette, her toes and tired muscles screamed to be free from their routine binds that held them together. Her corset digging into her skin, the paper thin pantyhose ripping on her knees from a nasty fall, and her feet cracking and bleeding with each new pair of ballet slippers she broke-in. On nights like this, she often questioned what she was doing this for. Was it for glory? For money? For distraction? It seemed only time could tell.

Unbeknownst to her, a man looked on from the dark entrance. A cigarette in hand as he observed her movements. His eyes alert as he’d heard a man yelling moments before.

Smoke escaped his lips as he watched in silence. The only music coming from inside the woman’s head, her body moving in strict motions to the beat she’d memorized from the orchestra that would usually play during shows. Her instructors voices in her head, threatening to fire her if she didn’t do better.

She never thought that something that brought her so much joy could bring her so much pain, but that seemed to be how things went in life, at least for her.

As she ended her dance, she sat on the cold stage, untying the stiff slippers and wincing as the fabric clung to her bloodied feet. No matter the cloth she put around them, she always found cuts and blisters ambushing her skin. This was the price she paid for perfection. Dancing was her “thing.” Her one gift to the world. The one thing that she’d always have, that no one could ever take away from her.

But with tear filled eyes she looked up at the spotlight beaming down on her, the makeup that was once well kept, slowly being washed away by the tears rushing down her cheeks.

As she ripped her gaze from the blinding light, she thought she felt eyes on her. Feverishly blinking the colorful spots on her vision away as she looked out into the empty seats, where a set of blue eyes stared back, their owner stoic and unmoving.

“Hello?” She asked, her heart racing slightly as she painstakingly walked off the stage and down the middle isle towards the man. Trying her best to wipe her tears away.

“Sorry to startle you miss. Just observing.” He said gruffly, cigarette smoke escaping his lips.

“Why are you here...? What’s your name...? Who do you work for...?” She asked in a barrage of questions, her nerves frazzled as she stood before him.

His blue eyes pierced hers as he took in the state of her. Elegantly hiding the pain behind a powder pink façade.

“I stopped in while on business and I heard yelling.” He said, adjusting his peaked cap, the razor blades glinting off the dull light from outside the theater.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she realized what gang he was a part of. Remembering talk around the city that they were moving in on London. Making threats and crashing party halls more often than not.

“Everything’s fine, sir.” She said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

“You don’t look fine.” He said.

“You haven’t answered my questions, sir.” She said, deflecting his comments and looking at him skeptically. With a sigh, and a long drag from his cigarette, he spoke.

“My name is Thomas, Thomas Shelby. But you can call me Tommy if you like...” He said walking towards her. Her heart racing slightly as she stood in place.

“...and I’m a man who does bad things. But don’t worry love, I have no bad business with you.” He said, gradually walking towards door.

“Wait....” She said, looking around the empty theater nervously as he stopped in his tracks.

“Why exactly were you watching me?” She asked, walking to him.

He sighed as the cigarette burnt down to the last little bit, ending with him throwing it on the tiled floor and stomping it out.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright....and then I saw you dancing to no music. It intrigued me.” He said flatly.

“How so?” She said, crossing her arms at the infamous gang leader.

“Because I can hear it too.” He said.

“You memorized the song? How? You haven’t seen the show.” She said, walking down the stairs with the mysterious man.

“My mother used to play it at home and she’d dance, quite like you. I recognized the routine.” He said, standing near the exit. The streets bustling with people under the moonlit sky.

“You don’t look like someone who listens to music. Do you dance?” She asked, beguiled by the rather handsome blinder.

“I liked a lot of things before the war. Dancing was one of them. But now?.....No.” he said shaking his head slightly as he continued.

“Sometimes life has a way of taking things from us.” He said softly, lighting another cigarette as he stood before her.

“That it does.” She said, glancing at her tired hands as he observed her once more, how she stood and how her hair fell limply around her face, framing it ever so gently.

“I’m probably overstepping my bounds...Tommy. But uh, if you’re ever in need of dancing lessons...I can help. Free of charge.” She said, the thought escaping her lips on a whim. Her mind racing with wanting to dance anywhere but there in that dreadful theater.

“Free of charge aye? Do you make a lot at these shows?” He asked, his eyes boring into hers.

“No. I’m actually on my way out. Was almost fired for the last show. I wasn’t good enough.” She said looking down.

“That’s a shame. I thought you did great.” He said.

“Tell that to the department head. I’m tired of ruining my body for something that doesn’t pay. I’d rather do it for fun. At least then life might be worth living.” She said, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her pent up feelings slowly trickling out as the minutes passed.

“What do you do for fun, Tommy?” She asked, changing the subject.

He stood in thought, never really taking into account anything besides the noise in his head or the ache in his heart. Never giving himself the time for anything reminiscent of fun.

“I uh, work with horses I guess.” He said.

She nodded and sat in a chair near the exit, wincing and fiddling with the tulle of her tutu.

“So what do you say? Dancing or no?” She asked, a small smirk playing at her lips.

“I’ll accept your offer, on two conditions.” He said.

“Alright, what are your conditions oh infamous Mr. Shelby?” She asked, seeing a small smirk on his face. One that seemed to be uncomfortable, like it had been hidden for years.

“That you give me the name of your department head, and let me employ you.” He said bluntly.

“I’m not a killer, I’m just a dancer.” She said, looking down at her wrists. Bruises forming from many routines throughout the week and from her vile department head.

“You won’t deal with that kind of business. But I’d like to pay you. I can see that you work hard for what you want.” He said sitting next to her.

“You want me to dance for you? What like at some whore house?” She scoffed.

“No. You can dance for fun or teach or whatever it is you want to do. But a job with me, in my shop, can bring you the money you’re looking for. You won’t have to beat yourself up anymore.” He said, noticing the bruising hand prints around her wrists.

“I’ll think about it.” She said quietly, getting up and stretching out her arms, her muscles aching at the movement. Thomas headed towards the door abruptly, not wanting to keep her any longer considering he’d given orders to his brothers a while ago.

“Hey...” She said, stopping him.

“Mhmm?” He mumbled, lighting another cigarette.

“His name is Mr. Timmons. Jack Timmons. I hope you find him.” She said giving him a small, hurting smile before heading back towards the theater.

“Oh and miss?” He called back, making her turn around.

“Yes?”

“I never got your name.” He said.

“It’s Y/N...Y/N Y/L/N.” she said. Thomas nodded and reluctantly turned around, walking slowly into the night the next man on his hit list already buzzing through his mind.

As he stepped onto the cold London streets, he saw his brothers drinking and waiting by the car. Their faces covered in smoke-residue from their mission.

“Oi! What the fuck took you so long aye? We torched the bar down the road so we need to go.” Arthur said, taking a swig from a bottle of whiskey he’d stolen.

“I was doing a bit of legitimate business. Did you lot get the money?” He asked, revving the engine and peeling out onto the cold, damp roads towards Small Heath.

“Yeah. Got the whole thing. They won’t mess with us again. What kind of business were you doing in a fucking theater?” Arthur asked.

“Probably fucking one of the dancers.” John said, the toothpick dangling precariously on the edge of his mouth.

“I saw people leaving the show and decided to go there to clean off from our last raid. And I heard a man yelling at some woman there. He’s uh, been a bit of a problem but I can’t tell by how much just yet. He’s been working the woman to death for little pay...so I offered her a spot here.” He said.

“Why are you so caught up on the woman? What, is she gonna dance around the shop all day?” John asked, earning a chuckle from a drunken Arthur.

“I’m thinking she’d make a good assistant. I watched her after he left. She was the only one there, working on the same routine for an hour straight. Was bleeding by the time she was done.” He said.

“Well besides the woman, what are you wanting to do with the man aye? We’ve caused enough trouble here so far.” John said.

“I have a feeling this man is abusing the whole company or at least the woman I spoke to. She’s miserable, you can see it in her eyes. I only saw eyes like that in the trenches.” He said quietly, looking out at the sky through the thin windshield.

Over the next few days, it seemed her plight only grew as the dancers rehearsed, their instructors criticizing more than helping them as they moved to the beat. Y/N’s eyes fearful as their department head entered the room. The music stopping as they all sat on the stage as instructed.

Behind the stage, Thomas watched silently as the instructor eyed the women. The mans eyes only seeing money and fame instead of them as people. But his gaze seemed reserved for Y/N especially.

She was bruised from the repeated practice, the falls, and from the mans calloused hands that beat her beyond the theater walls. Threatening to fire her if she didn’t improve. Claiming he was “trying to save the company’s image.” Telling her she’d be working the streets in no time if she failed again.

Even though she tried her best, often putting in more work than her peers, it still wasn’t enough for Mr. Timmons and his dreadful company. The only thing getting her by was knowing that after the big show, things would settle down, knowing he’d go back to just yelling at her and occasionally at the others, instead of talking with his fists. But the pay remained the same, barely keeping a roof over her head throughout the years.

“Y/N, I’ve seen your performances these past few weeks and they’re all the same. The turns are too loose, your footing is off, and you’re out of step with the others. I don’t see why you can’t do better.” He said loudly as she stared him down. White-hot tears brimmed in her eyes as her face heated up in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. None the wiser to the blinder who’d watched it all unfold.

“Meet me backstage after this will ya? We have to discuss some matters over your position here.” He said, walking to the next girl and nodding his head. He moved on from each person giving small snide remarks, but they were nothing compared to what she’d gotten, and it filled her with rage. With a sigh, she wiped her tears and stood up. Decided then and there that she’d walk out. To make a scene like she’d dreamt to during the 5 years she’d worked there.

“Mr. Timmons...the only thing you’ll be doing backstage is shoving these up your ass.” She said, chucking the bloodied ballet slippers at him before exiting the stage and going to her dressing room, locking the door.

Thomas watched silently until Mr. Timmons excused the rest of them, leaving only him and the poor excuse for a man in the dimly lit area back stage.

As the man walked with a master key towards Y/N’s dressing room, Thomas quickly came up behind him. Hitting him in the back of the head with his gun and wrestling him to the floor. The man screaming through a bloodied mouth as he landed punch after punch to his face. Thomas soon removing his cap and slicing the mans eyes, blinding him instantly before shooting him.

Y/N watched from the doorway, dressed from head to toe in her normal clothes she’d came in with. Her eyes red and swollen from crying and her body aching from the mornings work.

She stood there silently, the sight of the man who tormented her making her smile slightly as she realized she was free of him.

“Y/N....” Thomas said, wiping the blood from his face as best he could as he stood up from the mans limp body.

“Thank you.” She said, sniffling a bit as she kept her tears at bay this time. Walking quickly out the door to the outside of the building, the cars whizzing by as the cold wind crept through her clothes.

Thomas quickly draped a nearby blanket over Timmons’ body, dragging it to the dressing room. But before leaving he retrieved the master key from his limp hand, locking the dead man inside as he cleaned up the mess from his handy-work.

As he looked in the bathroom mirror minutes later, he could see the blood on his skin, the metallic smell barely phasing him as he washed it down the drain. After cleaning up, he headed out the door, finding Y/N sitting on the pavement smoking a cigarette.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked, sitting by her and lighting his own, his hands bleeding slightly from the blows to Timmons’ face.

“Why not.” She said, fiddling with a pink ribbon in her hands that once kept her hair tightly in place.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He said, sighing as he looked out at the mid afternoon sky. The city bustling around them.

“It’s alright. I’ve wanted that to happen for 5 years. Don’t worry though, after knowing him, nothing really scares me.” She said with a small smile, relief finally hitting her as she realized she’d probably never have to face the man again.

“He’s dead though right? Like you made sure he’s never coming back?” She asked, her eyes still nervously scanning the roads out of habit as the doubt crept in.

“He’s never coming back. I’m burying him tonight.” He said.

“Make sure it’s deep.” She said, the bruises on her wrists more prominent in the daylight.

“Always do.” He said looking at her wrists with a clenched jaw. Knowing full well Timmons was behind it.

“I’ve uh, thought about your offer by the way.” She said looking down at the ribbon.

“You have aye?” He asked, flicking the ash from his cigarette. Her voice bringing him out of his thoughts a bit.

“Yeah. I’d like to try it out, if you’d still want me there. I don’t know what a ballerina could offer the company but, it beats where I was.” She said, cringing internally at all the painful memories which unfortunately often overshadowed the good ones.

“I’ve seen you work hard so far, so I figured making you my assistant would be a good position. You’ll come in at 8, and leave by 6 on most days.” He said.

“Most days? What happens on the other days?” She asked.

“On those days you keep busy so you don’t think about how or if we’ll return. You’ll help keep the shop in line along with my aunt Polly until one of us walks through the door. For your safety.” He said.

“Do all the assistants and secretaries work that late?” She asked.

“Only on those nights they do.” He said.

“Alright. May I ask one question?” She said.

“Mhmm.” He mumbled, blowing smoke from his lips. He stared at her while she thought over her words, her eyes not as miserable as before.

It made him feel better knowing that even though he couldn’t save the men in the trenches, he could at least save her. Someone who shared their same eyes, their same exhaustion, their same fear of not knowing what was next.

“Why me? You could hire anyone else. Any other woman for that matter. But you chose me...” She said, putting her cigarette out on the damp dirt road.

Thomas sighed for a moment, not wanting to tell her he couldn’t help but fall for a beautiful woman even though they’d just met. No matter her profession, he didn’t expect a ballet dancer to steal his heart so quickly and effortlessly.

“I could see you were different.” He said.

“How so?” She asked, his answer not enough as she looked into his eyes. They were like looking into the ocean, threatening to pull her under.

“When I came in after doing some business and saw you there practicing, you intrigued me. You were dancing with no music, but still trying no matter what happened.” He said.

“You saw me fall aye?” She said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, but I also saw what you did after....It’s always about what someone does after the fall, that makes a person who they are. I guess I chose you because you didn’t give up.” He said.

“And I thought it was because I was wearing a pretty pink ballet costume.” She said, smirking.

“That might also be a reason.” He said with a smirk. After a long pause, he spoke again, this time more quietly.

“For the record Y/N, I truly don’t see why the others treated you like they did....But I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He said.

“A man like you making promises? That’s a bold move.” She said, her heart racing as she held his hand gently, nervous to touch someone in a way that wasn’t done in self defense.

“I’m a bold man.” He said, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“Oh really?” She said with a smirk.

“I can show you.” He said, leaning towards her as she did the same. She couldn’t help but feel differently towards him. He didn’t make her feel scared or on-edge like so many people before her. Instead oddly enough, the dashing blinder made her feel safe.

It was in that moment that he too realized he hadn’t felt this way in a while, since before the war. The only comfort he’d ever found previously was at the bottom of a bottle or beneath the sheets in a brothel. The feelings felt out of place, the noise from the war competing with the song in his head, the same one from her shows. The same one from years ago at home.

With a calloused hand, he caressed her cheek, looking into her as eyes as the sun shined into them. Their color illuminated by its rays as he brought her lips to his, a wave of relief washing over him as he felt her relax into the kiss instead of pulling away.

“So...when do I start?” She asked after he broke the kiss, her eyes trailing to his lips.

“Tomorrow. I can pick you up.” He said.

“Won’t you be tired from burying Mr. Timmons? I can drive myself.” She said.

“It’s not my first time burying someone love. I’ll swing by in the morning.” He said, getting up.

“Alright...see you then.” She said, a genuine grin forming on her face for what felt like the first time in years as she watched him head off towards his car.

Over the next few weeks, she became acquainted with everyone in the shop. Polly taking a special liking to her as she loved dancing as well.

“You’ll never catch me dancing ballet. Maybe a waltz but never ballet.” She said one morning.

“I can teach you, it’ll do you some good. Keep you strong.” Y/N said, thinking about how she’d get by with teaching in her cramped apartment.

“Tommy taking classes from you yet?” She asked with a smirk.

“God no. I think he only said that to get me working for him.” She said, thinking back to his first deal with her.

“What are you two talking about aye? We have work to do.” Tommy said, walking into his office where they sat in his chairs nonchalantly.

“Pol was just asking me if I’d taught you to dance yet. You did say you used to...but there would be no ballet of course.” She said, smirking at him as she blew smoke from her lips.

“Well, I have business at the races soon so I guess you’ll have to teach me. Especially since I’ll need someone to accompany me.” He said.

“I never thought you’d ask. What shall I wear?” She asked.

“Something red.” He said, giving her a peck on the cheek before heading out the door.

Their banter carried on like this months after her employment. The only thing different though was where she stayed. Everyone knew he’d had the hots for the woman as soon as he laid eyes on her in the theater. John joking that going to London was the best decision Tommy had ever made. Seeing as she helped him find himself again even if it was just in simple ways. From the nights spent keeping the sounds of the shovels at bay, to the weekends spent helping him learn a few dances. They both healed each other with each step. He never thought he would enjoy dancing or even something as simple as sleeping ever again, but she helped him and he helped her, and he felt the only way to pay her back was to help her still live out her dreams. Eventually converting one of their many rooms into a dance studio, where she’d help teach children on the side, without mean words and harsh fists beating her down.

By this time, she finally knew what she was dancing for, or more so who. And it pleased Thomas to see the life finally return to her eyes as she did so. Knowing that one of the best decisions she made was to dance for herself. Even if it didn’t garner any grand applause, she knew she had people who cared, and who saw the value in what she did, considering it was her gift to the world after all. Even if it was the gangly Shelby family as her audience, she knew it was better than any theater.

Thomas Shelby Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx,

@lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore​, @xxbeckybeexx-blog​

If you’d like to be added or removed, just send an ask/message! :)

[fedeipox]

The Way of Time (Rdr2 fanfic) - Chapter 9 (1/3)

I’m back with my sh*t!! I should definitely keep writing, but I’m so full of things to do... 

Chapter 9 (1/3) - Good morning, bad news

Words 3,3k

It took a little before he opened his eyes. First he regained consciousness, stretched his back on the hard ground covered by the old worn blanket, and then he tried to yawn. I say he tried because when he opened his mouth immediately a pain on his lower jaw forced him to close his mouth again and squeeze his eyes in a suffering expression. 

“Ahi, coño” he swore and brought a hand to cover the right cheek.

That beast, the day before, had almost broke his face with that huge punch he had given him, and if it wasn’t for Arthur, who had distracted him, he would have been a headless Mexican by now. He wondered how Arthur was doing after that fight. He was the one who had got worse, being beaten by that big man in the middle of the road. 

He finally decided to open his eyes and check if Charles was still asleep next to him or he had already woken up. He was already up of course, he didn’t expect otherwise. Sitting up, Javier also realized he had a terrible pain on his left ribs, but this time he had no idea of who among all those men inside the saloon had been the one to hurt him there. 

“Hey, you getting ready?” he asked to Charles when he reached him near the horses.

“Ah-ah. We must meet with Trelawny in one hour.”

“I know, I know. Give me a minute” he said turning around and slowly heading to the kitchen.

He needed coffee, and something to eat for the journey. He greeted Pearson, Miss Grimshaw, Abigail and the Adler widow on his way to the coffee pot and as soon as he kneeled down and put his hands on it, Emily showed up.

“Arthur told me about the bar fight. How are you?”

“Fine enough.”

“You have a bad bruise on your face. You should put something on it, like some ice.”

“Where do you think I can take ice?” he snorted pouring himself some coffee.

“Right. I better reach Charles. I want to check how is he and then we should go out for the lesson.”

“We’re leaving” he informed her standing up with a grimace of pain.

“Leaving? Why?”

“We found Sean. We’re going to rescue him.”

“Sean, really? Have you told Karen?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, I’m going to tell her now! Good luck Javier!”

As she said that, she run away with her skirt fluttering in all directions. Javier shook his head, finished his coffee in a few gulps, took a couple of bean cans from the supplies and went back to Charles. In fifteen minutes, they were already leaving. 

Karen had just woken up and she sat upright to stretch her back and rub her eyes. Abigail, who was already up, walked right in front of her, but she didn’t say anything, not even a ‘good morning’. Everybody in camp knew that they didn’t have to say a word to Karen in the morning, at least not until she had drunk her coffee and smoked her cigarette, especially her cigarette, or she would have summoned all the powers on earth and sky to make a lighting strike you exactly where you were, leaving only a pile of ashes on the ground. 

Everybody knew that, except Emily who came running with a big smile on her face, or as Karen described her in her mind, the most idiotic expression she had ever seen. The hell was she smiling for so early in the morning?

“I have to tell you something that will make you…”

“Fuck off.”

“But…”

“Fuck off!”

“It’s about Sean.”

Despite the fact that she wanted to kill her at that moment, Karen looked up at her and that was all Emily needed to start talking.

“Javier told me they found him. Charles told me the law took him captive, but they’re going to rescue him. Aren’t you happy?” she said clapping her hands and making some little jumps that made her look more stupid than usual.

“Delighted. Now, please, will you FUCK OFF!”

Emily jumped at those loud and rude words, and turned around with a scoff.

“Screw you, Karen” she replied running away.

Karen stood up and slowly headed to the kitchen and only when she took the first sip of coffee she actually thought about what Emily had told her. 

So, Sean was alive. Good. No, not just good, GREAT. She missed him, she was hoping so hard that he wasn’t dead, and she couldn’t wait for him to come back. 

Karen shook her head. The hell no. He was a pain in the ass. He was a little piece of shit with the biggest ego she had ever seen in a person. As soon as they had seen each other, he would have surely started with all that fantasy about her being in love with him.

But of course she loved him. He was an idiot sometimes, but she did love him, she just couldn’t tell him. And yes, she couldn’t wait to see him again, and sit with him by the fire and sing one of those beautiful songs he knew, with that terrible voice he had that made him sound like a dead cat.

Karen smiled to herself and then pushed away the feelings and the thoughts, taking another sip and preparing for a day of work with Miss Grimshaw.

...

Javier and Charles weren’t the only couple that was leaving that morning. Walking again next to the horses, Emily spotted Lenny and Micah loading the last things on their saddles and she walked closer both pushed by the curiosity to know where they were heading and to tell them Sean would soon be with them again. 

“Dutch told us to go to Strawberry. See how things are lying in West Elisabeth, find some opportunity. I guess Sean will be here by the time we come back, so we can have a party” said Lenny.

With most of the men gone, the camp soon became silent and at Emily’s eyes it appeared also extremely sad.  The empty tents and campfires made it look like an abandoned place and she hoped that moment wouldn’t last much and that soon everybody would have come back.  

Her mind went to Arthur and about how he was doing with the reverend. She had thought that rescuing him wouldn’t take much time, but she was wrong because she didn’t know Arthur was having a hard time at the Flatneck Station.

She decided to spend that time finishing the oil for John’s scars and when she was done, she went looking for him. 

He was seated at one of the tables and he was studying a piece of paper with a lot of lines and names on it.

“You people seem to have a thing for maps” she laughed sitting next to him.

“Excuse me?” he asked frowning.

“Never mind. I’m done. Here’s the oil” she said leaving the jar on the table, which John took to study.

“It’s still too soon. You have to wait for those cuts to heal completely, which will take a week more, I think, and then you can start using it” she added.

“Well, thank you, I guess.”

“What are you doing with that?” she asked pointing at the map.

“Looking for a place to rob. A town, a ranch, something in the surroundings that could make us gain some money.”

Emily didn’t like the fact that he wanted to rob some people in a town or in a ranch, but she asked anyway: “and, have you found something?”

“Hosea said Valentine is a live stock town, so they should sell, what? Cows and sheep in there?”

“I’ve seen sheep when I’ve been there” Emily informed him.

“And the nearest place to have sheep may be this “Emerald Ranch”. We could go and find out if they are preparing some for being sold.”

“We?”

“Well, yeah I guess…”

John turned his head from left to right and checked the place like he was looking for something.

“There’s no many folks left, so I guess… I can’t bring Bill, he’d ruin everything so… maybe I’ll go alone” he ended looking again at the map and shaking his head.

“If you need a hand, and you just have to check something, I can come with you” proposed Emily. 

“You?” asked John looking at her.

“Why? Because I’m a woman?”

“N-no…”

He wanted to say “because from what I heard you are as dumb as Bill” but her face made him understand that it was better if he didn’t utter that sentence.

“Yes, yes I think I can bring you with me” he said in the end. 

“Good. When?” she asked.

“Well, I still don’t know. I’ll let you know.”

“Okay. Remember: everyday, twice a day, and your face will look much better in a month” she added tapping on the jar before standing up to go away.

...

Arthur left the reverend under his tent just when Miss Grimshaw came closer to ask what had happened.

“Just… the usual” he replied with a shrug.

“Poor bastard.”

“He was lucky, this time. Real lucky” he said going away. 

He couldn’t believe the crazy chase that man had forced him to do that morning, and he was feeling already tired, but there was no time to rest.

He went looking for her. He wanted to tell her about his discovery, even if he already knew she would freak out at the news.

She was speaking with John. He waited until she stood up to go away and in the meantime he observed how the two of them looked so distinct from the distance: John so ugly, scarred and mean, Emily so pretty and neat. It must have been the same impression Arthur gave to the deputy when he walked inside the sheriff’s with her.

And how? How could Arthur walk beside her in the street and not feel diminished by her presence? And how couldn’t she notice that?

He took a deep breath and reached her.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you’re back. How’s the reverend?”

“Alive, for now. I found him. I found one of the men in the photographs. The pig farmer.”

“Emmet Granger?”

Emily already knew the people in those photos by heart. 

“Yeah, and… well, I asked him about Calloway, but uhm… he wasn’t very pleased and… well I had to shoot him.”

“YOU DID WHAT?” she exclaimed bringing her hands to her face and covering her mouth in shock.

“Hey, he kept threatening me, and humiliating me, so first I returned the favor. Then, I was going away but he engaged me in a duel. I couldn’t…”

“You returned the favor?” 

“I made pig shit rain on him.”

Her face changed immediately from shocked and disappointed to funny and goofy: she was trying to restrain the laughter. 

“You did what?”

“I-I put dynamite in a pile of pig shit and made it rain on him.”

She busted out laughing and Arthur smiled at her amusement. He expected another reproach for his behavior, not a laugh. 

“Anyway, I couldn’t leave without taking care of him” he said in the end.

“Jesus, Arthur” she whispered and brought a hand to hide her eyes, still smiling, but forcefully returning to a serious demeanor. 

“You didn’t have to kill him.”

“Yeah, well next time why don’t you try to convince a crazy old man to talk about his past as famous gunslinger.”

“I would have if you had brought me with you! You promised I could come.”

“Believe me, you haven’t missed much.”

“But next time I’ll come with you. Say it!”

“Okay, okay. Next time we’ll try to convince the asshole together.”

...

Emily sighed and looked at his face. She wanted to ask more details about how Granger had died, understand if Arthur was just defending himself or if he had started the thing, but at the same time she was afraid to know he had been the one who started it. She didn’t want to think about him as a murderer.

“At least you found something about Calloway?” she asked in the end.

“Nothing.”

Silence fell between them, an embarrassing silence. Emily couldn’t remove from her head the image of Arthur shooting someone in cold blood, and at the same time, that image reminded her of something similar she had done recently, and the weight of her actions was starting to be felt again on her shoulders. Arthur cleared his throat before finding an excuse to leave, breaking the silence and the tension. 

She couldn’t believe those people knew nothing but violence. It seemed they didn’t even try to find an alternative to killing, some way to convince people that wasn’t pointing a gun to their heads. She had created an idolized idea of them at the beginning, but that idea was starting to fade away. 

But she had to admit the shower of shit was funny. She smiled again thinking about it. It must have been like one of those scenes in kids cartoons, like Mickey Mouse or Duffy Duck, just more… dirty.

In a couple of hours, in addition to everybody leaving camp, Arthur and Hosea decided to leave too. They wanted to go looking for one of the legendary animals in Hosea’s map. They called her intentionally to tell her about it, and not only that. 

Arthur had already removed the saddle from his horse and he was tapping his hand on its back.

“I’ll leave Drover to you. Take good care of him, he’s a good horse” he said.

“You’re leaving it to me? And how… how will you travel?” she asked.

“I’m going to sell this one” he replied pointing at the big black horse next to him.

“And in the meantime, I’ll buy a new horse. Drover is good, but sometimes he gets scared easily, so be careful when you ride him.”

“I will” she said, but in her mind she was thinking she would have never tried to ride him on her own.

She looked at them mounting on the horses and disappear into the woods. And now, the camp really felt empty. However, Miss Grimshaw gave Emily no time to think about it, putting her to work after the days of laziness and boredom. 

She was assigned to the clothes washing and she took the chance to wear her “normal” clothes and wash the shirt and the skirt. 

“In the future is so much simple” she said to Abigail as they hanged the clean laundry.

“We have a thing called washing machine. You put the clothes inside and it washes them, so you don’t have to rub and ruin your hands with water and detergents.”

“Why don’t you build it, this way Miss Grimshaw will stop torturing us” she replied, but her tone was heavily sarcastic. Abigail was one of those who still didn’t believe in Emily’s story. 

Talking seriously, no-one believed in the possibility that Emily truly came from the future, but some of them, like Mary-Beth, Tilly, Hosea and Charles, believed in her conviction that she came from the future, so if it was real for her, it was real for them too, but they didn’t actually believe in a fact, they believed in a belief. 

“You all are too hard with her. She’s just doing what she thinks it’s better to make this camp work. Your hygienic situation it’s already unstable. Without her it would be disastrous” said Emily.

In those days she had thought a lot about the harsh reaction Miss Grimshaw had had with her, but also about how worried everybody said she was because of her disappearance, and so, Emily decided to forgive her and forget the fact that she had been slapped, and, on the contrary, she started to take her defense every time somebody silently attacked her for something she said or did in camp. 

Since the place was much more boring with most of its people gone, Emily also started to visit Kieran constantly, alway being careful not to touch him with a single finger, but she had also noticed that since she had loosened his ropes and made him sit on the ground, no-one had tightened them again, so that now he could stay seated and sleep correctly. 

Emily wondered if that had happened because she had somehow put some humanity in those people’s heart or just because no-one bothered to put him in the right place again. 

With Kieran, Emily talked mainly about horses. When the man found out she knew nothing about those animals he loved so much, he decided to make her some real lessons about them.

“What about that one? What breed is it?” she asked pointing at Dutch’s horse.

“That one is an albino Arab, which is different from a white Arab because of his eyes, you see them? They are clear.”

“What about Charles’s horse? Taima. She is so strange, with all those colors.”

“He has an Appaloosa. Quite common horse, sweet and calm, good for training.”

It also happened that she brought Drover near the spot Kieran was tied to, so that he could give her indications about how to groom him. How to use the brush correctly, how to touch him, all the things she used to do with Charles.

“You know so much. If you weren’t tied here I’d ask you to teach me something more about riding, now that everybody who could teach me is gone” she murmured with a long face.

“I wish I were free too.”

“You know what you should do? Prove yourself to them. Give them something that can make them understand you are not a bad guy.”

But that was a real issue for Kieran, because he was terrified that, if he spoke, Dutch would kill him after he had what he wanted. 

Emily didn’t want to hear it, she didn’t want to think Dutch or Hosea or somebody else could be so ruthless to kill poor Kieran as soon as they had what they wanted. She was aware that after what had happened she better didn’t stick her nose in that question, but she was taking it as something personal and wanted to do something: to prove to herself that those people weren’t as terrible as sometimes they seemed, to prove that Kieran wasn’t dangerous, to prove to everybody that kindness was the right way. 

“Emily!”

The kid’s voice distracted her from her thoughts.

“Hey, Jack!”

“Can we play?”

...

Emily didn’t stop making up new games. Every time Jack asked her she always came up with something new. Duck, Duck, Goose was one of his favorites because they played with his mom, Tilly, Mary-Beth and Karen, even if the latter wasn’t very pleased to play and they had to force her. Then, there was hide and seek, Simon Says, which was super fun because they played with Mr. Pearson - whose name was Simon - and he always found something hilarious to make, and then Hopscotch and the Explorers. If Jack was having a bad day or he was bored he knew he could always go to Emily and she would have found a way to cheer him up.

That day they played hide and seek and when they were tired enough, to rest, Emily chose a particular spot in camp and told him to lay on the ground and look at the sky.

“Why?” he asked.

“You’ll see” she replied.

It was the perfect day: there were enough clouds and not much wind so that the movements they made created many shapes and figures. Emily explained him how it worked and soon they started to see every kind on thing in the clouds.

“Look! That looks like a dog! I like dogs!” exclaimed Jack.

“And that looks like roasted chicken! God, I miss chicken” Emily said bringing a hand on her half empty stomach.

“How does it taste like?”

“It tastes like chicken.”

“I’ve never eaten chicken.”

“What does it mean, you never tried chicken?” she asked looking at him in shock.

“Mr. Pearson only makes his stew. I eat that.”

Their argument went on for a while, until Emily sweared she would have found a way to make Jack eat chicken.

[opheliasbrokenmind]

a love that should have lasted for years - tommy shelby

word count: 2.7K+

a/n : omg i really can’t believe rn i’m finally sharing this one with you. confession: this was my first draft for peaky blinders and i just finished writing. i hope you’ll like that one. i’m always open and waiting for your requests <3

‘what happened had happened, you can’t fix me’ he said, without a sign of emotion on his beautiful face. ‘at least I can try’

Thomas Shelby. You repeated his name in your mind, over and over. You couldn’t help but remember the memories. The memories that once good ones, but now you were afraid of them. Tommy was your best friend. You grew up together, you were living with your father in Small Heath and that’s where you met him. He was three years older than you but the age difference never was an issue between you two. You first saw him at school and it didn’t take much time to you became close friends. He always treated you like you’re his sister, like you’re family.

Well, you can’t know just one Shelby, right? Soon you met with his brothers, Arthur and John. Then he introduced you to his aunt, Polly. She always treated you like you were her daughter, and of course, you already knew Ada. Tommy and you were always together, he often came to your house. Your father didn’t like him at first, he thought he was a silly boy who has bad intentions for his daughter. But after a few times, he realised that he was all wrong. The way Thomas treated you, his kind smiles and gentle gestures for you made your father like him. He saw Thomas as his own son, always made sure that he is alright.

Thomas was quite shocked when your father patted his shoulder proudly, he couldn’t help but the tears were already in his deep blue eyes. You noticed something was wrong. Instantly you held his hand and ran out. Once you arrived at your secret place, he tried to hide his watery eyes but he failed when you hugged him tightly. He was nearly sixteen when this happened, you were thirteen. You asked what was wrong and he told you everything, all the things his cruel father did to him and his siblings. Your breath got caught in your throat while you listened to him. That was the day you promised Tommy, you said that you’ll always be there for him.

You were kids, but life wasn’t that simple and things changed. You didn’t realise you had fallen for him until you were fifteen. It took almost five years to understand what you felt but when you accepted it, it was too late. Your father passed away and when your uncle came to the funeral, he said that you have to move their house in Liverpool. You refused him but he didn’t listen to you. His wife came to your room to pack up your things, you ran from home to find Tommy. When you found him in a pub, he was silent. Then he realised that you were crying and he furrowed. You left the pub and went to his place.

You told what your uncle said to you, said that you don’t want to go but you had to. He didn’t want to make things harder for you but he felt his heart broke. He couldn’t help but yell and you cried more. Once you were both silent, you spoke. ‘I... I don’t want to confess this now but I know that I won’t have a chance later. I love you, Tommy. I understand that you see me as a sister, as a friend but I couldn’t help but feel that way. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’ You finally decided to look at him.

His eyes were wide open and you saw the shocked expression on his face. You blushed deeply, already regretting what have you done. Then he lifted up your chin and with his other hand, he wiped the tears away. He brushed your cheek with his thumb and leaned to you. ‘I love you too, y/n.’ was all he said before connecting his lips with yours. It was a soft kiss, a very smooth one. He gently touched your neck and you melted into the kiss. When you broke the kiss you gasped for air, your breaths unsteady. You were both blushed this time and he walked with you to your home. Before leaving, you hugged him tightly, whispered that you love him and promised him that you’ll come back for him. You shared a quick kiss and you didn’t mind your uncle.

You moved to Liverpool and wrote him letters, nearly every day. Tommy never wrote back. One year later you gave up but never spent a day without thinking about him. You still wore the bracelet he gave to you, you still remembered your memories. You studied psychology at college and even worked with some soldiers after the war. With your patients’ words, you couldn’t imagine what people had been through. You never wanted to think that Tommy was dead, a part of you always wanted to believe that he was alive. But you couldn’t go there because you were afraid. What if he forgot you? What if he died in the war?

Someday one of your professors from college called you and said that he had a job for you. You accepted his offer without thinking, but then you realised that you have to move Small Heath for the job. You didn’t want to make the professor disappointed so you packed up your things and took a train. Now you were walking in the streets, the air was thick and it was hard to breathe. It was just like how it was when you were a child. You left your suitcases in a hotel and went to a pub called Garrison.

When you came in there the men looked at you hungrily, you rolled your eyes and continued to walk. You ordered a glass of wine and sat one of the chairs near where the bartender stood. You realised that one of the men was preparing to make an attempt to you, but a voice stopped him. ‘Don’t you fucking dare to touch her.’ It was a woman and her voice was sharp. You turned to her and saw her face, her eyes were so familiar. You knew these eyes, darker than Tommy’s... Ada Shelby.

‘Ada?’ you whispered and her eyes widened, ‘y/n! You came back??’ She screamed and hugged you tightly. ‘Aw, I missed you, too.’ You said and smiled at her. She was looking at you now, ‘Woah, you look sexy as fuck. I can’t believe you came back.’ You smiled softly, a slight shade of pink covering your cheeks because of her compliment. ‘Well, you look stunning. How are you?’ You asked simply and something changed in her expression. She called the man who serves drinks, ‘Harry, can you bring us a bottle of whiskey and two glasses? Thanks.’

The man quickly brought the alcohol for you and Ada poured the drinks. ‘Trust me, love. We will need it.’ she said and after taking a sip from her drink, she told you everything. She explained what happened to her brothers after the war, the Peaky Blinders and what happened to Thomas. ‘After you left Birmingham, he dealt with a broken heart. He never forgot you but he started to make out with random girls and... She liked a girl, her name was Greta and she died. Then the boys went to war, they came back as men. Yeah, the war affected all of them but Tommy...’ She filled the glasses with whiskey again and took a long sip before continue.

‘Thomas was a completely different person, he never is the same since then. The last time I remember him chuckling was the last time I saw you two together. He changed y/n, and not in a good way. He’s just smoking and drinking all day. I don’t think he sleeps, he is a complete mess. He has problems, not simple ones and he is going worse. Believe me. Now his wife is dead and he is all alone in that big fucking house with Charlie. Poor kid doesn’t even know her mother is dead. I hope you won’t regret coming here, love. Maybe...’ She stopped talking and finished her drink, not looking at you. ‘Maybe what, Ada?’

She hesitated before talking, ‘Maybe you can save him, I don’t know. Maybe you’re his last chance? Please help him, please.’ You couldn't respond, just nodded. Ada gave you a little smile, ‘You can come to me whenever you want, now I have to go. I didn’t see Karl for hours.’ Then she left the pub, leaving you all alone. The things you heard were just too much for you. You felt awful about Thomas, not only as a friend. As a psychologist.

You already knew that his childhood was full of traumas. When you left him all alone, things got worse. After the girl’s death, he was probably shocked and then he went to war. The war... You couldn’t imagine what he’d been through, the pain he felt. Peaky Blinders only triggered the violence inside of him. Like these weren’t enough, his wife passed away and he was alone again with a son. There was no doubt that he had mental problems and also drinking and smoking addictions. 

You had no idea about what to do, so you decided to pour yourself another drink. When you finished it, you left the pub. It was afternoon, you went back to the hotel and changed your clothes. You wore a simple dress and your dark coat. You didn’t wear makeup, you didn’t need to. Your hair was shining, you sighed and called a car. You said the address Ada gave you, you were going to Tommy’s house. What were you going to tell him? You felt extremely nervous. The thought of a suffering Thomas made you shiver. He didn’t deserve any of this, you remembered the young boy always made you smile. When the car stopped you paid the money and the man left.

In front of you, there was a big house with a really big garden. The house looked glorious, you slowly walked to the door. When you knocked on the door nobody answered it. ‘Hello?’ you shouted but there was no response. You pushed the door and it swung open, you called again. After closing the door you walked and found a closed door. It could be his office, you took a deep breath and opened the door.

As you entrance to the room a voice stopped you, ‘Who the fuck are you?’ Tommy growled, his voice was deeper than you remembered. You finally looked at him and your breath got caught in your throat. You thought that he recognised you because his face softened for a moment, then he suddenly frowned. ‘I’m seeing hallucinations now, right? Fuck! I didn’t even see her since she left, that’s my imagination. FUCK! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD!’ He shouted and you stood there, frozen.

He closed his eyes and you walked slowly, ‘You’re not imagining this. It’s me, y/n.’ You said, not wanting to scare him. ‘What, you’re a new whore who’s offering me to act as my first love? They told me that they could be my dead wife but, that’s new. I’m not willing to fuck now, eh, you can fuck off.’ He spoke and looked at the door, showing you what he wanted. ‘Thomas, it’s me. I’m serious... I’m back, don’t you remember? I promised you that I’ll come back. I came back.’ He snorted, ‘Oh, you came back then? What does that fucking mean actually? You came back to who? To the boy you thought you loved when you were fifteen?’ His cold eyes stood on your small figure and he continued.

‘To the boy you never bothered to write a fucking letter? Was it that hard? You could send me a fucking sentence, but you didn’t. I thought you were dead. The fifteen-year-old girl I once knew is dead to me, just like that stupid boy. So, tell me, why are you here? What do you want?’ You listened to him as your lips parted, shock captured your face. ‘Y-you didn’t get my letters? I wrote to you, of course, I did. Nearly every day, for a year but you never wrote me back. That’s why I stopped writing to you, thought you didn’t want me in your life anymore.’

‘How could you think that I don’t want you in my life? I loved you y/n, I really did. But we are not kids anymore.’ His voice was sharp like it could cut you in half. ‘I didn’t come here to live our feelings again, I came for my job. I didn’t even know you were ...’ You waited for a moment and he interrupted with a question, ‘Didn’t think that I was alive, eh? Why’s that?’ You glanced away, ‘Cause I thought if you were alive, you would do something to find me.’ He lit himself a cigar and smiled, ‘I tried, love. I tried so many times before giving up. You can’t do anything. What happened had happened, you can’t fix me’ He said, without a sign of emotion on his beautiful face. 

‘At least I can try.’ You insisted, ‘I’ll work in the psychology clinic here, come and see me. Maybe we can talk?’ You walked to his desk and left your card on it. ‘You think I’m insane now? Just go, please.’ You didn’t have an answer so you left the house. It was worse than you thought. He watched you leave and once you left the room, he took the card. ‘y/n y/l/n. Psychologist.’ He smiled when he saw your surname, so you didn’t marry anyone. He lit another cigar and let the thoughts confuse his mind.

***

It was nearly eight in the evening, he knew where you’d be. He knew because after you left, the place became his secret. Tommy often found himself there, thinking about you and the chances you two never had. When he arrived you were already there, sitting under the tree you used to sit when you were just kids. ‘I knew you’d come here.’ You said, pointing him your side by your shoulder and he sat next to you, taking his cap off. ‘This place became my escape after you left.’ Your smile faded, ‘I’ll tell you something but first promise me you won’t do anything.’

‘I don’t promise things I can’t keep, y/n. Just say it.’ You sighed, looking down at your hands as he watched you. ‘I went to a pub after leaving your house, ran into Polly there. We... spoke.’ He arched an eyebrow, ‘About what?’ You looked at everything but him, ‘You and... The letters. Looks like they arrived here, but she didn’t want you to know. She said she was sad and afraid for you, she didn’t want to make things harder for you.’ You finally looked at him, finding a cold expression on his face, ‘You’re telling me that she fucking lied to me all these years? She told me that you forgot me, didn’t even care.’

‘I waited for years, Tom. I swear. But after the war, just thought you were dead.’ He rolled his eyes, ‘I sometimes wish I was.’ Worry captured your face, ‘How could you say this? There are people that love you, Tommy. They care about you.’ Thomas looked at you, tried to understand if you were really serious. He cracked a smile, ‘Right, ey? They care about me and in return, I fucking ruin their lives.’ He lit a cigar and inhaled the smoke slowly. ‘You’re wrong. I heard you are making the business legal, working at your hardest.’ He cut you off with his eyes.

‘I don’t know if you know but my life’s hell. I don’t expect you to stay.’ You shake your head, ‘I’m not an angel, you know that. I’ll stay because I’m here for helping people. Because you were once my friend and I loved you, Tommy.’ His face lightened a little bit, ‘Do you really think we can be friends again?’ You smiled, ‘We’ll try and see what happens.’ Thomas looked at you, ‘If only the things were different... We could’ve been happy if we had the chance, y/n.’ You nodded, taking his right hand in your small ones. ‘A love that should have lasted for years.’

Thomas came close to you and pressed his lips to your cheek, his mouth felt warm on your skin. ‘Better stand up now. I hope you have some good drinks in that clinic of yours. There’s a lot to catch up and it won’t be easy.’

[krycss]

Crossroads | oc:Alice Harkins/Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith

Chapter 1: Colter (Part 1)

[Read on AO3]

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Thank you to my lovely beta <3 @poedaneron for putting up with me!

Alice hated the cold. She always had. She currently sat huddled between Dutch and Hosea in the front seat of the wagon. Hosea was diligently rubbing his hands up and down her arms in an effort to help warm her up as the wagon train came to a steady crawl up the mountain. The gang was in shambles trying to worry not only about their own safety, but also of those who they lost to death as well as those who were simply missing. Dutch had sent Arthur ahead of the wagons, hoping to find shelter. Despite the constant bumps from the wagon, Alice could feel when someone had jumped off the back. Reverend Swanson appeared from the corner of her eye.

“Abigail says he’s dying, Dutch.” Swanson lamented about Davey. “We’ll have to stop some place.”

Alice looked back over her shoulder, her teeth chattering. Her eyes scanned over Davey’s body which was looking bluer than he had moments earlier. She returned her gazed forward into the snowstorm ahead of her.

“Okay.” Dutch’s voice broke through her haze. “Arthur’s out looking. I sent him up ahead.”

Swanson grunted as he returned to the back of the wagon. It was Dutch and Hosea’s turn to look back.

“If we don’t stop soon, we’ll all be dying.” Hosea added, giving Alice’s arms a tight squeeze before returning his hands to his own pockets to warm himself. “This weather, it’s May…”

“J-just our luck.” Alice gritted through her teeth. “A b-blizzard in May!”

“I’m just hoping the law got as lost as we did.”

Suddenly a horse’s neigh could be heard through the wind and a familiar figure was heading towards them.

“There!” Dutch called out, pointing ahead. “Arthur! Any luck?”

It was still odd to see Arthur on a horse other than Boadicea. The loss of that horse was just as hard on her and Arthur as Copper’s death had been. Arthur was huddled inside his blue coat, his hat shielding his face from the bite of the snow. Alice really missed her own hat at this time, but had lost it during the journey. He glanced up, his eyes finding hers first before moving towards Dutch.

“I found a place where we can get some shelter. Let Davey rest while he…you know.” Arthur turned his horse around. “An old mining town, abandoned, it ain’t far. Come on.”

Alice breathed a sigh of relief as Dutch called out to the rest of the gang. The wagon began creaking its way through the terrain once more as the gang followed Arthur to their destination.

Alice didn’t have much time to admire Colter when they finally stopped. From her initial quick glance from the wagon it seemed relatively new, but many of the structures were in desperate need of repair. It was too dark for her to see much else from what the lanterns could shine. Hosea slid off the side of the wagon, making his way towards a nearby building, gun in hand. Dutch helped Alice down from the wagon and was quick to follow.  After an all clear from Hosea, Bill and Arthur helped bring Davey into the room followed by the rest of the gang huddled together. Miss Grimshaw began putting out orders – fire, blankets, and food, Alice was thankful for her steadfastness even in stressful situations.  Abigail continued to help Swanson but Alice could tell from the look on her face that it was too late even before announcing it to the rest of them.

“There was…nothing more you could have done.” Swanson consoled her, placing coins over Davey’s eyes.

Alice looped her arm through Abigail’s, offering what comfort she could for both Abigail and herself – she was tired of seeing her family die over and over again.

Hosea spoke up.

“What are we gonna do? We need supplies.”

“Well, first of all you’re gonna stay here…” Dutch clapped a hand on his shoulder, “and you are gonna get yourself warm. Now, I sent John and Micah scouting out ahead. Arthur and I, we’re gonna ride out see if we can find one of ‘em.”

“In this?” Arthur pointed vaguely towards the open door behind him.

“Just for a short bit…I don’t see what other choice we have.”

Alice glanced between them. She knew they had to, but she wished Arthur had time to warm up after having been out on his own. As if reading her thoughts he nodded his head at her to let her know he was okay.

Dutch stepped forth, ready to give one of his speeches. Alice glanced out over what was left of her family for the time being.

“Listen…” Dutch began.

Alice tuned him out for the most part. She got the gist of it – things are bad at the moment, but they’ll get better. Dutch always got them out of sticky situations in the past and Alice had been with the man long enough to have faith that things are going to turn out all right in the end. She could see the determination find its way onto Arthur’s face, quickly followed by others throughout the room. Dutch had the way with words, but it was Arthur’s protectiveness over the years that the gang latched onto – even if they rarely expressed it out loud.

“We’ve been through worse than this before.” Dutch wrapped up his speech by asking Mr. Pearson and Miss Grimshaw to turn the place into a camp.

“Now, all of you – all of you, get yourselves warm. Stay strong. Stay with me.” He glanced over everyone. “We ain’t done yet!”

Dutch grabbed a gun off a nearby crate, calling for Arthur to follow him out the door as the room erupted into a flurry of motion. Lenny was quick to announce he’d take first shift on guard duty. Alice admired how hard he was working to earn his keep in the gang. It reminded her of herself when she first showed up. She was so eager to prove that she could keep up and was worth all the effort in giving her a place to sleep that she often overworked herself – although she never complained. Charles set off to help get the horses unhitched from the wagons and into the nearby barn. Alice followed, mostly wanting to get away from the cramped space. When he noticed her, Charles slowed his gait down and allowed Alice’s far shorter legs the ability to keep up with him.

“Figured you’d need a hand.” Alice’s eyes widened as she realized the pun hidden underneath and let out a bite of laughter.

Charles just shook his head, but there was amusement behind his eyes. His head was wrapped in his bandana underneath his hat. His already large body seemed bigger underneath the coat he had on. She knew he wasn’t exactly used to this type of weather, but she was glad he at least had the common sense to own actual winter gear. She was wearing her normal skirts – with the addition of another pair underneath along with her chemise, as well as two pairs of bloomers for extra fabric. She normally kept her skirt hitched up but she kept it down, allowing it to trail the ground a small bit and keep some warmth in. She had a coat on that once belonged to Bessie that Hosea had given her long ago. It was heavy enough, but the material wasn’t very thick. She had her hair down, tucked into the collar of the coat to use as a makeshift scarf of her own.

The two set off to unhitch the wagon horses first, then the rest of the riding horses. Setting out whatever hay was left in the barn from the previous occupants, they also lit the various lanterns throughout.

“Should we set a fire for them?” Alice watched her breath puff through the air.

“Yeah. Someone will have to stay here to keep watch on it though. Don’t need the horses starting a barn fire.” Charles began finding kindling and various other flammable material in the area and made a small fire pit in one of the corners.

When the fire was started Alice was quick to squat next to it, warming her hands.

“How’s the hand?”

Charles hummed.

“It’ll be fine.”

“Let me look at it for you.” Alice offered.

Charles didn’t deny her efforts, nor did he accept either. Alice took that a sign to continue anyways. She walked, as quickly as her legs would carry her, towards the medical wagon. When she returned Charles was seated comfortably up against a bale of hale. Boaz was currently nipping at both the hay and bits of Charles’ hair. Alice sidled up next to the man, sitting on her knees. She held out her hand. Charles glanced between her face and her hand a moment before placing his hand in hers. Alice took her time unwrapping the old bandage, admiring how small her hands compared to his. The burn itself was beginning to heal but it was clear there was still time needed for healing. She pulled out a bottle of ointment from her coat pocket and gently applied it to the edges, not wanting to reach anywhere too tender. Despite the cold weather, Charles’ hand was soft to the touch. When she was done she grabbed the new bandage she brought and began slowly rewrapping his hand. Once that was finished Alice was certain her face wasn’t just heated from the nearby flames.

“Thank you.” Charles’s voice rumbled in the quiet space between them.

Wind whipped the sides of the barn.

“Any time.” Alice smiled up at him.

It was an hour or so later when Dutch, Arthur, and Micah would return. They brought a woman with them and after Dutch explained what had happened she was quickly taken in under the care of Tilly and Mary who brought her into the main building to warm up. Miss Grimshaw had the rooms already set up for everyone and began doling them out. Dutch and Molly, Hosea, Arthur, and Alice all were shacked up in a cabin on the end of the street, much to the annoyance of one Micah Bell. Alice simply rolled her eyes at the man’s complaints as she helped show Arthur to his room. Arthur was quick to collapse on the cot in his room. The walls were barely holding together but it had a roof and that was plenty for the man apparently.

“Need anything else?” Alice grabbed the blanket left on the table and handed it to Arthur.

“I’d like to feel my fingers and toes once more but I don’t quite think there’s anything you can do about that one.”

Alice laughed.

“Always with the humor, ain’t ya? You get warm and rest up now, ya hear?” Alice squeezed his hand, earning a mumbled “yes ma’am” from Arthur.

Alice awoke already exhausted for the day ahead as she glanced through the small slit in the blanket covering her head. Her lips were painfully chapped from the cold, dry weather and she groaned as she sat up. She noticed that there was one more blanket over her than there had been when she went to bed. It was the blanket she had tossed over Arthur last night. She smiled at the thought before stretching her arms up over her head, wincing at the pops from her spine. The scent of coffee nearby was enough to drag her body from the bed and towards the door, both blankets draped over her shoulders like a thick cape. Hosea was seated by the fireplace, two coffee cups in hand. He immediately held one out to Alice as she neared and she hugged him from behind. Hosea always made sure to have a cup ready for her when she woke up ever since she joined the gang.

“Sleep well, Alice?”

Alice mumbled back, earning a chuckle from Hosea.

“Right, coffee first, of course.”

The morning continued into the larger building where most of the gang was residing. By the time Alice had finally arrived into the room Abigail was currently begging Arthur to help in rescuing John. Alice added her piece in, she knew Arthur’s feelings about John but he was still family no matter what. Especially to her. With a little coaxing from Hosea, and the addition of Javier to the search party, the two headed out.

They returned at nightfall. The wind was so loud up there in the mountains that it wasn’t until they were right up by the door that everyone inside heard the faint cries for help. Abigail was the first to run out the door followed by Bill and Lenny who helped John off of Javier’s horse. Alice walked out, still covered in her blankets, just as Hosea and Strauss turned up. Javier gave Alice a brief nod before heading off to where he was staying – she knew he was hating this weather just as much as she was.

“You got any other lost maidens need saving?” Arthur commented sarcastically to Hosea’s thanks.

“Oh hush.” Alice swatted his arm with the corner of the blanket.

“Have you and Dutch talked about how we’re gonna get out of this?”

The four of them huddled up for the discussion. Alice stood close to Arthur, hoping to gain some of his warm and share what little she had.

“I was just discussing with Herr Strauss, when the weather breaks I suppose we’ll have to keep heading east.”

“East?! Into all that…”Arthur mumbled, “…that civilization?”

Alice couldn’t help the snort she made at Arthur’s reaction, earning a nudge from the man.

“I know! But the west is where all our problems are worse.” Hosea began walking off. “Come on, Herr Strauss. Let’s get warm.”

As the two headed inside, Alice stood there shivering next to Arthur, using his height to her advantage to block the wind.

“Y-you too. Come on, let’s get inside.” Alice began walking back to their cabin, hearing the crunch of Arthur’s boots behind her.

The next few mornings in Colter were much like the others for Alice. Wake up, bundle up her blanket [she had insisted that Arthur take his back, much to his objection that she needed it more], and grab her coffee with Hosea. She spotted Arthur sitting on the edge of his bed writing something in his new journal. He had bought it after his old one got destroyed in a fire months ago, the same one that forced the gang towards Blackwater. Alice knew he was still bitter about losing all of those memories.

Dutch exited his room just before Arthur, sitting in a chair next to Hosea and Alice.

“So what now, Dutch?” Hosea asked.

Alice glanced between the two men.

“We get strong, we get warm…and we wait.” Dutch nodded his head at himself, staring into the fire. “You sound doubtful.”

“Not…doubtful, just worried.”

Dutch’s eyes trailed from Hosea to Alice.

“We’ll get through this,” she puffed out a breath before smiling, “we always do.”

Dutch turned his attention to Arthur who had been watching from the corner of the room.

“What do you think, Arthur?”

“I wasn’t on that boat, so, hard to say, but I trust your judgement, Dutch. Always have.”

“Thank you, son.” Dutch smiled warmly. “And you, Alice. You’re very right. We’ll get through this.”

Alice watched Arthur exit the building as Dutch continued to reassure Hosea.

“I’m gonna see what I can do to help out. You two stay warm.”

Alice kissed both men on the cheek before leaving. She saw Arthur head into the small shack the other boys had been lodging in and could already hear an argument flaring up inside. She shook her head. That was a catastrophe waiting to happen.

She was helping Pearson and Charles try and piece together something from the scraps they had left – they were in desperate need of food – when she saw Dutch enter the boys’ cabin, breaking up whatever fight had been started. She saw Arthur exit, cigarette already in his mouth as he talked with Dutch while the rest of the boys began heading towards their horses. Alice approached Arthur and Dutch as they got ready by their own mounts.

“-Colm always had good information.” Dutch assured Arthur. “Come on.”

Alice approached them, helping them ready their mounts, a silent thank you was given in the form of nods.

“And you think now is the right time to hit a train?” Arthur grunted as he pulled himself up on the horse he got from Sadie’s home.

“Now you might fancy living on deer piss and rabbit shit…” Alice laughed at Dutch’s comment. “I’m getting too old for that life.”

“Hardly, Dutch.” Alice looked up at him, patting his leg. “Ya’ll stay safe.”

“Always.” Dutch ruffled her hair. “Mr. Matthews, Mr. Smith, Mr. Pearson, would you please look after the place? There are O’Driscolls about!”

With one last yell, the boys rode off, leaving behind a trail of snow kicked up in the wind.

“Need anything else Mr. Pearson?” Alice asked as she walked back to where she had been helping.

“No thank you, Miss Harkins. I appreciate it. We’ll be needing someone to go out hunting soon though.”

Charles huffed, rubbing his hands together over the coals heating the pot. Alice neared him.

“Antsy?”

Charles looked down at her. She both hated and loved the fact that she was as short as she was.

“Annoyed.” Charles grumbled. “Feels like I’m only able to put in half the work with my hand like this.”

“You’ll be back at it in no time. Though, I’m sure it don’t feel like it at the moment.”

Charles let out a small laugh before leaning towards her.

“I’m just impatient.”

Alice beamed up at him. She hadn’t seen him laugh since all this mess began.

“Maybe when Arthur’s back you can take me and him hunting? Arthur could definitely use the help! I’m…decent at least?”

Alice recalled the last time she went hunting with Hosea. She managed to kill a deer, even if her first few arrows went sailing into various trees and plants first. She really hoped she didn’t make a fool of herself this time around.

When the boys returned Alice was worried at first when she didn’t see Arthur with them. She was told by Dutch that he was out chasing a rogue O’Driscoll and her worries were satiated for the moment. Still, she couldn’t help but stay outside and watch the road while everyone else went to warm up. It was dusk when Arthur finally pulled his horse up to the hitching posts. Alice watched him take the man off the back of the horse, pleading with Arthur who was having none of it. Alice quickly stuck her head into the room, alerting the others.

“Huh, you found the little shit, did you?” Dutch scoffed as he walked out.

“Yup. I got him.” Arthur dropped him like a sack of potatoes onto the ground.

As Arthur untied the man’s feet and dragged him up as Bill and Uncle came out to help. Alice stayed standing near the door, her hand itching for the knife on her belt just in case.

“I got a saying, my friend…” Dutch taunted the O’Driscoll. “We shoot fellers as need shooting, save fellers as need saving, and feed ‘em as need feeding. We’re gonna find out what you need.”

Alice almost pitied the poor man, he was in for a rough time. Dutch could be downright terrifying when need be but Alice knew it was just to protect his family.

“I can’t believe it!” Dutch called out as he turned back into the house. Alice was ready to hold the door open for him. “An O’Driscoll in my camp.”

“No, I ain’t an O’Driscoll, mister!”

Alice watched as they dragged him towards the barn.

“I-I hate that feller!”

She couldn’t help but wonder if he was telling the truth but she ignored the thoughts as Arthur and Dutch came towards her.

“Well done, Arthur.” Alice opened the door for Dutch.

“I’m just sorry we missed out on Colm.”

“Oh, there’s time enough for that. Now, I gotta figure out if we can hit that train.” Dutch nodded a thanks to Alice as he entered the room, heading straight for the fire with Hosea.

“You always seem to find the most interestin’ of people, don’t ya?” Alice smiled at Arthur.

His hair was sticking up from the wind and snow as he held his hat. She stepped towards him, raising her hands to his head. He hesitated a moment before lowering his head, allowing her to ruffle his hair to remove the snow and place his hat on his head. He mumbled a thank you.

“How’d it go out there?” She asked quietly.

“Nothing we couldn’t handle.” Arthur walked with Alice back to their cabin. “Though, I don’t quite enjoy the idea that those O’Driscolls were so close this whole time. But, I don’t think they’ll be a problem for us for a while.”

They walked in a comfortable silence all the way until they went to their respective rooms before Alice remembered her conversation from earlier.

“Oh!” She called out, turning around in the doorway. Arthur’s head popped through his comically. “I asked Charles to take me an’ you out hunting tomorrow if you’re up for it? Pearson’s started his griping about the food situation.”

Arthur stared at her for a moment before scratching the back of his neck.

“You know I never could get the hang of a bow, Alice.”

“Well that’s why you’ll have Charles and I to show you how! Granted…you should probably just listen to Charles if you actually want to be good at it.”

Arthur just chuckled.

“Alright, well, thank you for letting me know. You get yourself warmed up and I’ll see ya in the morning.”

“Goodnight Arthur” Alice smiled sweetly at the man.

“Night, Alice.”

For the first time in a while Alice woke up excited, slightly nervous, but excited nonetheless. Would it be a tad awkward for her to be hanging out with two men she was fairly certain she had feelings for? Possibly. Would should she miss the chance on hanging out with both of them at the same time, though? Never.

She walked into the common area, downing the coffee given to her by Hosea and was out the door before he could even ask. When she stepped outside she noticed it was significantly less cold than before. It seemed things were starting to thaw and she couldn’t help but let it continue to lift her mood. She spotted Arthur and Charles already talking with Pearson.

“Here, you’re gonna need something to eat out there.” Pearson tossed something towards Arthur.

“Assorted, salted offal.” Arthur made a face. “Starving would be preferable.”

“Come on, let’s go.” Charles grumbled.

“You need to rest, Charles.” Arthur began his protest.

“You think this is rest? Come along.”

Alice stared up at Charles as he walked by. He took the bow from his back and handed it to Arthur.

“Here, you take this. Alice, I have an extra on Taima.”

Alice slipped the bow from the horse’s saddle and put it around her back. It definitely wasn’t made for her body-type but she didn’t have much choice.

Both men hopped up onto their mounts as Alice stood between the horses. She quickly realized an issue – she didn’t have a horse yet. She had one, Caramel, but when it passed years ago she never had the chance to get another.

“You can ride with me.” Arthur and Charles spoke at the same time, their faces quickly popping up to stare at one another in shock.

Alice fidgeted.

“Arthur’s horse is slightly bigger than Taima…and-and if we’re forced to ride double, I should probably ride with Charles so you can haul whatever we catch to make up for it…yeah?” Alice hoped it didn’t seem like a flimsy excuse.

Honestly it wasn’t an excuse at all, they were going to need to bring back quite a bit of game to make up for the loss of supplies, and with two people riding on one horse they’d need the extra storage. Arthur nodded, she couldn’t tell if he was upset or not.

“Makes sense.” He adjusted himself in the saddle.

Charles leaned down to offer his hand which Alice accepted as she hopped onto the back of Taima. Arthur started turning his horse around and heading towards the road as Alice had a game of mental chess with herself to figure out what to do with her arms. Sure, her and Charles had gotten close in his short time with the gang, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to hold onto him. She got her answer though as they started catching up to Arthur.

“I don’t bite, you know.” Alice felt Charles’ laugh through his back. “You can hold onto me, it’s alright. Don’t want you falling off.”

Alice was thankful that she was behind him as she was sure her face was redder than a tomato at this point as her arms slinked around his broad waist. Her arms didn’t quite reach all the way around so she opted to grip onto his coat as she pressed her chest to his back. He was like a personal heater against the cold air of the Grizzlies. When they were side-to-side with Arthur, Alice couldn’t help but look over at him to find he was already staring. He glanced away quickly.

“You should know, she’s a leech.” Arthur leaned over to talk to Charles, making sure Alice could hear. “She’s using you for heat and I’ll bet you she won’t even thank ya for it.”

Alice’s mouth gaped open.

“Arthur Morgan!”

Alice felt the rumble from Charles’ chest as he let out a laugh.

“I gathered. She’s a human popsicle, even through this jacket.”

“Charles!”

Alice felt her face heating up once more and huffed in indigence at the men. She couldn’t believe they were teasing her –who was she kidding, of course they were teasing.

“Less yappin’ and more ridin’.” Alice poked Charles’ side.

“Been a wild few days alright.” Arthur changed the topic thankfully. “That ride north from Blackwater, gettin’ stuck in this storm, going out for John, that thing with the O’Driscolls.”

Alice and Charles both looked over at him as his list kept going.

“You’ve had a lot put on you.” Charles turned back. “I wish I could have done more.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, just…a lot to think back on.”

“Still, you do so much for us, Arthur. You deserve a break, you know.” Alice chimed in.

“I still don’t really know what happened on that boat.”

“Me neither.” Arthur scoffed. “Well, Javier told me a bit, but…it sure weren’t good.”

“It weren’t gonna go good from the start.” Alice grumbled to herself.

As they got farther from Colter and deeper into the forest Charles slowed down, his eyes focused on the ground. Alice was fascinated. She wanted to ask more but thought better of breaking his concentration.

Charles patted her hands as he hopped off Taima. He crouched down in the snow.

“There’s deer been here…recently.” His voice low.

“How can you tell?” Arthur jumped off his horse as well, standing next to Charles.

“How can you not?” Charles pointed to the rather obvious trail of track in the snow and Alice laughed to herself. “Let’s walk it from here. Grab your bow.”

Charles went over to Taima, helping Alice down. She ignored the way her stomach flitted when his hands were around her waist. When she was on the ground and standing between them she realized how much shorter she was than the both of them. The snow nearly coming up to her knees and only to their calves.

“I swear, I’ll have a growth spurt eventually.” She pouted, earning chuckles from the men.

“Sure you will.” Arthur ruffled her hair. “Come on, Shortcake. We got deer to hunt.”

Alice took the bow from her back, lightly smacking Arthur with it for using her embarrassing nickname from so long ago around Charles.

“Shortcake?” Charles looked at her with his brows raised.

Alice sighed loudly.

“Apparently I am too ‘short and sweet’ for an outlaw so mister funny here decided to call me that when we was younger.”

Alice and Charles followed behind Arthur, letting him get the hang of tracking.

“Well, I think it’s cute.” Charles smiled softly at her.

Alice tucked a stray hair from her face behind her ear.

Alice wasn’t sure if Arthur had been lying about his lack of bow-hunting skills. Unlike her, he had managed to hit two deer perfectly, clean kills for both. Alice, on the other hand, managed to seriously maim a tree stump. Defeated, she hung the bow back over her.

Charles patted her on the shoulder with his good hand.

“That bow just isn’t made for someone with your strength, it’s made for mine. You need a smaller one is all. Other than that, good form.”

She appreciated it. Still didn’t mean she wasn’t embarrassed.

The men called their horses over and, despite Alice telling Charles he probably shouldn’t, both loaded up Arthur’s horse with the two deer. The horse was clearly annoyed as it swished its tail in Arthur’s face.

The three saddled back up, this time Alice had no problems wrapping her arms around Charles.

“Should be enough meat here to keep us all fed for a few days.” Charles glanced back to Arthur who was trailing slightly behind.

“Well, you found ‘em.”

“I knew you’d be okay with that bow.”

“It’s easier when they ain’t shooting back.” Arthur quipped back.

“Could you even imagine?” Alice said to under her breath, earning a laugh from Charles.

“We’ve definitely seen enough of that.”

“Considering how things were looking a couple days back, maybe our luck is finally on the turn.”

“Ever the optimist, Arthur!” Alice called back to him.

“Seems to me we should be putting our effort into getting off this mountain now.” Charles slowed down, allowing Arthur to trail up next to them.

“Soon. People are still weak and you’ve seen how snowed in those wagons are. They ain’t goin’ nowhere until we got some more thaw.”

Charles hummed in thought.

“And, even if we do get off here…what then? We still have a big price on our heads.”

“This is a big country…we’ll find somewhere to lie low. Dutch and Hosea will have a plan.”

Alice nodded her head, though, she agreed with Charles. The bounties on their heads just kept rising, and they could never settle anywhere for longer than a few months. Even that was risky.

The ride continued as Alice stared at the nature around her. She hadn’t had time to admire it on the way in since it was both dark and the middle of a blizzard. Arthur and Charles were chatting about the two newest additions to the camp: Mrs. Adler and the O’Driscoll. Arthur and Alice explained what they could about the O’Driscoll rivalry itself to Charles since the gang hadn’t actually run into them since he had joined up and all he knew was just hearsay. Eventually the conversation drifted to talking about Charles himself. Alice had spent some time with the man but they never really talked about anything personal, she figured he’d talk about it in time. He was still acclimating to the gang.

“Bet you didn’t expect this when you joined up with us.” Arthur shook his head.

“What?”

“Any of this. The Blackwater mess, being up here.”

Charles nodded his head slowly.

“Sooner or later, a job’s gonna go wrong.” Charles shrugged. “Nature of life.”

“Just thought you might have moved on by now.”

“You want me to move on?”

Alice looked between them.

“No, no, not at all, I just…I know you could run it alone, no problem.”

“I did that for a long time. I’m done with it. Always wondering if someone’s going to kill you in your sleep.”

“I still wonder that most nights.” All three laughed.

Alice shook her head.

“I reckon you’re okay…” Charles took a deep breath, moving Alice as well. “This suits me. Sure, I could fall in with another gang, but Dutch…you know, Dutch is different.”

“Oh yes, Dutch is certainly different.”

“I feel as though that’s an understatement.” Alice looked over at Arthur.

“He treats me fair.” Charles continued. “Most of you do. And for a feller with a black father and an Indian mother, that ain’t normally the case.”

Alice squeezed Charles in an attempt at a hug.

“You’re always welcome with us, Charles.”

“Well, we need you now. More than ever.” Arthur took a deep breath.

“Good.” Charles looked over at Arthur and then back at Alice. “And how long have you two been with these boys? Why ain’t you run off?”

“Me?” Arthur started. “Twenty years, something like that. Since I was a boy.”

“I think about eleven, for me.” Alice chimed in. “Took me in at sixteen when I tried pickpocketing Arthur here.” Alice and Arthur laughed at the memory.

“That long?!” Charles looked between them.

“Yeah, Dutch taught us to read.” Arthur groaned.  “John, too.”

“And a few other things, him and Hosea.” Alice smiled over towards Arthur.

“I’m sure.” Charles huffed.

“Dutch saved me,” Arthur continued. “Saved most of us. That’s why we need to stick by him through this. He always sees us right.”

“Gotta have faith!” Alice said in her best Dutch impression, earning a laugh from both of the men, causing her to smile.

By the time they got back to Colter, Alice was ready for the warmth of a fire. Charles could keep her warm, sure, but she doubted that he’d appreciate her clinging to his back like some child for the rest of the day. Charles once again helped Alice off of Taima before helping Arthur to bring the deer to Pearson. When the three walked into the shed, Pearson was already waiting on them along with Uncle. Arthur dropped his deer at Pearson’s feet while Charles was at least decent enough to put his on the table. Alice walked over to the coals to warm herself up and the boys followed shortly. After a bit of taunting from Arthur, Uncle eventually left to do…whatever it is he did.

“See you got on just fine.” Pearson pointed towards the deer.

“Charles is a wonder.” Arthur clapped him on the shoulder.

“Have a drink.” Pearson handed over a bottle. “You earned it.”

Arthur was the first to take a swig, immediately grimacing.

“Jesus! What is that?” Arthur’s voice rose as he passed it over to Alice.

Alice immediately handed it to Charles after that reaction. Charles was hesitant but took a small sip as well, shaking his head as it went down.

“Navy rum, sir. It’s the only thing, the only thing!” Pearson laughed. “Keeps you sane it does.”

“Yes, seems to have done a treat on you.” Arthur deadpanned. “You go rest that hand, Charles.”

“I’ll be fine in a few days.” Charles ignored him.

“Stubborn man. Come on, Charles. We should look at it anyways.” Alice pulled Charles along lightly by his coat. She didn’t want to be here for the skinning anyways.

Charles sighed with a laugh at the end.

“See you both later.” Charles called out over his shoulder.

Alice turned around, waving back at Arthur as she headed to the barn with Charles. She knew that he was happiest there – even if there was currently someone tied up in there. They sat on the far end of the barn while Charles kept an eye on the O’Driscoll as Alice took a look at his hand.

“Looks like it’s healing up fairly quickly. You’re a fast healer, Mr. Smith.” Alice patted the top of his hand lightly when she was done. “Thanks for taking us out today, I appreciated it, even if I wasn’t much help out there.”

“You’re welcome.” Charles smiled. “When we get off this mountain, remind me to make you one of your own and I’ll teach you how to actually use it.”

Alice’s cheeks were burning, she hoped it would just seem like the cold weather.

“I’d appreciate that, Charles.”

“So, eleven years with Dutch. Why’d you stay with him so long? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Alice thought it over. Not many people knew the full story around here. Mostly just those who had been with them the longest. Otherwise it just never came up.

“Well, before the gang I was living on my own. Surviving day-by-day as a pickpocket in Missouri.” Alice played with the frayed edges of her coat.

“By yourself?”

Alice nodded.

“Parents was killed when I was twelve.” She saw Charles look up at her with something in his eye, familiarity?  “Had to fend for myself somehow. Happened to try and steal from Arthur, as you know, and instead of doing the smart thing and turnin’ me in, he went and got Dutch to bring me into the gang. I been with them now since almost the beginin’. Feels like a lifetime ago.”

Charles hummed.

“If it weren’t for Dutch, I don’t know what I’d be doing with my life or if I would even still be alive. I have him to thank for everything – Arthur too for introducing me to him.”

“You and Arthur seem…close?” Charles spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “I’ve heard the chatter around camp, are you two…?”

Alice’s face lit up once again. She cursed the big mouths on some of these people.

“No! No, it’s not like that.” She felt her stomach clench. “We just known each other for a long time is all. He’s taught me a lot he has.” She bit her tongue to keep her from saying anything that might give away her feelings.

Charles was silent.

“We should, ah, we should go get some rest.” Alice looked over at the horses for a distraction. “I think Dutch is looking to do that train robbery tomorrow. You’ll need your strength if you’re planning on going.”

Charles sighed beside her.

“Let’s hope luck’s on our side this time around.” Charles shook his head as he helped her up.

The two walked out of the barn, splitting off to head to their beds after saying goodbye. She paused in the cabin when she opened the door, glancing towards Arthur’s empty room. She really did like the man. She just didn’t want to ruin whatever they had going for them. Plus there were her feelings for Charles she had to deal with. Her heart felt like it was being tugged on. When she reached her room she quickly flopped onto the cot, burying her face in her pillow with a groan.

What in the world was she supposed to do now?