Tommy

The sunlight outside of their bedroom was dim through the dusty window and thick, laced curtains. The clumps of smoke and clouds that hung in the sky didn't help with the dullness. Neither did Tommy Shelby's temper. A dark cloud seemed to follow him through the streets of Birmingham to the house on Watery Lane, infecting every drop of land he touched. It was the curse of the Shelbys, to have such influence on their surroundings that their familial anger could turn any air sour.

Their old room felt small, now that they had their own large house. It too, was empty though, without Lucille's presence. Tommy could hear the babbles of his daughter downstairs with Polly, her mother nowhere in sight. His Aunt had told him not to worry. Birmingham had brought the toughness out in the french girl, and she was as mad about him as he was her, according to Pol.

The whole family loved her. How could they not? John had fallen in love on the spot, when they'd detailed the events in which Lucille had come to find Tommy and Dawson, bleeding on a French street. He'd practically kissed her on the cheek when he'd been told about the daring shot she'd made as a German soldier had come close to discovering them hidden in her car.

Tommy sighed and tried to return to his thoughts of business. It was dangerous how often she consumed his thoughts. He'd been caught out on it multiple times, and even then, as he tried not to, he thought of how often he fucking thought of her. It was relentless.

The front door opened, casting all concepts of business plans from his head. Heeled footsteps stopped in the hallway. It was Lucille, he was sure, as the footsteps finally continued up the stairs.

He stood, as she appeared at the door, blonde curls loosened and resting just past the neckline of her dress. Her hair was getting longer, he noticed. Tommy liked that about her- the length of her hair, so different from the cropped styles that were now popular. She didn't care about anything other than what she herself liked. And even then, it came second to her care for others, for their daughter. Adds shared the same, yellow locks that looked like spun silk. Just thinking of her threatened to pull a smile onto his lips.

As she stepped up to him lightly, hand finding his arm, he didn't say anything.

"Tommy," she breathed. His name on her lips finally brought his smile to the surface.

"You're alright."

"Of course I'm alright," Lucille said, then, upon seeing the tight set of his face, she reached forward, wrapping a hand around his arm. "Are you? What's wrong?"

"You went to London- to see him."

"I had Finn."

"Finn's just a boy," Tommy said, his voice rather harsh, but Lucille had been hardened too much to be bothered by such a thing.

"I couldn't take Dawson, not with the bounty on his head. And anyone else would be too angry in the face of it all. Just tell me what's wrong, Tommy," she said, voice strong and unwavering as she reached a hand to smooth along his jaw, turning so he would face her. "With words. No skirting around how you feel."

He almost laughed at this. With words. Tommy was good with words, could use them and bend them to please and use others. But feelings were something foreign, something he'd left in the comfort of the loft space of her old home in France. They'd had no use for the rest of the war and for the first months of his time in Small Heath. They'd begun to resurface, slowly and then in spurts, when Lucy and Adds had appeared.

It wasn't that he couldn't feel, because God, did Tommy Shelby feel things. They were feelings he hadn't known existed, until she showed him them, made him feel it. He just couldn't articulate them with words, as Lucille had said. He found he didn't want to. He was fine keeping them to himself, untainted and unknown.

"I was worried," he chose to say.

"I'm alright," she said again when she realised he would say no more, fingers brushing across his cheek. "I didn't give him many chances to speak."

"It's my father. He's ill," Lucille added after a moment of silence. "And as much as he's done... I'll have to go and see him."

"We'll go together."

"I couldn't ask that of you. To go back there..."

To France. To the place that'd been struck by war mere years ago. Where he'd lost friends, lost the last bit of his softness, and almost died. The memory of the place had plagued him for almost two years, keeping him up at night, lingering in the shadows of his sight. It wasn't until Lucille had turned up with their daughter, that he was able to leave the horrors behind. He'd met her in France too, he had to remember.

"Family sticks together," he said after a moment.

"Finn told you."

"Told me what?"

Lucille's face broke into a gentle smile. "Never mind."

Johhny dogs grinned as he rattled on with something below one of the back seats of the car. For not having one, he seemed to know an awful lot about the vehicles. Tommy was not very optimistic about his friend's abilities, but then again, as long as they reached their destination in good time, he didn't care enough to comment. And even still, it was unlikely that it would be the car, making them late, given that his two brothers had not yet shown their faces. Probably bladdered- it was four o'clock in the afternoon, after all.

With a blunt cough and a laugh, Johnny Dogs pulled something metallic from the car and threw it to the ground, letting it clatter against the wall. He pulled himself out of the door, almost tripping, and planted himself beside Tommy, pulling on his flat cap.

"You don't think it's about time you got yourself a wife, Tom?" He said a moment after deciding he didn't like the silence. "I have a fine-looking cousin, she would make your life hell. You deserve her."

Tommy was silent and he took it as an opportunity to talk more, his speech slurred by the small stick that hung from beneath his lips.

"Oh, we haven't had a good old wedding in a long time," he rambled, shaking his head at a memory.

"You seem to forget I have a daughter," Tommy said finally.

He fought the urge to turn around and head back into the house, where Lucille still waited with Polly. He'd felt an added need to be with her, since returning early to find her away in London with Finn. Tommy trusted her- he trusted her as much as he did Polly. But that didn't stop the worry he'd felt, and he could still feel it lingering. He didn't trust her bastard of an ex-husband.

"Oh aye," Johnny Dogs paused as if thinking about it for a second. Then he grinned and nudged him with his bony elbow. "It's easy to forget when we never fucking see you, Tom. A wedding with your girl then, eh? What'd ya say? We could do with it around here. Get your Ada back with the family. Have a dance and some music out on the fields, or on Charlie's yard with the lights."

"I'd have to ask the woman first," Tommy said, smiling at his friend's enthusiasm.

"You mean to say you haven't bloody done it yet, Tom? What's wrong with you, lad? You get a lady to stick around this long and you don't ask her to marry yer."

"It's a bit more complicated than that," he said, shaking his head.

Complicated could be an understatement. There was business to think about, the threats made to Dawson to resolve. Now her ex-husband had made a return and her father was sick, the list of problems seemed to be growing.

It wasn't that he hadn't thought of it, because he had. Tommy had thought about it at great lengths. He'd thought about it enough to know why it was such a bad idea to do it now. But that didn't stop him from thinking of the feature. His brothers would have laughed at him, had they known how in-depth his plan on the topic was.

"Bollocks. You either want to marry the woman or you don't. Which one is it?" Johnny Dogs insisted, spitting the stick from his mouth.

"Yeah, Tommy. Which one is it?"

It was a convenient time for his brothers to show. John grinned slyly as he moved to stand in front of him, Arthur quickly following, his movements slightly more laboured by the alcohol he'd clearly consumed. He stunk of whiskey.

"I'm betting he's been planning to make Lucy our sister-in-law," Arthur said, nodding deeply as if it was a fact.

Tommy pushed him forward to the back of the car, making him lean against the door.

"Get on with it, will you?"

"That's a fucking yes. I'm telling you, John," Arthur cackled from the back seat.

Tommy could do nothing but laugh.

Thank you all for sticking with this story <3
Going to be making some edits on layout etc on old chapters so there may be some notifs on that :)