𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟖

Madeline was rushed through the hospital and seen to immediately. "Am I going to die?" She asked the nurse closest to her as they transferred her onto the bed. The nurse said nothing. "Please don't let me die— I have three kids." She was almost breathless, her heart pounding rapidly. "Two girls and a boy— one of the girls are newborn. She's called Juliette. The other Katie and my son James." She rambled, thinking of whatever she could to keep herself talking.

Nurses rushed around the room to gather all the tools they would need.

"And I have a husband. His name is John. John Shelby. He's kind. Not like his brothers. He loves me." Madeline was doing anything she could to stay awake. "He's a good dad too."

Madeline cried out in pain as the nurses lifted her to put her on the bed.

"Stop— stop!" She begged. She was placed onto the mattress and the pain eased slightly. Madeline's head felt fuzzy and the light hurt her eyes so much that she closed them. "Is he here?"

Nobody answered.

"My husband. Is he here?" She asked again, unable to move her arms as she began hyperventilating from the pain. "Fucking talk to me!" She cried.

"No, ma'am nobody has arrived yet." One finally answered her.

"Tell me—" she tried but her voice trailed off as she spoke, tiredness and weakness overpowering her. Madeline had tried so hard to stay awake due to the fear of never waking again.

-

"Get out of my fucking way!" John roared as he pushed through the halls. "Oi— you." He grabbed a doctors arms. "Madeline Lee-Shelby. Where is she?" he asked.

"Who are you? I'm afraid I cannot give our information without knowing who you are to the patient."

"I'm her fucking husband now tell me where the fuck she is— by order of the Peaky Blinders." He demanded. The doctor's face fell slightly and he searched his clipboard quickly.

"Down the hall. First room on the right." He nodded.

John pushed past him and got to the room. Just as he swung the doors open, he was stopped immediately. "Sir you can't be in here." A nurse said. John tried to look over their shoulders.

"She's my wife— is she alright? Tell me she's alright." His voice was hoarse and his eyes red.

"Sir i'll ask you again to leave." The woman remained calm.

"She needs me— please!" John begged. The woman looked at him with warning in her eyes. It took Theodore to catch up to him and convince him to stay out in the hall.

"They'll tell you as soon as they have information to give." He assured him.

John nodded and paced slightly. "If she dies, Theo—" he began. "She ain't gonna die." Theodore snapped. He couldn't bare the idea of his older sister dying. She was the only blood family he had left.

"Yeah but—" John tried.

"No." Theo aggressively grabbed his face. "No talk of death. My sister won't die." Theodore demanded.

John breathed heavily and closed his eyes as he felt tears fill them. Theodore let out a breath and pulled the Shelby into his embrace, feeling the way he practically fell into him.

"I don't want to cry—"

"Cry." Theodore said. "You have a right to. It don't make you weak, John. No matter what you were fucking told as a kid. It don't make you weak." Theodore whispered to him. He knew for a fact that the Shelby lads were brought up to believe that crying made you less of a man.

But emotions were one of the most beautiful things to exist. Crying was what made you human.

Ada's heels echoed as she walked down toward them. "Ive spoken to Tommy. He's with Polly down the hall." She said. "He's managed to round everybody up. They're back on Watery Lane."

John pulled away from Theodore and nodded, wiping his eyes shamefully.

Ada took one look at her saddened brother and sighed, tutting and pulling him in. "Oh, love." Ada fussed. "It won't get better if you sit here and worry about her." She said. "Be hopeful." Ada said, trying to give him some advice as well as comfort.

John nodded into her shoulder and squeezed her slightly.

"If she goes, Ada." He whispered. Ada pursed her lips together sadly. "You need to help me with the kids." He said. "I can't do it by myself. It was hard enough with Katie and now there's three of them. Martha was around when Katie was a little baby— Juliette is only a baby. If Madeline doesn't live, Ada, you have to help me."

Ada brushed her fingers against his face. "What kind of sister would I be if I didn't help you, John?" She said truthfully.

Tommy walked down the hall, his coat trailing behind him as he walked quickly. "John!?" He called out. John turned. "Where is she? Where is she, eh?" Tommy asked, looking through the small windows of the doors.

John nodded toward the room she was in. "They won't let me in though, Tom." He said.

Tommy huffed and pressed his fingers to his temples. "Fuck—" he said. "Christmas day. Christmas fucking day." He whispered. "Where are the kids?"

"With Maria." John said.

"I'll have Isiah and Finn go with Johnny Doggs to get them from the house. Maria too. It isn't safe for them to be there. We need to be together— all in one place. Every man in Small Heath is apart of our army." Tommy said.

"How's Micheal?" John asked, trying to think of anything but Madeline.

"He's in critical condition. And Madeline— was she badly hurt?" Tommy asked, unsure if he wanted an answer.

John looked down at his feet.

"Shit.." was all Tommy could say at his brothers reaction. "Right— give it time and we will speak to the doctors." Tommy patted John's shoulder.

George had been sat, staring at the floor the whole time. He didn't know what to think. He had a lump in his throat that wouldn't go away. Tears burned his eyes but he refused to cry. Not in front of John. George was terrified of losing her. They all were.

-

After Tommy had spoken to Doctors, John was finally let into the room. His heart fell at the sight of her. She was pale. Her hair was slightly messy and her skin was stained with blood.

She looked lifeless.

"Is she alive?" John asked shakily, hovering beside the bed.

"It's a miracle she survived. I've never seen anything like it." He said. "One of the bullets landed so close to her heart that if it had been any closer to the right it would've killed her instantly."

John raised his eyebrows. "And how many bullets were there? How many times was she shot?"

"Four times." The man told him. "One skimmed her shoulder so that has damaged the skin. One went through her arm, the other landing in her shoulder and then the last beside the heart."

John nodded, a hand over his mouth. "So she'll be alright then?"

"We believe so. The recovery will take time but i'm sure the odds are in her favour." The doctor nodded with a slight smile. "I'll leave you for a moment."

Once the door closed, John pulled a chair to sit beside the bed. His hand hovered over hers and he hesitated before holding it. Her skin was cold.

John sighed and leaned his forehead on the mattress beside her.

"Fucking hell, Mads." He spoke to himself. "I honestly thought you were dead." He said. She remained asleep. He watched as her chest rose up and down steadily. "I'd have gone insane if I'd have lost you. Do you know that?" He spoke to her although she wouldn't speak back.

John gently squeezed her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles.

"Katie was worried." He said. "I couldn't tell her though. No, she's too young." John spoke to himself.

Silence for a moment.

"Fuck— i'm so glad you're okay, love." He breathed, kissing her hand again. "So fucking glad." He repeated.

Madeline's fingers twitched slightly and he lifted his head. Nothing more happened. John sighed and shook his head. At least there was a true sign she was alive. She was breathing and had movement in her hands. That's all he needed to feel at ease.

"I'm gonna stay here till you wake up, Mads. I'm not going anywhere, yeah?" John promised. "I'll be right here." He said. "Nobody is taking me anywhere." He said. "I'm not leaving you."

That night, John fell asleep at Madeline's bedside. Ada had tried convincing him to go back to the house on Watery Lane and come back in the morning or even ask the nurses if they had a more comfortable option for him but he refused.

The chair he was sat in was enough. Being at her side was enough. And he felt that if he was at her side, no harm could come to her. Not again.

That's all he wanted, for her to be safe. He'd never would have forgave himself if she had died. He was basically the whole reason the feud had escalated with the Changretta's. If he could go back and change things, he would.

All he wanted was her. And for her to be safe. He wanted to run off with her and the children, away from all the smoke and the trouble.

And this might have finally convinced him to do just that. He couldn't risk having his family hurt again. Especially not Madeline. Not the mother of his children. He had been through that once with Martha and the grief that her death brought him was horrid. He couldn't go through it again.

John couldn't bare to think what would have happened if Madeline hadn't lived. He believed that he would have truly lost himself. He couldn't lose her. He physically couldn't.

Madeline was what held him together. She was the one who made him feel like a man again. She made him feel love again. She showed him what love really felt like.

And she showed him what it felt like to be vulnerable without feeling ashamed.

Nobody had ever done that for him before. Never. His father was a woman beating, heartless bastard who would turn away when his children cried. Arthur Senior would close the door in their faces when that first tear shed. Their mother though, she was as loving as they came. But her thoughts got the best of her. She couldn't take it anymore. She was becoming a ghost of the person she once was and thought the best solution was to leave.

So she threw herself in the canal.

John also remembered that day like it was yesterday. Some nights it would haunt him. His mother laying face down in the freezing water of the canal was an image he could never forget.

And he blamed his father for that day. He remembered going into the house and pulling Arthur Senior up by his collar, screaming at him about what he had done. Hitting his chest and pointing fingers at him. Tommy and Arthur tried to stop him. But then, all of a sudden, Arthur Senior had John up against a wall.

His hands were wrapped around his neck and his face was going red. Little Ada was screaming and crying out of fright, begging that their father would let him go. Arthur junior was the one to take the little one out of the room. He had always tried to protect the youngest two from their father.

Tommy was the one to drag Arthur Senior off his little brother. He used force and a lot of it. John had been dropped to the floor, clutching at his neck and trying to regain his breath. Tommy then took the rest of the scolding. Punches were being thrown his way, bruising and grazing his pale skin.

John begged for him to stop. He was too weak to do anything but he begged. He shouted.

It was only when their Aunt Polly entered the house that it came to a stop. She pulled a gun on Arthur Senior and pushed the two boys behind her. She forced the older man out of the house and told him that if he were to ever lay a hand on them again, he would never see the light of day again.

That was the day Aunt Polly became their protector. The woman of the house. They lived with her from that day onward. That was also the day that the older Shelby boys forced themselves to toughen up. They prepared themselves incase they needed to defend one another against their father.

They also spent their times protecting their youngest two siblings from him too. Ada's cries would keep John up at night. They would replay in his head. She wouldn't cry through the night, well, only when she had a restless sleep.

On those nights she would climb in beside him and let him tell her stories of their mother until she fell asleep.

John would do anything for his family. Absolutely anything. And although he wouldn't turn his back on them, he would certainly do what was right.

And if that mean leaving and starting over. Then that's what he would do.