ACT: THREE
CHAPTER xxi: ' ooh, ah, up the—! '

The door closing behind her echoed through the previously silent house. Eli locked it with her key swiftly behind her and paused at the usual quietness. It set her on edge, wondering why her mother and the twins weren't home. She stayed still, waiting for a cough, a yell or even footsteps to fill the empty space but nothing came.

Just as she took a step forward to carry on into the living room, the sound of movement in the kitchen rushed towards her. She halted, eyes unblinking as she stared at the bottom of the hall where the kitchen door was left tilled, a small slit of light fleeing onto the dark floorboards. She was all but silent, the loudest noise being the sharp quickening of her breathing and the sound of her pulse deafening her eardrums.

Eli wasn't stupid. She wasn't going to call out and greet the uninvited guest. No, for all she knew this was Byrne back from the grave to haunt her for his untimely death by the hands of the Shelby patriarch. Or maybe it was one of his comrades over from the front lines of Armagh to inflict vengeance down upon her for "treason" as Malachi had put it.

Instead she glanced at the small table beside the door where she'd left one of the fireplace rods in case trouble came to the door. She'd done it after Byrne's threat and she couldn't have been more grateful that she did. Her pale hand stretched out to grab it as her other hand slowly dropped her shopping bag down to the ground. It seemed God was on her side as neither action drew no more volume than a sewing needle piercing through fabric.

The next challenge was getting to the kitchen door without the floorboards croaking loudly through the old house. More sound grew from the kitchen and managed to conceal the small squeaks from Eli's approaching footsteps and she paused by the door as her heartbeat pounded violently in her head.

Finally, she pushed it open with her spare hand and prepared to swing the metal rod down on the person standing with his back to her. Unfortunately, he saw her reflection in the window facing him and spun around to catch it in his hand before she could hit him with it. "What the fuck are ye doing, Eli?!"

Wide blue eyes met narrowed blue eyes and Eli breathed in relief as she practically through herself into her father's arms. "You're back!"

Eamonn huffed in response, patting her on the back with a roll of his eyes. "Yeah, I'm back five feckin' minutes and ye already near took my head aff."

Eli pulled back with a teary smile. "Sorry?"

He sent her an unamused look in response. "Where's ye'r mother and the girls?"

"I don't know," Eli shook her head, confusion overtaking her features. "Why'd you come back? Campbell's still here, he could arrest you—"

Her worried rambling was cut off by her father's swift scoff. "No chance tha' fuckers laying a hand on me, love. Relax. I'm back because I heard that wanker Byrne came 'round to threat you because of Thomas fuckin' Shelby."

Eli parted her lips, both in shock that he'd managed to find out about that and the fact he came back because of it. "It's been handled." She answered vaguely causing his eyes to narrow in suspicion.

"So I've heard," he arched his eyebrows inquisitively, "Should I be worried?"

She was tempted to lie but she knew very well that her father could read her like a book. So with a small shrug, she offered: "Probably."

He was just about to question further and get some decent answers when someone knocked at the front door. Both their gazes snapped in the same direction before flashing back to each others. "Are ye expecting anyone?" Eamonn asked lowly.

Eli shook her head in response and took the fireplace rod off him when he extended it to her. She watched as he pulled out a gun from the waistband of his trousers and nodded for her to follow after him. They inched towards the front door in silence, Eamonn taking stance to the side of the door, hiding from sight as Eli moved to answer it.

She waited for her father's nod of approval as he clicked the safety off the pistol and then, with a shaky intake, she unlocked the door and swung it open to reveal who was on the other side...

"Tommy—"

Before Tommy could respond or Eli could intervene, Eamonn's gun was already pointed at the Shelby's head. "Get in the feckin' house and shut the door."

Tommy complied, casting a small glance to Eamonn as he did. "Eamonn, didn't know you were back yet."

Eli shrugged at the pointed look Tommy gave her as he pulled the door shut behind him. As soon as it was closed, Eamonn dropped the gun, grabbed the collar of Tommy's coat and pinned him against the wall. "I'm back because you almost got my Eli feckin' killed by my own bloody people."

"Da!" Eli tried, eyes flickering between the two men helplessly. It wasn't as if she had the physical strength to pull them apart and she could only sigh exasperatedly when her voice went ignored.

"Says more about them than it does me." Tommy remarked sardonically while he stared back at Eamonn with an almost smug expression.

"Shut up, Tommy." Eli warned, knowing the look in her father's eyes was something to watch out for. She waited for her father to let him go but he was taking his sweet time about it so she thought she might as well speed things along by asking Tommy, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to—"

He was cut short by another knock on the door, this one more frantic than Tommy's had been. Eamonn's eyes darkened in accusation, his grip on Tommy's shirt tightening. "Were you followed?"

Tommy didn't blink, a small mix of shock and honestly floating through the oceans of his eyes as he shook his head. "No."

Eamonn only narrowed his eyes further at the younger man. "You sure 'bout that?"

"Yes." He breathed.

It seemed to be enough to convince Eamonn as he looked back to Eli and shoved Tommy in her direction, with the order, "Take him to the kitchen. Stay there 'til I'm done here."

Eli nodded. Eamonn wasn't the type of man to argue with and she knew that through many years of trying to convince him to let her stay out past curfew and occasionally try to get him to take part in her fashion shows when she was little and dressing everyone up to the nines in the living room.

Neither of them said anything as they entered the kitchen and waited impatiently for Eamonn to return. Both too anxious even their slightest whisper would reach the front of the house and interrupt whatever was happening when Eamonn greeted the new visitor. Eli sat the iron rod down on the table cautiously, afraid it would cause too much noise while Tommy arched an eyebrow at the item he never noticed in her hand until then.

Luckily, they didn't have to wait too long, even if it had felt a lot longer than what it actually was. Eamonn's red head round the edge of the door and relief flooded through the pair's bodies. "Just one of the lads." Eli sighed and ran a hand over her hair to try and recompose herself while her father's sharp gaze landed on Tommy with a glare, "Coppers are about asking for a Thomas Shelby after he was seen heading this way."

Tommy dropped his eyes down to the table in front of table, falling into the chair and ignoring both their stares.

"Ye got my little girl into some bother, Tommy boy." Eamonn said harshly. "I hope y'er feckin' worth it."

"It was unintentional." Tommy defended weakly, too tired and deflated to say anything else.

Eamonn ignored him and walked up to Eli to kiss the top of her head in parting. "Wait, here. No coppers getting past our door, ya hear me?"

Tommy noted the softness of his voice when he spoke to his daughter compared to how it had been cold and gruff towards him just seconds before. His nosy eyes observed the interaction between the two, the silent promise Eamonn would return and the fear Eli felt for him. It made his own father look even worse. There was no love or compassion between Arthur Shelby Sr. and Tommy. None at all.

When Tommy blinked himself out of his thoughts, Eamon was already rushing out the door with a loud, "Alrigh' boys, let's show 'es peelers who's boss, eh?!" in his wake.

"What are you doing here, Tommy?" Eli's voice snapped his full attention back to her to see she was leaning against the counter with a gentle tone yet sharpened words.

He stared at her for a moment in silence. What the fuck was he doing there? He felt like all sense went out the window as soon as the dressmaker popped into his head. Perhaps, he should have just left. Perhaps, saying goodbye was too sentimental for the relationship they shared. Perhaps, he had been wrong to let himself think she was worth risking his freedom for.

But then again, he was only deluding himself with such thoughts. This was Eli Montgomery. There wasn't a doubt in his mind she was worth far more than he could ever afford her.

"Came to say goodbye." He said finally, a low and exhaustion clinging to every word that left his lips. "I lost the guns. Campbell's going to come after me."

Eli frowned in confusion, letting him take his time to find the words he came to say. His mind was a jungle on a good day but when he was at his worse ends, it was a labyrinth and Inspector Campbell was the minotaur haunting every path to a peaceful resolution.

"I struck a deal with the devil, Eli," his expression looked broken and Eli could feel her own heart break just looking at him. He looked sad, completely and utterly twisted and contorted by the desolation of his mind. It was as if he had been hanging by a thread and someone had just clamped the scissors over it and he was just falling down in a pit of darkness; a pit of his own depression. "And I just lost my bargaining chip to paradise."

Eli didn't know what she could say to that. She knew this man had so many intricate layers and this appeared to be the final one; the inside of the shell of a man who had built so many walls to protect himself, only to find each and every one had a spot where a wrecking ball had bulldozed it's way through, leaving only crumbled bricks behind.

"Sometimes paradise is overrated," she said softly and he lost himself in the blissful depths of her eyes boring into his, "jump the gates, build your own paradise, become your own god and the devil won't be able to touch you."

There was a new silence between them, this one bled. It was dripping down and drowning them in it's touch. But they embraced it. Two souls covered head to toe in red, ocean eyes eager to swallow the whole world and smiles like god hidden behind layers of grim solemnity.

If Tommy weren't so stubborn he would have lifted himself off his chair and closed the distance between them. He would have kissed her like she were a saint and he was a sinner looking to worship her in a prayer for redemption. He could see it all play out in his head, real as they were in the present. But his body felt heavier when he tried to convince himself to follow his desires. Men like him don't deserve the love of women like her.

Moments later (neither of them knew how many seconds or minutes had passed, time seemed foreign in each other's presence), Eli found herself offering, "Tea?"

He nodded, a ghost of a smile curling around his features. "Always."

author's note.
"peelers" is a slang term for policemen: widely popular in ireland.