𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐈.
shelby fathers
❝ YOU'RE BARELY A FATHER TO YOUR OWN KID ❞

BIRMINGHAM,
ENGLAND 1919

♜ ━━━━━ AS IT HAPPENED, Adeline didn't care much for weddings, although this was her very first. Polly had woken her 'fore dawn and stuffed her into a straightjacket of a dress, something new and full of frills. Her aunt had snapped at her when she naturally complained, asking if she wanted to embarrass her father and disappoint her uncle John on his big day.

Del nearly told her she didn't think Uncle John would mind if she came to his wedding wearing only a top hat and her knickers.

She kept her mouth shut, but.

It was best to avoid a whacking so early in the morning.

Peace with the Lee's was secured.

They could thank Uncle John for that.

All through his wedding ceremony to Esme Lee, Del'd been bored and restless and itching for something to do. At least, the women had come late to the ceremony so they'd not have to stand through much. Really, the only good thing that'd come out of it was Ada. Ada who Del'd had passed along a message to, convinced to come back, and who was now making peace (or something close) with her Tommy.

Del was pleased that her first job involving Peaky business had been such a success.

In any case, the party after the wedding was much more her style.

Most of the adults had been wonderfully drunk, which meant there was a lot more freedom that Della was strictly used to. Though Pol did keep her away from the firecrackers yet again for fear of blowing her hands off, it was grand watching them explode into the sky all the same.

Del preened when the aunties and mothers fawned over her, praising her for her Rokka and respect for the old ways. Polly approved and Tommy was quite pleased, she could tell. Meeting fellow gypsies, especially new relatives, took about as much decorum as tea with the bloody queen.

There were plenty of other kids, girls her age, to play with. They'd stuffed themselves to their roots with bogacha and pirogo, and they played spinner and egg—filching which were both great fun. They taught her the best sort of songs, at least the ones she didn't know — the ones she already knew happened to be the dirtiest. Finn was to blame, of course. Johnny Dogs swung her round and round, sitting her on horses and teaching her tricks that might win her money at the next fair. She danced until her feet were crying for mercy, and even then she wasn't allowed to stop — by order of Ada Thorne.

Tommy sat from the sidelines with Zilpha Lee, watching as Ada forced Della into dancing yet another number.

"And again, come on!" Ada was more than a little drunk, shrieking and laughing and ordering Del around like she was small again, "Spin us round again!"

Her grip on Del's arm was far too tight to ever dream of getting free so she simply huffed and obeyed, each of them spinning in circles round and round. There was absolutely no way to stop Ada now. Her aunt had been irrepressible for always, and Del knew all there was left to do was let her burn herself out.

Poor Arthur didn't seem to understand that, trying to convince them to stop to no avail until Tommy finally deigned to come to his rescue.

"Orright Ada! Come on, have a rest." He put a steadying hand on a dizzy Del's shoulder and tried to motion his sister back to the tables, "Sit down—,"

"Come and look, Esme." Ada crooned, slipping loose of Tommy's hold, nearly pulling Del over when she stumbled, "Come and look at the family you've joined. Come and look at the man who runs it!" She punched at her brother's chest with each new accusation, her voice rising steadily, "Chooses his brothers' wives for them! Uses his daughter as a spy and messenger for his threats! He hunts his own sister down like a rat, and he tries to kill his own brother—in—law!"

Del tsked in dismay. They were really asking for it, now.

Tommy tried to hush her like he might a horse while Arthur scolded, "Ada, that's enough!"

Ada clearly did not think this was enough 'cause she kept shouting, "And now he won't even let me have a f—cking dance! Not even at a f—cking wedding!"

All the family was round her now, trying to calm her down, stop her from making such a show of them. But then Ada suddenly drew away from the lot of them, gasping and groaning as she leaned forward. Something splashed to the ground, soaking the mud and nearly getting Del's new boots.

"Holy sh—t." Polly murmured, "Water."

Del was not entirely sure what this meant, but Tommy was wide—eyed and had no answers for her. She could guess at what was happenin' but. It wasn't hard to figure out.

"The baby's comin' so?" The little girl pressed.

"Yea, it's comin'!" Arthur answered her with a groan, "Ugh, not now, Ada! Bloody hell, you do pick your times..."

"I don't think she gets to choose, Uncle Arthur," Del rolled her big eyes in exasperation.

Men knew nothing 'bout women's business.

F—ckin' pathetic.

They quickly ushered Ada back to the house, the wedding celebrations forgotten once the birthing really got started. Turned out, Della also knew next to nothing about women's business. The miracle of life was a gruesome business. Nothing beautiful about it, not at all. In fact, it was bloody terrible. Del soon found her back pressed to the wall and her eyes wide in genuine terror.

"C—Can I go, Polly?"

The men had already gone off to celebrate at the Garrison, and Del was fairly certain she'd rather be anywhere but here. The pub would do just fine. That, and a stiff drink.

Polly sighed and looked 'bout to give in when her uncle's new wife, Esme, wondered, "Why shouldn't she stay? I've been round births since I first learned to walk. All the women in our encampment do."

This was good enough for Polly.

Della thought she might faint.

The six year old was feeling a little nauseous. No, not a little. Very, very nauseous. Ada was screaming and groaning and crying something awful. She was on her knees now. There was a whole lot of blood and sweat and tears. Polly and Esme hovered over her, murmuring assurances and shouting orders like they were in a French trench or some shite. There was something about the baby being backwards or upside down or wrong face up or something else equally sickening, and Del really thought she might pass out now.

"Don't you f—ckin' throw up on me, Adeline Shelby!" Ada roared at the sight of her.

Della begged for mercy, "Polly...?"

Her aunt threw her a sympathetic grin, "You go, Lamb. Straight to the Garrison."

Del didn't need to be told twice. She bolted from the house as fast as she could, sprinting from Watery Lane, down the side streets, and then down the road until she fairly threw herself into the pub. She ignored the startled stares of the barmaid and drinkers alike and burst into the snug without any prelude, coming up short at the sight of her father and uncles drinking and grinning. She very nearly gasped in relief. Imagine her relief at seeing no blood or gore among them.

With the Shelby men, no less.

They all straightened up, suddenly sober, "Any news, Trouble?"

The girl shook her head faintly, shuffling into the snug with feet like anvils. She looked a little green round the gills, Della did, and a bit unsteady like she hadn't quite found her sea legs. Tommy found himself smiling at the sight of her little flabbergasted self.

Arthur did too, grousing, "You orright, little Della?"

She didn't answer; she really couldn't. She drifted further in, eyes still wide, panting something fierce, hand reaching for her da's sleeve for balance. Then she slumped into his side, head dropping to his shoulder as she looked at the far wall with a thousand yard stare.

Tommy quirked a brow down at her, "Eh? You orright, Adeline?"

She huffed a loose curl from her face, "I'm never havin' babies."

Her da smiled wider in amusement, "You'll stick with that, will you, Della?"

"I will."

"Good." He nodded assuredly.

The rest of the evening passed much easier. Del wasn't worried. Ada was in good hands, her and the little devil child, with Polly and Esme. It was a good thing, too, her Tommy decided to let the truce with the communists stand, just long enough for Freddie to be there for Ada and the baby. Now, she was happily tucked between her uncles as they serenaded her with drinking songs 'til she joined along, drinking tonic water instead of the whiskey she'd requested.

Her da was out in the main room, at the high top, talking with the barmaid, Grace.

Something about it made Della all itchy inside so she was determined to stay far away.

That was 'til the front door of the pub suddenly slammed open. Del gasped, shrugged off the arms of her uncles, and rushed to the exit of the snug. But all of her excitement fell away when she saw who'd just entered.

It was Pol at the door, gaze locked on her da, face red and tears in her eyes, "It's a boy."

Del didn't smile. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Tommy smiled wide, but it all faded when Polly rushed for him with fists raised. As she began to pound his chest, he quickly caught her wrists and stumbled back, smile dropping as he gaped. Del was frozen in the doorway of the snug, entire body rigid with shock and confusion. The uncles pushed past Del to drag Polly away from Tommy, yelling and calling for her to calm down.

"But the police came and took his father away!" Their aunt Polly hissed, and when Tommy stepped back with wide eyes, she sneered, "Don't you dare look at me like that!"

Tommy slowly shook his head. He exhaled in disbelief.

Polly spat at his feet, "You liar!"

Del flinched, the blue eyes she'd gotten from her father swimming with tears. Liar? Tommy lied? He wouldn't. He'd promised her he wouldn't lie, not to her, not about anything like this. Her da wouldn't have broken their deal. But Tommy said nothing in defense of himself, lips parted and chest heaving as he just stared. With another scathing look, Polly turned, snatched onto Della's hand, and dragged the man's daughter to the exit.

Tommy watched them go without another word.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Everyone was downright furious with her Tommy, and that was fair enough, she supposed. Del thought she should be, too, but she couldn't decide if she'd a reason to be. She just didn't think he did what everyone had accused him of. After all, they'd made promises not to lie to each other. And he'd promised he would let the truce last 'til sunrise so Freddie could see his little baby boy. But Polly called him a liar.

So if he lied about Ada and Freddie, then what else had he lied about?

Del had been stewing over such thoughts since the moment she woke up. She left the house after breakfast where it was just her and Finn, and she'd sat out near the Cut with her mates. They'd been playing coppers and robbers, and she'd been trying to make herself forget it, distract herself from it, but she couldn't manage.

Really, only food could provide a sufficient distraction.

Round lunch time, Della's gang got hungry and since Polly'd not come to fetch her, the six year old took it upon herself to swipe some food for a proper feast. The door didn't even whine when she quietly pushed it open. The floorboards didn't creak. Really, she was just passing through, and if she wanted to go unnoticed, she'd have to go quickly. So, she sprinted through the parlour, hopped past the shop, and then skidded into the kitchen, moving too fast to really slow down before she collided into the wall.

A picture frame of some long dead relation toppled to the ground with a worrisome crash, and Del near fell over from the sudden stop. The girl winced and rubbed her thumb into the sore spot on her forehead. She immediately tensed at the sound of Polly swearing under her breath, freezing as she anticipated an impending hiding.

Except nothing happened.

Slowly, she spun and then blinked wide eyes at the flurry of faces that awaited her. Of course there was Aunt Polly, but also Uncle Arthur, Uncle John, Finn, and then a strange man she'd never before seen in her life. Del's face twisted into a frown before she could stop it.

"And who might this be?" The strange man leered over her, greased hair slipping.

Del promptly stepped back from the invasion, giving herself space to straighten up and raise her chin. Her forehead was aching something shocking.

"Little trouble is Tommy's girl, Dad." Arthur was quick to answer, giving her curls a ruffle, "Named Adeline, funny little thing, eh?"

Del wanted to brush her uncle Arthur's hand away — she hated when they played with her hair, but she was too distracted by the foreign man standing in their dining room. So, this was her granddad. The useless b—stard. He certainly looked the part; not in appearance, but in that of his eyes. In his smile. She'd a sense about these things, and she could see it clearly. She couldn't understand the expression on his face, whether it was disbelieving or something else entirely.

A smirk twitched his lip and he stayed crouched a few feet from her face, "Is that right?"

Del's brows furrowed in, "'S right."

"What sort of name's Adeline for a bitty thing like you, eh?"

"S' a good sort," the girl replied hotly.

The strange man laughed, and the sound was so boisterous and loud it had her flinching. "Why don't you sit down right here by your handsome grandad, eh?"

Del wasn't sure she wanted to. In fact, the longer he stared at her, the more she became aware she'd very much not like to. But Arthur had a hand on her shoulder and guided her to the table to sit between him and his father. As her uncle went off to fetch lunch, she sat rim—rod straight, Del did, eyes wide and frozen on the man beside her.

Pol was fuming in the background, "Satisfied?"

"My first grandchild." Arthur Senior's eyes trailed back to Del, patting her cheek with a calloused hand, "Very satisfied."

Del cringed away from his touch and rubbed her sleeve over her cheek as if expecting some sort of grime to come off it. Anyway, she wasn't the first grandchild. In fact, she was the third in the line of Shelby grandchildren, after both John Junior and Katie. Del craned her neck back to glance at her uncle John who subtly shook his head.

She'd be the only lamb sacrificed today, then.

Arthur returned from the kitchen to set a plate and sandwich onto the table in front of the man, ever so gently. Her uncle Arthur'd never done a gentle thing in his life. This change in her home life was givin' her whiplash.

"Thank ya. You're a good boy." Arthur Senior folded his hands and bent his head over them, "Bless the father for these bounties we're about to receive..."

Del watched as he made a show of praying, like he was really the type to be praying. Polly wasn't buying it, and Della tended to take after Pol whenever her Tommy wasn't round or he wasn't in favour with the family.

Pol snapped, one hand on her hip, "Finish your sandwich and sling your hook."

"Pollyanna, I'm a guest of the head of this family." He pointed a fork to Arthur whose chest puffed a bit, voice dripping with condescension, "So, why don't you maybe tend to your mangle or your scuttle?"

Polly's lips pursed.

Del's brows shot down in an offended glare.

"The head of the family ain't here," John said sharply from the side, dark stare unrelenting.

Arthur Senior turned to the younger for confirmation.

Del'd never seen her uncle squirm before, she didn't like the look of it, "Tommy, um, sometimes helps me with, uh, with business, Dad."

Del cocked her head to the side, confused. Far as she knew, Tommy was in charge of, well, the whole thing. She about said as much, but a desperate look from Arthur had the girl sucking in her lips and swallowing her words at once. Thankfully, they were all saved from another bout of awkward silence when the side door flung open and heavy footsteps guided Tommy into the kitchen doorway.

"Aye, well, speak of the devil."

Tommy stopped in his tracks, expression slipping in the briefest hint of shock. Arthur Senior rose to greet him, hand settling on the top of Del's head as if using her for balance, as if using her for a show of how chummy they all were. The girl's eyes darted to her father's, silently pleading for an escape. His gaze met hers for only a moment, the briefest of seconds in which she saw his jaw clench 'fore he looked away.

"How are ya, son?"

"Hands off me daughter." Tommy nodded to Del and then to the door, "Then get out."

"Come on, son." Her grandad flapped his arms, giving a smile like butter wouldn't melt, "I'm a changed man."

The moment his hand left her head, Del slipped off her chair and skirted round until she was safe by Pol. Her aunt ran a hand down her hair, tucking her against her hip like it might hide her from view. The Shelby household felt more dangerous than it ever had before. It was as terrifying as it was exciting.

"This family needed you ten years ago." Tommy rasped, "And you walked out on us. Not now. Get out of this house."

Arthur tried to pipe up, "Tommy, he's different—,"

"You shut up."

Del cringed at her Tommy's tone, and Polly squeezed her shoulder.

"It's all right, son. Arthur Shelby... never stays where he's not welcome." The greasy man paused, sucked in a big breath through his nose. Then he nodded at his second eldest, smile not at all genuine, "Quite something you've become."

Tommy said nothing.

Del narrowly dodged her granddad's pat of her cheek before he moved to ruffle a hand over Finn's head, "Bye, son."

Finn turned to stare after him, but John quickly righted him. He shouldn't even spare that man a second glance. As the front door slammed shut, the remaining Shelby's just stood in silence. Del gnawed on her bottom lip, uncomfortable with the tension that had filled the room.

"He's our dad," Arthur finally murmured.

There was a low scoff from Tommy as he slowly shook his head, "He's a selfish b—stard."

"You callin' someone a selfish b—stard? It's a bit rich, Tommy." His elder brother smiled bitterly, eyes locked on the table, "I mean, thanks to you, we're already down a bloody sister... and you're barely a father to your own kid."

Del paled and glanced quickly up at her da. For the first time, true menace appeared on Tommy's cool and collected face. He snapped over to stare down at his brother, brows raised and lips parted.

"You want to see him, Arthur? You want to see him?" Tommy pointed to the door with true viciousness dripping from his tongue, "You go with him."

So, Arthur did.

Tommy barely spared Adeline a glance before he left in the opposite direction.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was past her bedtime, and Della and Polly were the only ones in the house. Her aunt had been in a state ever since the men had all pissed off for the evening, and Del had become the unfortunate recipient of Pol's less than pleasant mood. In the bath, she scrubbed away a full layer of her skin, after that she brushed through her curls with extra firm tugs, and now she tucked her into bed with a little more vigour than strictly necessary.

"Walking in, no apology, no warning at all—,"

Del was trying not to cringe as Polly dug firm fingers into her sides to push the blanket under her, muttering and cursing all the while.

"F—ckin' men, out at all hours, thieving and lying and running round with short bloody memories—,"

The little girl squinted as Pol huffed a sigh and glared over at the empty cot 'cross from her own.

"I'll be giving Finn a smack like he's never seen when he gets his arse back home." Del giggled and Polly arched a stern brow, "Think that's funny, do you? Don't think I didn't see you stealing those firecrackers from Johnny Dogs at the wedding."

Del stopped laughing.

"Mmhm."

With an amused quirk to her lips, Polly finally sat down on the bed beside her. She was gentler now when she began to stroke back the hair from her forehead. Della fiddled with the ragged edge of her quilt, bringing up her thumbnail to bite on.

"Polly?"

"Yes, Lamb?"

"Does..." The girl spoke barely above a whisper, "Does my Tommy like me?"

Shock rippled across her aunt's expression, "'Course he likes you. What sort of thing is that to be worrying about?"

"Dunno." She looked back down at the blankets, wantin' nothing more than to hide down beneath them. "Is Tommy like my grandda?"

"No." There was no doubt in her mind, "Tommy's nothing like that b—stard."

"But you said he's a liar and Ruthie's mum, she said he's a bad man." Del had the bit between her teeth now, and she wouldn't give it up 'til she had answers, "Is he that? A bad man?"

Polly stared at her for a long time, still stroking her hair, face perfectly straight before she murmured, "Yes, Adeline. Your father is a bad man. But he is our bad man, and that makes all the difference."

Then she leaned close and kissed her forehead with a quiet 'sleep well, Lamb'. Del let out a quiet breath as she considered this, dropping her curly head back onto her pillow. Polly stood and turned down the lamp so the whole room was shrouded in darkness apart from the flickering street light outside. Pol was halfway to the door when she stopped and turned to raise a brow at the little girl.

"Lamb. What was your plan with those firecrackers?"

Del blushed and sunk further into her bed, "Will you whack me if I tell ya?"

"I'll whack you either way."

In that case...

"Was gonna... put the firecrackers..." The girl chewed on her bottom lip and whispered, "In the exhaust pipe of Billy Kimber's motorcar next time he came to visit?"

Polly stared at her for a good long moment before she scoffed out a laugh and shook her head towards the ceiling, "Oh, Adeline Shelby. You are your father's daughter, through and through."

Even after all she'd heard, Del still took it as a compliment.

Once she heard Pol tuck in for the night, the girl did what she did best and she snuck out the window. Enough was enough. Her da might be a liar and he might be a bad man, but he was hers. And she needed to make sure he hadn't lied to her.

Della had her boots hung round her neck by their laces and she tugged her coat over her shift as soon as she landed on Garrison Lane. When she entered the pub, she went for subtly rather than brazenness this time round. Still, she got more attention than she'd hoped. At her arrival, most of the patrons turned and Grace the barmaid looked up from her spot at the high top, having been working on books and numbers and the sort.

Even so, Tommy was nowhere in sight.

D—mn it.

Del hopped, dropped onto her belly, and then dragged herself up onto a bar stool none too gracefully. With a heavy breath, she rested her elbows on the bar top and peered round now that she had some added height. Still, her Tommy was nowhere to be seen.

"Hello..." Grace slowly stepped over, hand trailing along the bar behind her, "You must be Adeline."

The little girl was surprised, "How youse know that?"

"Oh. Um."

Grace seemed to be fumblin' for an answer, and that strange feeling in Del's chest stirred awake again. There was something wrong with this barmaid, she couldn't be sure what it was but. In any case, Del didn't have the time to wait for some sort of convoluted explanation. Polly was gonna notice she was missing sooner or later, and she'd rather avoid a secondary whacking to the first whacking for the whole firecracker incident.

Del interrupted, "Where's my Tommy?"

"You mean your father?" Grace blinked, "He's in the snug, but I don't believe he wishes to be—,"

The little girl was already hopping off the stool and moving for the snug. 'Fore she could think better of it, she gripped the cold copper handle, drew in a quick breath, and gave it a twist. She waltzed inside as bravely as she could, but her boots skidded to a sudden halt at what awaited her. Her Tommy was not alone. There was a man across from him, standing up from his chair and leaning across the table with an obvious air of intimidation.

"I am judge, jury, and executioner." His voice was vicious and his lips were wet as he threatened her father, "I find you guilty and I pass sentence—,"

The door swung back and hit the wall. Both men swiftly turned to look at the newest arrival. An empty glass and a cigarette sat between the two men, tendrils of smoke dancing through the tense air. Tommy stared at her with an intensity that made her wince, his entirely blank expression cracking just enough for Della to know that she'd made a very, very grave mistake.

She shifted uneasily, murmuring, "Tommy...?"

He cleared his throat, put down his cigarette, and met eyes with the man once more, "If you'll excuse us a moment, Mister Byrne."

Mister Byrne dropped back into his seat just as her father stood from his. Del backed away as Tommy approached nearer, each moving in a strange tandem — a step for a step. Finally, they left the snug and he closed the door tightly behind him, all without his gaze ever leaving her blanched face.

He'd never whacked her before. He'd never even raised his voice at her. But suddenly she was very unsure of what was about to happen next. He looked somehow much taller right now, looming over her with eyes that were nearly as sharp as his razor blades.

Then, in a voice so low it was nearly a growl, Tommy asked, "What the f—ck do you think you're doin', Adeline?"

"Uhm..." Del shifted foot to foot, tugging at her collar, kicking at the floor, "I—I was just... Just..."

"Just what?" He snapped.

Her eyes dropped further, and she knew she needed to distract him. Make him less angry. Make him forget that man's threats. Make him remember that he liked her.

She quietly croaked out, "Who's that man?"

"He's a bad man."

"Like you?"

Tommy was surprised. So was Del. Just as he'd never punished her with his hands, she'd never punished him with her judgements. Really, she hadn't meant to say it; it'd just slipped out. But now it was too late to take it back. Tommy stepped closer. Del tensed. He stopped and tensed as well. For a moment, they simply stood there, each suddenly panting as if they'd just run a race.

Then, her father cleared his throat once more, "Yes. Like me. Which is why you belong at home."

She opened her mouth, to explain why she'd come, to apologise, to say anything, really.

"Go."

Della wouldn't dare disobey him now.

She spun round, grabbed the door, and dashed out of the pub as quick as she could. She was too depressed to take the rooftops so she stalked down the lane with her fists in her pockets and her head hanging low. She was halfway there when a pair of boots suddenly blocked her path. She huffed in annoyance. Another day, another b—stard. She rolled her eyes upward, ready to let loose her fury, and then she stopped.

A scarred face leered down at her.

Of f—cking course. Just her luck.

Arthur Senior crouched down, hands on his knees, so they were nearly nose—to—nose. Then he grinned, "My, my, look who it is: Little Miss Adeline Shelby. I'm quite pleased to see ya."

"Ah hell..."

Del backed away a bit, irritated as she was uncomfortable. Her big eyes darted over his shoulder and she found her granddad wasn't alone but had two of her uncles with him — Arthur and Finn, both. She nearly sighed to herself. Didn't they know any better?

"What're you doin' out so late, Little Della?" Uncle Arthur wondered worriedly.

"Just visitin' my Tommy at the Garrison," technically the truth.

"We're goin' to The Marquis to drink!" Finn told her far too happily, puffing his chest to seem older, "You should come with us, Del!"

"Not goin' anywhere with him."

Her eyes cut to Arthur Senior viciously.

"Now, Della..." Her eldest uncle looked nervous, eyes darting to her granddad.

"It's orright, son. Perhaps wee Del is like her father and thinks she's too good for the likes of we." Arthur Senior grabbed hold of her best friend's shoulder and shook him a little, "What d'ya think of that, my Finn?"

"He ain't your Finn," Del snapped indignantly.

Arthur Senior tsked, "Certainly got your father's temper too, don't ya, girl?"

All these f—cking men. With their abandonment and their sharp words and their thin smiles like they knew better. She'd just about had enough.

Della rolled her eyes, took her best friend's hand, and dragged him off to the side so she could whisper, "Bloody h—ll, Finn. What're you doin' with the useless b—stard?"

They'd both heard the stories. They both knew he'd abandoned them.

Finn's eyes were so big and sad, and he fidgeted a bit, "He's still me da, Del, don't care if he's a b—stard." He paused and then gave her a look she didn't care for at all, "You know..."

She did know. So what else could she say?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

━━━━━━ annie speaks ━━━━━━

another ouch. okay so this was a bit of a hard one for me to write? like i've bene over it fifteen times and still i just? ehhh. writing arthur senior was ick for me, and while he doesn't have much plot beyond this episode, i really wanted to show effects that his presence would have one the already tense relationships of the family right now, especially tommy and del. hopefully it turned out okay?

also, writing del being completely suspicious about grace being shady means a lot to me. grace and del have a very... complicated (?) relationship. i guess that's the best way to put it? ugh, i'm so fricking excited for series 3. del is not a good step—daughter lol, it's going to be so much chaos, i live for it.

comments do tend to encourage me to write faster so i'd love to hear your thoughts!