Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tommy stares at the razor blade between his fingers. His hands haven’t been so steady for days. Always shaking, always cold. He feels eerily calm like never before. He finally knows what he wants. He knows what he needs to do.

He likes the way the light flickers on the razor blade’s smooth surface. Funny that seemingly it's such a tiny, harmless thing. It’s small, flat and shiny, exactly like something his baby brother, Finn would find interesting and fascinating if he saw it. And still, it can do so much harm.

But it can do good as well, he thinks. It can bring oblivion to tormented, tired souls. It can give salvation to those who feel like they’ve been damned and their mere existence is a burden and a curse to the few remaining who loves them. To those who lost the one who loved them the most. Like him. The son who wasn’t enough to make his mum stay.

He grazes the pale skin of his wrist with the edge of the razor blade, at first only tentatively, just to make sure that’s what he really wants. That he really, truly means it this time. There's no room for hesitation and experiments. A few drops of blood already appear, they look like tiny red diamonds in the dim light of the bathroom. It’s beautiful and something real that grounds him.

It doesn't hurt though, not really. Not enough. He wants it to hurt. He hurts so much inside that he needs to let it out one way or another. He can’t go on like this. He hopes he doesn’t have to wait for long to end it all.

He takes a deep breath and steels himself. He makes the first real cut, then cuts deeper and deeper. Once, twice, first just his wrist, then all along the length of his skinny inner forearm.

Again.

Again.

Again.

The pain escapes the cage of his body with the gushing blood and finally, for the first time in a seemingly endless row of miserable days, he doesn't feel like screaming or drowning in his own thoughts.

He lets the razor blade fall into his other hand, but it's weird, there's a numb feeling beneath the roaring agony and he can't really control his fingers' movements.
Still, he tries to cut his right arm too, he needs to do this better. But it's not deep enough, he isn't satisfied with his work.

Stupid, useless Tommy, such a pathetic crybaby, can't even do this one thing right. He fucks up everything, he's nothing but a waste of breath. He hears his father's yelling in his ear, distant like a vague memory from a past life.

But it’s Mum who is a memory now.

If he could do it right, just this one, final thing, they would all be memories soon.
He would be a bad memory to them. One that is easy to forget and hard to remember when they look back years later.

His vision is blurry but he tries to find the blade where it fell on the tile floor. He can't see it, no matter how hard he tries to blink away the creeping darkness from his eyes.

He needs to cut deeper, so much deeper than this, deep enough to slash his arms to pieces. He needs to make so much damage that nobody can put him back together ever again. What he's done won't be enough, he fucks up everything and everyone will be just angry at him. He only gives them further proof to see what a disappointment he is. He should have cut his thighs, fuck, he knows that, but he's too tired to take off his trousers.

Too tired to do anything but breathe. Hopefully soon too tired to even breathe.

He forces his eyes open to take a look at the massacre he’s done. He sits in the empty bathtub – he doesn’t want to cause too much trouble with his last act on this goddamn Earth, the tub is easier to clean than anything else -, in a deep red pool of blood that keeps growing rapidly, his left is a mess, the blood is still gushing from it in a satisfactory speed. Maybe he didn't do so bad with his right either, there is blood, blood, blood, beautiful and horrendous blood everywhere. How strange that the sight of blood always frightened him as a little boy and now he finds it so beautiful. A light, small chuckle leaves his dry lips at the thought. It feels weird. He can't remember the last time he laughed. Must have been a lifetime ago.

He didn't know it would be so fast.

He's freezing, should have brought his blanket in.

He doesn't like to be cold at all, it's a lonely, abandoned feeling and he's got enough of that. Always cold, always alone in the dark.

He misses his mum. He misses her so much he can’t bear it.

How is it possible to hurt so much and still be alive?

It's always so cold since she's gone. As if all the warmth has been stolen from the world.

That's why he's here, bleeding out in the bathroom.

If he did it right, he'll see Mum again soon.

He imagines her soft, warm arms circling around his evanescent body and he wants to melt into her familiar embrace. He imagines how she used to cradle him when he was small. The songs she used to sing are echoing in his foggy mind as he starts to drift away.

Did she know back then what she would do years later? Did she already plan leaving this world? Did she ever suspect Tommy would follow her? Did she care? What would she think now?

His head drops and he can't keep himself upright anymore, he's too tired. He just wants to sleep. He needs to sleep after so many restless nights when he was just staring into the darkness, waiting for it to swallow him. He curls into a ball, as small as he can, so he won't bother anyone else.

Nobody needs to know Tommy Shelby exists.

Nobody will mind if he doesn't anymore.

Chapter Text

„Tommy!”

Someone is screaming and shakes him violently. He doesn’t like it. He wants to sleep.

„What have you done? Oh, Tommy, what have you done to yourself?”

There’s a strong, firm pressure on his arm. Then on the other one too. It hurts. He lets out a weak moan in protest.

„Come on, son! Open your eyes, look at me!”

He can’t. He’s drifting away.

„Tommy, wake up, for fuck’s sake! I won’t lose you too. Never you!”

He isn’t here anymore.

„Tommy! Don’t you dare doing this to me!”

Doing what? He isn’t doing anything. He is somewhere else. It’s a warm and safe place.

„Hold on! Help is on the way. Oh, Jesus, there’s so much blood!”

Help? He doesn’t need it. Mum will be here soon. She will take his hand and help. Everything will be fine then.

„Tommy!”

---

Pain. That’s the first sensation he feels. A dull, throbbing pain in his arms.

There’s an annoying beeping sound. He wants to see what it is but he’s too tired to move. Too tired to even try to open his eyes.
He doesn’t know where he is. There’s a warm weight on him, must be a blanket. But it’s not the quilted blanket Mum made for him when he was little. It’s not very soft, feels almost uncomfortable and itchy on his skin.

His head is foggy.

He hurts.

Was it supposed to hurt?

Suddenly a cold, blood-curdling feeling spreads over him. He hurts. Pain means life. He’s still alive.

Fuck.

His breath catches in his throat and he feels like drowning. The beeping sound quickens and it bothers him even more. Something must have gone wrong. Why is he still alive? He wasn’t supposed to...

He fucked up everything.

There’s a rough, warm hand on his face and somebody squeezes his numb, cold fingers. He hasn’t realized how cold he is until now, when he feels the warmth of another human being. If only his soul could be warmed like this too.

„Tommy? Tommy, are you awake?” The voice is familiar. It's a man. Not Dad, he would never caress his face like this. „It’s okay, son. You're in the hospital. You’ll be okay. Just try to calm down.”

It’s Uncle Charlie. Why is he here? Why is Tommy here, when he should be with Mum or forgotten somewhere in the sweet oblivion, if Polly’s words about the afterlife were all lies as he always suspected. Still, he hoped to see Mum again.

He wants to be held by Mum.

He wants Mum.

He feels tears welling in his eyes and they’re streaming down his face in hot trails before he could help it. A violent sob wants to erupt from his weak body but it’s captured somewhere inside him. Maybe where his soul was supposed to be. Before it got lost somewhere in the dark abyss of lonesome agony he’s been wandering since that awful day by the canal.

His breathing is erratic. He feels the panic taking over him.
He’s choking on his suppressed anguish and guilt.

„Fuck.” Uncle Charlie mutters. He couldn’t agree more. There’s something on his face and all of a sudden he can breathe again. He doesn’t want it, it blows cold air into his face and it feels weird and uncomfortable. He tries to turn away but a hand steadies his head. „Stop it, boy. It helps, aye? You only need to breathe.”

You only need to breathe.
You only need to breathe.
You only need to breathe.

As if being alive was that easy.

He forces his eyes open and he’s met with Uncle Charlie’s worried face. Everything is blurry but he sees that Charlie looks like he aged ten years since he last saw him, and that wasn’t his best shape to begin with. It was at...

It was Mum’s funeral. Uncle Charlie stood behind him during the ceremony. Tommy knew Mum would have wanted him to be with the closest family, but there was a heated argument, lots of shouting and threats, Dad’s face red with fury, Polly’s dark eyes burning with fire, screaming about dishonoring Mum’s memory and idiot men who aren't able to behave for one fucking day, and Uncle Charlie with an endless well of pain in his eyes that reflected what Tommy felt. He doesn’t remember much of the days since Mum was pulled out from the cut. It is all in a blur of endless despair and darkness. But he remembers how grounding Charlie’s presence was behind him. The reassuring weight of his calloused hand on his shoulder that never left him until the ceremony ended. His arms around his shaking body when it was all over and he could barely stay on his feet.

The same hand that now cups his face as if it was the most precious and fragile thing in the world.

A distressed, broken whimper escapes his lips and he’s sobbing; sobbing like a lost child in a dark forest who can’t find the way home.
He is crying for his Mum, for himself, for Uncle Charlie who had to see what he’s done and who must be disappointed in him. He’s crying for the pain he caused to his family. For his siblings, who lost their mother as well, just like him, and now they have to deal with their brother’s stupidity on top of that.

He doesn’t know if he can ever stop crying. He wishes the flood of tears could wash him away into nothingness.

„Shh” Charlie tries to still him and kisses his clammy forehead. It feels a little out of place, he's never been very affectionate but Tommy holds onto that reassuring feeling like a lifeline. „You’re here. I’m here. That’s the only thing that matters now. Don’t think about anything else. We’ll solve it together, eh?”

„I... I’m so-sorry.” Tommy cries and looks at him with pleading eyes. Charlie can barely bear to face the undisguised, raw pain radiating from them.

„I’m s-sorry. P-please, don’t be a-angry. I’m s-so sorry.”

„It’s okay, Tommy. Nobody is angry at you. We all love you, right? We’re here for you. Your Aunt Polly, Arthur, John and Ada. Even little baby Finn. I’m here for you. Nothing else matters now, okay? Just calm down and rest. You’ll be fine.” Charlie says again and he can’t hide the concern in his voice.

„I don’t w-want to.” He whimpers brokenly.

„What don’t you want? To calm down? To be better?” Charlie gives him a confused look and tries to wipe away the tears from his face. It’s no use. The tears will never stop. He will drown in them. Just like Mum drowned in the water.

Tommy shakes his head.

„To be alive."

Chapter Text

Charlie steps out of Tommy’s room after he fell into an exhausted sleep. He stayed by his nephew's side for a little while, just to remind himself that he's alive and revel in the feeling, despite the disquiet that sat heavily in his heart. He needed that time to carefully hold Tommy's limp, ice cold hand in his own and listen to the sound of his breathing, to watch the rising and falling of his narrow chest. It seemed shallow compared to his own, but in that moment Charlie was happy to have anything to listen to at all. He only left when the nurse came back and started bustling around the boy.

He leans against the wall for a moment and closes his tired eyes. A weary sigh escapes him when he sees Tommy’s broken, fragile form curled up in a pool of his own blood once again. He knows he will never be able to chase those vivid, dreadful pictures away from his mind, even if he lives for a hundred years. He sees it every time his eyelids close and they will haunt him till the day he dies. The way Tommy held himself with his wounded, bleeding arms, thin as twigs of a young tree. The fucking razor blade on the tile floor, covered in blood, mocking him with it’s simple existence. The tear tracks on the boy’s face, pale as a ghost. The bluish hue of his slightly parted, dry lips. His eerily and frighteningly peaceful look, despite the fact that he’s been lying in the middle of his own slaughter. His stillness.

Charlie had enough of that for a lifetime, seeing someone he loves being so still and unresponsive. So far away from life that he couldn't reach them.

Tommy didn’t react at first when he was shaking him, maybe a little too roughly. He didn’t stir when Charlie was screaming his name, desperately calling him back from whatever otherworldly place he’s been wandering too. Just like his mother, Sarah, when Charlie found her after two days of searching and pulled her out of the damn cut. And Tommy was there within seconds. He saw her. But what was found in the water didn’t look like Tommy's beautiful mother. It was just a corpse. A frightening, bloated, grey body, an empty shell of what once was known as Sarah Shelby. Charlie curses himself every single day for reluctantly allowing the boy to join him in the search by the canal. God forgive him for that day because he knew he could never forgive himself. It’s his sin that Tommy saw when his beloved mother’s dead body was laid out on the muddy riverbank. It’s his sin that her son’s last memory of her is a sight no child should ever witness. Hell, nobody should witness something gruesome and shocking like that. Charlie doesn’t want to think of the screaming, the crying, the fighting and begging to let him go, to let him come to his mother. Neither the numbness and silence that followed. That broken look in his eyes, as if they were filled with shattered glass.

Nothing could bring Sarah Shelby back from death. And however painful it is to admit, he knows now that the Reaper had a hold on Tommy's soul as well. They were just too blinded by their own affliction to see how close he got to the edge before he fell into the abyss. God knows if he can be dragged back to the land of the living.

He can’t think of all that, and he still does, because he can’t think of anything and anyone else but Tommy now, and if he thinks of him, he doesn’t see the beaming, joyful little boy that followed him everywhere and always wanted to be in the stables with horses. No, he sees that limp body in the fucking bathtub. All that blood. He’ll never forget the relief when Tommy let out a weak, barely audible moan in protest when he tried to put pressure on his arms and hastily wrapped the first towels he could find around those godawful gashes. Nor the fresh wave of panic when he didn’t react at all to anything and Charlie couldn’t find his pulse.

He wants to force himself to stop his trail of thoughts. If he continues, if he thinks of the rushing paramedics, words like hypovolemic shock, critical condition and blood transfusion circling around his head, the resusciation and the sound of the ambulance or the endless waiting and pacing on echoing, white hospital corridors, he will break too. He can’t afford himself that luxury when Tommy needs him more than ever. So he shakes his head as if he could chase the haunting memories away, collects himself and goes on his way to find Polly and Arthur.

He sighs in a strange mix of relief and concern at the thought of Arthur. He can bravely and willingly bear the weight of finding Tommy in that state if it means he could spare a small amount of pain to the boys and Ada. They already had too much weight on their shoulders. Charlie, Polly and the grief-stricken, red-eyed kids were in the kitchen, gathered around a candle they lit for Sarah’s soul. They were sitting a silent vigil for her after the funeral, similarly to the day before, when they were joined by relatives and friends during the wake. Arthur Sr. was nowhere to be found, and Charlie felt a strange mix of anger and ease at his non-attendance. He wanted to be there, but it wasn't supposed to be him in the first place to sit at the head of the table. He noticed Tommy’s absence, of course he did, but he naively thought he’s just withdrawn. That he needed some time alone or perhaps - and hopefully - a short nap before he could join them to practice old traditions. He knew from Polly that Tommy barely closed his eyes since Sarah was gone, and that the memories of the day when they found her haunted him in the night. They all hoped it would get better after the funeral gives him some kind of closure, though nothing could ever erase what he saw. Tommy refused to talk about his nightmares, then entirely refused to sleep after three nights of waking up shaking, screaming or drenched in sweat with an endless flood of tears running down his face and a weight on his chest that barely let him breathe. He haven't slept a wink, even if Arthur or Polly sat beside him all night, holding his trembling hand like when he was a little boy. He was just staring at the wall with empty, red eyes and the shadows under them grew darker with every restless night. Nothing and nobody could chase away the darkness that was eating him alive. Charlie planned to come up to the boy's room to see how he was later, naïvely hoping that he could finally rest a bit after saying farewell to his mother. He looked like he could barely stand and it made Charlie wonder how many sleepless nights and stressful days it takes in a row until someone simply crashes down from exhaustion.

That was when Polly rushed into the room only a few minutes after quietly excusing herself to check on Finn, who was sleeping peacefully in his crib since they got home. Her face was an unreadable mask when she pulled Charlie by his arm to be out of the kids earshot. She was rambling about locked doors, switched on lights, empty bedrooms and deadly silence, and Charlie knew what he had to do. Polly had already been dialing 999 by the time he broke down the door to run into the bathroom. She always had good intuitions.
Thankfully she also managed to keep the kids in the kitchen, making sure they don’t see anything they weren’t supposed to. She told them there was an accident and Tommy got injured. That he lost a little blood so he needed be taken to the hospital.
A little blood, Charlie scoffs. The kid needed several blood transfusions because he lost more than three litres of it, so much that there's barely any left in him.

Arthur knew the truth. Of course he did, he’s a grown up man, Polly can’t fool him that easily. He is a good big brother to all his siblings, but has a special bond with Tommy. Charlie has always known that since the day he saw them together for the first time. He was lucky enough to witness as Sarah introduced the three years old boy to his wee, quiet baby brother. Tommy easily fit in the palm of Charlie’s hand but was already so much stronger than he looked. Arthur just slid a finger into a small fist as his mother showed him and announced that he would forever protect his Tiny Tommy from everything. He grinned at Sarah when Tommy opened his blue, unfocused eyes and blinked at him sleepily like a baby owl. From that moment Arthur's heart belonged to his little brother entirely. The memory brings a faint, quickly fading smile to his face. Arthur told him in the silence of the waiting room that he saw it, he knew that something had been wrong with Tommy all day, just didn’t know how severe it was. He was berating himself for ignoring the signs and not paying enough attention to his brother whom he swore to always keep safe and take care of. Charlie couldn’t offer more reassurance at that moment than a squeeze of his shaking shoulder. He wishes he could do more for Arthur. He’s dying of knowing he hasn’t done enough for Tommy. What if he’ll do the same mistake again with his older brother?

„How is he?” Arthur gets on his feet the moment he spots Charlie.

His voice is strained and he averts his eyes from the older man’s. Charlie sees that he’s been crying, but he gives him the illusion he needs and deliberately doesn’t notice it. It was a tough day for Arthur. For all of them. Hell, it’s been tough since Sarah went down that road she couldn’t come back from and where they couldn’t follow her.

Unless Tommy. When it was all too late, and in the worst possible way.

„He woke up, I could talk to him a little.” Charlie swallows hard. He doesn’t know how to tell Arthur what he just heard from Tommy. What he saw in his eyes, and what he alarmingly didn’t. „He’s not well, Arthur. He really isn’t well.” Charlie sighs and rubs the stubble on his chin. „Fuck, he was crying so hard he started hyperventilating, he couldn’t stop sobbing, couldn’t even breathe. The nurse had to give him something to calm him down. She said it was a full blown panic attack. He’s sleeping now, he will for a while but she said we shouldn’t leave him alone. That someone has to always sit with him and it will be easier for him if it’s one of us, not a nurse or whatever she meant, because he needs supervision in case...” He trails off before he can continue. „In case he tries to do something again. If he harms himself somehow.” Charlie is suddenly scared of his own words and he can imagine how frightening it must sound to his nephew.

Arthur looks shattered, the utter shock and pain on his face is nearly too much to bear. All he manages is a quiet „fuck” before he starts pacing the corridor like a caged animal who desperately wants to find the way out.

„I don’t think he could do anything now, even if he wanted to. He can barely keep his eyes open.” Those pale blue eyes Sarah was so proud of, but which seemed to lose all colour and turn into a cold grey since the day she died. The eyes that were filled with tears and a strange mix of an immeasurable amount of pain, betrayal and regret when the realization that he didn’t succeed, that he is still alive hit him like a lightning bolt.

„Fucking hell!” Arthur suddenly wails and crouches down by the wall, his hands pulling at his hair desperately. „My fucking baby brother!”

Charlie ignores the loud protest of his tired body and joins him on the floor. He places a firm but gentle hand on the back of the young man’s head to give him some kind of comfort. He isn’t sure how much of it he can find in himself to give to someone else. He selfishly wants to keep it all to himself, but he can’t. If he has any tools to make it easier for Arthur or the others, and most importantly, for Tommy, then he must seize the chance and do his best. They sit next to each other in silence for a while, the only sound is Arthur suppressed crying and loud sniffs.

„Where is Polly?” Charlie asks when his nephew finally quietens.

„She said she wants to talk to the doctor, then needs to call Mrs. Thorne to make sure John, Ada and baby Finn are okay. She wants to stick to the same bullshit she made up when we were waiting for the paramedics.” Arthur explains as he rubs his face to get rid of the last remnants of his tears. He looks frustrated.

„It will be better this way. We can spare them a lot of pain.” Charlie nods, as if he’s trying to convince himself just as well as Arthur.

„From what? The fucking truth? That our brother slashed his arms open to die in our fucking bathroom because he can’t bear the thought of a world without Mum? Don't you two think John and Ada will see his fucking scars?”

Arthur’s voice cracks again and for a moment Charlie thinks that Tommy isn’t the only one who lost the person who was the center of his universe. Arthur almost did it, too. Tonight.

„I’m the eldest. He’s my baby brother whom I swore to always protect, and I didn’t know... I was so lost in my own head I didn’t fucking see how broken he is. I let him down, Uncle Charlie. I failed in the most important thing in this fucking life and my little brother almost bled out like a fucking butchered stag.” He hits his fit to the floor. Charlie catches his hand and holds it firmly.

„Enough of this bullshit, you hear me? If you failed, we all failed. We’re all guilty at the same thing. We were all occupied with our own grief and didn’t see how much he struggled. But I won’t watch you lot spiraling one by one. I know it hurts. I know because I feel it too. Tommy is like a son to me, you know that very well. But we must pull ourselves together to help him, eh? I just promised him that we’ll be here for him, and we’re not angry. So stop punishing yourself like everyone in this fucking family bar the one who really should.”

He gives Arthur a couple minutes to let it all sink in before he asks what’s been bothering him since he was staring at Tommy’s motionless, ghost-like form, connected to IV’s, wires and surrounded by various medical equipments he doesn’t even know the name of for hours on end.

„Could you reach him?” He doesn’t need to elaborate who he means.

„No.” Arthur’s short answer sounds deeply hurt. „Polly’s been calling him since we were told that Tommy will survive. Dad doesn’t even know what happened. He just rejects her calls. I keep calling him too, every other minute. No answer.” He shows Charlie his phone. There are so many unanswered calls he can’t even count.

Although Arthur tries his best not to show it, Charlie can see it hurts him. He never understood the two Arthurs’ relationship but the disappointed expression of the junior makes him want to punch the old bastard in the face. In fact, it’s the least he wants to punch him for. The way he treated Sarah was unacceptable. How he treats Tommy is unforgivable.
So Charlie just hums in disapprovement before he carefully steers the topic away from the unworthy head of the Shelby household.

„One of us should go back to Tommy, but I want to listen to what Polly managed to get out of the doctor. I think you should hear that too. The nurse assured me he won’t wake up until the morning so we have a couple hours. Still, I wouldn’t want him to be alone for long. I just want to talk to your aunt and then we can decide who should be next. She might wants to go home to check on the kids.”

„I’ll go.” Arthur says hastily and Charlie knows there’s no room to argue.

To be honest, he isn’t sure it’s a good idea, given the young man’s own mental state at the moment, but honestly, he isn’t better either. Polly could barely manage to hold Arthur back from barging into Tommy’s hospital room when he was first brought in there, but he seemingly calmed down enough not to break down at the sight of Tommy’s poor condition. At least that's what Charlie hopes so.

So he just nods in agreement and they sink into a familiar silence. Life goes on around them, nurses and doctors rushing by, various voices melt into a muffled cacophony. They only raise their heads when the clicking sound of Polly’s high heels appear at the end of the corridor and hurriedly stumble to their feet. Charlie feels his stomach drop when Polly gets close enough to see the tense, perturbed look on her face. He knows the news she has to share won’t be what he and Arthur hoped to hear.

Chapter Text

„Could you get anything out of the doctor?” Charlie asks before Polly has a chance to speak.

„I did. Does seeing you here mean good or bad?” She answers with a question. Arthur hopes with all his will that they don’t start an asking match or something, because he already feels like losing his mind.

„Both. I’ll tell you after you tell us what you know.” Charlie nods into Arthur’s direction. „He wants to go back to Tommy as soon as possible. We just need to hear if there are any news, good or bad, as you said."

Aunt Polly suddenly drops down gracelessly on one of the chairs and digs into her handbag for a cigarette before realising she can’t smoke here.

„I spoke to the fucking doctor.” she sighs heavily. „He said that Tommy is lucky to be alive. They need to monitor him closely because of extensive blood loss and the hypovolemic shock, in case there are some heart or other organ damage. Like his liver or kidneys. He fucked up the arteries in his left arm so badly that they needed to use a vein graft, but they could fix the right one with resection and end-to-side repair. The doctor said the deeper cuts caused nerve damage in his forearm and wrist, and that we should prepare for his recovery to be harder and longer than we hope so.”

„Fucking hell.” Charlie murmurs quietly. Arthur doesn’t even know what to say. He just stares at Polly and tries to comprehend what she said.

„Exactly.” Polly lets out a weird, mirthless laugh. „And that’s not all. Since it’s obviously a suicide attempt, a physician must talk with Tommy when he wakes up. The doctor warned me that his commitment to a mental institute is highly inevitable. In his own case, of course.”

For some reason, Arthur never thought that it would be like this. He naively believed that they just need to stop the bleeding, replenish the blood Tommy lost and stitch his wounds up. Never thought of possible organ or nerve damage and artery replacement. Not like he has ever been thinking about suicide or suicide attempts, not until Mum couldn't hide how poorly she felt anymore. Not until she disappeared in the middle of the night, and they never saw her again. Or, in Tommy’s case, not alive.

How could he deal with all this shit on top of everything else that’s already been torturing him? He saw now that Tommy used physical pain to avert his mind from the darkness in his soul, but Arthur can’t bear to think that his brother only sentenced himself to more suffering with his desperate try to escape.

Arthur can’t listen to Aunt Polly and Uncle Charlie anymore, can’t hear how they discuss Tommy and make plans. He can’t do this, so he turns around and strides in the direction he thinks Tommy’s room is. He needs to be with his little brother or he’ll lose his mind too, like everyone in this fucking family.

----

Ever since their mother disappeared days before she was found dead in the cut, Arthur feels like the ground has been pulled out from under his feet. He naively thought that nothing worse can come when Charlie called Aunt Polly to tell the bad news. Then he added that somehow Tommy was there and saw Mum’s body, and everything became more terrible, though Arthur didn’t think it’s possible. His brother seemed catatonic when Charlie brought him home and fiercely hugged him goodbye before reluctantly leaving to take care of some things, and presumably turn Small Heath upside down to find their dad whom nobody saw or could reach on the phone. Just like now.

Tommy didn’t say anything to Polly, didn’t even answer Arthur’s uncharacteristically quiet and tactful questions. He just curled up in the corner of the sofa in his muddy clothes and stared into nothingness with empty, distant eyes for hours on end. He was absentmindedly scratching his wrist, so fiercely that it left angry red lines on his skin and eventually drew a little blood. It reminded Arthur of Mum, and this similarity scared him more than anything. He didn’t want Tommy to resemble their mum anymore.

He didn’t know what to say, he has never been a man of words after all. So instead of talking, he did the only thing he’s been always good at: stayed with his brother. He sat down on the rug next to Tommy’s curled up form, grabbed his hand without a word and held it tightly. When the worried Polly and their crying little siblings appeared in the door to share in their grief, he just shook his head sadly, asking for understanding and they knew without the slightest malice or questioning him. Everyone knew that nobody could reach Tommy in this state but Arthur. Maybe not even him.

It was past midnight when Arthur finally took a look at his brother and saw the silently falling tears on his face glistening in the moonlight. He held his hand a little more tightly, just on the verge of being painful, and when Tommy finally squeezed back, Arthur sat onto the sofa and draw him into a tight embrace. Tommy clung to him so desperately like he was the only thing holding him together, and maybe he was, at least in that moment, when the cracks were still so fresh and the pieces haven’t started to fall apart yet. So Arthur was holding him all night long, until his shirt was completely soaked in tears and Tommy’s body started shaking by the force of his eerily silent, violent sobbing. And Arthur was crying with him because Mum was dead, and his little brother saw her and it might broke him beyond repair. And Dad wasn’t there to hold them as he should have, wasn’t there to tell them what to do when the whole world lied in ruins and the night seemed endless. He was the eldest, and he wanted to be strong for his siblings, especially Tommy. He just didn’t know how. He didn’t know what to do, and if it would be enough.

It wasn’t. Nothing he did was enough, and now he’s sitting in a hospital room on an uncomfortable, creaky chair next to his little brother who cut his arms open to watch the life drain from his veins and leave this world behind. To leave Arthur alone.

He sighs heavily and leans forward to tenderly hold Tommy’s hand as he’s always done in the past eighteen years. But now everything is wrong because the hand between his palms is ice cold and motionless, as if Tommy was already dead, and the thought hurts so much that he needs to close his eyes because they suddenly sting with tears. He’s never seen his brother so terribly vulnerable and fragile since he was a tiny baby, and it’s even worse, because he doesn’t want to fight and live now, unlike when he was born. Tommy wanted to die this time.

Arthur was shocked by the sight when he stepped into the room for the first time after Polly filled him and Uncle Charlie in about what the doctor said to her. It still hurts to see all the beeping machines surrounding the bed, all those wires and tubes attached to Tommy. His eyes wander to the IV stand with bags of fluids and the next round of blood transfusion, the sight of which makes his stomach turn. Blood never bothered him, until it was pouring out of his brother. Until it had to be given to him to keep him alive. He just can’t bear looking at it right now.

Polly said earlier that one of the nurses told her that if they didn’t find him in time, if she or Uncle Charlie hesitated a minute longer, Tommy would be dead. He nearly died anyway, his heart stopped twice, once in the ambulance and once here, while they were trying to fix the damage he’s done to his arms. Arthur doesn’t want to think about it, doesn’t want to imagine his little brother’s precious heart motionless and life leaving his body. Only thinking about it is enough to make him want to punch something or someone and scream until he has no voice left.

But Tommy still looks dead now. He is white as a sheet, his cheeks seem alarmingly hollow, there’s a nasal cannula underneath his nose and the dark circles under his eyes are more prominent than ever. Arthur bitterly thinks that at least he can sleep now, something he hasn’t done since they lost Mum. Nobody knows that better than Arthur, except maybe Polly. When it became evident that Tommy is completely unable to have even a short slumber without waking up in terror, crying or panicking, Arthur was the one who suggested to stay with him for the long, hopeless nights.

He remembers holding Tommy’s hand so many times when he couldn’t sleep as a kid. His little brother often climbed into Arthur’s bed instead of searching for Mum and risking their father’s anger when he had a nightmare or didn’t feel well. When they were hiking in the forest one summer and Mum warned him to hold Tommy’s hand because he was still so small, or when they went to school on their own for the first time and needed to be careful when they crossed the road. When their parents were shouting and screaming so loud in the middle of the night that it woke them up and Tommy went to Arthur’s room for comfort. When Dad beat Tommy and he held his hand in encouragement while his injuries were treated. When Mum were cuddling with them in bed on weekends if Dad was out of town. When their little siblings were born and they were waiting anxiously to see them. But weirdly, his most vivid memory is still of baby Tommy’s teeny little hand, as he instinctively grasped his big brother’s finger the first time Arthur was allowed to stroke his soft, pink palm.

From that moment, he wanted to be someone Tommy could always turn to and hold onto when he needed help, whether he admitted it or not. And he wasn’t there yesterday, despite the unbreakable bond between their souls. He was blind to see his little brother's suffering and too deaf to hear his silent screams that somehow were louder than anything words could have said. And yet he – no, all of them - let him sink into the depth that dragged Mum from them, and who knows if he can emerge from the dark waters pulling him down.

Arthur swore to always protect Tommy and take care of him the day he became his proud big brother. Since then, he has done everything he can to keep that promise, but he has failed in the most important and worst possible moment.

He rests his head on their clasped hands and something ugly and heavy erupts from him with muffled sobs. He has no idea how much time passes when suddenly he feels a faint tremor running through Tommy’s ice cold fingers. He quickly withdraws his hand in fear of causing him pain. At the same moment, he hears a soft, barely audible whimper.

„Tommy?” He asks hopefully, trying to swallow down his tears to hide them. Tommy’s eyes are still closed, but Arthur keeps his gaze fixed on his sickly pale face. „Are you awake?”

Tommy moans quietly again, his long eyelashes are fluttering like wings of a butterfly.

„Please, little brother!” Arthur pleads. „Can you look at me?”

A huge relief washes over him when he sees a sliver of blue before Tommy finally forces his tired eyes open.

„Thank goodness you’re awake. Don’t worry, everything will be okay. I’m here for you, as I always should have been. I’m sorry I didn’t help you when you needed me, Tom. But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Arthur wants to hold his brother tight and never let him go, but suddenly he’s afraid to touch him. Especially when he sees a flash of discomfort on his face.

„Oh, fuck.” Arthur mutters nervously. „ Are you in pain, Tommy? What should I do? Shall I call a nurse or someone?”

Their teary eyes finally meet and Tommy weakly shakes his head.

„No." His voice is barely above a whisper when he finally answers. "Can you just hold my hand?”

„Of course, Tommy. I’ll hold your hand as long as you want me. As we have always done.”

Chapter Text

Polly absentmindedly drums her fingers on the windowsill as she stares out at the slowly rising sun with her phone held to her ear. It takes her by surprise when her call is finally answered after ringing her brother for minutes without a break.

"What the fuck do you want now, Polly?" Arthur Sr. grumbles and she can hear he's still drunk. Or already, one can never know with him.

"Good to hear from you, my dear brother. After fourteen fucking hours of calling you in vain both from my phone and Arthur's." Polly can't keep the venom out of her voice. She feels like she's one second from exploding. "I thought it might peek your interest to hear that your son is in the fucking hospital."

"Which one?" Arthur Sr. sounds nonchalant. His speech is slurred, so he probably was drinking all night long. Polly wants to slap his face, strangle him, shot him. Anything to hurt him and make him see what he’s done to his family.

"What do you think, idiot?" She snaps impatiently. She doesn’t have time for this, either any energy after the long night that was filled with worrying and trying to take control of things when everything was crumbling down. "It's Tommy. Isn’t that obvious? He cut his arms after the funeral, very badly. Intentionally, I mean, in case you’re too stupid to find out yourself. His life was hanging by a thread when Charlie found him and..."

Arthur Sr. suddenly cuts in at her words.

"Why the hell is that bloke still lurking around my house? His loony bitch is dead, it's time to stay the fuck away from my kids."

"You are mental, Arthur!” She loses all her hardly saved patience. „First of all, how dare you talk like that about your deceased wife, the mother of your five children? I can't believe you're still about this bullshit. More importantly, are you deaf, stupid or both? I just told you that your eighteen years old son intended to die yesterday and he almost succeeded. We would have another funeral to plan if 'that bloke' didn't barge the door and know what to do with the bleeding until the paramedics arrived. Can your pathetic, drunk brain comprehend that? Tommy almost died. His heart stopped and we should be grateful they could bring him back."

Arthur snorts. "Well I hope Strong will pay for that door at least."

"Go and fuck your door you fucking bastard!" Polly yells and cuts the call. She feels eyes burning at her back but couldn’t care less what others think of her at the moment. She drops her phone at her bag angrily and it falls to pieces after sliding down to the floor. "Damn it." She mutters and crouches down to collect its discarded pieces.

Suddenly, there’s a rough but reassuring hand on her back. She looks up from her position on the floor and doesn’t understand why the man next to her seems so blurry, until she realizes her eyes are filled with angry tears.

„Hey, Polly, are you okay?” It’s Charlie Strong, and Polly is irrationally thankful for his presence. She nods hastily and turns back to her unlucky phone.

”Let me help.” He says and takes everything out of her hands to carefully examine it. It only takes a moment for him and Polly’s phone looks intact again, despite a long crack on the screen.

She wishes Charlie took all responsibility from her and make it right. She’s so tired of managing a family that isn’t hers in the first place. There’s so much to do. She wants to be here when the physician talks to Tommy, probably in the afternoon, as she was told, but first she needs to go home, thank Irene Thorne for her help, comfort the children, take care of the baby. Everything must be kept together, they can’t afford to fall apart more than this.

She looks at the phone and wishes it was that easy to fix what is broken in Tommy as well. Even if the cracks remained.

„Did you talk to your brother?” Charlie asks quietly as he pulls Polly to her feet and firmly but kindly leads her to the empty chairs by the large windows.

„I did.” She sighs heavily. „Useless as ever. He was more interested in your part in this mess than in his son’s condition. Didn’t even ask anything about him.”

„Bastard.” Charlie mutters and leans his back to the wall. He exhaustedly blinks at the ceiling a few times before speaking again. „Do you want me to go and find him? I’m sure he must be in one of the pubs.”

„For what?” Polly scoffs. „To give a drunken lecture about something he remembers and misinterprets from the Bible or to punch you in the face?”

„Don’t know. I don't want him near Tommy, but maybe he would want him here. He just lost his mother. His father is all he has now. Not that Arthur Sr. deserves him.”

„No.” Polly says sternly and looks at him with fire in her dark eyes. „He has you, and me and his siblings. If he needs to lean on a father figure, he’ll find that in you, not in his sorry excuse of a father. I’m not blind, Charlie. I see how much you care about the boy. You love all of them, but Tommy is special.

„Aye.” Charlie sighs deeply and turns away before he elaborates. „He’s like Sarah, you know? I look at him and see her. I hear her in his words. But he’s so much more than that. He’s Tommy.” He shrugs. „And be damned if I let him drown in the same darkness that swallowed his mother and took her away from us.”

----

Tommy doesn’t want to be here. He can’t believe how things could go so wrong that he ended here instead of sinking into sweet oblivion, as he was supposed to. Everything feels like a nightmare ever since he woke up. Even worse than before, when he thought he couldn’t bear to suffer through one more day. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Everything should have ended when he closed his eyes in the bathroom to fall into the arms of Mum and let her lull into a sweet, dreamless sleep. He remembers reading somewhere that death is the brother of sleep. It looks like he’s been betrayed by them both.

He feels like there’s a heavy weight on his chest that doesn’t let him breathe. Is that what Mum felt when she…

He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to live. He does not deserve to live.

It makes him flinch when the door suddenly opens. Tommy doesn’t know what or whom he expects but his disappointments grows heavier with every time it happens.

"Good morning, Thomas! It's nice to see you awake.” A middle aged nurse says in a kind and calm voice as she comes in. "I’m Nurse Evans, I came to check your vital signs.”Tommy could not care less. The nurse nods in Arthur's direction who is still holding Tommy's hand. „Oh, and I assume he’s your brother."

„I’m Arthur.” The said brother murmurs, and he looks like he doesn’t know what to say or do.

Tommy doesn't say anything either, doesn’t care what she does around or with him. His only reaction is a violent shiver that runs through him when the nurse lowers his blanket.

"You poor thing, I let you freeze when we could easily help with that. I'll be back in a minute with something that will make you feel better in an instant." She rushes out the door. Arthur stares after her for a long moment.

"Why is she so... cheerful?" He raises his eyebrows and looks at Tommy, but there's no answer. His brother keeps his eyes on their connected hands. Arthur sighs and gently strokes Tommy's knuckles with his thumb.

Somehow it feels terribly wrong. Everything is wrong, distant and out of place, but his hands feel like they are not his hands anymore. There was a bone deep, sharp throbbing in parts of his arms that made him bit his lips to prevent himself from crying out loud until another annoyingly happy nurse came to give him something for the pain. But at the same time, there’s this weird, alarming numbness that makes him look at his and Arthur’s entwined hands because he knows his brother’s grounding touch very well, he craves it, but it just doesn’t feel right. He needs to remind himself again and again that Arthur is still holding his hand. His entire body is so very cold and his hands look like they’re dead, hidden in bandages and a strange looking splint. He tried to move them a few times but they refuse to do what they’re supposed to do. All he could manage was a twitching, painful movement with the fingers of his right hand. Is it possible that parts of him are dead? He doesn’t know if he feels like this because of the meds or he’s just officially too damaged to function properly.

He deserves the pain for not doing it right. Waking up in a damn hospital wasn’t part of his plan, so he hasn’t considered what would happen if he entirely fucked up his arms. He knows he did, though nobody says him anything that matters. They only say kind and reassuring things.

The happy nurse comes back within a minute, this time carrying a neatly folded blanket.

"A freshly warmed blanket." She announces and spreads it over Tommy, carefully tucking it around his shoulders. Whether he wants it or not, Tommy lets out a relieved sigh when he feels the warmth encircling his shivering body. He doesn’t listen to anything else she says. All he wants is to melt into this warm, comforting feeling and disappear from the rest of the world forever.

----

„Is… Is Dad here?” Tommy carefully avoids Arthur’s gaze, his eyes are kept on his left hand, the one he thinks has forgotten to come back to life. He hates to hear the smallest glimpse of hope creeping into his voice. He learnt long ago that Dad doesn’t care about him. He never loved him. Why would nearly dying change anything? He didn’t expect it, after all. Shouldn’t even be here anymore. And yet, he can’t keep himself from asking it.

„No, Tommy.” Arthur sighs tiredly and rakes through his hair with both hands before gripping Tommy’s numb fingers again. „He doesn’t even know what happened. We couldn’t reach him yet, despite trying to call many times.”

„It doesn’t matter.” Tommy mumbles in a small voice and turns his head away. „He wouldn’t come anyway.” He never does. He didn’t come when Mum got lost in her head, neither when she went away to die. When she stepped into the water until it closed above her head and her beautiful raven black hair was floating around her face like seaweed. When life disappeared from her eyes forever and she was gone, all alone, without anyone to hold her hand. When she was laying in the canal for two days, abandoned and forgotten, before her body returned for Tommy, to take him with her. When she…

„Don’t say that.” Arthur’s voice interrupts his trail of thoughts, and he’s grateful for it. He doesn’t want to think of Mum. Doesn’t want to think at all. „I’m sure he’ll be here the minute he finds out what happened.” Arthur protests and lightly rubs his upper arm. His hand is so warm Tommy wishes he could absorb it. He isn’t sure which one of them his brother tries to convince when he continues. „He’s not the best dad, especially not to you, but he loves us, I know he does, in his own way. Just… He just doesn’t know how to show it.”

How can Arthur be so naive? Or is it blindness? Dad never loved him. He never will.

„Maybe he loves you. Not me.” Weird that it still hurts after all these years.

„Don’t do this to yourself, Tommy. He would come if he knew.”

„He knows,” Tommy says blankly. „I called him.”

„You did what?” Arthur sounds like he can’t believe his ears. „When?”

„Before…” He trails off then hesitantly indicates to his arms with a small movement of his head. He can’t talk about what he did. It’s too shameful. Why could he not do it right? Just this one thing. „Before this. He didn’t fucking care.”

He was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, playing with the small pack of razor blades in his left hand. For once, he dialed Dad’s number without hesitation. He didn’t know what he was waiting for. Why did he call him at all? Would it have mattered if Dad had picked up the phone? Would it have changed anything if he had said he loved Tommy? Just once in his life? He will never know. He was staring at the phone, clutching it more and more tightly, waiting for a sign that never came. Dad rejected his call, as he rejected him so many times since he was born. It was just one more occasion. Only that it had mattered for once. For the last time.

It should have been the last time. He shouldn’t have to deal with the consequences. He never considered what he would do after.
There shouldn’t have been after.
He never wanted this.
He never wanted this.
He doesn’t want this.

„But… but why did you not reach for us, Tommy? We were downstairs in the goddamn kitchen. Uncle Charlie was there. We would have helped you through whatever you felt. I would have held you all fucking night long if you had wanted to.”

Arthur doesn’t understand. Tommy sees he is trying hard, that he forces himself to stop before it would sound like he blames him. He knows he’s angry at him. They all are. That much he knows. They just don’t want him to see it. He already wishes they stopped walking on eggshells around him. Just rip off the Band-Aid and let the wound breathe. Let it bleed until there’s nothing left. Let everything flow away with the crimson flood of pain.

”Remember when we were kids?” Arthur asks suddenly with a flicker of hope in his voice. Tommy just stares at him without saying anything. He’s so tired, and he has no idea where this conversation is going. He’s not sure he cares but he loves his brother and doesn’t want to disappoint him even more, so he listens. „When we were playing and pretending we’re knights fighting dragons? I would still stand between you and every fucking dragon, brother. I would slay them all alone if it meant I could protect you from being hurt.”

It’s too late. He’s already broken.

„You can’t.” Tommy whispers with tears pricking his eyes. Why does he always need to cry these days? He hates it. „Not now. It’s worthless.”

„But I will.” Arthur insists. „Whether you want it or not, Tommy, I won’t let you follow Mum. I love you, and I need you, and our little siblings need you too. What would they do with a dumb big brother like me? I can't imagine living in a world without you. I don’t even want the world to exist without you.” His voice cracks and he rubs his eyes hastily. „I know you’ve been through hell, brother. I know you’re still there. But I won’t let you go there alone. I’ll drag you back with my own two hands or descend with you, but you’re not going anywhere without me. Never again.”

Chapter Text

Charlie lightly knocks on the door before he opens it to peek into the hospital room he’s already too familiar with. Arthur nods at him and points to his brother’s dozing figure in bed without a word. Tommy’s head is tilted on his shoulder, his hair is mussed and he looks so innocent that it warms Charlie’s heart for a moment. The boy needs a lot of sleep after more than a week of restless nights. His relief doesn’t last long, since Tommy's obviously sickly appearance reminds him that it’s most likely because of blood loss, nearly dying or the medication they give him.

„I’ll drive Polly home, she wants to see how your siblings are. I need to get changed, too, don’t want to look like a butcher any longer.” Charlie whispers and looks at his rolled up sleeves with a frown. They are covered in blood up until his elbows. „Your aunt is very worried about John and Ada. They must be upset after yesterday.”

„Yeah. I know.” Arthur rubs his eyes tiredly. His other hand is still holding Tommy’s right. „John sent me a few messages when Tommy was still in the operating room and we didn’t know for sure if he would make it or not. I just told him to fuck off and go to sleep. Later I wrote that he would be fine soon, though it felt like a lie. It still does because it’s a fucking lie indeed.”

„He will be fine, I promise you. We won’t let him down ever again.” Charlie pats Arthur’s back and pulls a chair next to him to sit down.

„But what if he won’t? We didn’t want to let it happen to Mum either. And where is she now? Fucking dead. What will we do if he can never get better, Uncle Charlie?”

„Don’t think about that, lad.” He says firmly. „We’ll fight for and with him. We’ll drag him out of the fucking mud together.” Charlie wishes he would be as convinced as he tries to seem. He doesn’t know if Tommy can ever be the same but he’s determined to try everything in his power to get him back.

„I would never give up on him, I told him that. I’ve been protecting him all his life and yet I don’t fucking know what to do now.” Arthur strokes his brother’s hair, his touch is so light it’s almost unnoticeable. „But I want to do something to make him better. I would go to hell and back again if it meant saving him. Just don’t know how to save him from himself.”

Before Charlie could answer, the sound of a sharp breath draws their attention to the bed. Tommy isn’t peaceful anymore, he’s thrashing and whimpering in the claws of a nightmare and the heart monitor goes haywire. Arthur quickly sits on the edge of the bed and carefully but tightly wraps his arms around him right when a suppressed cry erupts from his chest.

„Wake up, Tommy! It’s just a dream. It’s not real. Whatever you see is not real.” He says calmly, trying hard to hide the quivering of his voice. He kisses the top of his brother’s head and starts to cradle him slowly and more gently than anyone would think him capable of. Tommy wakes up with a jolt and buries his face in Arthur’s shirt as a stifled sob tears from his chest.

Charlie leans closer and grabs his hand that Arthur let go of.

„You’re not by the canal, Tommy. Is that what you dream of? You’re not there. You’re in the hospital to get better.” Charlie’s quiet voice is urgent and calming at the same time. He places his other hand on Tommy’s back as Arthur is holding him tight. „Your mother isn’t lost anymore. The water gave her back to us and we found her. She’s in peace now.”

But Tommy can’t stop shaking and his breathing stays rapid and shallow. Arthur looks up at Charlie and asks if they should call someone, his voice is suddenly small because he doesn’t know how to help his little brother.

„Tommy, listen to me, please. You’re here with us. You’re not alone. Can you feel your brother’s arms around you? It’s Arthur, Tommy. He’s alive, and so are you.” Charlie isn’t sure if he can really see a small nod or he just imagines it but he hopes that Tommy is listening. „Can you feel his breathing? I want you to follow that, son. Just try to take a deep breath when he does, then exhale it with him.”

He raises an eyebrow at Arthur as if ordering him to do as he’s told. Charlie isn’t sure the boy can calm down enough himself to make it work, but there’s nothing that would make him separate the brothers now if their closeness is what Tommy visibly tries to seek comfort in.

To his wonder, it seems to work. His hand is hovering above the nurse call button when Tommy makes a terrible and breathless choking sound at first but eventually he’s able to follow Arthur’s lead and breathe normally. He looks absolutely worn out by then, slumped against his brother’s chest with closed eyes, tears still glistening on his long eyelashes. Arthur is almost equally overwhelmed, though he tries hard to hide it and provide the safety and tranquility Tommy needs.

„You did it well and came back to us.” Charlie reassures Tommy and they just sit there for a while, trying to collect themselves. He slowly withdraws his hand and reaches for a cup of water on the nightstand. „Do you think you can drink a little water, Tommy? It would make you feel better.”

Relief washes over him when Tommy nods, though he doesn’t show any sign of willing to emerge from the embrace. Arthur slowly moves away a bit and cups his face between his hands. „There you are, little brother. Uncle Charlie will help you drink a bit, okay?”

Tommy seems confused for a moment before he glances at his lap and takes in the sight of his bandaged arms and motionless hands. He swallows hard and shakes his head. „I don’t want to.”

Charlie takes the reins before Arthur could say anything. „You need to drink, Tommy. Your arms need time to heal before you can hold something safely by yourself. So you have to accept help from us in the meantime with some things. There’s nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about it.”

But that’s exactly what they see on Tommy’s face as Charlie holds the cup with a straw for him. He only takes a few small sips before muttering a barely audible thanks and turning his face away.

„It will get better, Tommy.” Arthur encourages him with forced happiness. „You’ll be better, you'll see.”

„We will always be there for you. Just don’t shut us out, okay?” Charlie adds, then stands up and stretches with a long, tired sigh. „I need to arrange some things with your aunt, but we’ll be back in the afternoon. Do you want me to bring you anything from home?” He asks Tommy, who seems to hesitate for a second before he shakes his head. „Alright, then. I’ll see you later, boys.”

Charlie quickly kisses Tommy’s head and pats Arthur on the shoulder before leaving. Usually they aren’t so affectionate since the boys grew up, unlike when they were little and Tommy was practically glued to his side. But now it just came without a second thought. They nearly lost Tommy, he won’t keep himself from expressing his love for some stupid manly image.

As Charlie closes the door behind him, he’s met with Nurse Evans who greets him with a warm smile.

„Are you leaving, Mr. Shelby? I just brought Thomas something light but nutritious to eat.”

„Oh, no. No, I’m not his dad. I’m his uncle. Charlie Strong.” He extends his hand before realizing the nurse is occupied with the tray. He nervously wipes his palm on his trousers. „Well, not a real uncle, just a friend of his mother. But he’s like a son to me.”

„Excuse me, I must have misunderstood something.” She looks slightly embarrassed before she regains her composure. „Is there anyone with him?”

„Yes, his brother, Arthur. But Tommy’s not really well. I guess he just had another panic attack after waking up from a nightmare. The lad can’t fucking sleep an hour since his mother died.”

„My condolences, Mr. Strong. I didn’t know about his mother, though it explains some things about his behavior and unfortunate decisions.”

„I guess it does.” Charlie murmurs and gets so lost in his thoughts, in the memories of the past twelve day that he barely notices when the nurse says goodbye and enters the room. He’s halfway to the elevators when he hears the sound of familiar steps.

„Wait, Uncle Charlie!” Arthur calls after him.

„What is it, Arthur?” He already feels his stomach turn. „Is something wrong with Tommy?”

„No, the nurse is examining him. He was embarrassed, so she asked me to step outside for a while. I just wanted to ask…” He hesitates for a moment before continuing. „How did you know?”

„Know what?”

„When Tommy woke up but wasn’t really here yet. How did you know what to say? How did you know where he was in his fucking nightmare?”

„I don’t know, Arthur. I guess I figured it out, just like you. What else could haunt him every night, eh? Besides… that’s what I’ve been seeing for a while, too.” Charlie admits with a heavy heart.

„And now? Did it stop?” Arthur looks hopeful, as if he could offer some magic solution to help his brother.

„Now I see Tommy.” He says with a sad little smile.

----

Arthur is persistently trying to convince Tommy to accept his offer to help him eat when they hear a muffled conversation in front of the closed door. Arthur drops the sandwich back to the plate in surprise. Tommy’s stomach is already in a tight knot.

"Excuse me, Nurse!" It's Dad's voice. How can he be here? Why is he here? "I'm looking for Thomas Shelby. Am I at the right floor?"

„Mr. Shelby, aren’t you?” It’s the cheerful nurse from earlier. „You're exactly where you're supposed to be. It's Thomas' room over there. I immediately recognized you, his brother looks a lot like you. I already made a mistake today with their uncle but you two couldn’t be mistaken.”

Dad laughs jovially but Tommy can hear the bitterness underneath the surface. His words sting when he answers her.

„Yes, Arthur is like me. On the other hand, Thomas is exactly like his mother. The same in every sense of the word.”

„I heard she passed away recently. I'm so sorry, Mr. Shelby. What a horrible loss." There's a short pause, she must be waiting for an answer she'll never get from Dad. "Well, I don’t want to keep you away from your sons any longer. I’m sure we’ll often see each other in the future until our Thomas gets better. You must be terribly worried.” Nurse Evans’ voice sounds more distant, she must be getting further away.

Tommy flinches when the door suddenly opens, even if he anticipated it. Dad shuts it quickly and turns to face them. Silence has never been more deafening than in that moment. Tommy keeps his eyes somewhere around his fathers middle, he doesn’t dare to look at him. He hasn’t been afraid of him for a long time, not really, or rather has not cared what he said or done. But now he’s scared of what he would see on his face. Dismissal, hate, disappointment – they’re all too familiar to him. And yet, there is still a little ray of hope hidden somewhere deep inside his heart he hasn’t even known about. It fills him with painful longing for something he never had.

What if Dad came because he cares? What if he loves him? Just a little bit. Not enough to regret the past eighteen years, just to not want him to die. Would that change anything? He doesn’t think so, but it would feel so nice. He would really like to know.

„Arthur, get out.” Dad snaps, and there’s no warmth or worry in his voice, unlike everyone else. No, then. „Right now.”

Arthur swallows hard and his eyes nervously dart between Tommy and their father. He doesn’t move though, and his grip tightens around his brother’s fingers as if he refused to let go of him. Tommy wishes he could feel it properly, even if it would hurt. He needs something to ground him. Pain would be the best.

„No.” Arthur says quietly, but somehow this one word echoes in the small room like a loud scream. It is followed by deafening silence. The only sound is the beeping of the machine that keeps track of Tommy’s heartbeat. He already hears it’s quicker and more erratic then a minute ago. Not that he cares.

„No?” Dad asks back and he sounds dangerous and cold. Tommy wishes Arthur stuck to his decision. He doesn’t want to be left alone with Dad now. He feels trapped, like a captured animal that’s been left on display in a cage with nowhere to hide. „Since when are you so disobedient, my dearest son? I thought that’s the role of your useless brother.”

This is it. The first blow. Tommy knows there’s much to come but that doesn’t make it less painful to hear. How can it hurt after such a long time? How can it still matter?

„I’m not leaving Tommy alone. Not with you, Dad. „Arthur’s voice cracks. „Not now.”

„What a shame. What a terrible shame that Thomas managed to turn you against me, my son. It hurts me to see you let yourself be manipulated so easily. I thought you’re smarter than that. But you’ve always had a soft heart for your siblings. Too soft, I dare say. Such a shame they don’t deserve it.” Dad sounds colder than ever before. Or is it because Tommy’s heart is frozen and he craves for anything to warm it? „Especially this one.”

Tommy can feel his face burning in shame but at the same time, he breaks out in a cold sweat.

Dad comes closer and stands next to the bed, looking down at him with disdain. As he has always done, ever since the cold winter night when Tommy was born, nothing like the strong and sturdy boy Dad was expecting him to be. No, he was just a tiny, weak little thing who was already a great disappointment before he could have cried for the first time.

„I’m ashamed of you, Thomas.” He sneers, deaf or ignorant to Arthur’s desperate pleas when he calls his name to make him stop before things start crumbling down and the fragile ruins of what’s left of Tommy fall apart and die without a sound.

Tommy doesn’t hear Arthur. He knows he’s there somewhere in his peripheral vision, his voice floats in the distance but he doesn’t understand his words. Dad is all that exists, and the hate he radiates towards him.

„You brought nothing but disgrace to our family. How am I supposed to walk on the streets of Birmingham with pride, knowing what you’ve done? And it’s not just my knowledge, people will know about it everywhere. Shameful things like this don’t stay secret for long. How will I face anyone at the church after your sin? ’Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you? If anyone destroys God’s temple, God will destroy him. For God’s temple is holy, and you are that temple.’ That’s what the Bible says about suicide. And do you know what I say?”

Tommy shakes his head weakly. He can’t remember. He knows Dad ranted about it when Mum was found but everything is a blur and he doesn’t even want to remember.

„I say it’s weakness. It’s pathetic like your whole fucking existence, Thomas. I know you only did it for attention. Why do you want everything to be always about you? Now you got what you wanted.” He lifts Tommy’s limp left arm from the pillow that keeps it elevated, as if he wanted to examine it. Tommy can’t feel much when he touches his palm but then Dad’s cruel grip wanders to his wrist and forearm and increases the pressure, and he feels a burning pain radiating from under the numbness.

„Stop it, Dad! Please, you will hurt him more!” Suddenly Arthur’s fingers are on Dad’s hand, desperately trying to pry them away from him. Dad shakes Arthur off and hits him in the face with his other hand, but finally lets go of Tommy. He can’t keep his arm upright and it falls back to the bed, hitting the bed rail. He grits his teeth not to make a sound but he can’t help it and a painful whimper escapes him.

„Not much riding in the future with those crippled arms, I guess.” Dad says mockingly.

He finally lifts his gaze at Dad who looks down at him with an evil grin, like a demon from his nightmares. All Tommy wants to hear from him is why he didn’t answer his phone that night. But the thing is, Dad doesn’t even see the significance of his rejection. And he’s here to repeat it.

„Mummy’s little boy, aren’t you? You’ve always been her spitting image. And now it turned out you're just as lunatic as her. But at least the bitch finished the job and drowned herself. You couldn’t even manage that. Piteous. How hard can it be to finish yourself? I guarantee you’ll be locked in an asylum with the other crazy fuckers for the rest of your days. I don’t need this shit. You should have died if you weren’t this fucked up. Nobody would miss you.”

Tommy’s ears are ringing and he feels terribly dizzy. It’s okay, at least he doesn’t have to listen to Dad anymore. His chest is tight and heavy and he can barely breathe. It must have been what Mum felt when she was drowning.

I don’t need this shit.

You should have died. You should have died. You should have died.

Nobody would miss you.

His vision is blurry but he thinks he sees Arthur trying to drag Dad away and being hit in the face. It should be him, it’s always him who gets beaten. Is Arthur scrambling to his feet and running to the door to tear it open or is it only a dream?
Don’t go away, he wants to say but can’t. Don’t go. He doesn’t want Arthur to leave him alone.

His heart is pounding as if there was a monster inside his rib cage that wants to break out. Maybe there is. Is that why Dad hates him so much?

He wishes Arthur didn't leave him alone.

Nobody would miss you.

Nobody would miss you.

You should have died.

Chapter Text

Somehow the familiarity of the house on Watery Lane doesn’t feel right. Though nothing has changed on the surface, Polly knows that everything is different than two weeks ago. Or just yesterday morning, when they all hoped that things can be as close to normal as possible after Sarah’s funeral. It gave her a purpose: make sure that the children get through the funeral and things will be better. She did, she was there to support them, but it wasn’t enough. Not for Tommy.

Polly has always been close to his brother’s family. She’s seen that the five children got different versions of their parents. Tommy got the best of his mother and the worst of his father. With his mother’s death, he lost the only parent who ever showed him love. But it didn’t matter in the end, when she decided to throw her life away. All her love was not enough to stop her from walking into the canal and her favourite son from the same fate she suffered. When she died, the best of Tommy died with her, and these two tragedies put an unbearable weight on the family.

She can’t deny any longer that she’s angry. She’s angry at Sarah for giving up and she’s angry at Tommy for wanting to follow her. He’s only eighteen years old, an entire life is ahead of him and he has more possibilities than Arthur ever will. He could reach everything he wants with his bright mind and build a great future for himself, shouldn’t work in a factory or a pub like his brother. Polly loves him, she loves all of them, but giving up is something she simply can’t accept. The Shelbys never give up. They push through the dirt and the mud and fight their way to the surface when they’re thrown into the cut. They don’t drown themselves in it. They don’t cut themselves and wait until they bleed out. They don’t die before their time.

She only returns from her trail of thoughts when she’s interrupted by Charlie’s quiet voice. „I’ll get some stuff for Tommy while you speak with the kids.”

Polly nods and follows him with her eyes as he slowly walks up the creaking stairs. They stopped at Charlie’s yard so he could get changed from those horrifying bloodstained clothes, but it doesn’t make him look less worn out. For once, he looks much older than his age.

She finds Ada and John in the living room. They are curled up on the couch, Ada is buried in a book while her brother is playing something on his phone. They both look up at the sound of her shoes clicking.

„Aunt Polly!” Ada immediately gets up and runs to her side. Polly returns her embrace before she withdraws. „How is Tommy?” She looks around nervously like she expects him to follow their aunt.

„He’ll be fine.” .” He’s not, and she doesn’t know what to do. „You don’t have to worry, sweetheart.”

„Will he die too?” John asks bluntly and it sends a shiver down her spine.

„Shut up, John!” Ada screams with tears in her eyes before Polly could say anything. „Don’t say things like that!”

„Stop this, both of you!” Polly scolds them. It shouldn’t happen. These children shouldn’t worry for their brother’s life. Tommy should be home with his siblings, uninjured and safe. „Of course Thomas won’t die. He has to stay in the hospital for a while but he will recover.”

„Can we visit him?” Ada looks at her with big, tearful eyes.

„Not yet, Ada. You can come with me a few days later, when he feels better. We need to let him rest.”

„Why?” Polly can see that John will push it until he gets what he wants. „What happened to him? You only said he got injured. I sent messages to Arthur all night but he told me to shut up and go to sleep. Mrs. Thorne didn’t let us go to the bathroom for a while and she cleaned everything. She didn’t tell us anything either when you called her in the morning. Dad bustled into the house not long after that, went upstairs and disappeared again without telling a word. I want to know what happened.”

Polly wishes for the hundredth time since Sarah walked out the door and never came back alive that there was someone to take the responsibility from her shoulders.

„He fell in the bathroom and injured his arms badly. Is this answer satisfying enough?” She doesn’t intend to but her voice is bitter.

John still looks at her suspiciously but lets go of the topic for now when Irene Thorne comes into the room with Finn.

Polly sighs in relief and extends her arms to hold the baby. She’s grateful he’s too small to understand what’s going on or demand answers she can’t give him without causing more trauma. She wants to talk with Irene somewhere out of John and Ada’s earshot, so she catches her eyes and nods in the direction of the kitchen, hoping that they won’t sneak out to hear what else she has to say.

„Thank you for taking care of them, Irene!” She whispers. „I’m so sorry you had to see the bathroom, last evening was a chaos and I didn’t even think before I called you. I should have cleaned it myself.

„You had better things to worry about. I cleaned the bathtub and the floor before the children saw anything. I can’t say that it wasn’t shocking, but I would never blame you for forgetting about it.” Irene looks uncomfortable and shaken, though she tries to hide it. „Was it… Was all that blood Tommy’s?”

Polly doesn’t let her annoyance show but she thinks Irene is nonsensical. What else would it be? They clearly haven’t killed anyone in their own fucking bathroom on the same day when Tommy tried to do it to himself. But Irene is her friend and the best help she could dream of. She can’t let her worse part show instead of gratitude. So she nods with forced patience.

„Is he okay? I mean, as okay as he can be, given the circumstances.”

„He lives. That’s the most and best I can tell.” Polly says with a heavy heart. She feels like she spoke with an entire army of doctors and nurses since the paramedics arrived. But she hasn’t talked to Tommy himself. Hasn’t even seen him after he woke up. She can’t explain or understand why everything else seemed more urgent. Perhaps she is afraid to face her own failure that would reflect in Tommy’s eyes.

„What a shame to see so many tragedies strike your family, Polly.” Irene’s voice is careful and sympathetic. „First Sarah, and now that sweet, beautiful boy…”

„He didn’t die!” Polly snaps, before she could remind herself to calm down. „I’m sorry. It was a long night and we are all anxious.”

„Of course you are. I don’t blame you for your frustration and worry. I am concerned too. So is my Freddie. I didn’t tell him anything specifically but he knows something happened to Tommy.”

Finn starts mewling as if he could sense the tension. Polly starts bouncing him before she answers. At least one of the kids should be happy.

„I’m sure he will know by Monday. Everyone could see the ambulance on the street. Lizzie Stark’s mother was around the corner when they took Tommy out of the house. People love to gossip, and they love to gossip about the Gypsy scum even more. Especially after the rumors about Sarah’s death.” She sighs, and they fall into a heavy silence.

----

Charlie stands in the doorway of Tommy’s room and one glance is enough to see there’s something wrong with it. It looks eerily tidy and clean, like a hotel room or an empty house, as if no-one lived here. It hits him hard when he realizes that Tommy didn’t count on ever coming back here. Everything is in it’s place: there aren’t discarded clothes or personal items, books are piled on the nightstand, the quilted blanket Sarah made for him is neatly folded at the end of the narrow, rickety bed. An old, worn out plush horse is sitting on the pillow, and Charlie immediately recognizes it with a strange mix of pain and happiness.

He gave this horse to Tommy eighteen years ago, on the day Sarah first brought him home from the hospital. She called Charlie with tearful voice because Arthur Sr. was somewhere in Wolverhampton, too drunk to drive or care about his family. She didn’t even have to ask and he was already on his way to pick her up. He was waiting in the car with the extremely excited little Arthur while Sarah said goodbye to the lovely nurses who helped them so much. He spotted a toy shop near the parking lot and asked his nephew whether they should buy a gift to the baby. He will never forget Arthur’s answer: „I’ll get my Tiny Tommy to cuddle all day. He needs to have something cute too.” So they bought the softest toy they could find: a black horse with white muzzle and a spot on it’s head. From that day, the toy never left Tommy’s side until he was too old to play with it. It was the first thing he grabbed with clumsy little hands and when he started crawling or walking, Arthur held it just out of his reach to motivate him, and it always worked. He held it in his sleep and carried it around everywhere, even at Charlie’s yard and the stables where it could get dirty. If it happened and the horse had to be washed, he was patiently waiting by the washing machine and the fire or at a sunny spot where his mother left it to dry. Charlie didn’t know he still has it but it warms his heart a bit to think that Tommy can find some comfort in his old friend. Not that it mattered in the hour of need.

Though the lad didn’t ask for anything, he starts searching in the drawers to find some thick socks for him. Tommy's feet and hands have always been cold, and he believes it must be worse after losing so much blood. He chooses a book from the pile that has a horse in the title, he knows that’s something Tommy would enjoy. After a moment of hesitation, he tucks the plush horse in the crook of his elbow. He’s about to leave when he spots a crumpled piece of paper under the commode. He kneels down the floor and just manages to reach it. He suspects what it is the moment he smooths the letter. Because he knows that’s what it was supposed to be before Tommy changed his mind. It’s his unfinished suicide note.

I’m so sorry. I love you all more than I can tell. I never wanted to cause you pain but I can’t bear this any longer. I know I would only hurt you more if I didn’t finish…

Charlie’s fist clenches around the paper. He doesn’t notice when tears start falling from his eyes until his shoulders are shaking so wildly he can’t ignore it any longer. In the empty loneliness of Tommy’s room, with his old toy horse held tight to his heart, he lets himself grieve for everything he never had but craved for, everything he lost and what he wishes to never let go.

----

When Arthur runs back to Tommy’s hospital room with a doctor, a nurse and a security guard in tow, Dad is towering over the bed with a white-knuckled grip around Tommy’s motionless arm. He hisses something into his ear, though Arthur doesn’t know what or why, when his brother isn’t – can not – pay attention at all. He is desperately panting for air with alarmingly blueish lips, his face scrunched up in pain, the machines around him beeping like crazy.

He vaguely notices that he doctor who had been so collected and calm earlier yells at Dad and pushes him away as he rushes to Tommy. The security guard stands between Dad and the bed.

„Mr. Shelby, leave this room this instance with the gentleman or I’m afraid I’ll have to call the police. You’re endangering your son’s recovery, dare to say his life and we will not assist to your abuse in this hospital. I have to ask you to leave.” The doctor says after he hastily places an oxygen mask on Tommy’s face. The nurses are bustling around him, syringes are filled, monitors are read, the doctors big, careful hands are on the bloodstained bandages. Arthur feels like his head is spinning.

„What’s all the fuss about? You’re just wasting energy and money on something that doesn’t worth fixing. He’ll try again until he bleeds out like a pig or rots at the bottom of the cut. Like his fucking mother. He’s just as mad as that whore, a waste of breath.” Dad barks a short, cruel laugh and the doctor looks at him with a shocked and disgusted expression for a moment before he nods to the muscular security guy.

Arthur hears his father’s cursing and yelling long after he’s led out to the corridor but can’t understand a word because Tommy opens his eyes and the pain and desperation in them is too much to bear. He looks scared and his gaze clings to Arthur in a silent plea. For what, Arthur doesn’t know for sure. He jolts when suddenly there’s a nurse next to him who offers a wad of gauze for his bleeding nose he hasn’t even noticed and gently leads him out of the door. But he can’t leave Tommy, he’s his little brother and Arthur promised him to always hold his hand. He doesn’t realise he said it out loud until the nurse squeezes his shoulder.

„The most you can do for your brother is to let the doctors and nurses do their job, darling.” She even coaxes him to let her treat his broken nose and hold an ice pack to his rapidly swelling black eye.

But all he can see is the fear and desperation in Tommy’s gaze.

Later the doctor finds Arthur who feels a little hazy after taking the pain killers the nurse gave him. He can barely understand what he tells him and feels helplessly stupid but he knows Aunt Polly will explain everything he asks her about later when she's back and gets out everything from everyone. The doctor says that Tommy had another panic attack and what everyone thought was a heart attack turned out be something called Takotsubo cardiomyopathy, also know as broken heart syndrome. He probably senses Arthur’s utter confusion and patiently explains him that its signs can look a lot like the signs of a heart attack, such as chest pain, shortness of breath or abnormal heartbeat. It is typically caused by mental stress, for example a sudden emotional shock or recent death of a loved one. Tommy can tick those boxes, Arthur thinks. The doctor tells him about how stress hormones can weaken the heart muscle but it isn’t permanent. He wants to know how do they know for sure after yesterday when Tommy’s heart actually stopped due to the hypovolemic shock. The doctor reassures him that they did many tests, continue monitoring Tommy’s heart and keep everything under control, and Arthur believes him because he can’t understand half of what he says but wants his little brother to live and a broken heart sounds easier to repair than one that doesn’t work. Dad tore some stitches in Tommy’s arm and he lost more blood than he could afford in his condition, but they could stop the bleeding and fix the damage that was done. The man warns Arthur they have to give him another unit of blood but this blood loss was nowhere as severe as what he caused to himself.

What nobody can predict but everyone is worried about is the aftermath of what Tommy heard from Dad. What his cruel words did to him when he’s already lost in the dark and tried to die.

You should have died if you weren’t this fucked up.

That’s what Dad said. Everybody was shocked when Arthur told them. And he told everyone who listened to him, and will keep doing it if anyone asks. They kept every ugly thing bottled up for too long. The whole family assisted Dad in slowly killing Mum and Tommy without even knowing it. He beat all of them, said nasty things all the time, but what he’s done to Tommy ever since he was born is a torture. Beat the living shit out of him so he couldn’t go to school for weeks, humiliate him on daily basis and throwing cruelties at his head every time he saw him. Locked him in the dark fucking basement when he was small for hours on end until Mum was begging Dad to let him out. Sometimes he beat Tommy instead of Arthur when they were younger. It hurt more than enduring the blows himself. He’ll never forget the day when Ada ran to him, crying that she did something wrong and Dad is hurting Tommy. The little idiot made a deal with him to spare his little sister the pain he knew too well.

They always said it’s family business. That it should be kept between them. The Shelbys against the world. But Arthur had enough of that. It’s been them against Dad the entire time. It should have been at least. He won’t stand in silence and see Tommy wasting away and dying in silence any longer. It was Mum’s death that pushed him through the edge but it started long before yesterday. He needs his little brother to get better or he doesn’t know how he could live with what he’s done. What he has not done.

Nobody would miss you.

That’s a lie. Arthur would miss Tommy. So would John, Ada and even baby Finn who always stopped crying when Tommy was cradling him. Who would calm him down if Tommy stepped out of life? Aunt Polly would miss his smartest nephew. Uncle Charlie would feel like he lost a son. Curly wouldn’t have anyone to talk about horses for hours. Freddie and Danny would lose their best friend. People love and need Tommy, whether he knows it or not.

----

Tommy wishes he was dead. Every time he opens his eyes, things seem to be worse than before. Dad came to hurt him and he did, but his words hurt more than any physical pain.

You should have died. Nobody would miss you. I don’t need this shit.
You should have died. You should have died. You should have died.
Youshouldhavediedyoushouldhavediedyoushouldhavediedyoushouldhavedied

He squeezes his eye shut and wishes he could chase the voices away from his head. But he can’t. Whatever he tries to avert his thoughts with, Dad’s voice keeps coming back to torture him.

You should have died.
Nobody would miss you.

There is a man in white leaning over his bed and he tries to focus on what he says in vain. All he can hear is Dad.

You should have died. Nobody would miss you.

He doesn’t want to be here. He curls up as small as possible under the blankets and wishes he could vanish without anyone noticing. He wants to go home, though he doesn’t know where that is. He wants to be with Mum. That would feel like home, unlike the house on Watery Lane. It doesn’t feel or smell like home without her. Dad doesn’t want him to be there anyways. He doesn’t want him to be at all.

That’s why he brought him that cruel little gift. „Just a reminder of your failure. I bet it’s a hard pill to swallow. Maybe you should finish what you started.” He hissed into Tommy’s ear before Arthur and all those people came back running.

In a sudden moment of clarity, Tommy notices he’s alone for the first time. So Arthur finally gave up on him. It shouldn’t hurt, but he can’t help it. Everyone leaves, even his big brother. Like Mum. She said she loved him. That she would always be there for him. Arthur promised the same things and he’s gone too.

Everyone leaves. Why should he stay, then?

Nobody would miss you.

He shifts and tries to reach under his pillow, where Dad hid what he brought for him. He thinks he can move the fingers of his right hand if he tries hard enough. He isn’t sure what to do then.

You should have died.

He sees the shining of the small object in the dim light coming through the window before his numb fingers could feel its sharp edges. Could he press it to his skin with enough strength to matter? Perhaps he should just swallow it. Maybe that’s why Dad used those exact words. Though Tommy doubts he would remember any of them if they called him to say his useless son is dead.

You should have died.

He stares at the razor blade as if he’s mesmerized by it. He doesn’t know how long, time has lost all meaning.

It would hurt. But living hurts more.

He flinches when suddenly there are strong, lanky arms around him.

„Fuck, Tommy! What the fuck are you doing? How the hell did you get this shit?” Someone cries in a shaky voice.

It’s Arthur. Arthur is back. Arthur loves him. He came back and Tommy hurt him again.

„Fucking hell, little brother! Stop it!” Arthur’s voice cracks and he starts rocking his trembling, fragile body. There are tears streaming down on Tommy' face and he doesn't know how to stop them. It will hurt Arthur even more.

Dad was right. He’s a burden who hurts everyone.

He wants to die. He wants to die. It would be better for everyone. They could be happy without him. Why don’t they let him die?

„Let me go. Let me go. Let me go. Let me go.” He doesn’t know if it’s just a pleading voice in his head or he really says it until he hears Arthur’s desperate answer.

„Like fuck, Tommy. You’re not going anywhere. I told you before, and I’ll tell you a thousand times if I need to. I won’t see you die, you hear me? I won't let you. Be damned if I ever break my promise.”

Chapter Text

Eventually Charlie dries his tears and collects himself enough to face the world and whatever hardship it holds for him or his loved ones again. It’s not his tragedy in the first place but the Shelbys’. He can’t be so selfish to make it all about himself. Though reminding himself of that doesn’t make it less painful to live with the gaping hole Sarah left in his heart or see Tommy spiraling and torturing himself. It still hurts like hell. He would like to go back to his yard and drink enough whiskey to forget everything, but he knows he can’t do that. Not when Tommy needs him. He is the closest the lad ever had to a father, he must be strong for him and help. Arthur Sr. is as useless as ever. He didn’t deserve Sarah, and doesn’t deserve her son either. None of her children, actually. It isn’t the first and probably not the last time when Charlie wishes he would have done something more to help. He should have convinced Sarah to leave her husband the day Tommy was born and Arthur Sr. looked at him with contempt and disgust instead of the love and worry everyone expected from a father. He wasn’t even there in time, only showed up half a day later when Sarah already cried her eyes out on Charlie’s shoulder.

Charlie wants to wash his face in an attempt to try to hide that he was crying for god knows how long. He absentmindedly goes to the bathroom and barely steps over the threshold when gruesome memories of last night hit him like a train. He can’t tear his eyes from the bathtub, now perfectly clean, spotless and white, as if it was new. But all he sees is bright red blood pooling at the bottom of it, staining its edges and sides. He sees Tommy’s seemingly lifeless body again, the sight is painfully familiar by now. But his Tommy survived this nightmare, even if it hasn’t ended for him yet. Charlie forces himself to remember that his nephew is safe and alive. People take care of him in the hospital. What he sees is just his tired mind playing tricks with him.

„We’re all losing our fucking minds because of you, Sarah.” He mutters as he steps to the wash basin and turns the taps.

Suddenly he hears the clicking sound of Polly’s high heels. Charlie’s heart clenches and he already knows something’s wrong before she opens her mouth.

„It’s Tommy, isn’t it?”

Polly nods.

„I got a call from the hospital. We need to go back immediately.”

----

Arthur only averts his eyes from Tommy’s sleeping form when the door of his room quietly opens and Uncle Charlie joins his vigil with a heavy sigh.

„Your aunt is biting the doctor’s and nurses’ heads off. She’ll join us soon when they're all humiliated and regretful enough.”

„It’s my fault.” Arthur says and his voice is heavy with guilt and self-hatred. „It was me who left him alone with Dad. I saw that he hurt him, heard all that bullshit he said and still left him alone.”

„Stop this shit, Arthur!” Charlie grabs the younger man’s shoulder and shakes it lightly. „You didn’t leave him alone. You did the right thing and asked for help. It’s not your fault your damn father encouraged him to kill himself and left him fucking tools for it. Fucking bastard.”

Arthur sniffs and slids his open palm under Tommy’s hand.

„They had to put new stitches in his left. Dad fucking squeezed his arm until it was bleeding again. His bandages were soaked in blood by the time I ran back. If only I was faster…” Why did he leave Tommy alone? Why didn’t he fight tooth and nails to drag Dad away from him? Dad always defeated him when they were boxing but he’s younger. He should have done more.

„Shut up, lad! It’s not your fault, none of it. Neither this or yesterday.” Charlie pats his back and leaves his warm, comforting hand there.

„You saved your brother. God knows what would have happened if he was all alone with your dad.”

Arthur lets out a shaky sigh and rubs his eyes with his free hand forcefully. He wants to believe his uncle so much it hurts.

„How is your face?” Charlie asks. "It looks bloody painful."

Arthur carefully touches the bruised side of his face with a wince.

„Great. My nose is broken and I can’t see shit with this eye.” He glances at the bag Uncle Charlie dropped down next to his chair. „What’s that?”

„Just some things for Tommy. I thought they would provide him some comfort. Warm socks, a book and his old stuffed horse.” Charlie says with a sad little smile Arthur immediately returns.

„I remember that. You could never see little Tommy without his horsie tucked under his arm. It’s there on every single photo Mum took of him since he was taken home from the hospital as a wee baby until he was too big to play with it. But he still sleeps with it, you know?” He smirks. „He says he just keeps it on his bed but I saw him holding it in his sleep more than once.”

Uncle Charlie pulls the plush horse out of the bag and carefully sits it in the crook of Tommy’s elbow.

„It can watch over him once again, eh? Just like in good old times.”

Arthur nods in agreement. „I wish it really could. I wish it did when he felt so alone and desperate he couldn’t even ask for our help.”

„I know, Arthur, and I wish he did. But he didn’t, and we have to make the most of what we have now.”

----

Tommy is staring at the wall with burning eyes. He doesn’t know for how long he’s been crying and shaking while Arthur held him tight. It doesn’t matter anymore. Things got hazy after that again. It’s harder to keep his own thoughts at bay and silence Dad’s voice in his head than before. He wishes there was something to distract him beside the muffled sounds from the corridor. Not that he could focus on noises or other people very well. Everything is drifting away and the distance between him and the rest of the world keeps on stretching further. All he can hear is Dad repeating the same things over and over again. Nothing else.

Nobody would miss you. You should have died. You should finish what you started.

He tried. He tried and failed again. First he failed at living and then the failed at dying twice. What is he supposed to do when his entire existence seems to be a failure?

He doesn’t dare to ask who saved him for the first time, though being sentenced to live feels nothing like saving. Perhaps he doesn’t even want to know. All he hopes is that Ada and John didn’t see the blood.

There is a doctor who is talking to him but he can’t understand a single word. It’s just unintelligible noise, like distant buzzing of a beehive. It’s the same with nurses. They smile at him with tight lips but their eyes are filled with concern and pity. He doesn’t care what they say. There are no words to make things better because he will never get better. He knows that for sure.

They should have let him go.

They should let him go.

He wants to let go.

He wants to let go.

He wants to go.

He doesn’t understand why everyone insists on dragging him back to life from the edge but it’s a fucking cruel thing to do. Arthur says he loves him and he knows it, but he wishes his brother understood and stopped caring because it hurts more than any physical pain he ever experienced. He knows the pain he causes Arthur as well, and hates that he became a burden to him, something that needs to be saved and fixed. He is here again, Tommy can feel his presence even if he doesn’t look at him. Doesn’t want to see the sadness and worry in his eyes. Maybe he should just stop clinging to his loyal, caring big brother like a damn leech that’s sucking his blood until there’s nothing left to give.

Dying is a lonely thing.

He would be with Mum by now if he wasn’t so stupid to try to kill himself at home. At least he should have waited until everyone went to bed so they wouldn’t have noticed anything until it was too late. Why didn’t he think? Everyone but Dad says he’s clever, than why didn’t he use his brain?

He should have cut deeper, stronger, better, cut his legs too. He should have used a knife or cut his throat. Should have stolen Dad’s gun he uses for hunting and blow his useless brain out.

He should have gone to the cut like Mum. But he couldn’t make himself go there. Even when Uncle Charlie tried to take him to the stables on one of the bleak, dark days blurred together after Mum’s death, he couldn’t get out of the car. He was just sitting there with his hand on the door handle and couldn’t move an inch. The cut was too close. They knew that Mum walked into the water at Charlie’s yard and she was found not far from there. Fortunately, Uncle Charlie understood without him saying a word. He was cursing himself fiercely, drove away from there and held Tommy in his arms for a long time until the familiar, comforting smell of horses and hay on his jacket chased away the memories of dirty water, mud and death. He was back to the canal every night, every time he closed his eyes in a vain attempt to sleep and that horrible smell has never left him.

One day or maybe an eternity later Uncle Charlie turned up on Watery Lane with two horses, not giving a damn about disapproving looks, insults and mocking words from the neighbors. Tommy just looked out of his bedroom window when he heard his favourite horse’s soft neighs but didn’t move until Arthur practically dragged him down to join their uncle who was patiently waiting for him.

Tommy didn’t say a word but followed Uncle Charlie for long hours to Wyre Forest and deep into the woods. The rhythm of riding lulled him into something closer to peace than he’s ever been since Mum went missing, and the familiar clatter of hooves silenced his screaming mind a bit. But not even that was able to chase away the emptiness eating up his soul. When they eventually stopped, Uncle Charlie offered him a sandwich and an apple but didn’t push him to eat, unlike Aunt Polly. Tommy thought his uncle might felt the same like him, maybe he tasted sludge and death whenever he tried to eat anything. He took the apple and gave it to his horse without even considering to take a bite. Charlie didn’t seem to mind, at least didn’t say a word. They spent the entire day in the forest, and although Tommy felt his uncle’s watchful eyes on him as he was stroking the horse’s mane and leaned to his warm side when they stopped, it didn’t bother him. They had many days like this together before everything shattered and went to hell.

Uncle Charlie only spoke once, before they headed back to Birmingham in the late afternoon. The setting beams of sun filtered through the canopy and danced on the horses shiny manes. Charlie reached for Tommy’s hand holding the reins and gives it a gentle, short squeeze.

„I know you don’t feel up to it yet, Tommy. But I want you to know that I’m here for you if you need to talk. You can come to me, call or text me anytime when you’re ready. Even in the middle of the night, if you have to, I don’t care. I’m always here for you, and I’m listening, even when you’re silent.”

A fresh wave of guilt and shame washes over Tommy at the thought of Uncle Charlie. He's here, too. He brought his old stuffed horse from home. Tommy doesn't know how he figured out that's what he wanted to ask for when his uncle asked what he needed. Not that he deserves to be cared for or comforted. He hurts his family all the time and yet they don’t want him to die. Except Dad.

He wishes he could give them what they want from him. If only he could get up and say he’s fine, or at least will be fine. He wishes he could go home with them and know how to be alive again instead of this empty and torturous ghost-like existence he’s stuck in. He would like to be happy to make them happy, and to ride with Uncle Charlie all day again.

But he can’t. He’s too tired and broken, and however he tries, he can’t muster up enough energy and courage to live. It’s even more terrifying now than ever. He can’t hide from their scrutinizing gazes, everybody knows he’s a lost cause after what he did. They see how fucked up he is inside, and now he stupidly made sure to let is show from the outside too. Everybody would know. What would his little siblings think if the wreckage of his inside would be visible at first glance? Dad said he crippled his arms and he knows it’s true. The fingers of his right hand barely switched enough to swipe out the razor blade from under the pillow. His left still feels dead, except when Dad squeezed it in his white knuckled grip Tommy knows so well and hot waves of pain reminded him with blooming flowers of blood that it still belongs to him. He knows that with fucked up arms and hands like these, he couldn’t even cradle baby Finn anymore, or braid Ada’s hair. He would never be able to ride again, as Dad said.

All he wanted was to escape his miserable life and be with Mum again, safe and loved, and he did nothing but made it worse. Now he lost the only thing that always made him happy and gave him the feeling of freedom.

You should finish what you started.

Dad was right. Death is the only way out of his misery. And he even lost that small mercy.

----

All Polly can see of Tommy is a small lump under his blankets and a dark mop of hair on the pillow. He’s curled up on his side with his back to them. Arthur is sitting next him, rhythmically stroking his mussed hair.

„Is he awake?” She whispers but Arthur only shrugs.

„I don’t know. Don't think so. They gave him some stuff to calm him down and that knocked him out. He was awake for a while but didn’t say a word. Nothing since he was begging me to let him go after I found him staring at that fucking razor blade.”

„I spoke with his doctor. You know, Williams. He said they postponed the psychiatric evaluation that was planned for this afternoon. Today was too much strain for him and they are worried about his heart. His blood pressure is way too low and his heartbeat is irregular.” She explains stiffly. „They want to do it as soon as possible, though. But he said whatever happens from now, it’s guaranteed Tommy’s going to be transferred to the psychiatric ward when he can leave the ICU. There aren’t any other options after what he’s done, and especially not after today. It couldn’t be more obvious that he is a danger to himself. We better get used to the thought that he’s going to be committed to a mental institution.”

„Do you think it will help?” Charlie asks with doubt in his voice. „Isn’t sending him to a fucking asylum something his father would do?”

„He would.” Arthur adds hastily. „That’s exactly what Dad said. That he guarantees Tommy will be locked in an asylum for the rest of his days.”

„It’s not a fucking asylum!” Polly snaps. „We’re not sending him to Bedlam in the Victorian era. These are nice places where they can help him. Doctor Williams ensured me Tommy will get the best treatment possible.”

„Tommy won’t like that.” Charlie mumbles. „I truly doubt he would willingly talk to a shrink. It will only make things worse, especially after his father’s threats about commitment. He will think we want to get rid of him because he’s problematic. I want him to get real help but he won’t see it like that.”

„Well he better get used to it because that’s what is going to happen.” Polly’s eye blaze with anger. „I won’t let my nephew throw his life away.”

„Can’t we just take him to therapy from home and take care of him ourselves?” Arthur asks hopefully.

„And follow him everywhere all day? Hide every fucking sharp objects, pills and poisonous things from him at home? Lock all the windows on the second floor to stop him from jumping out? What else? Get rid of sheets and everything else he can use to hang or strangle himself?” Polly refutes with growing irritation. „Charlie kept his eyes on your mother for days and what did it matter in the end? He still had to pull her out of the cut.”

„Enough, Polly!” Charlie keeps his voice low but it’s filled with force. „Enough, for fuck’s sake. You don’t have to remind me of the biggest mistake of my life. But she didn’t have real help, just us. Tommy will. I know what we have to do. I know they can help him in a mental hospital but it doesn’t make it easier when I know he will see it as a betrayal of the few people he trusts the most.”

They sink into an uncomfortable silence. Arthur keeps stroking Tommy’s hair and his damp, cold forehead. He’s done it countless times over the years: when they were little boys, sharing the same bed; when Tommy was sick, scared or in pain after Dad beat him, when he woke up from a nightmare or could not sleep and craved for his company. He’s been caressing Tommy and held his hand every single night since Mum died. Who will do this when Tommy is locked up in an institution, all on his own, without anyone who loves him? He can’t stop thinking that this will break what’s left of his little brother.

Chapter Text

John is lying on his bed, staring at the crumbling plaster on the ceiling. Aunt Polly allowed them to stay at home for a few days after Mum’s funeral and his brothers are not here, so there’s nothing to do. He doesn’t want to listen to Ada’s whining or the baby’s crying. Neither does he want to hear Mrs. Thorne’s compassionate voice and her carefully chosen words to avoid mentioning anything about Mum or Tommy. He doesn’t want more lies.

John knows there’s something wrong with Tommy, more than what Aunt Polly admitted. He’s seen what Tommy’s been like since the day when Uncle Charlie brought him home on a misty afternoon and told them he found Mum dead. He heard through the thin walls when his brother was crying and screaming on the first nights after, just like Arthur’s desperate attempts and Aunt Polly’s calm voice to comfort him. The silence of the following nights was even worse and he became paler and more ghost-like with every passing day. He noticed the raw, undisguised pain in Tommy’s eyes and his shivering during the funeral. He saw the strange, empty look on his face when they got home and he immediately climbed the stairs instead of joining them. John doesn’t believe Aunt Polly. There wasn’t any accident. John knows Tommy did something wrong to himself.

It hurt to see his big brother like that but it hurts more to not see him at all. Tommy has always been there for him and tried to protect him, John can’t even count how many times he lied to Dad and took responsibility for something instead of him, Ada or their cousins. He wishes the adults stopped walking on their tiptoes and told him what really happened. Knowing would be easier than speculating. He isn’t as clever as Tommy, as people like to point out, but it doesn’t mean he can’t piece the signs and hastily whispered words together.

Tommy went upstairs. Aunt Polly followed him later to check on Finn and came down, dragged Uncle Charlie out of the kitchen, who ran up faster than John has ever seen him and broke down the bathroom door. He was screaming Tommy’s name. Aunt Polly called an ambulance, planted herself in the kitchen door, told them that their brother got injured and refused to let them see him and say goodbye before he was taken to the hospital. She called Mrs. Thorne who didn’t let them go to the bathroom before she cleaned it. When John finally went upstairs, the bathtub and the floor was spotless and shiny. But there was an open package of razor blades that wasn’t there before the funeral. He knows because Dad sent him back for the watch he left there. Nobody was shaving after they came back. Only Tommy was in there and Arthur didn’t answer his calls and didn’t say shit when he sent him messages, and Aunt Polly told them Tommy fell and injured his arms, but why should the inside of the bathtub be cleaned after that? Why can’t they visit him? John knows they’re lying. He figured out that Tommy tried to kill himself. And he knows his brother will die too.

He angrily wipes the tears from his eyes. Those liars don’t deserve to cry for them. Neither Mum who died and left them all alone with Dad, or Tommy who wanted to do the same. Deep down in his heart, John knows he’s unfair but he clings onto his wrath. Being angry is easier and better than being sad. Look what it did to Tommy.

He hears the door slam and sits up abruptly. Someone came home. He hopes it’s Arthur, but the thumbing footsteps echoing in his heart tell him it’s Dad.

„John! Where the fuck are you, boy?” He yells, and John drags himself down the stairs with far less excitement than before.

Dad is sitting on the couch with legs spread out and looks completely nonchalant. That’s not how a widower should look like, or a father whose son is in the hospital. Uncle Charlie looks much sadder than him, and he’s not even their real uncle, just a friend of Mum.

„Come on, boy! Bring me the whiskey from the kitchen!” He orders and John does what he’s told before he could even consider doing the opposite.”Where’s that nosy bitch?”

„You mean Mrs. Thorne? She’s upstairs, bathing the baby. Did you go to the hospital to Tommy?” John asks tentatively.

„Aye, your old man took care of everything. Talked to his fucking head. He won’t cause more trouble.” Dad says with a short laugh before he downs the first glass of whiskey but it sounds cruel and sends a shiver down the boy’s spine

„What do you mean? Is he fine?”

„I made some things clear for him. Told him what he needed to hear. ’A foolish son is a grief to his father’, as the Holy Bible says, but I’ll grieve no more.” Dad smiles at him without any warmth. He extends his hand with the empty glass. „Come and join me, son.”

„Why? And what does that quote mean?” John doesn’t understand a thing.

„You should read the Bible more. Now drink with me!” He pours whiskey to the glass and waves it in his son’s direction.

„I’m only thirteen, Dad. Mum would never let me drink that.”

„But she’s fucking dead, eh?!” Dad yells so loudly it makes him flinch. „Who cares what she would want? She chose to drown herself in the fucking cut, instead of taking care of you lot.”

John just stares at him with tears pricking at his eyes. Dad is lying. Aunt Polly said it was an accident. Mum always liked to got to the canal. it was raining a lot that week when she went missing. The riverbank was slippery and she fell into the water. That’s what their aunt said. But didn’t she lied about Tommy? What if she did the same with Mum? What if Dad is right for once?

„Sit and drink, John. You’re my son. You won’t be a whiny pussy like your brother, I’ll make sure of that.”

He wants to protest and defend Tommy but somehow he can’t. He finally lowers himself next to Dad who puts the full glass into his hand.

„We celebrate today.”

„What?” John think he misheard something. What would they celebrate when Mum is dead? When Tommy might be dying?

„You heard me. To a fresh start!” Dad drinks straight from the bottle. Half of the golden liquid is missing already.

John feels sick but he takes the glass because there’s a scary glint in his father’s eyes. He takes a sip but it’s too much and he and immediately bursts into a coughing fit. A big, heavy hand pats his back roughly.

„Good lad. You’ll get better at it the more you drink. You need to toughen up. I don’t need another disappointment like your fucking brother. He betrayed you, John. He manipulates you all with those fucking eyes of him and acts like an innocent little boy but he’s a liar. You should always keep that in mind. When did he teach you anything useful? He wants to turn you into a fucking useless little girl like him. I’m fucking sick of his antics. If God is kind to us, we don’t have to deal with it anymore.”

He eventually gathers enough courage to speak but he still sounds like a scared little boy.

„I… I don’t want to drink more. And I don’t want to hear how you talk about Tommy. He’s my big brother.”

Anger flashes on Dad’s face and he pushes John away with force. The boy falls to the floor but quickly gathers himself and runs out of the living room to the stairs. But no distance can keep Dad’s furious words away.

„You will fucking regret it John, you hear me?! Your brother cut his own arms to bleed out like a damn butchered animal. You’ll never see that pathetic little shit again, but I’ll be here and remember that you disappointed me.”

----

Arthur is alone with Tommy again when shadows of the night slowly retreat to the corners of the small room as the first rays of sunlight chase them away. He wishes somehow they could reach Tommy’s soul, too. Aunt Polly disappeared to the corridor and announced five minutes later that she must go home after she got an unnerving call from John. She didn’t tell Arthur what happened but he knew it had something to do with Dad. She added that Uncle Charlie should accompany her since John had mentioned something about Curly. He had turned up on Watery Lane rambling about a horse that was giving birth to her first foal.

„I feel fucking guilty for leaving for a horse but you know Curly. He’s been waiting for this little one for a long while like a messiah with four hooves. He can’t have Tommy now and he’s in stress, at least I’ll do what I can. I know Tommy wouldn’t mind. He wanted to be there.” He explained and stroked Tommy’s sleeping face and gave his eldest nephew a quick hug before he stepped out of the door.

Arthur gets lost in his thoughts when Nurse Evans quietly enters with a forced smile and a tray.

„Hello, darling. I brought breakfast for Thomas. Could you make sure he eats when he wakes up?”

„Yeah, sure. I’ll do that. Though I can’t promise I’ll succeed. It’s always been difficult with Tommy and food.” He says without thinking and isn’t sure if he made a mistake or not.

„What do you mean?” The nurse asks with a curious expression as she changes an empty bag on the IV stand. She offers an explanation when she feels Arthur’s curious glare at her back. „We administer him fluids to help him recuperate from the hypovolemia and dehydration as soon as possible. He doesn’t drink enough and it can affect his renal function badly.”

„One more thing that can turn to shit? I guess my aunt mentioned something about that.” Arthur murmurs absentmindedly.

„It can but we won’t let it happen. So what is is about Thomas and food? Does he have an eating disorder? I can see his weight is at the lower side.” Nurse Evans carefully adjust the pillows under Tommy’s arms before she turns to the monitor to make notes on her chart.

„I don’t know. He was very small when when he was born and it took him ages to reach a normal size and weight. I don’t remember much just that Mum was always worried about him. Then he became a picky eater, there were things he couldn’t eat and our Dad made it worse with scolding him for it and giving him lectures about a lot of shit at mealtimes. Sometimes we didn’t have money for enough food and he always gave his to our little siblings. He’s very close to our uncle, he has horses Tommy loves and he spends a lot of time at his place. I don’t think food gives him trouble there.”

Arthur feels uncomfortable for sharing so many things with the nurse but isn’t it what he just decided? He needs to tell everything so they can help Tommy.

„Well, we’ll see how it goes here. He’s going to need help to eat for a while, so he can’t hide anything from us.”

„He won’t like that.” Arthur scoffs and rubs his swollen eye with a painful wince. „He could barely swallow anything since our Mum died, just stares at everything like it’s the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen. He threw up almost everything Aunt Polly managed to force on him.”

„I see. I’m sorry about your mother, darling. It must be a hard time for you all.”

The nurse lightly squeezes his shoulder for a moment in a motherly gesture and Arthur suddenly feels like crying. So he buries his face in his palms and can’t look up until she quietly leaves the room. Everything seems too much. But he must stay strong for his brother. How could he help Tommy if he let himself fall apart too?

Arthur is sitting next to the bed in the same position when Tommy wakes up with a long sigh. It feels like a miracle to see him slowly becoming more alert after all those restless nights following Mum’s death. At least they have this small mercy of medication in this fucked up situation. He seems sluggish and disoriented but his sleepy eyes immediately find his brother. The sight of him makes Arthur’s heart churn. He hates to see his siblings sick or injured, always had. Especially Tommy, who was so fragile as a baby and somehow always got into trouble as he grew up, mostly because Dad lashed out at him for every single thing he did or did not. He’s still ghastly pale, his lips are ashen and dry, and there are dark circles under his eyes which only make their blueness more prominent. All Arthur wants to do is to wrap him in cotton wool and make sure that nobody can hurt him anymore. Not Dad. Not even himself.

„Morning, Tommy.” He say quietly and instinctively strokes his brother’s hand when his eyes close again.

His heart freezes when he realizes that Tommy doesn’t even notice his touch. It’s his left side and Arthur stares at the heavily bandaged arm in that weird looking splint as it lays motionless on a pillow. He tentatively squeezes his cold fingers, just a little bit, but there’s still no reaction. What if Dad made it worse when he hurt him? It was pretty bad to begin with, based on what Polly told him. What if Dad was right and he will never ride again? He could never accept that. How will he ever get over Mum’s death if he loses the only thing that could always bring him comfort? Arthur wishes he understood all that medical stuff he heard from doctors and nurses but they just make him feel like an idiot. He needs to know if his little brother will get better or should get used to the thought of an entirely different and probably miserable life.

But things will be different anyways, won’t they? A shrink will talk to Tommy and he’ll be sent to a fucking asylum. Aunt Polly is sure about that. Arthur doesn’t know anything about mental hospitals or treatments there, only saw them in movies but it scares him like hell to imagine Tommy at a place like that. All alone, thinking his entire family abandoned him broken and crippled because they don’t want to deal with him anymore. He will be in pain and afraid and sad and he won’t have Arthur. What kind of big brother could let that happen? But what if he tries to kill himself again and they could prevent it with whatever treatment that place has to offer? What if he tries it there, too? Or could they make sure he’s safe and prevent it? What if it’s Arthur who simply can’t bear the thought of leaving his little brother alone? He promised Mum he would always protect Tommy the day he held his tiny little hand for the first time, and he did it again many times in the past eighteen years. Being a big brother is the most important role in his life and nothing will ever change that.

----

„Come on, Tommy, you must eat something.” Arthur peers up at the clock on the wall and Tommy knows his brother notes that he spent more than fifteen minutes with trying to convince him too eat the damn oatmeal with no success. „Look, there are blueberries in it. You always loved them.”

He gives Arthur a murderous look and turns his head away. Why would he want to eat when he doesn’t want to live at all?

„I wish your magic little horsie still worked and I could bribe you into eating if I threatened you to take it away. Should we try it?” Arthur asks with forced lightheartedness. Maybe he loses his temper and throws the whole tray at the wall. That would solve the problem in an instance.

All Tommy offers as an answer is a shrug.

„You know what? That’s exactly what I’ll do. Steal your precious horse.” Arthur reaches for the stuffed horse and Tommy instinctively wants to grab it to prevent the theft, as they did so many times when they were younger and Arthur chose the same strategy. The only problem is that he can’t do it now. His right index and middle finger twitch and it sends a burning jolt of pain up until his elbow. He can’t hold back a small whine which he immediately regrets when he sees Arthur’s scared and worried face.

„Fucking hell, Tommy, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you at all. I was just kidding, like when we were kids. I’m fucking sorry.”

„It’s okay.” His voice sounds croaky and dry. „I know you didn't.”

Tommy wishes he still had the ability to smile. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t offer this small comfort to his big brother.

„Does it hurt very much? Do you want me to call someone? They can give you more pain relief.” Arthur cups his face in his big palm and he instinctively leans into it.

It hurts a lot, but he doesn’t want anything.

„No.”

„Will you eat, Tom? Please. For me?” His brother looks at him and his one visible eye is so hopeful and sad at the same time that Tommy wants to avert his gaze. But he doesn’t. „I would do anything to make you get better, brother. It drives me nuts to know you’re suffering, not because of me but you, and I want to help. Please don’t hurt yourself more than you did.”

Arthur doesn’t understand. It's not just that he doesn't want to be fed like a baby. It is the earthy, putrid smell of the canal water that keeps clinging to him and fills everything inside whenever he tries to eat. His brother didn’t kneel in the mud, surrounded by death and staring at Mum who didn’t look like herself at all.

Tommy doesn’t want to make Arthur feel even worse, so he fights off the rising nausea and reluctantly eats the offered blueberries and a few spoonfuls of oatmeal, even if he knows he will see them back within half an hour. And so he does, but his brother is there to wipe his mouth and holds him tightly when he feels even more miserable. He rests his head on Arthur’s shoulder and wishes an embrace like this still could make everything better like when they were little boys.

They stay like that for hours, until there is an unforeseen, tight pain at Tommy’s chest and suddenly it seems harder to breathe. He feels lightheaded and breaks out in cold sweat. He doesn’t want to say anything, though everyone tells him to do it if something doesn’t feel right. But nothing feels right, and it will never change, especially not for the better. He could scream all day if he took it seriously. Everything hurts, somewhere deep inside his core, but it has barely anything to do with real pain. Physical pain is okay. It averts his thoughts from what really hurts. It’s just the void where his heart once was that he can’t endure.

How can emptiness be so painful?

Anyways, what’s the point of complaining when he’s hooked up to a monitor? They would immediately know if something was off with his heart, blood pressure or oxygen level or whatever that thing keeps track of, wouldn’t they? As if on cue something lets out an alarming sound when a fresh wave of pain presses behind his ribs and makes his breath hitch.

„Tommy? Are you okay? Tell me what’s wrong, brother.”

Arthur is here, he reminds himself. He didn’t leave. Maybe it would be better, though. Tommy could spare him a lot of sadness. He knows he’s selfish. Arthur deserves better than him, someone like John who isn’t as broken and pathetic as he is. But the thought of being abandoned by his big brother seems unbearable. He needs Arthur if he is forced to live. Just until he gets another chance to leave it all behind.

„Shall I call someone?” Arthur asks nervously, his eyes dart between his brother, the monitor and the nurse call button.

Tommy shakes his head but his wince betrays him.

„Shit, I think I should.” Arthur says with visibly rising panic.

„No.” Tommy forces the word out, though it feels wrong to speak. He shouldn’t speak when he is supposed to be dead. Dad wants him dead.

Why do they keep him him shackled to life though he craves for death?

„But you’re in pain, don’t you? I’m not that blind, Tom, I can see it.”

No, you can’t. If you saw the real pain, you would have let me go.

He wants to tell his brother to shut up but the only thing that comes out of his mouth is a small groan instead of words. There are black spots in his vision and he can barely hear as Arthur nervously explains something to a nurse who suddenly appears beside him with a syringe. He didn’t even notice when she came in.

Tommy doesn’t know how much time passes by but he keeps his eyes on Arthur. His brother is stroking his face with more tenderness than anyone but his siblings would expect from him, until the pain slowly fades away.

Only the real one stays. The one that will never leave him again, just grow like a festering wound until there is nothing left to be saved.

Chapter Text

Ada stands in front of his brother’s closed bedroom and tentatively knocks on the door. Echoes of Dad and Aunt Polly’s argument climb up the dark staircase and cling onto her.

„John? Can I come in?” She asks hopefully in a small voice.

„No. Fuck off.” John’s words lack the fire they’re intended to carry. He sounds sad. Ada thinks he’s crying. They could do it together just as well.

„Please, John! Auntie and Dad are shouting at each other. I don’t want to be alone.”

„Go to Finn.” The voice on the other side of the door isn’t so muffled now, so her brother must have come closer.

„He’s just a baby, and he’s sleeping. Please, I want my big brothers. You’re the only one at home.” Ada pleads.

Who she really wants is Tommy, she always goes to him when she’s sad or scared, but Tommy isn’t here. And he’s been the saddest of them all for a while. He couldn’t offer his little sister any comfort because he needed it more than anyone else. Holding him hasn’t felt the same since Mum died. He let Ada snuggle beside him and circled his arms around her as always when she came to him, but it didn’t soothe her at all, it was desperate and unfamiliar. Aunt Polly straight out told her not to bother Tommy at night, and it hurt a little because he always lets her in when she’s sad. She misses her brother dearly.

The door suddenly opens with a loud creak and John grabs Ada’s hand to pull her in before he shuts it again. She looks around curiously. The room is untidy and messy, not like Tommy’s. Actually, Tommy’s room is so tidy now that it doesn’t look like anyone lives there. She peeked in after Uncle Charlie collected him some things. But he only took a small bag, so the room shouldn’t look so eerily empty. It feels bad to go in there without Tommy and his old horse plushie that always stands guard on his bed.

„Were you crying?” she sees very well that he was, but for some reason she wants John to admit it.

„I wasn’t.” he lies and wipes his eyes with his hand as a tell-tale sign that in fact he was.

„What are you doing with Tommy’s blanket?”

Ada looks down at herself and blushes. She’s bundled up in the quilted blanket Mum made for Tommy ages ago.

„I stole it. It smells like Tommy. I’ll give it back to him when he comes home.” She explains and buries her face in the soft fabric to take a deep breath. It’s almost like when she climbed into his brother’s bed to hide with him under the blanket when Mum and Dad were screaming and throwing things at each other. Tommy always told him the best stories on those nights, and he never said that Ada is too old for them.

John mumbles something but she can’t hear it.

„What?”

„He won’t be back.” John almost yells but he doesn’t look angry, not like Dad, just extremely sad. „He won’t be back because he’s going to die like Mum.”

„Shut up, John!” Ada wants to scream at him, but there’s a big lump in her throat and all she can manage is a strangled whisper. „Don’t say awful things like that. Aunt Polly said he’s going to be fine and we can visit him a few days later.”

„Aunt Polly is a liar! They all are! They lied about Mum and now they lie about Tommy but Dad told me –„ John stops abruptly and Ada doesn’t understand anything.

He steps closer and pulls her into a clumsy hug. Ada wants to protest because John was mean to her but she just melts into it in the end.

„Sorry, Ada. Dad is just a prick again.” He whispers into her hair.

„Why did you say they lied about Mum and Tommy?” She asks and doesn’t care if she sounds whiny.

„I don’t know. I’m sorry.” John tightens his arms around Ada who reciprocates it with all her strength. „I shouldn’t even believe anything that Dad says.”

„Do you really think Tommy is going to die?” Her voice is barely audible, as if only saying it could make her worst nightmares real.

„I have no idea. I hope not. I don’t want him to.”

„Me neither. I want him back.” Ada can’t hold her tears back any longer, but John is there and he doesn’t push her away when she’s sobbing for almost an hour and his jumper gets completely soaked. By the time she calms down and they settle on John’s bed, the house is silent again. Aunt Polly and Dad must have stopped shouting at each other. They hear her footsteps on the corridor and she knock on the door quietly.

„John, are you there? Is Ada with you?”

John clears his throat. „Yes. We’re both okay. She fell asleep in my bed.” Ada looks up at him with with big, hopeful eyes and wishes he would let her stay. „She can sleep here until morning.” He continues and Ada smiles at him brightly.

„Fine. Your father went to the pub. I locked the door, he can’t come back. Good night John.”

„Good night, Aunt Polly.” John answers and pokes Ada’s side the moment their aunt retreats to her room. „You’re supposed to be asleep. So unwrap yourself and let’s hide under Tommy’s blanket the way you do it with him.”

„Okay.” Ada does as she’s told and lifts the corner of the blanket. She immediately curls up against John’s side when he settles. „But you can’t stay unless you tell me a story like he does.”

John scoffs and tugs at her hair lightly. „It’s still my bed, you know. I can kick you out if I want. And you’re too big for a story.”

„But you won’t because you love me. Tommy always says one can never get too old for a good story. So do it, or I’ll tell him you stole his blanket when he comes home.” She threatens him halfheartedly and lays her head on her brother’s chest.

„You remember you stole it, don’t you?”

„I do, but Tommy will believe me whatever I say. I’m the only girl. I’m special to you all.” She says smugly and they finally bury themselves under the soft, warm blanket giggling.

They let themselves forget all their troubles and find solace in acting like carefree children again, just for a night.

----

The morning finds Polly in the kitchen. She took care of Finn, prepared everything for the other’s breakfast and arranged to have someone with the children when she goes to the hospital later. Her brother hasn’t come back from the pub yet. Her thoughts wander back to the previous evening.

She was met with the unmistakable smell of whiskey and her brother’s self-righteous voice as he was lounging on the couch lazily.

„Ah, here’s Saint Polly, savior of lost and hopeless children. Come, have a drink with me. I bet you need it, just don’t know if you want to celebrate getting rid of the little shit or cry your heart out.”

„Shut the fuck up, Arthur! What the hell has gotten into you to show up at the hospital like that, make a scene, hurt both your sons and leave a fucking razor blade under Tommy’s pillow?”

„Come on, woman, don’t pretend like I didn’t do you a favor.” Arthur Sr. grinned at her infuriatingly, and she wanted to grab the nearly empty bottle on the table to throw it at his head.

„You’ve done nothing to this family but brought shame on us. What kind of monster you must be to encourage your own son to kill himself?”

„Fucking hell, just tell me how he did it.” He poured a glass of whiskey and pushed it toward her before raising the bottle in a mocking gesture of a toast and drinking the left of it in one swig.

„He didn’t do anything, you bastard. Not that he didn’t want to, but he couldn’t hold the damn thing between his fingers. Arthur left him alone for just a few minutes when he thought he was sleeping and found him staring at it. God knows what he would have done had he not return in time.”

Arthur Sr. looked appalled and it gave Polly the slightest satisfaction. At least he didn’t get what he wanted, though it didn’t mean damage hadn’t been done.

„What? Is there anything in this world that lad can do well without messing it up? He’s worse than his mother, she finished the the job but her useless son can’t even do the simplest thing and end his piteous life.”

„Do you hear yourself, Arthur? Doesn’t your Bible have anything to say now? I’m surprised. He’s your son too, you heartless piece if of shit, whatever you’re trying to insinuate again. I’m fucking bored of your paranoia.” Polly was fuming. She’s got enough of her brother and his accusations. Everyone else would have been happy to have a son like Tommy but he always questioned his fatherhood as if the boy was a spawn of Satan. She had seen what his accusations had done to Sarah, and he definitely made Tommy feel unwanted by him.

„You all think I’m fucking blind but I see the truth, Polly. Always have. That boy is not mine.” Arthur Sr. slowly shook his head and there was an obsessed glint in his eyes, one that had been there for eighteen years and only got worse and darker as he had dismissively watched Tommy grow up.

„Like hell not!” She snapped.”Tommy is a Shelby to the bone, and he would have done anything for your love when he was younger. After what you’ve done, you would be lucky if any of the children wanted to see you again. We can try and protect John and Ada from the truth, and Finn is too small to understand anything, but they will see the change in Arthur. He won’t follow you like a hopeful puppy anymore who waits to be kicked again and again. You broke his heart, brother.”

„What do I care about hearts? I need my boys to grow into strong men, not whiny crybabies. Arthur is a disappointment. He showed his real face yesterday and I saw the devil’s touch in him.”

„Jesus Christ.” Polly interrupted. „Here’s the holy man again. Please tell me when you plan to do an exorcism on your children. Though I start to think you’re the one who needs it.”

„Shut the hell up, Polly!” He roared and took the glass of whiskey he initially offered to her. „Don’t you dare giving me parenting advice. Where are little Michael and Anna, eh? ’Cause I haven’t seen them for a while.”

Polly slapped him without a second thought and the sound of it echoed in the room for a long while. Or was it only in her head?

„Don’t you dare talking about my children.”

„Why? It isn’t my fault you lost your kids. It was my precious son you like to praise so much who fucked up your life, not me.” He sneered and got up to his feet, but she grounded herself and refused to take a step back. She wouldn’t surrender to anyone, especially her own brother.

„You can’t play with my mind, Arthur. I’m not your wife and I know you too well to see through your manipulation. Don’t you think I don’t know everyone’s role in this, or that I’ll ever forget.” Suddenly she felt calm, more like ever in the past weeks. „Now get out.”

„Don’t worry, I was about to leave anyway. It doesn’t mean that you won. And don't you fucking dare throwing me out of my own house. I’m tired of this fucking family and that wailing baby.” Arthur Sr. said and walked past her, pushing her aside on his way to the door. „I’ll go to the Garrison. I expect warmer welcome when I come back.”

„You’ll get what you deserve. Leaving as usual doesn’t make you earn it.” She called out after him

Polly is nursing a glass of gin in her hands as the events of last night replay in her mind. She knows it’s not a good idea to begin the day with drinking but she silences her rational part and takes a big sip of it. It doesn’t take long to empty her glass. She looks at her steaming cup of tea on the table and pours a little alcohol in it. It’s going to be a long day again. Why not give herself a little treat before the Shelby shit show starts again.

----

„Look at him, Charlie. Isn’t he a little beauty?” Curly grins at Charlie at the stables as the dim morning light showcases the heartwarming scene in front of them. A newborn foal wobbles on lanky feet around his mother in her stall. To both their surprise and delight, the little one looks almost exactly as the stuffed horse Tommy was carrying around as a kid.

Though at first Curly was worried about the old proverb that says ’One white stocking, buy him. Two white stockings, try him. Three white stockings, look away. Four white stockings, give him away.’, Charlie reminded him that they had horses with white feet before and they never had any problems with them. In the end it took another saying to calm him down: ’Make sure they have a bit of white to let the devil out.’

That seems to convince Curly that the foal is as perfect as he expected him to be and since that he can’t take his eyes off the happy little family, as he calls them. Charlie is just relieved that everything turned out well in the end and he doesn’t need to tell more bad news to Tommy. The last thing he needs now is tragedies in the stables as well.

„I didn’t think he would make it Charlie, I’m telling you now. Breech births are always dangerous.” Curly nods to himself but doesn’t take his eyes off the horses.

„Aye, they are. But we did what we had to. We helped them and he’s fine, against all odds.” Charlie can’t stop thinking of Tommy. He should have been here last night, the young mare trusts him the most and he could have calm her even better than Curly. He was all that Charlie saw when he eventually had to take hold of the foal’s thin legs and pull it out, and he was staring at his hands and shirtsleeve covered in red, just like on that night when he wrapped towels around Tommy’s arms and lifted them above his head to stop the blood pulsating from his wounds. He had to blink away the memories but he knew they wouldn’t go away until he has a chance to shower and dress in clean clothes.

„I miss Tommy. He should be here to share this moment with Thagarni. She loves him, I bet she wants to introduce little Toma to him.” Curly interrupts his trail of thoughts.

„Toma?” Charlie lifts an eyebrow and looks at the other man questioningly, who answers him excitedly.

„Yes, yes, it’s Thomas in Romani, I know it. I wanted Tommy to name the foal but I think it would be nice to call him that. Don’t you agree, Charlie?”

„I know what it means. And it’s actually a good idea, Curly. Very kind of you.” He pats Curly’s shoulder and suddenly feels overly emotional.

„It’s because little Toma looks like Tommy’s plushie, and I wan’t him to feel better. I don’t like it when he’s sad or hurt.”

„Me neither. He’s very sad and sick now, you know. I’m afraid it will take a long time until he can come here to see the foal with his own eyes. But I’ll take a photo to show him. I’m sure he will love it.” Charlie says with a heavy heart and wonders for the thousands time how the hell did things got so bad.

„Is it true he hurt himself? His dad told me before he threw me out of the house and slammed the door at my face. I don’t like him, Charlie. He’s not good to those kids, and he doesn’t love Tommy. He should love him even more than we do, and he’s nowhere near to us.”

Curly anxiously wrings his hands and it reminds Charlie how fidgety Tommy is. His fingers always pick at something, especially when he’s uncomfortable. But he can’t do that now. His fingers don’t obey him like they did.

„It’s true.” Charlie sighs. He’s been thinking a lot about how much he should share with Curly, but all he can come up with is the truth. He wouldn’t tell the gory details, but there’s no point of lying. It’s not like Tommy or his family should be ashamed of what happened, whatever Arthur Sr. thinks. He doesn’t want to put another burden at the boy by making him feel guilty. What he’s done isn’t shameful, it’s a fucking tragedy, and only the adults around him can be blamed for it. Including Charlie himself, he thinks. „He was very sad after his mum died and he didn’t want to live anymore. He cut his arms and he’s badly injured now. But you should keep it in your mind that it wasn’t his fault, and whatever that bastard Arthur Sr. or the nosy folks in town say, we don’t judge him for anything.”

„I would never, Charlie. Never. He’s our Tommy. But you’re wrong.” He doesn’t know what Curly means by the last sentence but he waits for him patiently to elaborate it. „He’s been sad for a long time, you know? I saw it when I was watching him with the horses. In the way he petted them. He was searching for their comfort and hugged them for a long time, and they always hugged him back in their own way. I know they all love Tommy.”

„Yeah, they do. They’re wiser creatures than us foolish humans.”

Charlie really means it. How could he be so blind that he didn’t see what the horses and Curly did? It was his mother’s death that pushed Tommy over the edge, but he’s been standing there for a long while. And nobody was there to catch him when he fell.

----

It’s late afternoon and Tommy feels knackered, which is ridiculous considering that he hasn’t done anything all day. Aunt Polly arrived a couple hours ago and immediately announced after a quick, stiff kiss on his face that she must go home before six because Freddie’s mum can’t stay longer to keep her eyes on John and Ada and take care of the baby. Arthur told him she was here before and talked a lot with doctors and nurses to keep the family updated. Yet her distance hurts a lot. Tommy knows he doesn’t deserve anyone’s sympathy and he doesn’t expect it from her either. He wants to apologize her, it would be so nice to hear she isn’t angry at him, but he knows she would never say that. She’s angry and disappointed in him, and she can’t hide it as well as Uncle Charlie and Arthur does. Aunt Polly hates weakness more than anything, and giving up is weakness. But he’s relieved she hasn’t mentioned Dad or tried to talk about what happened between them yesterday. He doesn’t want to, though Dad’s words are on repeat in his mind, every single one of them feels like a stab with a knife.

Nobody would miss you. You should have died. You should finish what you started.

There is another reminder, a permanent, sharp pain in his left arm for a while now, even if he still can’t feel anything else at all. Maybe it has never left since Dad’s cruel grip, just faded in the haze of whatever they gave him for the pain. He wishes there was something to ease the aching of his soul as well.

Aunt Polly mostly talks about Finn, and although Tommy loves him, he can’t imagine what a two months old baby can do that takes so long to tell. It looks like Arthur agrees with him, since he interrupts their aunt and asks her to tell something about the others.

„What do you think, Arthur? Of course they’re scared and worried about Tommy.”

Tommy wishes to be swallowed by the ground. He hurt his little siblings. How can he be so selfish and unfeeling? Dad is right. How could he deserve to live when all he does is causing pain to those who love him?

„I bet they can’t wait to see you, Tommy.” Arthur says loudly. „They’re gonna be over the moon when you get a little better and they can visit you.”

He’s lying to make him feel less worthless, Tommy knows. John and Ada must hate him. He let them down when they needed him.

„We’ll see.” Polly sounds off and he thinks he understands why. She must be tired of him. „They can if it’s good for them and Thomas as well.”

„How wouldn’t it be good for them?” Arthur protests and they start an argument Tommy doesn’t listen to.

He just wants to die here and now.

He only emerges from the dark vortex of his thoughts when the door opens and a young nurse he vaguely remembers from earlier that day comes in with a small metal cart with various items on it.

„Good afternoon, Thomas, it’s nice to see you’re better than the last time I was here.” She says and lightly pats his shoulder after positioning the cart beside his bed, then nods in the direction of Arthur and Aunt Polly in a silent greeting. „I’m not sure you remember me, but I’m Nurse Brown and came to clean your wounds and change your bandages. Your brother and aunt can stay here if you want or we can ask them to step outside for a while. Whatever is comfortable for you.”

They all look at him expectantly and it bothers him a lot. It’s the first time someone asks him something like this, the older nurse simply sent Arthur or Uncle Charlie out when she felt his uneasiness. He doesn’t want anyone to see what he did, not even this nurse, which is ridiculous because it’s her job, she’s probably seen much worse things. But he doesn’t want to be all alone now.

„I want Arthur to stay.” He says quietly and thinks he sounds like a stupid little boy.

„Sure, Tommy. I’ll stay if you want.” Arthur immediately promises and his voice almost suppresses Polly’s exaggerated sigh.

„Fine, then. I’ll wait outside and call your uncle. He’s going to be back for the night.”

The nurse nods at her and reorganizes some tools on the cart until Aunt Polly closes the door behind her.

„Alright, let’s begin with your leg.” She says cheerfully and lifts the blankets from Tommy’s left leg. It makes him shiver when the cool air hits him.

„What? What’s wrong with his leg?” Arthur asks and stares at his brother’s leg intensely.

„Nothing to worry about, it’s just the site of endoscopic vein and nerve harvesting for the grafts his left arm needed. They used the saphenous vein and the sural nerve since they're located close together.” Nurse Brown gently turns Tommy’s leg a bit so Arthur can see it. „They made two small incisions, one below his knee and another above his ankle, you see? It’s a minimally invasive technique compared to traditional open vein or nerve harvesting.” She explains way too enthusiastically, at least in Tommy’s opinion.

Another shiver runs through him but at least it reminds the nurse why she’s there.

„Oh, I’m sorry, Thomas. Let’s finish this before you freeze.” She quickly but thoroughly cleans his wounds. „Is there any numbness or pain?”

„Nothing unusual.” Tommy shrugs and averts his eyes. He stares at Arthur’s nervously bouncing knee until the nurse is done and covers his leg again. At least she tucks the blankets under his feet, so it feels like a warm nest.

Nurse Brown drops her gloves in the waste bin and perches herself on the edge of the bed.

„Here comes the harder part. You don’t have to look, sweetheart. It can be quite an upsetting sight, so I suggest not to do. You can keep your lovely eyes on your brother there. What a luck he’s here to help you.”

Arthur forces a smile on his face that never reaches is eyes. He plants himself on a chair next to the bed.

„I know I’m nowhere near compared to you, brother, especially with this pretty black eye, but you have to make do with what you get. And today I’m the best you’ll get.”

Tommy doesn’t react at all to his poor attempt to joke but it elicits a small chuckle from the nurse as she organizes things on the cart again.

„I won’t lie, I barely notice how patients look after a long shift but those eyes are hard to forget.”

„Yeah. Mum always says…” Arthur’s voice slowly dies when his words make Tommy flinch.
Everything about Mum is in past tense now and it feels like losing her again. She will never say or do anything. It’s been two weeks since she’s gone but it still happens sometimes. Tommy has entirely refused to talk about her but he heard his siblings accidentally do it. A selfish part of him envies them a little. Maybe he would do the same if he didn’t see…
He squeezes his eyes shut and bites the inside of his cheek to keep his rising panic in bay until he tastes blood. He can’t think of that day. He doesn’t want to see her like that.

There’s a warm hand on his shoulder and he’s grateful for it. It helps to stay in the moment when darkness threatens to pull him down, like the muddy water pulled Mum down to the bottom of the cut.

„Are you okay, Tommy?” It’s Arthur. He always helps when he can and tries even if he can’t.
Tommy opens his eyes and nods. He’s here. In this damn hospital room. Not by the cut. Mum isn’t here. All that was left of her was ashes.

He desperately tries to hold onto Arthur’s familiar gaze to ground himself. He doesn’t want to go back there. Doesn’t want to be here either, but everything is better than the cut and –

„You’re here, brother. With me. Don’t wander anywhere else in your head.”

They always say things like this. Arthur and Uncle Charlie knows what’s in his head. It’s confusing because it means they should understand why he wanted to escape. It’s a fucking torture to live with his thoughts these days.

Nurse Brown’s eyes dart between Tommy and the annoyingly beeping monitor until it quietens, then she forces on a smile again, even though they all know it’s fake.

„Fine. Can we start, Thomas?”

Tommy gives her the smallest nod. It’s not like it matters what he wants. He would be gone if it did, to be with Mum. He doesn’t fully get it why the sight of something he did to himself would be upsetting. His eyes wander to the nurse’s hands from his brother while she carefully unwraps the bandages from his right arm.

„Shit, Tommy, look at me.” Arthur warns him when he lowers his gaze. „Up here, right?”

The nurse probably sense he can’t keep himself from looking for long because she nods in the direction of his old stuffed horse sitting on the bed as she pull on a fresh pair of disposable gloves and starts cleaning the wounds.

„I see you like horses, Thomas.”

Tommy’s eyes drift at her face and nods sheepishly.

„Don’t be embarrassed, most patients have plush animals, even those who are way older than you. We find it’s good for their mental health to seek comfort in things like this. Do you ride?”

Another nod. Somehow he can’t find any words in himself, even if he would like to talk about horses with her.

„I do it too, though not as often as I would like. And I’m not very good at it.”

„Oh, our Tommy is the best rider in Birmingham. Haven’t seen him fall once since he was seven. Horses love him.” Arthur chimes in, but his words don’t have the affect he’s been waiting for.

Tommy’s thoughts drift away to places and things he doesn’t want to remember but can’t stop thinking of.
He sees Mum when she and Uncle Charlie was teaching him how to ride when he was very small and her smile was brighter than the sun above them.
He feels her arms circling around him protectively and hears his own giggling as they were riding her favourite horse together.
He sees her face when she cheered by the fence and looked at her with pride in her eyes after he won his first eventing.
He remembers all those days when they were riding by the canal and she was happier.
Riding always made her so happy.

Not much riding in the future with those crippled arms.

What if Dad is right and he can never ride again? What will he do if they simply don’t let him die but his fucking arms can’t be fixed? What will he do if loses the only thing that truly made him happy on his darker days and what he loves doing more than anything else? How could he survive losing the last thing that connects him with Mum?

„…Thomas? Thomas, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

He blinks heavily and sees Nurse Brown and Arthur’s worried face. Everything is blurry and it’s hard to breathe, so very hard like life itself, and he’s so sick of it all already. He feels bile rising in his throat and the nurse must sense something because a kidney dish appears in front of him just in time before he throws up.

„Shit, Tommy.” Arthur mutters and gently brushes the hair from his damp forehead as he leans back against the pillow with burning eyes. He is still gasping for air.
He feels the nurse adjusting the nasal cannula under his nose and explain something about increasing oxygen and giving him medication but he can’t really pay attention until he feels like he can breathe again.

When Tommy finally open his eyes and blinks away his tears, Nurse Brown already removed the splint from his left arm and most of his bandages. There is barely anything left to cover his wounds. He feels foggy but still can see the white fabric is stained with blood.
Neither she nor Arthur notices that Tommy is watching as she carefully peels off the last layer and his wounds unfold before him in full horror. He must make some sound because Arthur suddenly turns to him with barely masked shock and probably disgust.

„Fuck, brother, don’t look there.” He says nervously and moves to block the view from Tommy.

But it’s late, he already saw it. His arm looks like it belongs to Frankenstein’s monster, like it’s stitched together from different parts that were collected from several corpses and a mad scientist mixed them up. All his wounds he remembers carving into his skin are there, some of them still oozing blood and some other liquid. The entire limb is swollen and discoloured, various shades of purple and red melt together in a gruesome cacophony of colours. He swears he could see the darker marks of Dad’s fingers.

It’s repugnant and sickening. Everyone will see it, and they will know his soul looks the same.

„I need to call Dr. Williams.” He hears the young nurse’s nervous voice and immediately knows that things are even worse than they seem.

Chapter Text

Charlie’s heart is pounding in his throat when he returns to the hospital at the evening and finds his nephew’s room empty. Tommy’s nowhere to be seen.
A multitude of different scenarios play in his mind as he collapses onto a chair in the hallway. He buries his face in his hands and tries to pull himself together.

What if Tommy tried something again? He can’t think of much things that doesn’t acquire working hands but the lad is resolute and clever enough to come up with something, he’s sure about that. What if that fucking heart condition got worse, could that kill him? He can’t remember what Arthur said, he was so confused and lost anyways, and Charlie hasn’t spoken to the doctor himself. He’s not even sure they would tell him anything, he’s not real family. Maybe that middle-aged nurse who thought he’s Tommy’s father. Fuck, his heart could have simply stopped like before, when he nearly bled to death. Maybe he did something and he’s bleeding again, and they can’t stop it this time or he doesn’t have enough blood after losing more than half of it. Maybe he’s already dead but nobody told Charlie since they don’t know what Tommy means to him. He knows Sarah put him on the boy’s emergency contact list before her husband, ever since he started daycare, and he picked little Tommy up more than once when he was too young to hide if he didn’t feel well or when he was beaten by bigger boys who bullied him. Though he doesn’t think it matters here. Who would be the first on that list now that Sarah is dead? Who would they call from the hospital if Tommy died and they weren’t here? Arthur? Polly? Hopefully not his father, not after seeing what he’s done the other day. Sadly not Charlie, who is nothing more than a friend in the world’s eyes. He rubs his face angrily. Fucking hell, he shouldn’t have wasted half a day with sleeping. He should have come back right after the foal was born and he took a shower.

He can’t break down. He can’t.
Charlie knows he’s ridiculous. Perhaps nothing bad happened.
He takes a deep breath and tries to recall what he saw. Tommy’s stuffed horse and book was still on the nightstand. They wouldn’t leave them there if he died, would they? Fuck. He needs to collect himself.

He fishes his phone out of his pocket to call Arthur but he can’t reach him. The battery must be dead by now.
What’s the use of these damn things?, he thinks and throws it at a chair. At least the older ones lasted much longer before they needed to be charged.

His head immediately shots up when he hears the sound of familiar, long strides. It’s Arthur, even more worn out and exhausted than last night when Charlie left.

„Arthur, what the hell happened? Where’s Tommy?” He can’t contain his fear and it escapes in a desperate question when Arthur slumps next to him with a heavy sigh.

„I don’t fucking know what’s going on. He was taken for a CT, that’s all my stupid brain can remember but the doctor mentioned some other things too. They think something is wrong with his left arm. A nurse came in to clean his wounds and change bandages, and I was glad because Tommy wanted me to stay. She suggested him not to look and we tried to distract him and started to talk about horses but it didn’t help much. I guess Tommy had a panic attack during that, he even vomited and was gasping for air and everything. He only settled when the nurse increased his oxygen and gave him more meds to calm down, and then he looked like he wasn’t there for a while. But of course he had to come back when she unwrapped his left arm and it looks fucking awful, Charlie. I only noticed he was looking when he made a strange noise, something like a whimper and it sounded fucking sad, scared, painful and disgusted at the same time and I tried to block the view from him but it was already late. I’ve never seen anything like that. It looks… fucking mangled and barbaric. How can you see anything else but his arms when you look at him? You found him, you saw how he butchered himself. It’s all I fucking see now. All those fucking stitches, seeping wounds and sickening colours, and it’s so swollen I could barely see his wrist, and I don’t know if I can–

„Arthur!” Charlie grabs the young man’s shoulders and squeezes them as he searches for his gaze. „Stop this shit. He’s your little brother. The same Tommy you have always known. The baby who was so small you couldn’t believe he’s real when I showed you the first photo that was taken of him. He’s the little boy who followed you like a shadow and the brother who’s been looking up to you all his life and who needs you, now more than ever. Those fucking wounds are not our Tommy. They are going to be part of him for the rest of his life, and I would pray to every fucking god on this Earth to let it be a long life. But we’re going to see through them because we know Tommy and we love him, and it’s going to be fucking hard for him to accept not only the fact that he couldn’t kill himself, but the visible reminders of it as well. Because everybody will know where those scars are from, and he will remember that fucking night every single time he looks at his arms. We can’t make it worse with staring or averting our eyes or whatever we'd like to do instead of facing the horror of them. But we’ll remember something else: that Tommy survived this hell and he’s still with us."

As soon as Charlie says those words, he knows he really means them. If Tommy… no, not if, when. When Tommy heals enough to get rid of bandages and his scars will be at full display, he won’t look away and be damned if he lets the boy be ashamed of them.

„I know.” Arthur whispers in a broken voice. „He’s Tommy. He’s my little brother and he wanted to die, and fucking called our worthless Dad instead of me or you before he slashed his arms. Did you know that? Tommy called that bastard and he didn’t answer. His own son, on the day of our mother’s funeral.” An awful wailing erupts from Arthur and Charlie pulls him into a tight hug.

„Shh” He starts stroking the back of Arthur’s head, who is sobbing now. „I know, Arthur. I know. It’s too fucking much, eh? You lost your mum, and then this happened to Tommy, and your dad wasn’t there to help. But you’ll get through this, and we’ll help your brother. Together, okay?”

„Why the fuck did Tommy call him? Why not us? Why did he lock himself in the damn bathroom with a package of razor blades and his misery instead of reaching for my fucking hands to hold?” The aforementioned hands are gripping the back of Charlie jacket like a lifeline. „Did he think I would let him down? Did I ever let him down before this shit? Am I such a bad big brother?”

„No, lad. You never let him down. Never. And you’re the best brother anyone could dream of, I swear.” Charlie swallows hard. „But I think Tommy didn’t want anyone to hold his hand that evening, or at least that’s what he thought. He called your dad because he knew that man wouldn’t move a finger to stop him, and that’s exactly what he thought he needed to do what he wanted. One last fucking kick when he was already down to give himself the courage or hopelessness to take a razor blade in his hand and make the first cut.”

„Yeah, and many more that followed. How could he do that to himself? I know it’s worse for him than the rest of us. I know he saw… he saw Mum dead after she was floating in the cut for two days, and it fucking haunts him, and I can’t do anything to make him forget. I would rip the memory from his mind and take it myself if I could.” Charlie hugs Arthur tighter when he says that. „But how much suffering it takes to choose this amount of pain deliberately? What did he feel if it was his best option?”

Charlie sighs heavily and wishes he was a man of words who can always say the right things.

„I can’t answer that, Arthur. I’m not sure Tommy could do it himself. I guess he couldn’t think clearly at all since we found your mum. He went that far because he couldn’t see any other way to escape but death. And he didn't think he would survive.”

A nurse gives them a sympathetic look when her eyes meet Charlie’s as she walks past them. It’s a clear sign of Arthur’s distress that he doesn’t straighten up despite noticing they’re not alone.

„What will he do if he can never use his arms the way he did before, Uncle Charlie? It will kill him if he can’t ride again.” Arthur whispers quietly.

„That lad couldn’t be stopped from riding even if didn’t have arms at all.” Charlie lets out a mirthless laugh. „He can ride bareback and without a bridle, I’ve seen it many times. He’s going to ride again and accommodate to what he must, whatever happens. I know. I’ll fucking drag him to the stables and help him up on a horse myself if I have to, and do it again and again if he falls, but I won’t let him lose this too. I promise.”

„I’m fucking scared, Uncle.” Arthur whispers, as if admitting a shameful secret. „I’m scared of losing him, and I mean not only actually losing him but if he won’t be my Tommy again. Like what happened to Mum. She was gone before she died. And I’m scared to think of how many things can go to hell yet, and that fucking evaluation Aunt Polly talked about with the doctors. I don’t want anyone to label my little brother crazy. He’s not.”

„I know he’s not. Nobody thinks he is crazy. But he can’t deal with this shit on his own, lad. What proof do you need after what he’s done? And your father only made it worse. I don’t like this at all either. I don’t want to send him away because I know it would make him feel betrayed and unloved. Though it’s not my decision to make in the first place, I know the only real betrayal would be not sending him away. He needs help, and we must make sure he gets it, whether he wants it or not. Because we can’t fucking lose him.”

Arthur is quietly sniffling for a while and Charlie suddenly sees a little boy before his eyes instead of a grown up man, who was sitting on his lap and crying when his baby brother was sick. In a way, Arthur is still that same boy. There’s a childlike purity under all that bravado not even his father’s influence could have erased. Eventually, he unfolds from the embrace and wipes his tear stained face with his sleeve.

„Thanks, Uncle Charlie. I don’t know how you always know what to say but your a fucking genius. I feel much better.”

Charlie shakes his head and thinks back of the morning with Curly.

„I’m not, lad. It’s just good to listen to what others say sometimes and pour your heart out. I always get the best advice from Curly.”

„Then Curly is wiser than most of Small Heath thinks.” Arthur says with a crooked grin.

„He is. But I’ll try my best too. So if you need to talk, come to us. I’ve told you before, but I really mean it. I’m here for you all, Arthur, if you want it. And John and Ada can go to the yard to see Curly anytime they want. Maybe he couldn’t take care of the baby like Freddie Thorne’s mother, but I bet he would cheer them up a bit.” Charlie pats Arthur’s shoulder one more time before he straightens up with a grimace. „These fucking chairs are torturous. Where’s your aunt?”

„Searching for a decent cup of coffee or tea instead of that shit from the vending machine.”

„Okay. Then it can’t take much longer. How about a smoke?” He offers not entirely selflessly, since he would die for a cigarette at the moment. „You look like you need it, man, and I’m sure I do, too.”

„But what if they bring Tommy back and I’m not here?” Arthur looks so lost like a puppy.

„It will only take five minutes. we’ll be back before them. Besides, Tommy would never deny a good smoke from you.”

Arthur nods, and they slowly walk to the small smoking area outside of the hospital. They’re so lost in their thoughts that none of them notices Polly when they walk past her in the entrance hall.

----

Polly carefully smooths her skirt as she sits down by her nephew’s bedside. Maybe she should have told Arthur and Charlie that Tommy was taken back to his room when she saw them going out, probably for a smoke. But she wants to talk to him in private. Arthur should go home and sleep anyways. He must go back to work next week, no matter how understanding Harry is. It’s better to get used to some distance between the boys, considering their future plans. He can’t sit here day and night to hold Tommy’s hand.

She watches in silence as a young nurse inserts a new IV cannula in Tommy’s upper arm with practice and connects a new bag of antibiotics to it before securing it with a tape. Tommy is eyeing his left arm, the source of all this trouble, and a small wince is all his reaction. Polly already knows from the doctor that there are signs of infection, and they try to fight it off before it has a chance to get worse.

„Don’t worry, darling, everything will be fine.” The nurse affectionately rubs Tommy’s shoulder and Polly can barely contain herself from rolling her eyes. As if someone after a failed suicide cared about such empty reassurances.

The young woman turns to Polly with a polite smile.

„We’ll get the results within an hour or two. Dr. Williams will be back before that, though. There’s something he wants to talk about with Thomas.”

Polly nods. Tommy doesn’t react at all. The silence stretches longer and longer even after the door closes with a quiet click.

„You can tell me what you think, Aunt Polly.” Tommy’s voice is barely audible. He shifts uncomfortably and raises his eyes at her. „You don’t have to be nice.”

It hit Polly more than she expected when she saw him awake for the first time earlier this afternoon. His sickly pallor, sunken cheeks and hollow, alarmingly empty eyes made him look like a ghost. If possible, he looks even worse now.

„I don’t know what you mean, Thomas.” Her voice is sharper than she intends. She tries to hold on to her sympathy and love but they’re hiding under growing frustration. „I’m here with you. I arranged to stay as long as I need tonight, at least until we get the result of your CT. What’s your problem with me now?”

„Nothing.” Tommy swallows hard and repeats to himself. „It’s nothing.”

Polly sighs and leans closer to stroke his disheveled hair with her fingers. She makes sure to sound kinder the next time she speaks.

„You know I see through you if you try to lie. Tell me what’s wrong, Tommy.”

„It’s just that I think I remember now. Was it you who found me? I think I heard you knocking and calling my name. And maybe Uncle Charlie.” He’s chewing at his lower lip and Polly bets he would be fidgeting if he could.

„What does it matter?” She sighs but Tommy only keeps looking at her waitingly. „Yes, it was us. You didn’t answer to my knocking and Charlie broke the door. Your siblings didn’t see anything, if that’s what you want to know. Not even Arthur. I told Ada and John you fell in the bathroom and accidentally cut yourself. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

„I don’t understand.” Tommy whispers and averts his eyes.

„What?”

„I don’t understand why you didn’t leave me there to die.” He looks up at her and his eyes are haunted. „It would have been so easy. For everyone.”

„Stop this nonsense this instance, Thomas!” Polly says firmly. „Only you would have found it easy.”

„And you? Wouldn’t you be relieved if you didn’t have to deal with me anymore? If you didn’t have to pretend loving me the same as before? Wouldn’t it feel good to know I payed for ruining your life?” Tommy suddenly sounds agitated and she knows he tries to provoke her. „It’s my fault your children were taken away. You trusted me and I fucked up everything with Michael. You should have let me go.”

„Stop!” Polly hisses. She is deeply shaken by his words but refuses to let him see it. „Don’t try to make me justify what you did to yourself, Thomas. We are Shelbys. We don’t fucking give up. We shake ourselves and carry on, whatever shit life throws at us.”

„But I can’t carry on. I tried so hard but I fucking can’t. What does it make me then?” There are tears welling in his eyes and Polly can see he tries hard to hold them back. „Dad was right to call me a failure.”

Polly lets out an exaggerated sigh and cups his face. Tommy tries to pull away but she doesn’t let him go.

„Your father can go to hell. I haven’t heard anything from that man’s mouth that makes sense for almost two decades. Think of your mother, then. Do you think she would want you to follow the same path that led her to the fucking cut?” He suddenly flinches like her words hit him. „I think it would break her heart if she saw what you did to yourself. Your eighteen, your life is about to start. You could go to university in September, Tommy. Isn’t that what you’ve been working for for years? Isn’t it what your mother always wanted for you? Would you throw all your dreams away? She would have never expected you to take the easy way out and leave your siblings alone.”

A single tear escapes from Tommy’s eye and Polly wipes it away with her thumb before she lets go of his face. He lowers his gaze and nods towards his arms.

„Do you really think it was easy, Aunt Polly?”

„No. But I know you made everything a hundred times fucking harder for yourself with this foolish suicide attempt.”

„I didn’t count on survival.” Tommy’s answer is so quiet Polly isn’t sure she heard well. But he looks up at her and his eyes don’t look lifeless anymore. They are full of betrayal.

Before she could say anything, the door opens and Dr. Williams enters the room, with an unfamiliar woman in tow. She wears ordinary clothes so she can’t be a doctor, but there’s something in her hand that looks like a chart.

„Good evening, Thomas. Mrs. Gray.” The doctor nods in their direction. „I wish the timing was better instead of this stressful evening, but Miss Davis has a busy schedule. We would like to talk about your father, Thomas.”

Chapter Text

Tommy doesn’t know what’s going on. Why is the doctor here with this woman? Miss Davies. He remembers her, though he doesn’t know if she recognizes him or not. He hopes not.

„Mrs. Gray, I would like to ask you to leave the room for a while.” Dr. Williams’ voice is polite but peremptory.

„What?” Polly asks in disbelief „Why would I leave? I’m Thomas’ aunt.”

„That’s why I think his well-being is top priority for you, Mrs. Gray. It’s possible that some of our questions make Thomas uncomfortable, and we would like him to be completely honest. A family member’s presence could incidentally influence his answers. Besides, he’s considered an adult. You can trust me when I say that I’ll make sure he’s in good hands, so will Miss Davies. We just have to discuss what happened between Mr. Shelby and his sons.” The doctor explains and it makes Tommy’s stomach sink.

He doesn’t want to talk about that. He doesn’t want to talk to these people at all. If he says anything about Dad, it will lead to other questions, and he can’t do that at all.
He trusted them with Michael and they took him and Anna away.
He can’t risk them taking John, Ada and baby Finn away. They can’t be separated.
But how could he lie when this doctor saw what Dad did? Tommy doesn’t remember much after Arthur left, just that he was suddenly back and everything hurt and he wanted his brother to stay. He thinks he saw the doctor’s long, strong fingers around his arm, red from his blood after Dad’s death grip disappeared.
And they saw the fucking razor blade too, the only useful thing Dad has ever done for him, even though if it wasn’t out of mercy but hate; and someone took it away and now he’s stuck here with no way out.

Nobody would miss you. You should have died. You should finish what you started.

Suddenly there’s a warm, heavy hand on his shoulder and it makes him shiver. He looks up and meets the doctor’s worried eyes.

„Are you with us, Thomas?” He asks and Tommy nods. „Do you know what I just asked you?”

What? What did he ask and when? Fuck, he shouldn’t let his thoughts wander. Aunt Polly stands by the end of the bed with arms crossed and looks at him expectantly

„W-what?”

Aunt Polly sighs irritably. Dr. Williams gives her a condemning look.

„I asked you if you would like your aunt to stay for our discussion. Personally, I think it would be easier for you if it was just the three of us. But it’s your decision.”

Tommy looks at him, then at his aunt who seems to be fuming. How would it be easier? Maybe she could help with lies. But the thought of being interrogated in front of her observing, judgmental eyes makes him uncomfortable. She would say he fucked it up. Like last time.

He shakes his head.

„Fine.” Aunt Polly snaps and it sounds everything but fine. She forces a smile on her face and pats his leg under the blankets. „I’ll be outside if you don’t need me, Thomas. I’ll search for your brother and uncle, God knows where they are now.”

„Thank you, Mrs. Gray.” The doctor calls after her as she opens the door. „Hopefully it won’t take long.”

Silence falls on the room. Tommy is eyeing a loose thread at the edge of his blanket. He would be fiddling with it by now if he could move his fucking fingers. He really messed up everything. He shouldn’t be thinking about it if he was dead. And he would be dead if Aunt Polly and Uncle Charlie hadn’t found him. He was an idiot to do it at home.

Dr. Williams clears his throat and pulls another chair to the bed. Miss Davies sits on the one Polly abandoned, and Tommy already feels cornered.

„Thomas, this is Laura Davies. She’s a social worker and she joined us to support you during this conversation and later if you would like.”

„We have already met. A couple months ago.” She says with a kind smile. „You’re poor little Michael Gray’s cousin, aren’t you?”

Fuck, she remembers him. It can’t end well. Everything will fall apart and his little brothers and sister will pay the price of his idiocy. Like Michael and Anna. He didn’t want them to be taken away from their mother. He only wanted to help. Michael was just crying and crying all day and Tommy did everything Aunt Polly said, but nothing worked and he didn’t know what to do…

Michael was crying and Tommy didn’t know what to do. Aunt Polly left some balm she made of comfrey and lavender oil, a jug of horsetail and turmeric tea and an impressive stock of over-the-counter painkillers she said was safe for kids. He gave Michael a pill he didn’t want to take, so Tommy crushed it and hid in jam as his Mum used to do when he was small. Michael tentatively licked the spoon.

„It’s good, isn’t it?” Tommy encouraged him. „Be a good little boy and swallow it, okay?”

The irony of the situation wasn’t missed. Tommy couldn’t even count how many times his family members tried to convince him to eat something. To his relief, Michael did what he told him and things were a little better for a while. But the crying started again sooner than it should had.

Tommy rubbed his forehead tiredly, willing away his increasing headache and wondering where the hell Polly was. He knelt down next to the couch with Polly’s balm in hand but Michael was crying so hard he didn’t even notice him.

„Come on, Michael. Let me put your Mummy’s magic balm on your wrist.” He tried to sound playful and gently reached for it but the only result was a loud scream in protest. The little boy pulled away from him with an accusatory look in his eyes.

„Go away! You’re evil!”

Tommy didn’t want to show how that word hit him. Of course Michael felt this way. He was hurt, and Tommy kept nagging him all day. He didn’t understand it’s to make him better.

„I want Mum!” Michael cried

„I know. She will be home soon. But she’s not here yet, so let me help you, okay? Mum will be so proud of you if you let me help. It will make you feel better, I promise. Do you know how many times your mum used this on me? It always helped.” Tommy stroked his cousin’s forehead and only then did he notice how warm it was.

„Fuck.” He muttered and turned to the little girl perched at the other side of the couch. „Anna, can you find a towel for me?”

She nodded and disappeared in Polly’s bedroom, while Tommy ran to the kitchen with a heavy heart to get something frozen from the fridge.

Two hours later Michael was still burning with fever, despite Tommy’s efforts to bring it down. He didn’t dare to give him more paracetamol, but tried to cool him down with a cold rag, wrapped an ice pack in a towel and put it on his swollen, purple wrist. He wished he could call his mom but she wasn’t well at all.
He tried to call Polly again. Nothing.
What should he have done?
He carefully bundled Michael in a blanket to protect him from the cold January air, dressed Anna in her coat and called a cab to go to the hospital.

„Are you listening, Thomas?” Dr. Williams looks at him with a concerned expression.

He nods.

„I asked if you remember what happened when your father visited you.”

Another nod.

„Has your father ever encouraged you to harm yourself in any ways before?”

„No.”

„I see. Has he ever hurt you or your siblings?” The doctor asks him and Tommy is sure he already knows.

„No.” He says hastily. „He didn’t even want to hit Arthur. it was just an accident.”

Shit, he needs to come up with better lies. He did better when he was five. But he feels so dizzy and tired. He just wants to be alone.

„Are you sure? Because it’s not what your brother said.” What? What did Arthur say? He couldn’t have been so careless to tell them about Dad.

„He said your father hit him in the face when he tried to pull him away from you and stop him from squeezing your arm. His injuries prove that he was hit at least twice if not more. I highly doubt we could call that an accident. Arthur also told me and the nurses who were present that Mr. Shelby told you…” The man flips through his notes. Why does he have notes about it? What is going on? „Let me quote verbatim: you should have died if you weren’t this fucked up. Nobody would miss you.”

Tommy winces as if someone has hit him. Why does it hurt to hear it again? He’s been repeating these words over and over again in his head. When will they stop haunting him? When will the power they hold over him go away so he can breathe again?

„That’s surely not something I would expect to hear from a parent. And I admit I have never heard anyone say things like that.” Dr. Williams looks at him expectantly. „But your father showed up here only after more than twenty hours, only to abuse you both verbally and physically and hide a razor blade under your pillow, the same thing you used against yourself. Did he tell you to kill yourself?”

He doesn’t say anything. What should he say? What could he say?
The social worker leans closer and tries her best to sound encouraging and caring. It doesn’t matter, Tommy knows it’s fake. Nobody cares about him but his family.

„You can talk freely, Thomas. Everything you say will stay between us. He doesn’t have to know what you say.”

It’s a lie. Nothing stays in this room. He didn’t even tell Dad broke Michael’s wrist, he said it was an accident and yet they took him and Anna away. If he says Dad beats him ever since he can remember, the same will happen to his little siblings

Tommy looked up from his textbook at the loud noise coming from kitchen.

„Michael, come back here!” He called out and waited to hear his cousin’s footsteps in vain. He got on his feet with a sigh to look for him.

Michael was standing on a chair, reaching for the wall cabinet, with shards of broken porcelain around him. He turned and smiled at Tommy mischievously.”

„Stay there,” Tommy warned the little boy wen he wanted to jump off the chair. I’ll clean it up before you come down. What are you searching for?”

„I don’t know.” Michael said and followed with his eyes as he carefully collected the pieces of what must have been a vase once.

„You could do that nothing in the living room just as well.” Tommy suggested and helped the five years old down from the chair to lead him back to his sister. „Come back and colour with Anna. I told you that I have to study a lot this weekend. I’m going to have an important and difficult paper to write tomorrow.

„But it’s boring.” Michael whined. „I want to do something exciting.”

„You can play something else, just stay in the living room and keep quiet, okay? Don’t go upstairs, Dad just got home from the Garrison and he would be angry at us if we woke him up.” He warned his little cousin and offered him a blank sheet of paper before he buried himself in his books and notes again.

„Can we play hunting?” Michael asked curiously.

„What?”

„John told me he has a rifle for hunting. Can I play with that?”

„No!” Tommy rubbed his eyes tiredly. „That’s not a toy, Michael. Stay here and draw, colour, fold origami animals, whatever, just stay quiet and alive, if possible.”

Everything was peaceful for a while. The rustling of paper and soft scratching of pencils and Tommy’s pen created a peaceful atmosphere. Then a blood-curdling scream cut into the silence and all hell broke loose. Tommy ran upstairs taking two at a time. He already heard Dad’s yelling at the bottom of it.

„How dare you sneaking around and mess with my rifle, you little shit?” Tommy got up and immediately ran to shield Michael, who was holding his wrist with tears falling from his eyes.

„Thomas? Can you answer to Dr. Williams?”

„He never hurt me before.” Tommy wants to sound confident but it’s just pathetic. They know he’s a liar.

„But he did when he visited you. You were already hurt and he made it worse, Thomas.” She looks at him with sad eyes and he hates to see the pity in them.

Silence. The doctor presses on, though Tommy just wants him to shut up and leave him alone. His heart is racing.

„You tried to commit suicide a few days ago, and it’s a miracle you survived. Hadn’t your uncle know how to slow down the bleeding, you wouldn’t have made it until the paramedics arrived. Your heart actually stopped, Thomas, and you were resuscitated twice. I know you don’t see it like this right now, but you’re very lucky to be here, so are those who love you. I hope the day comes when you will see it that way too.” Dr. Williams remains silent for a while to let his words sink in.

What? So he didn’t fuck it up so much after all. He succeeded. He did it. He actually died.
Tommy feels tears welling in his eyes. He was just stupid to do it at home. But it was Aunt Polly and Uncle Charlie who messed it up. Why the fuck did they have to drag him back to life? Why couldn’t they let him go?

„Do you need a break, Thomas?” The social worker asks fondly.

Yes, he needs a break from life. One that lasts forever. But he wants to be done with this fucking conversation. So he shakes his head.

„Do you want some water?” She asks and already reaches for it on the nightstand before Tommy would answer.

He shakes his head again. He’s thirsty but doesn’t want to accept any help from her. The doctor studies him thoughtfully and asks if they can continue. Miss Davies looks at Tommy questioningly, so he nods. Just finish it finally.

„You know, I looked at your medical files in more details today.” Williams says and it takes Tommy a second to realize where this conversation is going. „I noticed a few unnerving things and interesting accidents ever since you were really young. It was a huge mistake from our staff to to ignore the obvious that I see clearly now. I’ll have a few words with Dr. Campbell about that.”

Of course nobody cared about the Gypsy scum, he thinks bitterly. He wishes they were as ignorant now, too.

„I don’t know what you mean.” Tommy says so quietly he isn’t sure they could hear him at all.

„Let’s take a look at your file together, right? The last time you were here as a patient was three years ago, when you were admitted at the A&E with four broken ribs and suspicion of pneumothorax. You and your mother who accompanied you both stated it was a riding accident.”

Tommy still remembers listening to Mum’s crying and screaming through the haze of pain as he was lying on the couch, struggling to breathe. „I won’t sit still and watch my son suffer. Polly’s herbs and Gypsy practices aren’t enough here, he’s in agony. I don’t care the price I have to pay for it anymore, I’ll take him to the hospital.”
He sees now how dangerous it was. Mum broke the most important rule and let strangers see what was always supposed to be family business. She risked losing John and Ada as well. For him.

„It was.” Tommy whispers. He needs to pull himself together. He desperately wants to think of anything but Mum and searches his mind for the old story they made up. „My uncle has a scrapyard. There are a lot of iron and metal stuff piled up. I was stupid and didn’t go to...” Fuck, he can’t even say the word out loud. „…to the place where we usually ride, and I fell on something hard when my horse got scared of some loud noise and threw me off.”

„That’s interesting because your brother told Nurse Brown today that you haven’t fallen down since you were seven.” The doctor’s voice is still kind and calming but this whole conversation makes Tommy feel like a trapped animal. He doesn’t want to do this.

„Why should my brother know about every fall I had? I never told him about it, I simply didn’t tell anyone until I felt too bad to deal with it on my own. Things like that happen all the time with horses. You fall, get up and try again. It’s not a big deal.”

„Yes, I noticed you keep a lot of things secret, Thomas.” Dr. Williams exchanges a look with the social worker who’s been taking notes silently all along. Why is she taking notes? „Too many things, I dare say.”

„Why are we talking about this?”

„Because I think it puts what happened between you and him into context. But I’m willing to believe your explanation. Let’s talk about something else, then. Here. When you were twelve, you had a moderate concussion because you fell from the stairs at your home.” He turns the pages quickly. „A broken wrist, a dislocated shoulder, a fractured clavicle… you must have been a clumsy child if you had so many accidents. I also read that you were born prematurely. You spent ninety days in hospital, and I assume your mother built a deep trust with nurses and healthcare workers during that time. It’s strange that she took you to every required check ups for two years but your pediatrician barely saw you after that, except the routine immunization schedule and two times when you had pneumonia.”

Tommy just stares back at him in disbelief. Even he can hear it sounds suspicious. And what’s in those files is nothing compared to reality. Mum only took him to the hospital when Dad hurt him really badly and she was scared out of her mind. Dad knew how to control her with the fear of losing her children. So they relied on Polly’s practices when it came to illness and injuries.

„Before we say anything else, I would like to express my condolences.” Miss Davies adds and puts her hand on his upper arm. „I was informed by Dr. Williams that your mother recently passed away.”

Why did she have to talk about her? He doesn’t want to think of Mum. How did the smell of the cut get in here? It smelled like hospitals before, but now it reeks of mud and water full of rotten things, and Mum’s beautiful hair spreads like spilled ink on the ground, but that’s the only thing that still looks like Mum, and he can’t believe it when uncle Charlie says it’s her and she’s dead and don’t go there, and Charlie holds him so tight it hurts and he falls to the ground and the mud swallows him and he wants to go to Mum, she can’t be alone we can’t leave her just lying there, and don’t look at her, she’s gone, don’t look, Tommy, because she wouldn’t want you to remember her like that…

----

Charlie and Arthur are smoking their third cigarette when Polly joins them. She looks angry as she rummages through her handbag before she accepts Charlie’s offer and thanks him with a curt nod. The two man stays quiet as she exhales the first drag.

„What’s up, Aunt Polly?” Arthur asks nervously.

„Nothing.” She keeps her dark eyes on the slowly curdling smoke instead of looking at her nephew.

„Come on, Polly, we’re not blind. We see something is bothering you. Is it about Tommy? Do you know something about him?” Charlie joins in. It’s clear something upset her, they only need to find out what.

„Dr. Williams and a fucking social worker are talking to Tommy about your dad.” Polly nods at Arthur.

„What? So they're done with the tests? Why didn't you tell us before? And why is talking about Dad a bad thing?” Arthur looks like he doesn’t understand.

„Because it’s not just the two of you, Arthur!” Polly snaps at her nephew. „You have three little siblings, including a baby who isn’t three months old yet. Do you think the social service will let them under the same roof with your fucking father if Tommy tells them what he’s done to him? The fucking neighbors already keep their eyes on us, I bet they would gladly report if we left the kids alone for five minutes.”

Nobody knows what to say after that. They all think of Polly’s children, wondering where and how they are now.

Charlie gets so lost in his thoughts he doesn’t even notice Nurse Brown until she touches his arm.

„Mr. Strong, could you come with me? Thomas needs you.”

„Fuck.” Charlie mutters and hastily stubs his half-smoked cigarette.

„Should we all come?” Arthur asks with a strange mix of hope and desperation.

„No.” The young nurse smiles at him apologetically. „He asked for his uncle specifically.”

Good, it means he’s fine enough to ask, Charlie thinks and quickly pats Arthur’s back before hurrying back to the building.

„What the hell is going on?” He turns to the nurse when they reach the elevator. He can sense something is wrong.

„He’s having a nervous breakdown. He was panicking again and all that we could understand from what he was saying was your name.” She looks up at him with sad eyes. „Dr. Williams and Miss Davies, the social worker are with him."

Nothing more is said until they reach Tommy’s room. Charlie takes a big breath before he opens the door.

Two worried faces turn towards him, except for the one he really wants to see. The doctor is standing at the foot of the bed, while a woman he’s never seen before is sitting next to his nephew, soothingly rubbing his narrow back. Tommy himself is lying curled up in a ball, his arms positioned with care by someone and his face buried in his pillow. He’s shaking, and Charlie has seen him crying silently like this too many times when he was small and since Sarah’s death.

He sits at the edge of the bed and wipes the tears from Tommy’s face before he carefully embraces him. Charlie can only hear his muttered words when he leans really close. It’s an endless, painful mantra of grief that tears his heart out.

„Sostar voj geli? Sostar voj geli? Mukh man te źav, voj nashti te avel korkori. Sostar ni muklean man te źav, Papo Charlie? Me kamav te merav. Me kamav te merav. Me kamav te merav. Miri Dej muli. Voj si muli. Sostar voj muli?…”

Chapter Text

„What the fuck happened to my little brother?” Arthur demands angrily. He is sitting on a chair in Dr. Williams’ office, his leg is bouncing nervously and he’s burning with nervous energy.

The doctor is silently studying him from the other side of the table. There’s a woman he’s never seen before, and he assumes she must be the social worker Polly told them about. She introduced herself as Laura Davies.

„Please, calm down, Mr. Shelby.” The man says finally. „Unfortunately, Thomas had a nervous meltdown while we were discussing his case. I should have seen he wasn’t ready for that conversation yet, and I deeply regret pushing him to face the reality of his abuse. But that’s what it is. And I assume there are a lot of things that aren’t in his files.” He points at the open folder on his desk. Its thickness surprises Arthur. He didn’t remember Mum had to break the unwritten family rules so many times and take Tommy to the A&E.

„He was muttering in fucking Romani, the language he mostly used with our Mum, speaking about her. I just don’t fucking understand how he got in that fucking state.” Arthur rubs his eyes tiredly, and it flashes through his mind for a moment that Tommy can’t even do that simple thing now.

„Oh, so that was Romani? I speak four languages but couldn’t recognize any of it. Impressive.” The doctor seems excited and he can’t decide if he wants to laugh or punch him in the face. So he just takes a deep breath.

„Yeah, we’re Gypsies. I bet you couldn’t tell by looking at Tommy with his blue eyes.” He’s sure he will see disgust on the faces opposite him but it never happens. „Most people don’t like our kin.”

„Well, we’re in a hospital and it should not be allowed to anyone under any circumstances to judge our patients and their families. It sheds a different light on Dr. Campbell’s ignorance.” Dr. Williams exchanges a look with the social worker Arthur can’t read. He never met Campbell but heard Mum complaining about him more than once.

„I’m afraid it was at least partly my fault that Thomas got so upset.” She says apologetically. „I expressed my condolences on the death of your mother. That’s when he seemed to get lost in his head and started hyperventilating.”

„Yeah, Tommy can’t talk about our Mum at all, especially her death. I guess it was already bad if you mentioned her before. He was there when Mum’s body was found in the cut she drowned herself in. Uncle Charlie already pulled her out when Tommy arrived. I wasn’t there but Charlie said it was the most heartbreaking thing he’s ever seen. Tommy was fucking catatonic when he brought him home. He can’t fucking sleep, but you must have noticed that by now. We stayed with him every night, me and Aunt Polly, and then figured out he’s back to the cut and sees Mum like she was that day.” Arthur explains with a heavy heart.

„We gave him a mild sedative to help him settle down, but I see how well your uncle handled the situation. The nurses reported that you and he can calm Thomas down when he wakes up in terror relatively quickly.” Dr. Williams looks at him appreciatively.

„We have a lot of practice, unfortunately.”

„What happened to your family is a terrible tragedy. Were Thomas and your mother very close?” Miss Davies asks with concern.

„Yes, Tommy and Mum adored each other. Mum loved us all, but Tommy was special to her. Maybe to compensate for what Dad did to him, or because he was such a tiny little thing when he was born and Mum worried about him so much. Though I didn’t know it back then, I was three and thought everything about my baby brother was normal. Uncle Charlie told me he wasn’t finished yet, that’s why he needed those tubes and wires and couldn’t come home for so fucking long, And he really wasn’t ready, was he? I think every day with him and every milestone was like a miracle for Mum. I remember her crying on Tommy’s first birthday, and I didn’t understand because he was so fucking cute as he was playing with his little cake. I never envied that special relationship from him, neither did our little siblings. Tommy deserved it. After all the shit he’s been through.” Arthur said with a sad little smile.

„Can you tell us about your father’s relationship with Thomas?” The social worker asks and Arthur has to remind himself that it’s a good thing, he must trust these people to help Tommy. But another part of him is anxious and scared for a different reason, because what if Aunt Polly is right and they can take John, Ada and Finn away, just like her kids? But how could they help Tommy without knowing the truth?

„I don’t know. I guess I’ve been lying to myself and Tommy for years and made excuses for Dad. Saying that he loves him, all of us, just doesn’t know how to show it. How could I be so fucking blind and stupid? ’Cause he doesn’t, I understand now. If he loved Tommy, fuck, if he loved me, just a little bit, he would have never done that. I just…” Arthur rubs the back of his head. „I just can’t understand it. How can someone do that to his own son? To our Tommy?”

„It wasn’t your fault, Arthur. Can I call you that?” He nods. „You’re the victim of your father as well. The important thing is that you asked for help, and you’re there for your brother.” She reassures him and he suddenly feels like crying. „Can you tell when it started?”

„I don’t know. He never cared for Tommy. I remember our parents arguing a lot when we were really small but I don’t know what was that about, I didn’t understand shit. But I know Dad was yelling a lot, and he always pushed my little brother away when he crawled or wobbled to him on his tiny feet, and Tommy just looked up at him with his fucking big blue eyes and didn’t understand. I don’t know why I still remember that, maybe because that was the first time when I saw real disappointment on his little face, or I was disappointed in my Dad. ’Cause how could anyone not adore my Tommy, eh? Everybody loved him. I think he was two or three when Dad really beat us for the first time. We were supposed to go the church, like every fucking Sunday, but he was late and Mum told Aunt Polly she can go without us, we would follow her with Dad. But she had a migraine and fell asleep on the couch, and we sneaked out to play in the backyard. It was raining all night and we made a mess of our clothes, cause Tommy fell in the mud as we were chasing each other and I hugged him before he would start crying. And then Dad came home drunk and angry, and saw us covered in mud. He lost his shit, dragged us inside so the neighbors didn’t hear or see anything and gave us a good spanking, and when Mum woke up to our crying and wanted to protect us, Dad grabbed her by the hair and slammed her against the wall. Then he changed into the shirt and suit Mum ironed for him and went to the fucking church, while she was rocking us in her arms on the kitchen floor.”

Arthur doesn’t notice the tears running down his face until Miss Davies offers him a box of tissues. He thinks it’s ridiculous, why the hell does an old memory make him cry like a baby when much worse things happened to them? He can’t even count how many times. And now Mum is dead, and Tommy is in this damn hospital and can’t even be left alone because he’s so desperate to follow her. What the hell is Arthur supposed to do?

„Shit, I’m sorry.” He hastily wipes his tears away, completely forgetting about his injuries until he touches his black eye and broken nose.

„You don’t have to apologize for showing your emotions. You’ve been through a lot.” The woman says with a sad smile while the doctor is silently studying him.

Arthur takes a deep breath and shakes his head.

„Just get done with it. I’m fine. It’s not me who’s not fine.”

„Alright. But you can tell me anytime if you need a break and we can stop.” Miss Davies waits until he nods. „You said your father slammed your mother against the wall. Did he abuse her as well?”

„I think he did. I don’t fucking know. For us it was just… life. Normal. I always hated how he talked to Mum. Like she’s dirt on his shoes. I didn’t know how fucked up our family is until I saw our friends with their parents.”

Arthur thinks back with a heavy heart to how it hit him when he realised for the first time how different other families are. But he loved Dad. Maybe he still does, he admits shamefully. Does it make him a bad big brother? He would never let Dad anywhere near Tommy. But deep down in his heart, buried beneath all these fucking sorrow and pain, there’s still a flicker of love.

„But Mum tried to hide everything from us.” He continues without anyone asking a question. „She always protected us as much as she could. And she loved us so fucking much. She was a good mother, even when she was fighting with her demons.”

„Her demons?” Dr. Williams leans closer with curiosity.

„Dark thoughts or depression, I don’t know. I think it started after Tommy was born and she was so alone because Dad didn’t care at all. He wasn’t even in town when Tommy could finally come home. I remember that because Uncle Charlie took me to a toy shop while we were waiting for them in the car. We bought Tommy’s plush horse, the one that’s here with him.” The memory brings a smile to his face, as always. „But Mum always pulled herself together when we needed her. Always. Somehow it got worse later. Sometimes she couldn’t get up from bed at all. But Aunt Polly helped then, or she sent us to Uncle Charlie for a few days if it was summer.”

„Do you think your father did to her the same he did to Thomas? That he encouraged her to kill herself?” The doctor asks urgently, and the simple thought makes Arthur appalled.

„What? Fuck. I don’t know. I really don’t, after what he did to Tommy. I don’t know what he did to her.” He rakes through his hair with both hands.

„It’s okay, you don’t have to know. Tell me about your younger siblings.” The social worker takes the lead again. Arthur feels the past sleepless nights weigh on him heavily. He’s so tired.

„I don’t know what to say.” He sighs with a heavy heart. „They’re fine, I guess. We try to protect them as much as we can. Especially Tommy. I’m a fucking coward compared to him. John doesn’t buy Dad’s bullshit. He’s thirteen, and even he’s smarter than me. Dad mostly ignores Ada. I think he slapped her a few times but it’s mostly Tommy who gets her punishment. Sometimes even John’s. That’s fucking crazy. They fuck up something and Dad beats Tommy. He did it a few times to me, ’cause he knows it hurts me to see my little brother suffer, but the little idiot takes it voluntarily for them.” He shakes his head in disbelief. „We have a baby brother, Finn. He was born on February 9, and I’m not even sure Dad knows he exists. He only remembers him when the crying annoys him.”

„Who takes care of Finn since your mother’s death?” She asks and exchanges a worried look with Dr. Williams.

„Our Aunt. She moved in when Finn was born. Mum was in no state to take care of him properly, and it was good for Aunt Polly too, since…” He suddenly falls silent. He can’t talk about Michael and Anna. They probably know already, but he shouldn’t remind them. „Yeah, we all help with baby Finn. Tommy could always soothe him before Mum died. Ada brought him to Tommy a few times after that, but Tommy was either just staring at him with empty eyes or held Finn too tight.”

„What is your aunt’s role in this?” Arthur can’t read Miss Davies’ expression. He bets Tommy could.

„She takes care of us all, always has. She’s always been there for Mum too.” He shrugs. „She’s good.”

„What does she do for a living?”

„She has a little business, or something like that. She makes a lot of things with herbs, like teas, creams and traditional Gypsy stuff and sells them. Sometimes she reads cards to people.” The social worker scribbles down something and Arthur quickly adds. „But I have a proper job. I work at the Garrison. It’s a pub in Small Heath. My boss is a good man. He knows Dad and he’s very understanding if we have a family emergency. Like now.

„She’s your father’s sister, isn’t she?” Shit, where is this conversation going?

He nods nervously.

„Is she on his side?” Her blunt question confuses Arthur.

„What?”

„Your aunt. Has she done anything to protect Thomas or any of you, or help your mother? Or has she taken part in keeping the violence in your house a secret?” Miss Davies looks at him waitingly and suddenly he feels like it was a huge mistake to trust her.

„I already told you. She helped Mum. She takes care of us. She knows a lot about medicine, and…” He trails off. Is it dangerous to let them know Aunt Polly took care of their injuries more times than he can count? Would they see it as the help it was or complicity?

„And?” Fuck, why can’t she just let it go?

„And she helps us a lot. She keeps everything together.”

Dr. Williams has been silently scrutinizing him for a while now. He straightens in his chair and says something that catches Arthur completely unguarded.

„Would you and Thomas like to bring charges against your father?”

----

Charlie is sitting by Tommy’s bed, stroking his forehead and watching him blinking sleepily. Thankfully, he stopped crying a while ago, and Charlie tries to avert his thoughts from the darkness threatening him.

„I almost forgot to tell you, but Thagarni’s foal was born last night. He’s beautiful, Tommy. Looks exactly like your stuffed horse, can you believe it? Curly named him Toma, after you. He wasn’t born easily, just like you suspected. But he lives, and he’s strong.”

It looks like Tommy needs a few seconds to comprehend what he just said but at least he’s interested.

„I wish I was there.” He mumbles and Charlie doesn’t like how fucking tired and lost he sounds.

„Aye, Curly wished the same. You deserved to be there, but you can be later, to make sure little Toma becomes the best horse that ever set foot in Birmingham. Curly made me swear not to show you the picture I took of him yet. He said we need to print a real photo and put it in a frame, so you can keep it on your bedside table.”

Tommy doesn’t say anything for a long time. Charlie considers letting him sleep, he looks like he needs it. But when he’s about to drop their conversation, Tommy suddenly lifts his gaze at him and he seems more alert than before.

„Why?” It’s barely more than a whisper, but it tears at Charlie’s heart like a sharp knife. He knows what Tommy wants to know, he’s been dreading this moment for days.

„Why what?” God, please don’t say it. Please, ask something else, anything, just don’t hate me for loving you.

„Why didn’t you let me die?” Charlie wants to avert his eyes because it’s fucking unbearable to face the betrayal and raw pain radiating from Tommy. But he deserves an explanation if he wants it.

„Because I love you, Tommy. It’s that simple. We all love you. And I’m selfish enough to admit I can’t fucking bear the thought of losing you too.”

„Dad doesn’t.” The words are quiet but the weight of them is too much to carry alone.

„Your dad is a cruel bastard who doesn’t deserve you. Never did. I already told you, and I’ll tell you a thousand times if I need to. Do you understand me, son? He didn’t deserve your mother. He doesn’t deserve your siblings. And he doesn’t deserve a son half as good as you. He never will.”

„I should have died. Nobody would miss me.” Charlie already heard those words from Arthur. He told him that’s what Arthur Sr. told Tommy, and it makes his blood run cold to hear the boy echoing them.

„No, that’s some fucking bullshit your father planted in your head. Your brothers and sister would miss you terribly. So would your aunt, and Curly and your friends. Fuck, even horses. What would they do without their personal horse whisperer, eh?” He tries to smile even if he would like to cry.

„I really meant it. Still do.” Tommy’s voice sounds empty and resigned, and Charlie can’t decide if it’s the haze of meds or something worse, something that may got lost forever.

„I know. I know. And I know your grief is bigger than I can imagine. Not even your siblings can. Your life was already way too hard before that. But please, don’t let this fucking monster defeat you.” Please, don’t leave me like your mother did. Losing you would be like losing her again. You’re all I have left.

„I still want to die. I keep thinking about it. Could I move my fingers, I’d rip all the stitches out. Every fucking thing under my skin. I’d watch the blood pouring out until there’s nothing left but bones.”

Charlie is shocked by the sudden openness of Tommy. He doesn’t know if talking about it is a bad or a good thing. The only thing he know is that it scares him to death.

„Don’t do this to yourself, Tommy.”

„I should have fucking swallowed the razor blade Dad left. I think that’s what he meant. I bet it would have solved everything.” Tommy mumbles and closes his eyes.

„Jesus Christ, lad. Promise me you’ll never do that.” Charlie hopes for an answer that never comes. He keeps stroking Tommy’s head but his other hand nervously clenches in a tight fist. „Listen to me. You deserve to live. You deserve a good life. Much better than what you had.”

„I deserve to die. I want to die.”

Shut up, Tommy, please.

„You deserve better than that.”

Tommy opens is eyes again. Charlie hates to see how painfully empty they are.

„Sometimes death is a kindness.”

„Aye, when you put a gravely injured horse to sleep.” He snorts.

„Then imagine I’m a horse. You wouldn’t let a horse suffer.”

„You’re not a horse. You’re my…” Suddenly there’s a lump in Charlie’s throat and he has to clear it. „You’re my favourite nephew. I love you as my own son. I would take on all the suffering for you if I could, and I’ll be by your side all along, but don’t ask me to let you go. That’s the only thing I refuse to do for you.”

Charlie keeps his eyes at Tommy, wishing it was still as easy to make him happy as when he was a little boy. He lets himself get lost in the many memories they share together, and one day in particular comes to the surface.

„Do you remember when you were seven and I picked you up from school and we stopped at McDonalds for a Happy Meal?”

„You took me there many times.” Tommy mutters.

„It was when Ada was born. Some little shit bullied you and you said the teacher you feel ill, and they called me.”

Charlie was eyeing Tommy in the rearview mirror as he stopped at the McDonalds Drive Thru. It was a rainy day, and he was absentmindedly drawing a horse with his finger on the steamy window.

„Did the bigger kids hurt you, Tommy?”

The little boy gave him a hesitant nod.

„Will you tell me what they did or said?” Charlie didn’t want to push him, but not knowing what had happened drove him crazy.

„I don’t want to.”

„Were they very nasty?”

„They’re always nasty. Nobody loves me because I’m small and Gypsy and poor and our teacher likes me.”

„Evil little shits.” Charlie muttered.

Tommy didn’t say anything, just started to draw a second, smaller horse. Probably a foal.

„Do you know why Mum couldn’t come for you, Tommy?” Charlie asked suddenly.

Tommy shook his head.

„Baby Ada is on the way. You’re going to have a little sister soon.”

Tommy’s breath hitched and he stared at Charlie with huge eyes. Then a sweet, happy smile spread on his face.

„My baby sister! It’s the best day ever. I bet little John is excited. Now he’s going to be a big brother too. I have to teach him so many things. ” He was practically bouncing in his seat and couldn’t stop babbling until he was asked if he wanted a boy’s or girl’s toy.

„Girl!” He exclaimed enthusiastically, and Charlie smiled at him warmly and ruffled his soft, flippy hair.

„Are you sure, Tommy?”

„Yeah. Baby Ada needs a welcome gift. She’ll be happy if I give it to her.” Tommy nodded confidently, and Charlie remembered another proud big brother who did something similar seven years ago.

„I’m sure she will. She’ll immediately know she has the best brothers in the world and she can always count on you. I’m proud of you.”

A few minutes later, Charlie was watching Tommy slowly munching his chicken nuggets. He wanted to make sure his nephew could eat as much as he wanted without sharing it with John. He noticed how small and skinny Tommy looked among his peers. He should have eaten more. Charlie occasionally stole a fry to make Tommy feel like he didn’t eat alone, which always stressed him.

„We’ll we go to see baby Ada right now?” Tommy asked and scrutinized a fry before he took a minuscule bite.

„No, we’ll go to to the yard to join Curly and John. We’ll pick Arthur up after school and then go to the hospital. Hopefully Ada will be ready to meet you three soon.”

Tommy nodded thoughtfully and took a sip of his milk.

„Are you sure you don’t want to see the toy before you give it to the baby? Maybe you would like to keep it.” Charlie asked with a smile because he already saw it.

„It’s a girl toy, Uncle Charlie.” Tommy rolled his eyes but after a few minutes, he peered into the bag and his eyes widened. „It’s a horse!” He looked up in amazement and carefully wiped his fingers clean before he reached for the said horse.

Actually, it was a white unicorn with pink mane and wings, but any horse is a horse. Charlie could see the battle in his little head. It was for girls and he wanted to give it to his sister. But it was a horse after all, and Tommy wanted to keep every single one of them he saw.

„You know, son, I think baby Ada wouldn’t mind if you took care of this magic horse until she’s big enough to play with it.” He offered a reasonable solution to the unsolvable problem.

„Really?” Tommy looked at him hopefully, already stroking the unicorn's mane.

„Really.” Charlie answered with a wink.

Charlie sighs heavily and brushes a lock of hair from Tommy’s forehead.

„I wish I could still make you happy that easily.”

„That would be nice. But you can't.” Tommy whispers and closes his eyes again. Charlie leans closer and gently kisses his temple.

„I would buy you all the horses in the world, if it helped. I promise to do anything in my power to help you get better. Just let me do it, my boy. Don’t leave me all alone.”

Chapter Text

Charlie has been watching Tommy slumbering for almost an hour and the weight on his chest is growing heavier with every passing minute. Something must be wrong.

Tommy is still ghastly pale, but there’s an almost unvisible pink hue on his cheekbones. He wants to convince himself to be glad, that it means he’s getting better. But it doesn’t make him look more alive. Besides that, he’s warm, and Charlie isn’t sure it’s a good thing. It could be, he tells himself for the umptenth time. It has to be. He was so fucking cold after losing all that blood. His hands still are, and the sight of his fingers sticking from the splint on his left is sickening. They are swollen and terribly white with a slight bluish discoloration. It doesn’t even look like a real hand, more like something made of wax. Is it normal? Was it like this before? The other one looks quite normal, at least in comparison.

He sighs heavily and gently holds the boy’s hand, just like Arthur did. The right one, he doesn’t even dare to touch the other after Arthur Sr.’s fucking barbarism made it even worse. He’s dreading to find out if there’s more damage, but he keeps looking at the door every few minutes because the waiting might be worse than knowing, even if they get bad news.

Tommy shifts and frowns in his sleep, and Charlie prays to all gods he can think of not to wake him up in terror again. He can’t face that haunted look in Tommy’s eyes again so shortly after this afternoon. A little whimper escapes Tommy’s lips and the frown deepens. Fuck, he must be in pain. It goes on like this for a while but he doesn’t wake up, not even when the door quietly opens and Nurse Brown enters the room.

„Good evening, Mr. Strong. I just came to see how Thomas is, and I brought some ice packs for his arms.

„Evening, nurse.” Charlie sighs in relief and rubs the back of his head nervously. „I think he’s in pain. I know he wouldn’t tell me if he was awake but he’s been frowning and whimpering in his sleep a few times and I don’t like how his fingers look. Something is fucking wrong with him. And I think he has a fever.”

„I’ll check everything, Mr. Strong. You are quite a good observant.” She says as she carefully places the ice packs. „We’ll leave them on his arms only for ten minutes to reduce swelling and pain a bit. I'll come back later to do it again. ”

Charlie has seen nurses doing it before but somehow it feels entirely wrong to put something that cold on Tommy’s arms when he’s always freezing. He’s been thinking about bringing his quilted blanket in for days. It’s much warmer than the ones provided by the hospital and it’s almost as comforting as the old stuffed horse that’s currently sitting guard by its owner’s shoulder. But he has to admit that he doesn’t know how his nephew would react to something so closely related to his mum.

„I wouldn’t say I’m observant. I guess I just got used to watching Tommy and noticing if something is off with him. Old habits die hard.” He says bitterly and watches the young nurse while she examines Tommy’s fingers.

„Oh, I see what you meant. Did you take care of him often when he was sick?” She asks and scribbles down something on the chart at the foot of the bed.

„I wouldn’t say so, though I often picked him up from daycare or school and always knew if he was really sick or just wanted to go home because of the other kids. In the first case, I took him home. If he faked it, we went to the stables to see the horses. They always cheered him up.” He smiles as he remembers how many times he saw Tommy's eyes light up when he spotted a horse. „No, it comes from earlier. Tommy was a premature baby and I was there with his mother every single day for three fucking months. I thought they wouldn’t even let me stay, but I think everyone felt for her after the scene her husband made. You saw what he’s like with your own eyes. He wasn’t much better back then. Sarah couldn’t have done it all alone, and I’m not saying this to exaggerate my role. But it was hard. Everything could have gone to hell in a blink of an eye, and sometimes it did. So I was watching him all day as a crazy mother hen to notice every change. Not that the damn machines didn’t do it instead of us.”

„Was he very small?” The nurse glances at him while she keeps her hand on Tommy’s forehead before turning to read the monitors.

„Aye, like a little kitten. He was born at 27 weeks and tiny even for that, barely above 750 grams. There were a few times when he gave us a fright and we thought we would lose him. Once they even told his mum to say goodbye to him.”

Charlie suddenly feels tears pricking at his eyes and he thinks it’s ridiculous, it was eighteen years ago and Tommy was fine, the current situation has nothing to do with it, then what the hell is going on?

„It was terrifying. The worst experience of my life until I found him lying in his own fucking blood. But he was fighting really hard and suddenly got better after that horrible night, and then he was thriving. I was so proud of him. He was doing remarkably well and could go home a few days before his due date. His mum always made sure to celebrate that day as well, not just Tommy’s actual birthday. I think she did it for both of her boys, it was such a big moment for Arthur when his little brother was finally home. He adored Tommy since the first time his tiny hand closed around his finger, but I think it only became real to him that day.”

But there was no celebration this year. Sarah was already dead by then, they just didn’t find her yet. Charlie is sure she didn’t realise the significance of the date. She was too far to keep track of days anymore. She would have never left her son right before this special day. Hell, the Sarah he knew would have never left her children at all. He carefully holds Tommy’s hand again and thinks he needs it more than the lad at the moment.

„I think it’s worse now because he was such a fierce little fighter back then. He beat all the odds and stayed with us, but now he just gave up and wants to die. But the Tommy I know never gives up anything, and it hurts to see him like this. And I feel just as useless as when he was a baby and we were watching his tiny chest rise and fall, dreading with every breath he couldn’t even take by himself that it might be the last. I’m fucking useless again, and I don’t know how to help him.” He shakes his head in disbelief. „Fuck, I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I’m sorry, nurse. Normally I’m not like this.”

„It’s understandable, Mr. Strong. You are under extreme stress. It’s better to share your worries with someone than to bottle it up. We all want Thomas to get better, and you can turn to us if you need help. I honestly recommend the entire family to talk to a psychologist. It’s a trying time for you all.” Nurse Brown gives him a reassuring and kind smile. „Despite the dire circumstances, Thomas is lucky to have such a devoted and loving uncle. If I didn’t know better, I would think I’m listening to his father. But Nurse Evans already warned me not to repeat her mistake.”

„His father.” Charlie snorts. „Sometimes I think Tommy would be luckier if his father had left years ago. At least we could have avoided this fucking disaster he caused with his visit.

----

Arthur closes the door of Dr. Williams’ office behind him and leans to the wall. He wipes his sweaty palms on his trousers and tries to regain his composure. But his thoughts are whirling.

What did he do?
What should he do?

He wishes someone answered all his questions and told him straight away what to do, because he has no idea. All he wants is to help Tommy get better and keep all his siblings together.

„Arthur!” He’s so lost in his thoughts he flinches when Aunt Polly calls his name. „What happened? What did they want to talk about?”

„Just… Tommy.” Arthur shrugs. „About Tommy and Dad.”

„I hope you didn’t say anything that could put your siblings in danger. The social service wouldn’t turn a blind eye to what your father has done to Tommy.” She scrutinizes him distrusfully. Arthur doesn’t like it at all. „You know what’s at risk.”

„Fucking hell, Aunt Polly!” He snaps at her but immediately lowers his voice. „I’m not that stupid. But I don’t fucking think that keeping secrets and lying would help Tommy. And he should be our fucking priority, not your obsession with the ’family code’ that somehow left Mum fucking alone.”

„What? What does this have to do with your mother? She made her own decisions, Arthur, she was a grown up woman, not a child. And she agreed to the rules you suddenly hate so much. She knew she would have lost you all if the fucking Children’s Services had known what your father had done. We kept it between us for a reason. Where do you think Tommy would be now? Even half of what happened to him would have been enough to tear the family apart. You want to help you brother? Fine, I want that too. But don’t forget that he’s an adult now, unlike John, Ada and Finn. They would pay the price if we ran our mouth.” Polly hisses and squeezes his elbow.

„Leave me alone, for fuck’s sake!” He pulls his arm away with force. „I know. But Tommy isn’t at a right place now either, eh. Forgive me if seeing that fucking thick folder that lists Tommy’s worst injuries upset me a little. Fuck, there’s a lot they don’t even know about.”

„Stop acting like you were oblivious to what was going on, Arthur. And we always took care of your brother when your father went too far. I treated his injuries myself, just like yours and the others’. I kept your mother together for a long while when she started to fall apart, and I tell you the same I told her. We never let any of you suffer and protected you as much as we could. But running to the doctor every single time you had bruises or a bleeding nose would raise suspicion.”

„I know. But you didn’t see that fucking folder, Aunt Pol.” Arthur rakes his fingers through his hair.

„Get yourself together, Arthur!” Aunt Polly grabs his shoulders and looks at him with fire in her eyes. „That folder probably includes every medical records since he was born. He was in the NICU for months, I bet there’s a lot of things from that time.”

„Okay. Fuck, I’m sorry, Aunt Polly. It’s just too much.” He mutters and she rubs his arms comfortingly.

„Go home, Arthur. You haven’t had a proper sleep for days. Goodness, you barely slept since your mother died and you spent the nights by Tommy’s side to comfort him. Your brother will understand if you go home and rest.”

„I can’t. He’s my little brother. He just had a fucking breakdown, he has an infection and we don’t know what else is wrong with his arm. I can’t leave him alone now.” Arthur protests desperately.

„He’s not alone. I’m here, and so is your uncle. They won’t let your damn father come back, not that he would try again.” Aunt Polly says reassuringly. „We’ll stay with him and I swear I’ll call you in the minute when we have the CT’s results.”

Arthur doesn’t answer immediately. He’s so fucking exhausted and he knows Ada and John need him too. They must be afraid and worried about Tommy. The last time he saw them was after the funeral, and they were so lost and sad without Mum.

„Come on, go home. Spend some time with your other siblings. It’s hard for them to comprehend what’s going on. John thinks Tommy will die, and I’m not sure I could convince him otherwise..” She hesitates for a second. „Your father went home last night.”

„What? Why didn’t you tell me? That’s why John called you, then?” Arthur is shocked. How could she keep it from him?

„Everyone is fine, don’t worry. He was drunk and told John a lot of rubbish. I didn’t tell you because I knew it would upset you. You had enough on your plate.”

Arthur starts pacing in the hallway, going back and forth between two choices.
„Fuck. I’ll stay until we get the results, then I’ll go home. It can’t last long.”

„And if we get bad news?” Polly asks doubtfully.

„Then I’ll ask Tommy what he wants.”

----

Developing infection. Graft failure. Thrombosis. Surgery.

Dad would be proud of his work.

These words keeps echoing in Tommy’s mind as Dr. Williams explains him and his family the results of the tests they did in the afternoon and the plan for tomorrow. He isn’t listening, not really. He vaguely hears as Aunt Polly asks a lot of questions and Uncle Charlie murmurs reassuring things while Arthur is carefully holding his hand – not the subject of this discussion, the right one – between his palms.

Tommy just wants to sleep without nightmares. Or die, that would be the best.

He suddenly snaps back to reality and it takes a moment to realize why. It’s something the doctor says.

„… can be life threatening.”

„What?” He asks and there are four pair of eyes staring at him.

„What do you mean, Thomas?” Dr. Williams asks kindly. „Would you like me to explain something again?”

„No. Did you say it can be life threatening?"

„Yes. I did.” The doctor says suspiciously. Tommy knows Aunt Polly realises what he means before everyone else. She’s always been clever.

„Jesus Christ.” She sighs and raises her eyes at the ceiling.

„Can I refuse the surgery? I’m an adult, I can decide if I want it or not, right?” It’s the first time since waking up in the hospital when he feels a flicker of hope. Can it be this easy?

Dr. Williams looks slightly uncomfortable as he exchanges a look with Aunt Polly. Uncle Charlie stares at him in disbelief. Arthur swears under his breath.

„Under normal circumstances, yes. Although I would not advise it to anyone. But you’re here because of a suicide attempt, Thomas. You were willing to try it again here after your father’s visit. The hospital staff - including myself, several nurses and a social worker - heard you exclaim that you want to die, not to mention what your relatives told us. Unfortunately, you are a danger to yourself. You can’t make decisions regarding your health.”

Tommy wants to protest. He wants to argue and fight until they understand his point. But he’s too tired to do anything. He doesn’t care. They can do whatever they want. If they insist on keeping him alive, he will be out of this fucking place eventually, and then he can do it better. Good and clever enough to make sure nobody won’t drag him back to life.

So he just slumps into his pillow and tries to think of anything but living while the doctor explains the procedure.

You should have died. Nobody would miss you.

The next time he pays attention is when Arthur starts stroking his face. He looks sad and Tommy feels sorry for it. He doesn’t want to hurt him. Arthur is the best brother anyone could dream of. He wishes he could be a better brother to him and their little siblings in return. A better nephew. A better son. But he’s always been a failure and never will be anything else.

„Tommy?” Arthur’s hand is on his forehead. It feels cold, which is weird. Tommy is always cold and his brother’s warm touch is always comforting. „Are you listening, little brother?”

He nods.

„I won’t push you to talk about what just happened. I know you don’t want to, and I have no idea what would be the right thing to say. I just want to tell you that I fucking love you. Having you as my brother is the best thing that ever happened to me. And don’t tell the others, but you’re my favourite sibling. Think of this when the fucking darkness reaches for you, okay?” Arthur whispers and kisses his head.

It’s nice. He wishes he could believe his words. But he can’t believe in anything nice.

„Aunt Polly told me to go home. But it was before we knew the results. Do you want me to stay here? ’Cause I’ll stay if you need me. Ada and John would understand, they love you, and Finn is happy whether I’m there or not. I can sleep here again.”

Yes, he wants Arthur to stay. But he can’t be so selfish. His little brothers and sister need him more. And Arthur has been here with him night and day. So Tommy shakes his head.

„No. You can go home, you need to sleep. It’s okay.”

Are you sure? I would gladly stay if you wanted.

He nods.

„You’re going to be fine. I’ll be back early in the morning to see you before this damn surgery and wish you luck. We’re going through this shit together, eh. You're not alone. You’re going to recover and everything is going to be fine. I promise, Tom.” Arthur says and smiles at him.

Tommy pretends to believe his brother.

----

Polly tries to hide her frustration as she stirs the bowl of cream soup she’s been trying to feed Tommy in the past thirty minutes. So far, the most she achieved was coaxing less than half of it into him, and she is at her wits end.

„Stop being so dramatic, Thomas!” She snaps irritably when her nephew turns his head away again, though she knows very well it won’t lead to anywhere. Never has. If anything, it makes things even harder. Polly wishes Sarah was here. She could always manage to make her son swallow at least a small amount of food when he had trouble with eating. But she’s not here, and never will be. That’s the origo of this whole mess. „You know you need to eat. Or is it your new way of self-destruction? Do you really think they would let you starve yourself to death in a hospital? Let me tell you something then: they fucking won’t.”

„Fucking hell, Polly.” Charlie mutters from his spot by the window. He’s been looking outside during the unsuccessful dinner to make Tommy feel less cornered. Of course he leaves it to Polly to deal with the boy’s lifelong issues with food. She only gives him a murderous look and turns back to Tommy.

He doesn’t even look at her. Polly sighs and forces herself to stay calm. Or at least tries her best.

„Come on, Tommy. You’ve been living on crumbs for two weeks now. It can’t go on like this forever.”

„No.” He protests and stares at her intently. „Why can’t you understand?”

„And why do you have to act like it’s the hardest thing on earth? Arthur and the nurse told me you barely ate anything today, and you vomited twice since your last meal. If we can call that a fucking meal at all.”

„I’m going to be sick if I eat more.” Tommy says and Polly must admit he really looks a little green.

„More? More than what, Thomas? You look like a skeleton.” She hears Charlie quietly cursing under his breath but she decides to ignore him. „You heard the nurse too. She said it won’t upset your stomach. She gave you medicine for nausea. So I hardly think you would throw up if you forced down a few spoonfuls more. You make your recovery much harder if you refuse to eat, I bet that’s the reason of all these complications, at least partly.”

„Or his fucking father.” Charlie grumbles. Polly ignores him.

She sighs and strokes her nephew’s face with her other hand. Her heart clenches when she notices how warm he is. Definitely too warm. Dr. Williams said he would avoid surgery with an infection, though they don't have much choice. It's dangerous but better than delaying the thrombectomy and graft repair. So Tommy is on antibiotics and fluids for the entire night and they try to reduce his fever. She doesn't want to think what could happen if something went wrong.

„Your mother wouldn’t want to see you waste away, darling. She would want you to eat because you will need your strength to heal. And that’s what she would want. To see you fight and get better. She would hate to see you give up.”

„She’s…” Tommy falters. He swallows hard and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment as if he had to force the words out. „She’s d-dead. She’s fucking dead. You don’t know what she would want.”

„But I do, Tommy.” Charlie suddenly chimes in as he strides back to the bed and cups his face between his calloused hands. „I knew your mum almost all her life and saw how much she loved you. Fuck, I was there when you were born and saw the battles you two fought together every single day for months until you could go home. She was never ready to let you go. I know you’re tired and sad, but your aunt is right in this. Your mum would want to see you fight, just like when you were a wee baby. Like all your life when you haven’t let your father break you but have grown into a wonderful young man she could be proud of. And I saw how worried she was when you had that fucking pneumonia when you were small or when you were badly injured. She would want you to live.”

„Then why isn’t she here?” Tommy whispers and the sadness in his voice breaks Polly’s heart.

But it infuriates her as well. How could Sarah do this when she knew more than anyone how much she means to Tommy? How can a mother choose to leave her family alone in the world? How could she throw her life away without thinking of her five children? Finn just turned two months old a few day before her death, and he’s never going to know his mother or have memories of her. Polly can’t comprehend that. She lost her Michael and Anna and hasn’t given up. She’s here, taking care of Sarah’s kids, who are practically orphans, since they can’t count on her useless brother. She’s all they have left. And Charlie, but Polly thinks he’s so focused on Tommy that he can hardly help the younger siblings. Especially Finn. What do men know about babies? They just make them, and leave the hard part to women, like Arthur Sr. or her own husband. Even her and Arthur’s father. Yes, Charlie was there after Tommy’s birth and kept watching him like a hawk, but he didn’t have much to do then, did he? Everything was under control in the hospital. He just went back to his horses and scrapyard while Sarah – and Polly herself – dealt with a baby who was still small compared to a normal infant and never wanted to eat enough. Well, some things don’t change, she thinks morosely.

She decides to let Charlie deal with the situation for once and quietly observes what he does.

„I don’t know, Tommy. I wish I did and could give you real answers. The ones you want and deserve to hear. I think she was too lost in the dark labyrinth of her own thoughts and doubts to think clearly anymore. She couldn’t fight her demons and didn’t see the impact of her actions on you all. But never think that she left you deliberately. She loved you so fucking much.” Charlie’s voice is raw with emotions. Polly has always seen how he looked at Sarah. Even her idiot brother noticed it, and it made her sister-in-law’s life significantly harder.

„I wish I could be with her.” Tommy says in a small voice but they both hear the desperation in it.

„I know, Tommy. I wish she was still here with you. It kills me too but there’s nothing we can do to bring her back. And you can’t follow her, my boy. Not yet. Not for a very long time, if I have a word in it. But I promise it will be better with time. I swear it won’t hurt this fucking much forever.”

Polly is still genuinely surprised by how well Charlie handles Tommy, after all these years. Maybe they wouldn’t be sitting in this damn hospital room, waiting for another surgery in the morning if his father showed him a little bit of empathy.

„But when?” Tommy whispers miserably. „You all said it would be better after the funeral. But it didn’t. It got fucking worse.”

„I don’t know when. I’m sorry if we gave you false hope." Charlie's voice is hoarse with emotions. "What I know for sure is that one day you’re going to smile and laugh again, even if it seems impossible now. And if your mum is watching from somewhere, she’s going to smile with you.”

Chapter Text

Arthur is so weary that his walk from the bus stop to the house on Watery Lane feels like he’s sleepwalking. Aunt Polly straight out forbade him to drive and he didn’t want to ask Uncle Charlie to take him home. Tommy needs him, especially tonight. He expects to see Mrs. Thorne so it surprises him when he finds his friend in the company of his little brother instead of her.

„What are you doing here?” Arthur asks and hopes he doesn’t sound hostile.

Jeremiah is a good friend, he just doesn’t have the mental capacity right now to understand why he’s sitting in their kitchen, reading from his battered Bible while John is absentmindedly eating some leftover cake folks brought for Mum’s wake before the funeral. But Arthur is so fucking tired now he barely understands anything. All he wants to do is to fall into his bed and sleep for an entire day. Or a week. But he can’t, he promised Tommy to be back early in the morning. He’s too nervous to have a proper, peaceful sleep anyway.

„I told Freddie’s mum to call Jeremiah, Arthur.” John says and looks up from his plate. „She had to go home after six, and I heard when Aunt Polly called her to say she wouldn’t be back in time and asked if she had any idea who had time to babysit us. Like we don’t know how to take care of ourselves.” He rolls his eyes.

„You really don’t know how to take care of a baby, John. You were only two when Ada was born.” Arthur corrects him.

„But we had almost three months to practice and I saw how you all do it. Me and Ada can change a damn diaper or hold a bottle just like you or Tommy. It’s not a big deal. Everyone can do it.”

John shrugs and doesn’t see how his words hit Arthur. It’s really not a big deal, not under normal circumstances. But their life is everything but normal these days. Maybe never was, he finally sees it. Tommy fed, changed and cradled Finn multiple times. But he wouldn’t be able to do any of it now. He can barely lift a finger, and if he does, he looks like he’s in a hell lot of pain. And tomorrow he’s having another fucking surgery in the morning, thanks to Dad. Two, actually, since it’s crucial to remove the blood clot that could travel to Tommy’s lungs or heart, and they would risk persistent damage if they waited with the repair of the grafts. Arthur is glad if he understood half of Dr. Williams explanation but he’s bloody scared. What if they can’t fix all the damage and Tommy can never use his arms and hands the way he did before? He can’t imagine a life like that for his brother. It would be torturous for Tommy to see baby Finn cry or fall when his older and not being able to hold him in his arms and comfort him with cuddles. Fuck, he doesn’t even dare to imagine how he would look at horses knowing that he can’t ride, braid their manes or just pet them as he used to.

„Are you listening, Arthur?” John asks impatiently. „So I said that Jeremiah’s wife used to babysit a lot before they had Isaiah, and Freddie’s mom called and Jeremiah came too.”

„Yeah, and we brought little Isaiah with us, if you don’t mind. He didn't cause any trouble.” Jeremiah closes his book and his dark eyes are full of concern when he looks at Arthur. „You look like shit, man. How is your brother?”

Arthur suddenly feels drained as if all energy left his body. He pulls out a rickety chair and joins the others at the table with a sigh.

„I don’t fucking know.”

He gives John a long, scrutinizing glare. Aunt Polly says they must keep the truth from him and Ada. Maybe she’s right. They lost Mum two weeks ago, it would be too much to know their big brother wanted to die and cut his own arms with such savagery Arthur couldn’t even comprehend it. But what use would it be to feed them lies? They’re not stupid, and they will see Tommy, hopefully sooner than later. They will see the fucking bandages and the change in him. Fuck, they have already seen how different he was after Mum was found. Arthur wants them to know the truth.

But the main reason why he’s willing to share it with them is that he doesn’t want to put another burden on Tommy. He doesn’t want his brother to feel ashamed. His scars will never disappear from his arms, and Uncle Charlie was right when he said they need to see through them. To see only their brother. Their Tommy.

Arthur saw the looks of people on Watery Lane after Mum died and he despised it. They were whispering behind their palms and judging her for choosing the easy way out. He saw how they were staring when he and Aunt Polly got into Uncle Charlie’s car to follow the ambulance that took Tommy to the hospital. But they are all fucking wrong, and Arthur is ready to punch anyone in the face who dares to badmouth his little brother, just like when they were kids. There’s nothing easy about what he did to himself, or how Mum walked into the cut until she lost her footing and drowned. It must have been the hardest thing they had ever done, and he doesn’t even dare to think of the thoughts in their heads. The things Tommy says are frightening enough.

„How do you mean you don’t know?” John looks angry and scared. „You were there for days, you didn’t tell me shit when I asked. I want to know. Tommy is my brother too, not just yours. Dad came home, talking loads of shit about him and Mum, and Aunt Polly just repeated the same bullshit about an accident. But I’m not an idiot and I found out he tried to kill himself. And you still keep lying to me. You know what? I’m sick of all your lies, brother.” His voice breaks and Arthur feels horrible for pushing him to the verge of tears with one simple sentence.

Jeremiah stands up, pats John’s shoulder and quietly leaves the kitchen with a sad but reassuring glance at Arthur.

John buries his face in his hands and his shoulders are shaking with the force of his suppressed sobs. Arthur scoots closer and wraps his arms around him.

„I’m fucking sorry, John boy. I know it’s unfair and hard. I just didn’t know what to say.”

„The truth, Arthur! What else?” John looks up at Arthur tearfully and returns the embrace.

„Okay. How do you know what happened?”

"I just figured it out." He's sniffing while his big brother is stroking his back. "Is he dying?"

"What?" Arthur asks, maybe a little loudly. He forces himself to calm down. "Fucking hell, don't say things like that. No. But he's really sick, and we have to help him get better.”

„What did he do? Did he really cut his veins? I saw an open pack of razor blades in the bathroom after Freddie’s mum finished cleaning. She cleaned the blood, didn’t she? That’s why everything is so shiny and clean. The bathtub and the floor. Even parts of the wall.” John rubs his eyes and Arthur can see how hard he tries not to look like a sad little boy. It doesn’t work. He looks and sounds just like that.

„Yeah, Johnny. He did.” Arthur sighs forlornly. „But he’s still our Tommy. Whatever shit you hear at school or on the street, he’s the same. He can’t come home for a long time but you and Ada can visit him soon, I promise.”

John doesn’t say anything. He averts his eyes and starts chewing on his lower lip. Arthur looks at him intently and waits for his answer.

„I don’t know if I want to.” John mutters.

„What?” Arthur can’t believe his ears. His little brother couldn’t say that. They always stick together. „Are you serious?”

„He wanted to leave us alone. Mum died. Fuck, no, she killed herself. Dad told me. I’ve never thought there would be a day when you all lie and he’s the only one who say the truth. And our brother wanted to do the same.” The younger boy starts blinking rapidly but it doesn’t stop his tears from falling. „Why should I care if he didn’t give a damn about us?”

Arthur pulls away and stares at him incredulously.

„You can’t be serious, John.” He says sadly. „We’re not like this. We support each other.”

„Did you say the same to Tommy?” John still refuses to look at him and starts kicking the table’s leg.

„Shut up, John.” He says without real anger. He’s just disappointed and terribly exhausted. All he wants is to hold all his little siblings and snuggle up together in Mum’s bed, like when they were little. Just now they would have Finn too. But they can’t. They can’t because Mum is dead and Tommy’s in the hospital. Finn will never have real family cuddles in the lazy Saturday mornings. „You’re fucking unfair. Tommy gave us a lot all his life. Fuck, he took beatings instead of you, brother. I didn’t tell him that and you or anyone else won’t do it either because he’s on the fucking edge and we can’t put more weight on him or he’ll crumble. And I don’t care if you’re angry, I know you don’t want to hurt him.”

„He hurt us. Why should I care?” The kicking continues. The tears leave dark spots on the sleeve of John’s jumper.

„No, he didn’t. He didn’t hurt anyone but himself. You don’t know what it was like for him to see Mum when she was found. None of us do. We’re all sad but he’s broken, John. Fuck, he actually has a fucking condition called broken heart syndrome. I didn’t even know something like that exists.” Arthur covers his brother’s clenched fist with his hand. „Don’t be like this. We can’t blame him for what happened to him.”

„Well I do.” John says in a choking voice. He pulls his hand away and leaves the kitchen without glancing back.

----

John is lying in his bed and somehow feels even more miserable than before. He’s thinking about Tommy. It’s always Tommy, isn’t he? He thinks of all the times when his brother comforted him or cheered him up. All the amazing games they played when they were small. All the lies he told Dad without a blink of an eye to protect him. The slaps and beatings he took instead of him.

The weirdest thing about the day when Dad beat Tommy so much that he ended up in hospital with four broken ribs and a collapsed lung is that John can't even recall why he got so angry. All he knows is that it was him, not Tommy who pissed Dad off. It should have been him, stupid ten years old little shit who curled up on the floor to protect his middle from Dad's brutal kicks in vain. It should have been him who was lying on the couch all night, whimpering in pain and gasping for air more and more desperately with every passing hour. It should have been him holding onto Mum's hand like a lifeline while she was arguing with Aunt Polly and Dad in tears to take him the hospital because using her Gypsy medicine and putting ice on the dark bruises wouldn't work this time, unlike before.

"Look at him Polly! You say you love him as your own. Would you let your children suffer like this? He can't breathe, don't you see? I won't lose my son like this. I don't care about the consequences, I'll deal with them when I have to, but we need to take him to the hospital. I can't risk his life for keeping us all together. Oy Devla, I should have never agreed to your fucking family rules! Vov si te mudarel les. Vov ka mudarel muro ćhavo jekh dives. Si jekh miraklo so vov na mudarda e Tommy sar tikno bebe."

John doesn't even know how he remembers Mum's exact words. Maybe because he's never seen her more afraid. She has never argued with Aunt Polly before, not like that. Only with Dad. So he scribbled down the Romani words as best as he could to ask someone later. In the end, he didn't have to. He read them over and over again until he figured out what they mean. Mum was afraid Dad would kill Tommy.

But he didn't know it back then when he was hiding in the corner of the living room with his face burning from shame and crying. He couldn't turn away from his brave, stupid brother. Only a sliver of blue was visible from his eyes but John saw that his long eyelashes were wet with tears. Every single shaky breath seemed to take him a huge effort. Tommy didn't deserve to be in so much pain.

It should have been John, not Tommy who was in the hospital with a fucking tube in his chest and on oxygen therapy. It should have been him who had tears welling his eyes when the nurses encouraged him to cough and do breathing exercises with a pillow held tight to his healing bones to prevent pneumonia. Not that it mattered, Tommy still had it in the end and he had to spend two weeks in hospital overall. The grumpy old doctor was rude to him and Mum and barely showed up to see him. He said they can only blame themselves if they escalated Tommy’s injuries with waiting until the morning. He was convinced the long wait was the reason why one of Tommy’s ribs punctured his lung. They should have come right after he fell off the horse. That’s what they told everyone. John knew it hurt his brother’s pride terribly when everyone in Small Heath and at school heard about his ’accident’ and thought he was so clumsy. He haven’t had a fall since he was seven.

And even when he was back home, he couldn't go to school for a while. He had to rest a lot propped against pillows, and Mum brought him every book about horses she could have found in the library because he couldn't ride for months and it hurt him like another kick in his slowly healing ribs. But Uncle Charlie and Curly often visited him when Dad wasn't at home and Curly watched horse documentaries with him while Tommy fidgeted with his old stuffed horse that mysteriously returned to his side while he was still in the hospital after a brief, symbolic exile when he deemed it too childish to sleep with it anymore. Mum only let him go out for short walks and only with someone older who could help if anything happened. John didn't know what could have happened. Dad never accompanied him on these walks. But at least he didn’t hurt him either for a while. He was just yelling and insulting him, but that was okay.

It should have been John. He deserved it, not Tommy who just wanted to protect him. Arthur is right. He's fucking unfair who lets his brother down. It's not Tommy's fault he couldn't deal with Mum's death, just like it wasn't his fault when Dad hurt him that much. If he turned away from him, he would be like Dad. John doesn't want to be like him. Not one bit. He wants to be like Arthur and Tommy, his awesome big brothers.

He wipes his tears away and reaches for his phone to send a message to Arthur.

Are you awake? Sorry I was an asshole. I’m not angry just fucking sad. I love Tommy and want him to get better. Will you tell him?

He doesn't have to wait long for Arthur's answer.

Yeah. We can talk if you want. Ada is here. Come over. Ps: stop swearing you little fucker.

----

„I hope you’re happy now, Polly. Why did you have to push him?” Charlie says bitterly as he leans to the wall in the corridor outside of Tommy’s room. A nurse sent them out to clean Tommy up after he threw up his meagre dinner Polly managed to force into him. Charlie didn’t like it at all, it was obvious how big effort it took from the poor lad to eat anything and he grew significantly greener with every spoonful of soup. He only hopes Polly was more gentle when Tommy was really small and every mealtime was a losing battle with him.

„How should I have known? The nurse told us she gave him something for nausea. You heard her too.”

„And she also said the bloody antibiotics can make him feel sick.”

„Fine, just blame me for not letting him starve himself to death.” Polly rolls her eyes and crosses her arms irritably.

„That’s not what I said. But he fucking told you he was nauseous and you should have listened to him.” He tries to keep his cool and have a civilised conversation without starting a row.

„Maybe it’s time to get off your high horse, Charlie Strong. Don’t pretend you know him better than me.” She snaps. „God save me from the audacity of men in this family. You’re all ridiculous. I’ve handled Tommy’s fucking food aversion since he got home for the first time. It’s easy for you, you immediately went back to pet your horses and work with Curly. You missed the hard part and showed up like a sneaky fox to play with the kids and take them and Sarah to the stable or boat trips every time when my idiot brother left the house. I know how far I can push him, as you said. I know him better than you.”

„It’s not me who is on a high horse, Polly.” Charlie can’t believe his ears. They should be on the same side. He thought they were, they worked together well after Sarah died and on the first day after Tommy’s suicide attempt. What the hell has gotten into her? „Stop acting like you’re his mother. He had one, and she would have been the fucking best if your bastard brother didn’t break her. She adored all the kids but Tommy was her miracle. And it’s not a bloody competition between us to decide who loves him more or did more for him. Believe me, I would have spent every single day with Tommy. Do you have any idea what it was like to watch that tiny little baby fighting for his life, attached to all those fucking tubes and wires, knowing there’s nothing we could do but be there for him if and when he got worse? Do you know how fucking helpless I felt? What it was like to constantly be with him for three months, and then all of a sudden step back from one day to another when he was finally well enough to come home? Arthur Sr. lost his mind every time he found me in the house and treated Sarah like dirt on his shoes.”

„Oh please, you know as well as I do that Sarah could have never dealt with him and Arthur on her own, she was already too labile. Tell me who would have taken care of her other son while she was glued to Tommy’s side in the NICU if not me?” Polly hisses.

„What’s wrong with you today? You sound like your brother. She wasn’t labile back then. She was fragile and depressed, and she didn’t have any help mentally after Tommy was born. You backed your brother and convinced her she didn’t need that support group the health visitor mentioned to her. You only told her to hold herself together and get over it. And if you’re so proud of yourself for taking care of Arthur, tell me about the night Tommy was born. Tell me how did Curly find little Arthur at the yard only in his pyjamas and little boots, searching for us in the cold because his mum wasn’t well and he was scared? Maybe the lad and you forgot what you were doing but I didn’t. You were busy sipping your fucking gin and didn’t give a damn about Sarah. You said it’s nothing and she’s overreacting without taking a glance at her. Don’t think she didn’t tell me everything. You weren’t better than your brother that night and it could have cost both their lives if Arthur wasn’t smart and brave enough to run for help.”

"She had help, Charlie! I helped her more than I can tell but the only place where that poor woman could have had help was a mental institution." Polly protests angrily. "But fine, make me a fucking enemy. Good to know that not only her insanity but the fucking premature labor is my fault too. The real problem is that you’ve been too obsessed with Sarah to see her objectively. She was my sister-in-law, my friend, but I saw that poor thing was too weak to be the mother she wanted to be. She could have never managed it alone. I basically raised that boy. And you know that Tommy would have never given up like this if she hadn’t killed herself.” Charlie has never raised his hand at a woman in his life but at this moment he could strangle Polly.

"With all due respect, do you really think you have the right to judge anyone’s maternal capacity?" Charlie knows it’s a low blow and he’s unfair but he’s burning with anger. He heard what happened to Michael and Anna, and he saw it was another cross to bear for Tommy who blamed himself for it. He just manages to catch Polly’s wrist before her slap would land on his face.

"Christ, Polly, you can’t hit people in a fucking hospital! Do you think they would let you take care of the kids if someone saw it? After what your fucking brother did to Tommy?" He whispers and slowly forces her hand down. "I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, I swear. But you can’t take away the only important thing in her life from Sarah. She was a good mother. Sadly not to Finn, but she did her best for the rest of them. So don’t tell me you raised that boy because that’s a fucking lie. You were her friend and you helped a lot, and so did I. But that’s what it was: help. And if you want to blame anyone, then you, me and her husband are all responsible for her death. And it applies to what happened to Tommy as well. Damn it, Arthur Sr. has been torturing him all his life and you created a fucked up family code to keep it secret!”

„That family code protected the children and Sarah, not my brother. You know the Social Services would have taken them from her if they knew about the beatings. Beside that, she was a grown up woman, not a child. What the hell should I have done for her that I didn’t?”

„I don’t know.” Charlie admits tiredly. „Just listen to her instead of giving her lectures when tried to open up. All I know is that we let her down and left her alone in that fucking marriage that felt like like a prison to her. You’ve known her for twenty-two years. Fuck, that’s longer than her life before your brother. You say she was your friend but have you ever tried to help her? To really help? Well I did, and I saw your fucking influence in her. She was obsessed with the fear of losing her kids. But she was her husband’s victim as well. We could have saved her, Polly. We could have saved them both. And all I want to do now is to give her son the help she never had or he won’t be here with us for long."

Polly wants to answer but they’re interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps. They turn to see an older doctor who is vaguely familiar to Charlie but he can’t place him. He gives them a curt nod and enters Tommy’s room without a word.

They share a worried glance and their argument suddenly seems banal and meaningless. Something must have happened to Tommy. Shit, he must be worse. Charlie start pacing the corridor. Polly is fiddling with her necklace.
They don’t say anything else for fifteen minutes, when the doctor leaves without giving them any explanation. The nurse quietly opens the door and calls them in.

Polly immediately demands answers from her but Charlie only sees Tommy. He looks so young, lost and sick. His eyes are heavy and glassy with fever and exhaustion, and there’s a cool cloth on his forehead. But at least he seems more comfortable in the clean hospital gown and fresh bed sheets.

„You look better, Tommy.” Charlie says and gently pets the boy’s hair. He doesn’t, but what is there to say? „How are you?”

„Fine.” Tommy mumbles and the lie couldn’t be more obvious.

„I believe it if you say so. The good news is that your aunt can’t push you to eat more. It’s past midnight, and Dr. Williams said that you can’t eat after that. Not that anyone would eat in the middle of the night but who knows what's in Polly's mind, eh.”

„Good.”

Charlie doesn’t like the way he sounds. He doesn’t like the one word answers and the unfocused eyes at all.

„Do you want to talk about last evening? What you asked from the doctor?”

The boy shakes his head with a frown and it makes Charlie think he may have a headache on top of everything else.

„Okay. I’ll let you sleep. But I’ll be here with you all night, so will your aunt. And Arthur will come back in the morning. You’re going to be fine.”

Tommy doesn’t say anything, just closes his eyes. It’s a tell-tale sign of his exhaustion and probably all the medicine they gave him. He never dares to sleep since they found Sarah. Charlie keeps stroking his hair, hoping that he’ll have a peaceful night. He’s halfheartedly listening to the two women’s discussion. The nurse is in the middle of her explanation.

„… and I noticed his heartbeat was irregular, he was short of breath and when I asked, he admitted to have chest pain. That’s why I called the doctor. We stabilized Thomas’ heart and Dr. Campbell agreed that it was caused by the Takutsobo cardiomyopathy.

„And how can his fever be higher if he’s on antibiotics all night?” Polly hisses angrily. Charlie feels for the poor nurse.

„It’s not uncommon, Mrs. Gray. It can be caused by the infection itself or the thrombosis. I asked Dr. Campbell to take a look at Thomas’ left arm and hand himself, and he thinks there’s no need for further intervention. Dr. Williams will be back early in the morning to see him before the surgery.”

When the nurse leaves them alone, Polly sits down with a sigh. None of them says anything, but Charlie sees in her eyes that she agrees to conclude a truce for now. They must keep Tommy’s best interest in their mind.

The night goes by slowly. Polly leaves the room once to bring them coffee but Charlie can’t leave Tommy alone. It’s hard to see him like this. Always has been. When he was a baby, when he was sick, when that bastard Arthur Sr. lost all control and beat the hell out of him. He doesn’t deserve all this shit. He deserves a good life. So did Sarah. But Tommy never had a chance for that. His mother lost more than anyone thought when she married Arthur Shelby. She lost her children's future too.

He still remembers Sarah on her wedding day. Beautiful, seventeen and already three months pregnant with her first child. Fuck, she was just a young girl, she needed her parents’ consent to make her marriage legal in the world’s eyes. Her parents never trusted or liked Arthur, a man who was a stranger to them all. Her father was furious after the bride kidnapping but he had no choice. It was tradition, something her conservative family always respected. However he despised the man, he had to give his blessing when the embarrassed bride and complacent groom returned with a small delegation of Arthur’s family and a beautiful grey horse to replace the bride-price. Though he could hardly contain his anger when the blushing Sarah announced her pregnancy in a small voice, he had to agree or his precious daughter would have lived in shame. She would have been deemed a damaged good if their community knew her virginity was taken. An unworthy husband is better than raising a bastard child alone.

The wedding was not even close to what her parents planned for her ever since she was a little girl. The adored Gypsy princess wore a simple, white lace dress that hid the barely noticeable curve of her belly from prying eyes and speculations. She had a baby’s breath and rosemary crown in her long black hair and a bouquet made of peonies, sweet alyssum and ferns. It was a perfect May day, the sun was shining and all flowers were in bloom, but nothing could overshadow her beauty. Charlie couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.

He watched with a heavy heart as she said her vows and shared wine and bread with her new husband, a man who was too old and cold for her. He saw the possessive gesture as Arthur held her shoulder or kept his big hand with an ostentatious signet ring on her waist. She was dancing and smiling all night, vivacious and graceful as ever, but Charlie knew her too well to believe her forced happiness.

So he invited her for a short walk by the cut when her new husband was too drunk to care about her absence and everyone else was singing and dancing too wildly to notice it. Except her mother, but she didn’t say a word. She had always loved Charlie.
He instinctively reached for Sarah’s small, soft hand and sighed in relief when she didn’t pull away. So some things are still the same.

„San bahtalo? Vov kerel tut bahtalo?” He asked and immediately searched her face for signs of lies.

„Me sem. Me si te avel man jekh bebe.” Her smile melted Charlie’s heart but he could see sadness behind it. He lightly squeezed her hand.

„Me źanav. Tu ka aves shukar dej.” He really meant it. Although she was too young, he knew she would love her baby more than anything or anyone.

„Ka zumavav sa so shaj. Me aba kamav les.” She said with a shy smile and gently touched her belly. Charlie couldn’t believe there was a baby in there. Arthur Shelby’s baby.

„Patyas ande leste? Tiro rrom.”

„Me trubul. Me sem leski romni.” Sarah’s answer didn’t ease his fears at all. He didn’t trust that man.

„Na kamav sar vov dikhel pe tute. Vov naj laćho manuš. Darav anda tumende.”

„Tu na trubul te keres. Amen ka ovas mishto.”

Charlie wanted to believe her so much it hurt. He needed her to be fine.

„Na kamav te aves korkori.” He admitted and started rubbing her delicate fingers. He could feel the new wedding ring on her ring finger. It felt like shackles, not a jewel.

„Leski phen si laćhi. Voj ka zhutil man.” Sarah seemed hopeful and he wished her sister-in-law had deserved her trust. He met her that day. She was pretty and friendly to her family, but Charlie found her a little too patronizing with Sarah.

„Amen śaj te avas amala. Me ka ovav kate vash tute.”

It should be me. I should have put a ring on your finger, not him. I would treat you like the queen you are.

„Etèrno?” She asked with a smile and caressed his face.

„Dzi ko dive kana ka merav.” He whispered and raised her hand to his lips for a gentle, innocent kiss.

Until the day I die.

He kept his promise. He stayed close and was there for her all his life. It was Sarah who left him alone.

Chapter Text

Arthur is laying on his bed with Ada's head on his chest, and feels like he could fall asleep within a moment. But his little siblings need him, so he forces his eyes open and tries to be there for them. He wants to be a good big brother, it has been the most important thing in his life ever since little Tommy gripped his finger and blinked at him sleepily for the first time. He remembers that everyone but Mum thought the would be jealous at the baby who needed so much attention and care, especially before he could come home and Mum was always with him. Only she trusted Arthur enough to see what his baby brother meant to him. He didn’t mind being under Aunt Polly’s wings for months, especially when he was allowed to visit his tiny Tommy. He drew a lot of pictures for him and Mum and imagined how much they would play together. Couldn’t stop babbling about him to anyone who listened. Not even in the church, which earned him a long, angry lecture from Dad. He never wanted to talk or hear about Tommy. Never visited him, it was always Aunt Polly or Uncle Charlie who took Arthur to the hospital where they healed sick babies. There was always a lot of yelling before and after those visits, but he was too excited and happy to listen to the adults. He understands now that Dad didn’t want Tommy to exist at all. Some things never change, he thinks bitterly.

John sneaks into his room with a sheepish, apologizing smile and something hidden behind his back. Though his little brother's eyes are red from crying, relief washes over Arthur at the sight of him. At least they're together, that's the only thing that has ever mattered. Though the most important person is missing from the room. It has always been Tommy who glued them all together.

He pats the bed invitingly and John joins them without hesitation. He leans to Arthur's side and rest his head on his shoulder.

"I'm really sorry, Arthur. I didn't mean what I said. I love Tommy very much and want to see him."

"I want to see him too." Ada chimes in. "Can we go with you tomorrow?"

Arthur swallows hard. Fuck, what should he say? How could he tell them what Dad did to Tommy and how poorly he is?

"Not yet, little Ada. At least not tomorrow."

"Why? What's wrong with him?" She sounds so small and scared.

Arthur takes a deep breath and slowly exhales it.

"Because he's having surgery in the morning."

"What? / Why?" His brother and sister asks at the same time. John lifts his head and stares at him in terror.

"His left arm... it isn't healing as it should."

Arthur hates lying to them. Even though it's not a lie, not really, it makes him fel like shit. Dad doesn't deserve to keep secret what an animal he is. He sees it now. He has never deserved Arthur’s love either, and nothing could ever redeem it. Not that Dad would ever change. He was a fool when he was calling him the night after Tommy cut his arms and naively and foolishly thought he would come rushing to the hospital. He came only to hurt Tommy even more and make things worse.

"Why not?" John demands. Arthur gives him look with a small movement of his head in Ada's direction. He hopes John understands that he wants to tell him, just not in their sister's earshot.

"And what happened to your face?" Ada carefully touches his swollen eye with a finger and it makes him flinch in pain. Damn it, he's ridiculous. Tommy must be in a hell lot of pain now and he has endured much worse from Dad for years. He's a grown up man, shouldn't complain about something that happened to him many times before. Something that wouldn't even seem that bad to his brother. Tommy was lucky if he got away with only a black eye. People always thought it was Arthur who hit him. Always. They knew he was boxing and it was easier to blame it on a stupid sport when the lovely little boy was running around in Small Heath with bruises on his face. Had they known it was much worse when Tommy’s face stayed intact and his injuries were hidden under his too big clothes. They were just poor Gypsy scum. Nobody cared about them.

„Just a little fight I had the other day. Nothing important.” He shakes it off and tries to find something else to talk about. He points at John. „What are you hiding behind your back, Johnboy?”

„It’s just something I wanted to ask you.” John hesitates for a moment and pulls out a big chocolate bar. „Will you give this to Tommy tomorrow? To make him feel better.”

„Yeah, Johnny.” Arthur’s voice is tight with emotions. John doesn’t need to know Tommy won’t eat it. „Sure I will.”

„I steal his food too many times.” John chuckles but he doesn’t sound happy. „He’s thin as a rail, but still gives me everything.”

„I know. He always gives us everything, doesn’t he? That’s Tommy.”

----

Polly can hear Charlie's murmuring voice and her nephew's stifled crying the moment she opens the door. She sighs warily.

Another bad night. Another nightmare.

"Shh, Tommy. It's okay. You're here with me. You're not there."

Charlie is sitting on the edge of the bed, holding the shivering boy in his arms tightly. He's slowly rocking him as if he was still a little child.

"We must find her. We have to help. She's drowning there all alone. We can't let her." Tommy says between choked sobs and tries to pull away but Charlie holds him tight.

"We did, son. We found her. Your mum is in peace now."

"Why isn't she here? I need her."

Polly doesn't like the sound of his heavy breathing. The last thing they need now is another fucking panic attack.

"I need Mum. I want her to be here. Please, Uncle Charlie. I need her."

A violent sob erupts from Tommy's heaving chest and he buries his face in his uncle's shirt. Charlie looks up at the ceiling with a desperate expression and starts blinking rapidly.

Polly sighs and walks to the bed to sit on the other side. She must take it in her hands, as per usual. Eventually, it's always her who has to clean up the mess after everyone else. It's not so different from the previous times. And God, there were many in this family. Charlie doesn't even acknowledge her presence as he's cradling the boy. Tommy is obviously too lost in his nightmares to care. She starts gently rubbing his back. Fuck, he's too hot. Why can’t this damn fever break? And she hates how easily she can feel his bones.

"She's gone, darling. You know that. She can't be here but she wants you to be strong, Tommy."

Tommy doesn't answer her, she isn't even sure he heard her. He's just shaking and crying for long minutes that feel like hours. She hates to see him like this. It’s so unlike Tommy.

"Thomas, listen to me. Two weeks has passed since she's gone. We said goodbye to your mother. We burnt her possessions last weekend and you all chose one thing to keep as a memento, you remember? It's time to accept it, sweetheart. She’s not coming back but she still loves you. Her love will always be with you."

But Tommy doesn't listen to her. Jesus Christ, for how long can this go on? Will he never sleep peacefully again? Why didn't his mother think of her children when she walked into the fucking cut? She should have known her body would be floating near to Charlie's yard, so many things drifts ashore there all the time. Nobody knew better than her how much time Tommy spends there. Of course Sarah’s favourite son had to be there when they pulled her out of the water. Polly saw her body in the morgue. She saw dead bodies in her life, including her own parents and husband who wasn’t a pleasant sight either, and yet it shook her. She didn't look like her sister-in-law at all. The only recognizable thing that still looked the same was her long black hair.

Charlie kisses the crown of Tommy's head and buries his face in his disheveled hair. So similar to his mother's, though not that dark. Sarah always loved petting his soft, flippy hair when he was small. She said her sons were very handsome with the haircut they became obsessed with a few years ago, but Polly could see she missed Tommy's longer locks when she stroked his head.

"You're here, my boy. I'm holding you. Can you feel it? Just calm down, eh. You're in this fucking bed. Not there. Far from the mud and the canal. We're here with you. Me and Aunt Polly. That fucking day is over. It’s over, Tommy, and you can turn your back on it. You don’t have to go back. We gave Mum peace. She can rest now. You don't have to be afraid for her."

To both their surprise, Tommy's breathing becomes a little more even and his sobbing quietens to softer crying.

"I see her like that all the time. I see her in my dreams. Every time. But she's not like Mum. She's like... like..." His breath hitches and a whimpering sound escapes him.

"I know, Tommy. I know. I saw her too. God, I would give everything to make you forget it. I would burn that memory into my mind forever if it meant that it doesn’t haunt you anymore. You know, sometimes I see her in my dreams, just like you."

Polly raises her eyebrows in surprise but Charlie doesn't look at her. His entire focus is on Tommy.

"Then how can you live?" Tommy asks quietly and suddenly his voice is so resigned and emotionless that it makes her blood run cold.

The room goes deathly silent. Charlie finally acknowledges her presence and they exchange a worried glance.

"Because I have to. It’s that simple. I have to be here for you. And I just try to remember the nice things. What she was like before. When she was a young girl, when she was bright and lively. How she loved you all. How much joy you and your siblings brought to her life. Your mum was a beautiful woman but it wasn’t just her features, her eyes or hair. The most beautiful thing about her was her love for you. You were her heart. You can't imagine how precious your life was to her, Tommy. She would have never wanted you to throw it away. She would have never wanted anyone to follow her where she went."

"Why can't I see nice things? Everyone else can. I want to see them too. I try so hard every time I close my eyes. But all I see is her that day." The desperation in Tommy’s voice grows with every single choked word.

"You will remember the good things, I swear. You're just still in shock, which is understandable. But it will pass and you're going to get better. We will help you, Tommy. I would turn the world upside down to help you get through this. And I promise as many times as I need that you will. I don’t care how many times I have to repeat myself.”

Tommy stays silent for a long time but his breathing concerns Polly more with every passing minute. He’s short of breath and his skin looks clammy and even paler than before if it’s even possible. The heart monitor is beeping like crazy by the time Charlie speaks again with forced calmness.

„Can you try to follow my breathing, Tommy? Because I don't know how you feel about it but I'm not ready for another damn panic attack yet, eh."

Polly is convinced it's a useless attempt to calm him down, but Tommy does as he's told and his breathing finally resembles to something close to a normal pattern again.

"Where is Arthur?" Tommy sniffles and looks up at Charlie with unfocused eyes. Polly doesn't like it at all. Why is he so confused? Is it that fucking fever that somehow only gets higher despite the IV’s, ice packs and cool cloths?

"Home, Tommy. He went home to sleep, remember? You told him you're okay with it. But he'll be back in the morning." Charlie glances at the clock on the wall.

They're still hours from dawn.

When they try to help Tommy get settled again in bed, a violent, rattling cough erupts from him. Polly doesn’t like how it sounds at all, and Charlie’s usually unreadable facial expression reflects her feelings as he keeps the boy upright. It takes a minute for Polly to recognize what she sees.

„Charlie!” She says warningly. She grabs a tissue from the nightstand and holds it to Tommy’s mouth. Her heart sinks when she takes it away after the cough subsides.

It’s stained with red. Blood.

„Fucking hell.” Charlie sighs and he holds Tommy tighter, who stares at the tissue with unnerving disinterest.

She just nods and presses the nurse call button.

----

Arthur wakes up with a jolt when his phone starts vibrating. He rubs his eyes and climbs out from bed where his siblings are still sleeping peacefully with entangled limbs, though they were both using him as their pillow.

He sneaks out of his room not to bother them and answers Aunt Polly’s call with nervously throbbing heart.

„What happened? Is Tommy worse?”

„He is. His fever got higher, his breathing is irregular and he started coughing up blood half an hour ago. It wasn’t much but gave us a fright.

„What? Blood?” Arthur’s head is dizzy. It can’t be possible. How could it be? Fucking hell, it can’t happen to his little brother. Not their Tommy. „No. No, it can’t fucking happen.”

„Arthur!” Aunt Polly says firmly. „Pull yourself together! We knew something like this could happen. Dr. Williams thinks the blood clot must have traveled to his lungs. They took him to do more tests.”

„I know. I know. Just… fuck.” Aunt Polly is right, he can’t lose his shit now. „I’ll go there. He needs me, I’ll go right now. I’ll call a cab or something, I can’t wait for the fucking bus.”

„Don’t leave the kids alone. You know we have to be careful. Call someone even if your fucking father is at home.”

„I’ll call Jeremiah or Curly. They’re fucking early birds, they won’t mind.”

„Jeremiah.” Aunt Polly chooses quickly. „Curly doesn’t know what to do with a baby. Jeremiah has a kid, he can take care of Finn, and he knows how to deal with my brother.”

„Okay. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

„Fine. See you soon.

Arthur swears inwardly but doesn’t let his thoughts spiral. He needs to focus on things he can solve. He peaks into Finn’s room to find him sleeping before he calls Jeremiah. Thankfully, he picks up his phone within seconds. He doesn’t even sound sleepy which eases Arthur’s guilt.

„I’ve been working on my next sermon for an hour.” He answers when Arthur apologizes for bothering him. „Do you need help, man?”

„Aye. Tommy is worse, I need to go to the hospital but can’t leave the kids alone. Can you come over and keep your eyes on them? Everyone’s sleeping but you know what the fucking neighbours are like.”

„Sure, Arthur. I’ll just tell my wife and I’ll be on my way.” Arthur hears a creaking sound, probably a chair as Jeremiah stands up. „Is your old man at home?”

„I don’t know. I’m still upstairs. Hopefully not.”

„Don’t worry. He fucking loves me.” He says sarcastically. „Can’t wait to discuss some Bible verses with him. Maybe we should listen to some Jamaican music. He must love it if he can’t stop talking about sending me back there.”

„I’m sorry for his bullshit, Jeremiah.” Arthur says warily. „I’m fucking ashamed when I hear how he talks to you.”

„Don’t be, Arthur. It’s funny, actually. I love to annoy him.” Jeremiah lets out a short laugh and starts a muffled conversation with someone. „Everything’s arranged. Tell your little brother we send our best wishes.”

Arthur needs a few seconds before he can answer. „Thank you, mate. I’ll tell him.” He hesitates again before he dares to ask. „You really don’t mind?”

„What? Babysitting?” Jeremiah sounds confused. „Come on, it can’t be harder than keeping Isaiah in one piece. That kid is a rascal.”

„No. What Tommy did. The fucking suicide. Don’t you judge him for it?”

„Jesus, Arthur, no! I’m a preacher but it doesn’t mean I’m a heartless monster. I still have my own moral beliefs. I would never judge him, neither your mum. We all love Tommy. He’s a good boy. What happened to him is a fucking tragedy and anyone who dares to say anything bad about him can go to hell.”

„Thanks, Jeremiah. You’re a good friend, and a good man. Little Isaiah is lucky to have a dad like you.”

„It’s the least I can do.” Jeremiah assures him and Arthur is about to say goodbye when he hastily adds. „Wait, Curly came to your house in the afternoon. He made me swear to tell you or your aunt that he found some lost barn cat and it’s ’very pregnant’, as he said. Though I don’t know why it was so important for him.”

„It’s Tommy’s cat.” He says and it’s enough for Jeremiah to understand.

----

Polly, Arthur and Charlie are gathered in Dr. Williams’ office by sunrise. Everything seems rushed and nightmarish since Tommy started coughing up blood and nurses and doctors filled the room to examine him and take him to do more tests.

They finally have the diagnosis in their hands. Pulmonary embolism. Just what the doctor warned them to as a potential complication. Part of the blood clot from Tommy’s arm traveled to his lungs. They can thank Arthur Fucking Shelby Sr., Charlie thinks bitterly.

„Unfortunately, Thomas can’t undergo conventional treatment such as thrombolysis and surgical thrombectomy due to elevated risk of bleeding and the fact that he's recovering from severe injuries and a life-threatening blood loss.” Dr. Williams is sitting behind his desk as he explains them everything.

„Why? It’s what you were talking about yesterday evening, isn’t it? You said he's going to have surgery to remove it.” Charlie says nervously. With Tommy's luck, he shouldn't be surprised by the diagnosis, or the fact that they could have discovered it hours ago if that fucking doctor gave a damn about the boy when the nurse asked her opinion.

„I did, but it was planned to remove the blood clot from the radial artery. But as I told you, a part of it traveled to his lung, causing pulmonary embolism. It would be too risky in Thomas’ case, especially considering his fever and overall weakened health. The AngioVac system is a promising alternative.

„What about his arm? You said it’s urgent or he can have permanent damage. Does it mean you have to postpone the graft repair?”

Charlie knows he has no words in Tommy’s treatment but he can’t stop himself from asking.

„It is a very complex case. The original plan was to perform surgery on the radial artery and nerve at the same time, potentially with a single incision, since they are located in the same area. To have these procedures on the same day requires consideration but it’s possible. It can increase the overall risks and recovery time, but it would be carefully evaluated. Right now we think it’s safe for Thomas to do the AngioVac thrombectomy in the morning and the operation on his arm in the evening. The medical team will keep close attention on him. Postponing the graft repairs could elevate the risk of persistent damage and disability of his left arm and hand. Though if we have to prioritize things, the pulmonary embolism is the most urgent.”

„I don’t like this at all.” Arthur mutters and rubs the back of his neck. "Fuck, I hate this."

„What is this AngioVac procedure?” Polly asks and Charlie can see she can barely keep her composure. God help them if even Polly Gray loses her shit in front of others.

„The AngioVac system is a device for removing thrombi and emboli through a veno-venous extracorporeal circulatory support system. The procedure requires two venous access points. An aspiration cannula is inserted into the internal jugular vein, and a second cannula is used for reinfusion of filtered blood, typically in the femoral vein. Blood is drawn through the AngioVac cannula and passed through a filter which removes the clot and other material, then the filtered blood is returned to the patient through the reinfusion cannula. This way we can minimize blood loss compared to other procedures, which is crucial in Thomas’ case. We still expect that he might need another blood transfusion after it. It is performed under general anesthesia and all venous punctures are made under ultrasound guidance. The procedure itself usually takes one or two hours but preparation and time spent in the recovery room can add several hours to it.”

„Bloody hell.” Arthur says and starts pacing in the room like a trapped animal.But te doctor isn’t finished yet.

„As any other procedures, the AngioVac thrombectomy system carries a risk of complications. While it aims to remove clots, it can sometimes dislodge them, causing new pulmonary embolism. Other potential complications include arrhythmias, stroke and perforation of the vessels. In some cases, physical damage to the device itself can also lead to failure. I need to inform you that while studies show high procedural success rates, mortality rates can range from zero to around 25%.”

„Fuck.” Arthur desperately mutters. „Fucking Dad! It’s all his fucking fault, none of this shit would have happened if he was able to act like a damn father instead of a monster!”

„Arthur!” Polly snaps at him and catches his arm firmly as he walks by her chair. „Stop! Have some self-control, for heaven’s sake!”

„I’m sorry I couldn’t give you better news but I assure you it's the best option for Thomas. We will do everything for him. Dr. Campbell made a huge and unforgivable mistake that he must take responsibility for. He should have taken the patient’s medical history into account instead of immediately considering his symptoms to the Takutsobo cardiomyopathy. Unfortunately, Thomas had a slightly higher chance of developing pulmonary embolism, given the fact that he was an extremely premature baby with several lung problems in his first year and had a pneumothorax three years ago. I assure you that last night will have consequences. Just like Dr. Campbell’s former ignorance when he treated Thomas at the A&E years ago.”

Charlie is eyeing the consent form and the elegant pen on the desk. His fingers are itching for it but he can’t do anything but sharing his opinion with the Shelbys. He’s not even sure Polly would be willing to hear or pay attention to it after their heated argument during the night.

He’s not Tommy’s dad. Not even a real uncle. Just a lonely fool who loves that boy more than he could have ever imagined. Although he’s been trying to replace a normal father figure in his life, that bastard Arthur Sr. could break him eventually. This time not just his body but his soul as well. His beautiful, free, wild Gypsy soul that he inherited from his mother and was blessed by a real king.

Charlie didn’t know what he had expected when he sent a letter with a photo of Tommy to Sarah’s father shortly after his birth. It had always been hard to find them, they were one of the few families Charlie knew who still completely refused to use digital technology. So he had asked one of the Lee’s to search for their camp and deliver his message.

And one month later, on a misty February morning, the great man showed up in the NICU after the worst night of their life.

They didn’t know how much time they have left with little Tommy. He’d been deteriorating rapidly and last night everyone had thought he would have given up the fight and Sarah had been allowed to hold him for hours. They told them to say goodbye. But their mighty little fighter was still holding on in the morning. Surprisingly, his vital signs seemed a tiny bit better. Or at least nothing had gotten worse for a while.

Charlie left them alone with a heavy heart when Sarah quietly told him to call Polly and ask how Arthur was. She had already told Charlie that she’d been worrying about him constantly and felt like a horrible mother, but simply couldn’t make herself to leave her frail, tiny baby alone for an entire day or night. Tommy couldn’t be on his own for so long. Anything could change for the worse within a blink of an eye, and it had indeed, too many times. Like when Polly convinced her to go home just for an afternoon and he had a small brain bleed. Sarah hadn’t left his side since then. She called Polly and talked to Arthur on the phone every single day. Her brave big boy was so smart and understanding that he hadn’t complained at all. He asked a lot of things about his baby brother, and his innocent, sweet questions always brought tears to Sarah’s eyes. Last time he had wanted to know what Tommy had played that day. And he never failed to ask when could he visit him.

So Charlie went and called Polly to exchange information about Sarah’s sons, carefully avoiding to mention the father. Arthur wanted to know when could he meet his baby brother, as always. Though it quickly had became a routine question, Charlie couldn’t answer this time. God, what if Tommy had left this world without the two of them ever seeing each other? Would it have been easier or harder for Arthur to understand? He was so enthusiastic about being a big brother every time they spoke. It broke Charlie’s heart to think that the lad might had became a brother without actually having a little sibling to hold or play with. Tommy would have been a constant emptiness and a gaping hole in his heart. Or was that how Charlie felt? He didn’t know.

Charlie couldn’t believe his eyes when he finished the call. Out of nowhere, he saw Sarah’s father, the Gypsy king himself on the familiar corridor leading to the NICU.

The unexpected grandfather welcomed Charlie with a curt nod.

„Charlie Strong.”

„Baro.” Charlie reciprocated the gesture.

„Tu bićhaldan manqe jekh lil. Tu trubulas te źanes so si ćororipe te keres jekh fotografia e ćhavorreski anglal te avel boldo.”

„Maj mishto sar te nakhel peski dej e jekhutni šansa te avel les vareso te dikhel thaj te bistrel te o čhavoro mulo.”

The great Gypsy man looked appalled for a moment. Maybe he hadn’t known how bad things were.

„Me lav sama kaj san dosta ćororo te phenes lesko anav zurales. Na si ćudipe sar e bilačhe duxura śaj te arakhen les. Dineas les i Sara anav palal o bijandipe? Kodo so si šušukar katar e dej thaj ačhel garavdo sajekh te konfuzirinel e duxura?”

Charlie sighed warily under the weight of scrutinizing eyes before he answered.

„No. I Sarah naśti te kerel kodo atunć. Thaj anglal te pućhes: Te aźukeras źi kana vov si dosta zuralo te avel thodino ando pani savo phirel, atunči śaj nikana na ka phenas lesqo anav.”

All he got as an answer was an unsatisfied grunt.

„Kamles te dikhes len? Me śaj te pućhav e Sarah. Tu nashti te phires andre odothe bi permisiako. Numaj e dada thaj e deja.

„Thaj tu, Charlie.”

„Thaj me.” Charlie suddenly feels a lump in his throat. „E Sarako rrom na mangel o ćhavorro. Vov numa jekhvar avilo kate, jekh dopash dives palal so bijandilo o ćhavorro. I Sarah sas aba daradi thaj pharo ilo, thaj kodo čorro astarda te cipil laça, phenindoj kaj akava slabo tikno mongrel nashti te ovel lesko čhavo. Vov manglja jekh zuralo čhavo. Na jekh slabo sar kodo. Vov phenda kaj te o ćhavo nane dosta zuralo te trail korkori, von trubun te cirden avri sa e ćorre tubura thaj tela thaj te mukhel e natura te lel pesko drom. Me či hatyardem varekas kadja but anglal. Me kamlem te mudarav les.

„Kodo bilačho manuš savo vazdel e Biblija nisar na merisardas miri čhaj.”

„Nijekhvar.”

When Charlie went back to ask Sarah about seeing his father, Tommy was in his incubator again. His only movement was the rising and sinking of his fragile chest. Charlie could barely find comfort in that anymore. The baby was better a few days ago and now a ventilator breathed instead of him again. It felt like a huge step back from the CPAP he was on for a week before this nightmare. He looked worse than when Charlie left the room, and yet he was the most beautiful baby he had ever seen. He wanted to cry, but had to be there for Sarah. She had nobody else to rely on.

She was sitting by the incubator with her right hand on Tommy’s head. Charlie knew he had wispy hair under the little knitted hat. Sarah was quietly singing and slid her finger into a teeny-tiny hand. The baby’s minuscule fist immediately clenched around it and Charlie saw tears welling in her eyes.

„Hush, little baby, don't say a word, Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird.
And if that mockingbird don't sing, Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring.”

He knew her father was waiting but didn’t want to interrupt such an intimate, tender moment between mother and son. God, who knows how many more songs Sarah can sing to her baby?

„And if that diamond ring turns brass, Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass.
And if that looking glass gets broke, Mama's gonna buy you a billy goat,
And if that billy goat doesn't pull, Mama's gonna buy you a cart and bull.
And if that cart and bull turn over, Mama's gonna buy you a dog named Rover.
And if that dog named Rover won't bark, Mama's gonna buy you a horse and cart.
And if that horse and cart fall down, well you'll still be the sweetest baby in town.”

When the lullaby was over and the only sound left was the usual unnerving beeping of various machines, Charlie quietly cleared his throat to warn her of his presence and announced the great Gypsy king’s arrival.

Sarah was shocked, to say the least but she agreed to let her father in. A nurse already showed him how to sanitize his hands thoroughly. Charlie noticed he pulled off all his rings.

Nobody said a word until the nurse checked Tommy’s vital signs – dropping again –, reassuringly squeezed Sarah’s shoulder ater a few encouraging and empathetic words and walked further enough not to hear them.

„Miri ćhaj.”

„Dad.”

„Si but vrama. Me mangav te ovel tiro źivdipe maj lokho, miri princeza.”

„Me sem mishto, dad.”

„Tiro rom si bilačho manuš. Me či ka mukhavas akava bijav te ovel marriage te źanav so dikhav akana.”

Sarah didn't answer. Instead of that, she gently stroked her baby’s head in his little blue hat.

„Vov si Tommy, Dad. Thomas Michael. Muro tikno princo.”

„Aver tikno Shelby. Strong. Vov si zuralo.” He was staring at the motionless baby for a long time. „Vov si shukar, Sarah. Vov ka ovel o thagar e Ciganengo jekh dives.”

„Chi zhanav te trajila dosta but vrama, Dad.” A desperate sob erupted from Sarah, and Charlie, who’s been lingering by the window, immediately rushed to her side. He gently held her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.

„Na rov, kamipe. O bebe ka hatjarel les. Nashti te mukhas les te hatjarel pes bilačhe, eh. Numa shukar butja amare tikne Tommyske.

„Me źanav. Numa vov či sas les khanć shukar. Vov si jekh tikno tikno andjelo thaj sa so vov džanel si dukh thaj dukh.” Sarah was openly crying now but she wasn’t able to withdraw her hands from her baby. Tommy hadn’t moved a finger since he held hers. Charlie wants to believe he’s sleeping peacefully but all he can think of is what if he will never move his tiny toes again, if he won’t open his sleepy eyes, if his little face will never smile at them. How could Sarah survive losing him? How could he survive it?

„Na, Sarah. Vov džanel sar si te aves astardo katar leski dej. Vov džanel kaj si drago. Akana vov na si ande dukh. Te na bistren, e nasvale phende tumenge arakhadi ratyi. Von na mukhen les te dukhal.

„Miri princeza, me na džanav but pal-e kadala bută. Numa tiro tikno si maripe. Me śaj te dikhav les.” Sarah’s father looks at her firmly but his voice is gentle. „Vi kodo zhanes, hoj jekh maj baro patyiv ande cigansko kultura si jekh ćhavoro ande tyire vast. Si tut jekh vaś svako vast. Thaj akava čhavorro si specialno. Vov si princo. Te aves gordo pe leste thaj te na mukhes tut.

„Me sem gordo, Dad. Me sim numa darado.

„Šaj te astarav les, mîrî ćhaj? Kamav te phenav jekh baxtagor. Te del les zor thaj troma te trail.”

„Ka keres leske, Dad?” Sarah asked hopefully. „Mange?”

„Sìgurno. Vov si familija.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small amulet on a red ribbon. „Le les, ćhaj. Džanav kaj našti te thoves paše o čhavoro numa te inkres les paše leste.”

The Gypsy king carefully reached into the warm, humid incubator and rested his big, rough hand on his grandson’s small head. Charlie didn’t understand what he said, only that it sounded like a long, melodic prayer. But it wasn’t his business anyway. It was between a great king, a little prince and good and bad spirits. And somehow, whether because of medications, Sarah’s love or her father’s blessing, Tommy suddenly started improving the next day. It was slow and not without hurdles, but he never got so close to death’s door.

Until this nightmare started.

----

„Morning, Tommy.”

Someone whispers and he forces his eyes open. It’s Arthur. He’s back, as uncle Charlie told him.

He didn’t leave. Not like Mum.

Even if Tommy thought he did.

Why would anyone stay?

Why would anyone choose him?

You should have died.

Nobody would miss you.

But Arthur would miss him. He’s sure about that. His big brother is here. He came back. Arthur still loves him.

„I’m here, brother. Uncle Charlie told me you missed me.”

Arthur’s scratchy voice interrupts his trail of thoughts. Why does he sound so weird?

Tommy feels weird too. Maybe he should say something to let him know.

„Are you okay? Does something hurt?”

He always knows if something’s wrong. Like Uncle Charlie.

Like Mum.

He involuntarily lets out a small, piteous sound.

Arthur strokes his face. His hand is so cold.

„I’m cold.” He mumbles. Somehow hasn’t even noticed before. But it’s really cold.

He doesn’t know why he’s so tired. He didn’t do anything.

„I know, little brother. You have a fever. They have to cool you down the best they can. But the nurse said it’s better than an hour ago.”

He just moans in discomfort. Dad would hit him for it. He hates whining. Boys can’t be whiny, just little girls.

But Dad hates everything about him. He hates every single breath he takes.

„Shit, I almost forgot about it. John sent you a chocolate. It’s huge, I bet it would take you a month to eat it even in better shape. He asked me to tell you he loves you. So does Ada. Little Finn couldn’t say anything but I know he would have said it too. Jeremiah Jesus and his wife send their best wishes. Isaiah painted you a picture with Ada’s help yesterday. Look, it’s here.

Arthur holds up a wrinkled paper with a wide grin. His eyes are still sad, though.

„He said it’s a horse, but I don’t know. I think it’s a colourful dog.”

„It has hooves.” Tommy mumbles. „And mane.”

„Oh. I thought those are paws and a very long ear.” He’s studying it for a while, then puts down on the nightstand. On top of the book Tommy hasn’t read. Because he can’t fucking turn the pages on his own.

„They don’t know.”

„Who and what?” Arthur looks confused.

„Jeremiah. He doesn’t know what I did.” He tries to lift his right arm. The only result of his effort is a painful twitch that makes him wince in pain. He doesn’t even try the left. It’s useless. Crippled, as Dad said.

„He does, actually. We talked this morning.” Arthur keeps his hand on his face and looks into his eyes intently. „He knows and he doesn’t fucking care, Tommy, because he and his entire family loves you.”

How strange to think that someone who isn’t family can love him. Dad always says he’s unworthy of love.

„He and Dad must read a different Bible.”

„Nobody else reads a Bible as fucked up as Dad.” Arthur looks angry. He must be annoyed by him.

Tommy doesn’t answer, doesn’t want Arthur to leave again.

„But you haven’t heard the best news yet. The cat is back.” His brother smiles excitedly. „Your cat, Tommy. Esmeralda. She isn’t lost. But it looks like she’s a little slut because she came back pregnant.”

Tommy feels something he can’t really place. Something… good? Or at least closer to it than anything for a while. Esmeralda disappeared overnight in late February. Nobody knew what happened to her, he even suspected that Dad figured out he keeps her at Charlie’s yard. But he didn’t dare to ask in case it wasn’t him. Dad would have announced it himself if he had killed her.

„So you must get better to meet them. There’s a new foal at the stables. Your unofficial cat is going to have kittens. Your a fucking godfather, little brother. All those babies will drive Uncle Charlie crazy.”

He wants to answer but he’s suddenly short of breath and has to cough. It really hurts and makes him dizzy.

„Fuck, Tommy.” Arthur says desperately. He keeps stroking his chest until he feels like he can breathe again. „Can you tell me how you feel? The doc said you have to tell if you’re worse.”

All Tommy can manage is a moaned „I’m fine”. It's a lie but he doesn't want to upset his brother.

Before Arthur could say anything, the door opens and two nurses enter the room. One of them is that young woman who’s always so kind to him. It must be part of her job.

„Sorry for interrupting you, boys. It’s time to take Thomas to the preoperative unit.

Chapter Text

Charlie can’t take his eyes off of Tommy. The nurses told them that one family member can stay with him in the preoperative room for a while, and to everyone’s surprise, Arthur immediately suggested Charlie. Nobody seemed to acknowledge that he isn’t a real family member, maybe they don’t even know. Even in Small Heath, people think he’s the Shelby kids’ real uncle.

Charlie can’t believe how quickly things turned from bad to worse, then even worse. On the way to this fucking cold room, Tommy started gasping for air again and a violent, wet cough erupted from him. And there was blood, significantly more than before, and it scared Charlie to death. Thank God, Arthur didn’t have to see this.

So Tommy has an oxygen mask on his face now, and he can’t decide how to feel about it. At least poor boy can breathe easier and it covers his unnervingly blue lips which remind Charlie of Sarah when they found her. And that’s not a sight he wants to associate with his Tommy at all. It’s enough to remember his desperation by the cut and relive it every time the lad wakes up from a nightmare, barely coherent and completely lost in his terrifying memories.
But seeing red staining the oxygen mask from the inside is even more horrible. One of the nurses – there are a lot of them, they’re flying around Tommy like busy bees – always cleans it and Charlie just prays inside that there won’t be more fucking coughs.

They gave him a lot of anxiety medication, even before they got here, during the various tests they did on him after the coughing started. He looks drowsy but tries to keep his sleepy eyes on his uncle. Charlie doesn’t like the look in them. That fucking resignation is not like his Tommy. Fuck, they didn’t even have a chance to talk about what happened last evening, when he wanted to refuse the initially planned surgery. His facial expression after he saw blood on the tissue Polly held to his mouth was very similar to it, and Charlie doesn’t even dare to think about what thoughts could be in his head.

Tommy tries to say something he can’t understand. He doesn’t dare to lift the oxygen mask from his ghastly pale face, just listens more intently in case he tries again. Probably just complaining about the cold, he’s been doing that for a while and doesn’t seem to understand why he can’t wear his hospital gown or have more blankets. So he’s visibly shivering and Charlie’s fingers are itching to get him a blanket but they already took them when they tried to reduce his fever. Now he only has a thin one that Charlie would barely call a blanket. Tommy was always cold when he was small, and it hasn’t changed much ever since. He hasn’t seen him without a shirt since he took the kids to a boat trip in the summer and they were swimming in the river. It hits him to see how much weight Tommy lost. Arthur says it started at the beginning of the year and escalated rapidly after their mum’s death. Fuck, Charlie could count his bones. Polly was right when she said he looked like a skeleton, though it sounded bloody insensitive.

Tommy is skinny. Sometimes he has trouble with eating. That’s normal, they just has to coax him sometimes to eat more frequently or offer him something enticing they know he really loves. Charlie thinks he’s pretty good at that by now. If nothing else, fruits, rice cakes, ice cream or soup are always manageable. Except now. Now everything is fucking hard.

Charlie hasn’t been this worried about his weight since he was born. Baby Tommy needed a lot of support in his first year. His digestive system was not yet developed enough to absorb nutritions, so he needed IV feeding for a few weeks. Charlie hated all the fucking IV’s attached to his tiny arms and legs, more than the tubes or wires which were equally invasive, maybe even more, but it seemed cruel to stick and poke such a vulnerable little one with needles. He could barely stand to watch when the poor baby was always probed and prodded. Later Tommy had a thin tube in his mouth, then in his adorable little nose that stayed for long after he was discharged. In the end, Charlie didn’t even notice it anymore, unless when the little troublemaker pulled it out and poor Sarah had to insert a new one, which was torturous for both of them and anyone who witnessed it. But little Tommy never was fussy for long. He knew they loved him more than anything, even when they had to do uncomfortable or painful things to him. He just looked up at his mum with teary eyes after he stopped coughing and gagging, and returned her smiles.

He hopes that one day Tommy will understand that everything they force on him these days is out of love. He knows Dr. Williams talked to the lad about the AngioVac thrombectomy. All he wanted to know was the mortality rate. Charlie sighs. It’s going to be a fucking long way to give his will to live back. But he won’t give up, whatever it takes. He already lost Sarah. He can’t lose him too. Tommy can hate him for it if he wants to, but he will drag him out of that fucking cut his mind seems to get trapped in.

He reaches for the boy’s right hand and gently squeezes his fingers. Tired blue eyes follow his movements sleepily.

„It’s gonna be okay, Tommy. A fucking pulmonary embolism is nothing compared to everything you’ve been through, eh. You’re going to be okay.”

Bloody hell, why does it sound like an empty promise?

Tommy tries to say something again and Charlie has to lean closer to hear it.

„I won’t.”

„Why not?”

„I’m…so tired.” Tommy tries to take a deep breath. It’s still shaky and shallow, despite his effort. „Of everything… my whole fucking life.”

„I know. And I understand.” Charlie starts stroking his face with his other hand. Still too warm. „You’ve been so strong all your life. You’ve made your Mum so proud every day.”

A weak cough. Thankfully, there’s no blood this time.

„Not enough. I wasn’t…enough. She left.”

Fuck. What is there to say he hasn’t said before?

„It’s not your fault, Tommy. Do you understand? You did everything to protect her and your siblings. You’re the bravest person I know. But it wasn’t your responsibility.” It was mine. „You were just a kid. You’re still barely eighteen. You can’t carry the entire world’s weight.”

Tommy doesn’t say a words, just looks at him with those sad eyes. Charlie wishes he could see right into his soul to see the truth. To see how much he loves and needs him.

„Mum didn’t choose to die because she didn’t love you. You should know that better than me. You love your siblings the same, don’t you? Your aunt, Curly and your friends. And I fucking hope you love me, too.” He lets out a short, mirthless laugh.

A small nod.

„I love you. All of you.”

Tommy needs a few shallow breaths before he could continue. How could he deteriorate so rapidly? Fucking Arthur Sr. He should be fighting for every single breath. He deserved to bleed to death or drown in the cut. Not Tommy. Not Sarah. Not those who Charlie loves the most in the entire world.

„I’m so- sorry. For everything. I never… wanted to hurt you.”

Charlie presses a kiss on his clammy forehead.

„I know. And you don’t have to apologize for anything. Just get better. Find your courage and strength to fight. For me, if you can’t do it for yourself. I swear that nothing will be the same as before. I would rather be damned forever than to let that fucking animal raise his hand at you one more time.”

Tommy looks like he wants to answer but the door suddenly opens and the small room is full of people.

Charlie recognizes Dr. Williams, Nurse Brown and the other nurse who’s been fussing around Tommy a lot in the past hour, but there’s an unfamiliar doctor too.

„Good morning again, Thomas. Mr. Strong.” He nods with a friendly smile. „She’s Dr. Doyle, our anesthesiologist. She is going administer the anesthesia, then I’m going to start the jugular and femoral vein cannulation with Nurse Brown.”

„Are you ready for a good sleep, Thomas?” The new doctor asks but doesn’t wait for an answer. She quickly reads Tommy’s chart and checks the monitors around him. Charlie immediately notices the frown on her face and doesn’t like it one bit.

„Mr. Strong, I have to ask you to say goodbye to Thomas and leave the room before we start the procedures.” Dr. Williams adds. „I can assure you that he’s going to be in good hands.”

They step back to provide some privacy for them to say goodbye. Fuck, how Charlie hates goodbyes. There were too many in his life. What if something happens and it’s a farewell?

„You’re strong, Tommy. You fought Death and laughed at his face more than once. You can do it, I know. Just one more time. Be strong for me. Me kamav tut, muro ćhavo.” He whispers so quietly that only Tommy can hear it. He feels tears pricking in his eyes but forces them back.

„Vi me tut kamav.” Tommy mumbles. Charlie kisses his forehead one more time before he releases his limp hand and stands up to join Arthur ans Polly in the waiting room.

----

Tommy was just taken to the operation room and Polly already sees Arthur is going to lose his marbles within an hour. He’s pacing nervously, wringing his hands, raking them through his hair ever minute. Charlie is just staring at his untouched coffee as if he could read the answers to the mysteries of the universe from it. She is the only one who has the strength and sensibility to keep her composure.

Thirty minutes.

Arthur is nervously mumbling something she can’t hear clearly. The only thing she can decipher is „fucking dad”. Well, that sums it up nicely. Though a small voice in the back of her mind constantly reminds her that all this shit would have never happened if Sarah had been stronger and hadn’t killed herself. Poor woman should have turned to her. Polly is convinced she could have helped her. But she kept everything bottled up to herself instead of opening up. Just like her son.

Charlie stands up at fifty minutes and continues his staring by the window. It’s a nice day. She hopes Jeremiah has enough wit to take the baby out to the warm sunshine. He has a kid, so hopefully does. John and Ada should spend some time outside too. It would do good for them.

Her thoughts wander to her own precious children. She hopes wherever they are, they enjoy the spring. She hopes Michael’s wrist has healed properly. It’s a fucking injustice they took them away from her. Tommy should have known better than to take him to the hospital and then lie so clumsily like he’s never done before. Although they said the broken bone in Michael’s wrist got infected, she’s sure she could have handled it. She took care of fractured bones before. They didn’t rush to the hospital every time her brother was too rough to Tommy or the others, just in really bad cases, or when Sarah became too hysterical.

At the end of the first hour, Arthur starts fidgeting with Tommy’s old stuffed horse. She doesn’t really understand why an eighteen years old boy needs it, even less why Arthur is clutching it in his hands like a talisman now. It’s just a silly toy that should have been packed in a box years ago. Sometimes she’s still surprised by the sentimentality of her nephews. Though if anyone, Tommy needs a talisman.

Polly can’t believe how unlucky he is. Is there anything easy with this boy? Ever since he was born, one hurdle comes after another. Though what to expect when he was born on Friday the 13th?

She should have known they couldn’t expect anything good on the day of her mother’s funeral. It was a few days before Christmas, Sarah was five months pregnant with Tommy and Polly could see she and Arthur Sr. had a row again. She seemed distracted during the whole ceremony, but her uneasiness reached it’s peak when the sun suddenly came out of the cover of thick clouds. A shadow fell on Sarah’s face. She looked up and turned deathly pale.
Polly didn’t understand at first. Sarah grabbed her husband’s arm but he roughly pushed her away which made her stagger.

„Somebody get her a chair, for fuck’s sake, she’s pregnant!” Polly snapped and put her arms around the younger woman’s waist.

The priest gave her a condemning look, he probably rarely heard the mourners curse in the middle of a ceremony. But an altar boy finally found a little humanity in himself and got a stool from somewhere.

„Fucking hell, just go on with it!” Arthur yelled furiously before he turned to his wife with a disgusted look. „I can’t believe you can’t fucking collect yourself for my mother’s funeral! Could you be more useless?”

„Please, Mr. Shelby!” The priest was appalled, and Polly wasn’t sure if it was about her brother’s malice towards his wife or his choice of words.

„Jesus Christ, do it then! I’ll help your wife, you stone-hearted bastard.” Polly said angrily and led Sarah further away from the crowd.

The altar boy was nervously running around them until she grew too frustrated and ordered him to put down that damn stool, bring some water if possible and leave them alone. She crouched down next to Sarah and swept her long hair behind her shoulder. She immediately noticed that the young woman’s hand was shakily stroking her belly, which was significantly smaller than when she was expecting little Arthur. But Polly told her that every pregnancy is different and she shouldn’t be worried. She considered herself a good midwife and herbalist woman and helped her sister-in-law deliver her first baby after an uneventful pregnancy. What more could an arrogant doctor offer? She heard awful stories from many women about their childbirth in hospitals. That’s simply not how it works in the Shelby family, and she suspects it applies to Sarah’s family too. God, they were more old-fashioned than the Lees.

„What’s wrong, Sarah?” Polly asked.

„The cross, Polly.” Sarah whispered with tears in her eyes. „The shadow of the cross.”

It took Polly a minute to realise why she was so upset.

„Goodness, sweetheart!” She laughed forcefully. „Are you this scared of an old Gypsy superstition?”

„My mother always warned me that if the shadow of a cross falls on a woman with child she will have a miscarriage. What if it will happen, Polly? What if I just killed my baby?” A single tear ran down her white face.

„You forget the key part, darling. It happens to unmarried girls and adulterous women. As far as I know, you are neither of them.” Polly surveyed Sarah suspiciously.

„Of course I’m not.” She answered hastily. Polly’s dark eyes were still lingering on her. „But I can still be afraid. Who says it can’t happen to anyone?”

„Well, I assume you’re familiar with the rhyme of protection, don’t you? Say it, then.”

Sarah did as she was told.

"Cigno trušul pal handako
Hin ada ušalinako;
The žiav me pro ušalin,
Ajt' mange lašavo na kin.

Sar e praytin kad' chasarel,
Save šilc barvâl marel,
Pal basavo te prasape,
Mre čajori mojd kâmâle."

„Are you better now? Don’t worry, this will protect you and the baby, I’ll make you a nice cup of tea from my herbs when we get home.”

But it didn’t save them from anything, and Polly has never stopped wondering about that day. Tommy should have been safe. Yet he was born less than a month later. A fragile and sick extremely premature baby, already facing too many challenges for such a tiny thing. Was it just misfortune or a curse? She didn’t know. She still doesn’t.

----

Arthur feels like he’s losing his mind. He keeps glancing at the clock on the wall every minute, waiting for time to fucking move but nothing happens. Is it possible that time actually slowed down somehow? It’s just as torturous as the night when Tommy cut his arms so fucking brutally. Funny that he naively thought they just need to close his gaping wounds, put some stitches in and he would be fine. Tommy died that night. His fucking, precious heart stopped twice. He still can’t believe it. His little brother was dead. He almost lost him. And then Arthur would have been all alone.

He still had John, Ada and Finn, but that wouldn’t be the same. Tommy has always been special to him, it was a feeling he always shared with Mum. Maybe because of the circumstances of his birth – though Arthur didn’t understand the severity of it back then -, or because Tommy made him a big brother for the first time, a role that changed his life forever. And the age gap between them was three years, nothing compared to eight, which separated him from John. He loves them all and would do anything for them. But he needs Tommy like air.

And Tommy died at the weekend. He was literally dead for minutes before they brought him back. The thought is too much to bear.

Fucking hell, his little brother has nine lives like a cat. No wonder he loves them so much. Though he likes all animals, and they always listen to him. Once Mum said their grandfather could charm dogs and horses, and Tommy is the same. Stray dogs around Charlie’s yard follow him everywhere and the shy barn cats that find shelter in the hay always come to him for cuddles. And of course there are horse. His brother has a special bond with them.

But how many lives did he use already and how many have left? Arthur prays there are still enough of them to survive today.

He wasn’t supposed to know it but he accidentally heard Aunt Polly talk about Tommy with Mrs. Thorne once when he was small. He won some kind of competition at school and they were all very proud of him. Aunt Polly said that she had never thought Tommy would have been such a bright little boy after everything he’s been through. She said he was born without a detectable heart rate and had to be resuscitated. She said he almost died a month later again. It made Arthur’s blood run cold. He has always known his little brother had a rocky start, he remembered how long it took before he was home with them, how worried Mum was about him all the time when he had a cough or didn’t want to eat. Even years later, he always got the worst of every flu or bug in the house. When Arthur had a stuffy nose and soar throat, Tommy ended up with sinusitis or serious upper respiratory infection. If they had a stomach bug, Tommy threw up everything for days and got close to dehydration.

Arthur loved to help Mum taking care of his baby brother, it made him feel so big and important. He would have done anything to protect their Tommy from any danger. It took him many years to realise that Mum tried to turn everything into a game to make it easier for them. When baby Tommy had to take a lot of medications or formula, Mum told him they were potions. The tube in his tiny button nose was a magic device that gave him strength. He wasn’t just a sick baby, he was a little prince who had to be protected from an evil wizard. Even after Tommy got better and didn’t even remember what happened to him as a baby, Arthur and he played games like that for years.

But there were real monsters Arthur couldn’t protect him from.

His fingers are playing with the ears of his brother’s plush horse. God, how Tommy loved it when he was small. He instinctively finds the neat little stitches that keep the left ear in place. His thoughts wander back to the day when Mum needed to give emergency treatment to the most valuable toy in the world.

Little Tommy was so excited about starting school. Arthur would have noticed it by himself, but he had been babbling about it all Summer. He didn't even mind that they couldn't afford to buy him brand new school uniform. He got Arthur's hand me down and it was okay they're brothers and all brothers do that. Mum had to fold back the trouser legs several times and sew them, so she could adjust the length when Tommy grew taller.

The only thing he didn't like was that everyone expected him to leave his plush horse at home.

Arthur said:

"You can't bring it to school, Tommy. Big boys don't do that. You're going to have a lot of new friends to play with, or you can search for me at the schoolyard. You know what, I'll wait for you by the big tree anyway. You might get lost if you tried to find me."

Aunt Polly said:

"Oh, don't be a baby, Thomas. You can't carry that stuffed horse around forever. Why would you need it at school when you're going to be busy with filling your little head with knowledge?"

Uncle Charlie said:

"Your little horse wouldn't be happy at school, Tommy. Have you ever seen one going to school? Just leave it at home, my boy, it will be waiting for you and you can play with it after you come home."

Curly said:

"I don't know, Tommy. A horse at school? Charlie is right, they don't go there. They never do. What could they learn from teachers? They're smarter than us."

Dad said:

"If you dare to take that fucking shit with you, I'll make sure it would be the last time you see it. You're enough of a disappointment by yourself, you little mongrel, don't dare to bring more disgrace to me by carrying that damn thing around like a fucking baby. If I hear another word about it, I'll burn the fucking horse myself and give you a good spanking."

Dad's opinion was the worst, and Arthur saw that it made Tommy really scared. He didn't want his horse to get hurt or die. It liked to get dry by the fire after being washed but he always made sure to keep it at a safe distance not to fall into the flames. But Mum started yelling with Dad who roared back and it went on like this for a long time. Tommy didn't seem to listen, just absentmindedly gathered all the peas into a neat little pile on his plate. Arthur patted his bony knee under the table.

It was the last day of Summer, and the boys were playing with their baby brother on the thick, fluffy blanket they all used as a playmat. John was sitting on Arthur's lap while Tommy was entertaining him. Chubby fingers were reaching for the precious plush horse and Tommy let the baby hold onto it until he tried to stuff its tail into his mouth.

"No, baby Johnny. We don't eat horses, that's barbarism. We just ride and pet them." He warned John. Arthur didn't even know how Tommy had known words like that.

"You were chewing on its ear all the time, Tommy." Arthur laughed. "Do you remember, Mum?"

"I do." Mum looked up from the pile of clothes she was folding on the couch and smiled at them. "Aunt Polly swore he did it because he was hungry but he started whining every time I tried to put some food into his mouth. But it's Tommy's own toy, he can do whatever he wants with it."

"See?" Tommy turned back to John who let out a loud shriek in protest against the lack of attention. "I told you, John. You can't chew my horsie, only your teething toy."

He was playfully making the horse dance out of John's reach and started singing him a nursery rhyme while Arthur made the baby's hands clap.

"Ride a cock-horse to Banburry Cross,
To see a fine lady upon a white horse.
Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
She shall have music wherever she goes.

Ride a cock-horse to Banburry Cross,
To buy little Johnny a galloping horse.
It trots behind and it ambles before,
And Johnny shall ride till he can ride no more."

By the end if the song, John was laughing loudly and Arthur mussed Tommy's flippy hair. It had felt weird when suddenly Tommy hadn't been the baby in the family anymore, but he was such a good big brother. It made Arthur really proud every single day.

"What will we do without the best big brothers during school year, little John?" Mum said with a smile and bent down to stroke her youngest's round head. He barely had any hair, unlike Tommy at this age.

At first it had been strange for Arthur to see how different his little brothers had been. He only realised how sick Tommy had been as a baby when he'd seen John who had already been bigger and heavier at birth than Tommy when he'd come home for the first time. The new baby had seemed huge compared to Arthur's memories of Tommy, but everyone had called him perfect and people had congratulated to Mum for giving birth to a strong and healthy baby. He remembered how worried Uncle Charlie had been about Mum during her pregnancy, how nervous she had been about the baby and how withdrawn Aunt Polly had seemed compared to the time when she'd been expecting Tommy. She had offered Mum to make her teas from herbs and hadn't protested when she had taken all the vitamins the doctor advised her instead and had gone to every single appointments. Dad had just growled that she would have regretted if she gave him 'another degenerate weakling like that' and pointed at Tommy who had been feeding a crow with pieces of meat he'd saved for it while he and Arthur had been helping Mum to cook. Later that day, Arthur had seen Mum pouring Dad's most expensive whiskey down the toilet. She hadn't seemed to regret it, not even when Dad had come home and backhanded her so hard she had almost fallen. She had just hissed at Dad that if he hadn't wanted a degenerate then he should had fucking stop beating her.

Arthur loved his little brothers equally but somehow seeing John thriving since his first cry made him appreciate Tommy even more at the same time. Nothing had changed, but he finally understood why Mum always called him their miracle. John was the healthiest little boy and made everyone happy. Reaching milestones was natural for him. Mum had been cheering and kissed his chubby cheeks proudly when he had rolled over for the first time or started reaching for objects and grasping them.
But it had been different from the tearful smiles and cuddles Tommy had earned from her. Arthur remembered that even Uncle Charlie had had tears in his eyes when Tommy had called him Dada for the first time. It had taken a while for the innocent baby to learn that his Dad is the grumpy, yelling big man who had always pushed him away roughly, not Uncle Charlie who had showed him pretty horses and been bouncing him on his knees while they'd been watching them for hours.

Tommy held his horse tight to his chest when John's attention turned to his teething toy Arthur offered him, walked to the couch and affectionately leaned to Mum's side.

"Mummy, can my horsie come to school with me tomorrow?" He asked and started stroking her hair.

Mum pulled him onto her lap and wrapped her arms around his body. Tommy was still so small. He didn't look ready for real school at all, no matter how smart he was. It made Arthur worry to think of how the other kids would have treated his little brother.

"Why do you need your horsie, muro tikno princo? I know your anxious about the new school and it's comforting to hold, but you're a brave big boy now. You'll be fine without its help, I know. Beside that, you'll be busy with learning a lot of exciting things and making new friends. Your horse would be bored there all day, or he would get lost. You can leave him with your baby brother and me. We will take care of him until you come home to play with it and tell us everything about your day." She held Tommy a little tighter and kissed his cheek lovingly. "I can't believe my baby is going to big school! I'm so proud of you muro tikno ćudipen."

"I haven't learnt anything yet, Mummy." He protested but snuggled closer to her.

"I'm just grateful for having a wonderful son like you, my Tommy. For all of you. My three little Musketeers."

Tommy started playing with Mum's hair. He curled up a silky lock of it around his index finger.

"But what if I'll be dumb and can't learn anything? Dad always says I'm stupid."

Mum seemed sad and angry for a moment before she smiled at him. Her smile was always like the sun in the morning.

"The only dumb thing you could do is to underestimate yourself. You're a bright little boy, you will learn everything. I would love you the same if you had awful grades, but that will never happen, avdĭn. You're so clever. Your father doesn't know anything."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. And I know that Uncle Charlie thinks the same. We love you without conditions, Tommy. We'll always do."

Arthur could tell that Tommy believed her. He saw the exact moment when his little brother decided to be brave. Arthur thought he held himself to this because he saw him press a kiss at his horse's muzzle and leave it on the bed before they went down to have breakfast.

Mum seemed to be in a weird mood all morning. Arthur thought she must have been almost as anxious as Tommy, who couldn't force down a single bite of the banana pancake Mum made for them, not even when she put honey on it to make it more inviting.

"You must eat, Tommy." Aunt Polly said firmly. "It's going to be a hard day for you and God knows if a picky eater like you would eat what they give you for lunch."

"Jesus, Polly, they can have fruits and milk between classes, you know that. Don't scare my son." Mum stared at Aunt Polly intently and stroked Tommy's head.

"We can always have cheese sandwich for lunch, Tommy. You like it, don't you? There are often veggie nuggets, too. And you can have yogurt for dessert. We can select what to eat each morning at registration. I'll help you if you want." Arthur said reassuringly.

He could have imagined his little brother standing helplessly and frozen, knowing he wouldn't be able to eat from anxiety.

Arthur didn't know when Tommy sneaked back to their room for his horse in the morning rush. He suspected it must have been after the stressful breakfast. He only knew after that disastrous day the horse was in his too big backpack when they left home after Mum had quickly taken a photo of the two of them, hand in hand and wearing their school uniform. Arthur was grinning proudly at his little brother whose previous excitement completely disappeared, leaving nothing but nervousness behind.

He barely noticed when Aunt Polly waved at them from the door. Silently shook his head when Mum asked if he wanted her to carry his backpack instead of him, since he was visibly struggling with the heavy weight. His little face only lit up a little when he spotted Uncle Charlie at the end of the street.

"Morning, lads. I came to accompany you on your big day, Tommy."

"Yes, it's a big day for us all, isn't it, Uncle Charlie?" Mum smiled at their uncle. "Our little Tommy is a big boy now. He's going to learn a lot of exciting things."

"Aye, and he's gonna be the smartest kid in fucking Holy Family Primary School. We're going to be so proud of him." Uncle Charlie retorted and patted Tommy's narrow shoulders. He swayed a little.

"Christ, Tommy, that backpack is bigger than you. Let me carry it before you drop dead from exhaustion before you would step into the school." He didn't wait for an answer, just freed the little boy from his huge backpack.

Tommy gave him a relieved look and clung onto Mum's had tighter.

"Won't the other kids laugh at me if you carry it for me?" He asked tentatively and started fidgeting with the hem of his jumper.

"No, Tommy, it's okay. You're tiny, everyone can see that it's too heavy for you." Arthur said and kissed his head. He wasn't sure about it but he would have never done something like that to small kids like his brother.

Tommy seemed more relaxed on the forty minutes way to school. Though he immediately tensed when they arrived.

"Si daravno, Dej. Nashtig zhav khere tusa?" He whispered, but Arthur was listening closely.

Mum crouched down next to him and held his little, freckled face between her hands.

"Na, muro zoralo tikno princo. Te na bistres, tu nashti te aźukeres te kezdis e ćaćutni śkòla sa o milaj. Me paćav ande tute. Tu ka aves but inteligentno."

"Čačes?"

"Čačes.” She promised and pulled him and Arthur into a big hug.

To Arthur’s surprise, Tommy was beaming with excitement again when he slipped his small hand into his palm.

„Let’s go to school, Arthur!”

„That’s the spirit.” Uncle Charlie said and patted Tommy’s head.

When Arthur looked back as he was navigating his little brother through the buzzing crowd, he saw that Mum was smiling and wiping her eyes with Uncle Charlie’s arm around her shoulders. He thought he felt the same pride they did.

He thought everything was going to be fine. Tommy came running to him after the first class and he was almost bouncing in excitement. To Arthur’s surprise, he was clutching his horse to his chest.

„The teacher read us a story and said that we can read it by ourselves soon. Isn’t it wonderful, Arthur? I can’t wait to learn how to read!”

„Yeah, it is. I’m glad you enjoyed your class. I see you brought your horsie.” His heart was heavy. He hoped it wouldn’t get Tommy into trouble.

„He wanted to come. But I didn’t play with him in class, I know I have to pay attention and I did, Arthur, really.”

„I know, little brother. Will you come after next class, too? Or you already made new friends?”

„Not yet, but I’m trying. But I need you, Arthur, so be here, okay?” Tommy looked up at him worriedly.

„Sure, I’ll be here. Don’t forget to eat something for lunch, eh.” Arthur warned him and ruffled his hair a bit.

Tommy nodded, and Arthur hoped everything would be alright.

But his little brother didn’t come to him after the next class. Nor the one after. Or after. Arthur was so worried about him he could barely pay attention. He asked his friends if they saw Tommy but they didn’t.

By the end of the day, he was a bundle of nerves. Mum was waiting for them at the gate, but Tommy was nowhere to be seen. She asked Arthur about him but he couldn’t say much.
There were only a few parents left and Mum looked more nervous with every passing minute. Then Arthur suddenly noticed Tommy’s teacher, leading the little boy by his hand. He held a very dirty stuffed horse in his other arm and tears were streaming down on his face.

„O Devla.” Mum whispered and rushed to them with Arthur in her heels.

Tommy immediately clung onto Mum when he saw her. The teacher empathically explained everything about his unfortunate first day. During the second break, four bigger kids had made fun of him for being such a baby to bring a toy to school. One of them had snatched it from his hands and they had started throwing it like a ball. Tommy had asked them to stop again and again but the hadn’t listened. Instead of that, they’d ripped the horse’s ear off and thrown it to the ground, making sure to step on it when they’d ran back to class with a laugh. Meanwhile little Tommy had been crying, kneeling on the ground with his dirty, mangled comfort toy until his teacher had come for him and led him back to the classroom. She’s helped to clean the poor horse as much as she could, given detention to the heartless boys and an extra glass of milk to Tommy. The heartbroken little boy couldn’t had eaten all day.

„I’m sorry, Mrs. Shelby.” The teacher said. „We don’t tolerate bullying and aggressive behavior at all in the Holy Family. I’m going to talk to the other boys’ parents right now. What happened to little Thomas is unacceptable.”

When she said goodbye with one last smile at Tommy, Mum took his backpack off without a word and told them to go home where they can talk about today and patch up the battered horse. Arthur could see how upset she was from her tightly pressed lips and the way she held Tommy’s hand.

Arthur felt awful. It was his responsibility to watch over Tommy, he had promised Mum during the Summer multiple times, she hadn’t even had to ask. He’d been at the same building, completely nonchalant, while his little brother had been crying. The guilt was eating him from inside.

When they reached Watery Lane, Tommy suddenly broke into tears again and desperately exclaimed: „I don’t want to to go home! Dad said he would burn my horsie.”

„Dad isn’t at home, sweetheart. He went to the boxing ring, and I’m sure he’s going to get drunk in a pub after he’s done. He doesn’t need to know what happened today. We’ll fix your horse, I promise.” Mum hugged him tightly and Arthur joined them. He hoped he hadn’t disappointed her when he hadn’t protected Tommy,

As soon as they entered the house, Mum gently freed the poor stuffed horse from Tommy’s embrace, fished its ripped off ear from his pocket and put it in the washing machine. Arthur saw that she whispered something to Aunt Polly’s ear, probably to stop her from starting a tirade.

So Aunt Polly just announced that she would make a treacle tart if anyone’s interested and disappeared in the kitchen. Mum sat down on the rug next to Tommy, who was sadly sniffling in Arthur’s embrace.

„I’m so sorry your first day wasn’t like you imagined, muro ćhavo. But not all of them will be like this.”

„How do you know?” Tommy raised his big blue eyes at her and it made Arthur’s heart sink to see how sad they were.

„Because I’ll teach you how to fight, Tommy.” He said quickly before Mum could answer. „I’ll teach you how to box, so you can protect yourself from those evil little shits.”

Mum gave him a warning look for the phrasing but didn’t protest. She started stroking Tommy’s soft hair,

„Well, that’s how I know. Your wonderful big brother will teach you to protect yourself. And I’m sure the evil boys parents are giving them a lecture at this moment and they won’t be so cruel to you anymore. Your teacher is going to keep her eyes on you at the first weeks, to make sure you’re okay,”

„And my horse? Can you cure him, Mum?” His eyes grew even wider and they were full of hope and trust.

„Of course, darling. We’ll fix him in a minute.”

And they really did. Once the horse came out of the washing machine and tried in the afternoon sun, Mum sew it back so perfectly Arthur would have never told it had an accident. Tommy was back to his joyous self and asked if Mum could put a little band-aid on it until it heals, which she did without a word. Everything was back to normal. Tommy even managed to eat a slice of Polly’s treacle tart, and they all laughed at baby John who was drooling and mimicking eating in Mum’s arms.

Later that evening, when the boys cuddled up on the couch to watch a cartoon, Mum disappeared to her bedroom for a sort while and came back with a small white box. Arthur knew she kept some of Tommy’s things in it from when he was a baby. She took out a small silver amulet on a red ribbon. It was familiar to Arthur, he was sure he saw it above Tommy’s crib when he was very small.

„Look, Tommy.” She offered the amulet to him. „It’s something your grandfather gave you when you were just a teeny-tiny baby.”

„O thagar le Ciganonge?” Tommy was amazed and carefully reached for it.

„Ova, muro tikno princo. It was him. You were very sick, and I was very scared. He blessed you and left this amulet for you. I know it helped you to heal. I thought it could protect you now, too.

So Tommy never took his beloved horse to school again. But he had a great king’s lucky charm sewn into an inner pocket of his backpack where nobody could see it. But it gave him courage to know that the spirit of his grandfather is watching over him.

Arthur sighs and rubs the horse’s ear. He wishes he knew where that talisman is. His brother needs it’s protection again. Maybe more than ever.

Chapter Text

More than two hours passed since Charlie joined them in the waiting room. What takes so long? Arthur forgot half of the things Dr. Williams explained to them, but he's sure he said it takes one or two hours. Then what the fuck are they doing? How is Tommy?

Aunt Polly announced she needed another coffee and left a few minutes ago. Or was it longer? He doesn’t even know how much time has passed.

She’s back. It must have been longer then.

What is going on? Where is Tommy?

Is he fine or are they fighting for his life again?

Suddenly there's a calloused hand on his nervously bouncing knee to still it.

It's Uncle Charlie. He’s always here when something happens to Tommy.

"Calm down, lad. He's going to be fine. They must be done by now."

"But he has that fucking fever, and he was so weak. What if... if..." Damn, he can't even say it.

What if my Tommy dies and this time nobody can bring him back to me?

"No." Uncle Charlie says firmly. "Don't even think about that. He's strong. Always has been."

"I know. It’s just fucking hard to find myself in a bloody hospital all over again, waiting for news about my little brother. It's like he's stuck in here. We thought he's going to be fine when he came home as a baby. I remember Mum said he had to go back to see doctors sometimes but not for long. Just a visit. Just a few hours or a day. Then fucking Dad did that shit in the summer and he was back for weeks. And then again and again for years when he fucking beat him like a brutal animal. I didn't realise how fucked up we are. How many times Dad landed my little brother here. Jesus, there were many times when Aunt Polly took care of him. And now this."

Uncle Charle rubs his chin thoughtfully.

"He went through a lot. But we're here to help. We won't let your father ever touch him. I swore to him before the anesthesiologist and Dr. Williams came in with the nurses. It's enough."

"Okay. I don't want Dad anywhere near him. Not even if he came on his fucking knees to beg for his forgiveness. Which he would never do."

"No. I've always known he never loved Tommy. You were just a wee boy, you didn't understand. But what father leaves his wife and premature baby alone for three months? What father risks his own son’s life and then beats him and his other children?” Uncle Charlie looks disgusted. „You all deserve better than him.”

„I see now. I should have never trusted Dad. He wanted me to be like him. But I would never hurt my little brother. I would never turn my back on him. I will sit here forever if he needs me but he will never be alone in a fucking hospital.”

Then the door finally opens and Dr. Williams and Nurse Brown enter the small room. Arthur’s heart sinks but he scrambles to his feet. He sees from the corner of his eyes that Uncle Charlie does the same.

„Thomas is in the recovery room.” The doctor says and he feels like a heavy weight was lifted from him. He takes a glance at the clock. Two and a half hours. „We removed the blood clot that blocked the artery in his lung. We are waiting for him to start breathing on his own and wake up.”

„What?” Arthur interrupts him. „He’s not breathing on his own? Why?”

„With Thomas’ medical history, it isn’t uncommon that he’s more susceptible to breathing problems after anesthesia.” The nurse explains. Arthur’s head starts spinning.

„Indeed.” Dr. Williams agrees. „It also took him a little longer than usual to wake up from anesthesia after his initial injuries. His body hasn’t recovered from that shock yet, he had a high fever and the AngioVac procedure took a toll on him. There were some complications, though none of them were entirely unexpected. His pulmonary artery perforated during the procedure, leading to significant blood loss. We treated it with coil embolization, a minimally invasive procedure and we could quickly stop the bleeding. However, his oxygen levels dropped due to blood loss, hypotension and the anesthesia itself. They are still low but he’s improving.”

Arthur can’t believe it. The doctor told them about the possible complications but he also said it’s safer than other options. He said the blood loss is minimal compared to surgery. He said Tommy would be fine. It doesn’t sound like fine at all. Uncle Charlie looks shocked. Aunt Polly looks fucking angry.

„How do you mean his pulmonary artery perforated? How could this happen to my nephew?” She demands answers, and for once, Arthur agrees with her. He needs to know. „He’s here because he almost bled to death, and you fucking rupture an artery when you are supposed to heal him? This hospital is fucking unacceptable.”

„Please, Mrs. Gray, let’s keep our cool. It’s a risk I warned you of when we discussed Thomas’ treatment. It’s and unfortunate but not uncommon complication. Any intervention that involves catheters and forceful aspiration carries a risk of vessel damage, including rupture.The higher pressure and more fragile nature of arteries means a higher risk.”

Arthur sees that Aunt Polly wants to argue but Uncle Charlie touches her forearm and gives her a warning look. To his surprise, his aunt keeps quiet, even though she’s visibly fuming.

„We’re administering him blood transfusion, fluids and antibiotics. The fever is still lingering but we’re monitoring him closely.” The doctor continues and Arthur just want him to shut up, he doesn’t want to hear more bad new. „Although, the surgery we planned for today evening is out of question now. We must postpone it until Thomas’s vital signs are better. Nerve and artery reconstruction is a long and complicated procedure that can take several hours, similarly to the initial vein and nerve repair we performed on his arms. He couldn’t tolerate another anesthesia within such a short time. We do what we can for him but I have to warn you that it means a higher risk of permanent damage.”

„When can we see him?” Uncle Charlie asks and Arthur is grateful for it, he has to be with his little brother, he just forgot how to speak for a moment.

„Not yet.” Nurse Brown gives them a sympathetic look. „We will inform you when he is stable, awake and transferred back to the ICU. But I will keep you updated about his progress until then.”

----

Charlie is shocked, to say the least. He wishes for the millionth time that he could turn back time. He should have told Sarah he loved her when she was just a young girl, full of life and unaware of the danger and sorrow that follows man like Arthur Sr. like a shadow everywhere. She was so naive and easy to manipulate. That fucking man saw that in her, saw a beautiful, innocence Gypsy princess whose family symbolized everything he could have never reached on his own, and he wanted her. Not to love, to break, until she lost everything she’s ever been and walked into the fucking cut on a misty morning.

He should have convinced her to leave him before Tommy was born, take her and Arthur to somewhere on the January and raise her kids as his own at a safe, nice place, far from Small Heath she hated so much.

He shouldn’t have been such a fucking coward who witnessed her suffering and did nothing that could have really helped. Comforting words and time with them when he acted more like a father than an uncle didn’t mean shit.

Sarah is dead. Tommy wants to die. Charlie doesn’t know how he is supposed to live without them.

The world would be fucking empty and cold without Tommy.

Damn Arthur Shelby Sr., it’s always that bastard who pushes that boy to the verge of death. Like now. Like three years ago. Like when he was a baby, only out of hospital for two months, and that scoundrel put his life in danger.

Charlie could never forget that day when Sarah called him from the hospital in a shaky voice. He was in the middle of trimming a horse’s hooves but immediately dropped everything and yelled for Curly to take care of the surprised stallion.

It took a little while to find Tommy and Sarah at the hospital. He was so familiar at the NICU but it was the pediatric intensive care unit. Sarah was sitting next to the cot where pale and small baby Tommy was sleeping with an oxygen mask on his face. Charlie could see an IV in his arm and a pulse oxymeter on his tiny feet. He immediately recognized the electrodes of the apnea monitor on his chest. Shit, he was way too familiar with these equipments.

„What happened?” He asked quietly.

Sarah was rhythmically stroking her son’s head. Charlie knew how soft his wispy baby hair felt.

„Respiratory Distress Syndrome. They gave him surfactants to improve his lung function. Like when he was born. He’s on BiPAP now. They told me it’s a very high level of respiratory support. It delivers him a higher pressure during inhalation and a lower pressure during exhalation.” Sarah said in a monotone tone as if she was reading from a book or reciting a lesson she had learnt. „They said it unloads respiratory muscles and can help to avoid mechanical ventilation but it’s just as effective. I don’t want that for my baby again, Charlie. But they said it can be uncomfortable, that he won’t like it but he will get used to it. And I know by now that when they say uncomfortable, it means painful. My little Tommy is in pain again.”

Charlie held her shaking hand and lightly squeezed it. He could feel her wedding ring under his fingers. The despised jewel was mocking him every time he touched it.

„He’s not in pain. He’s sleeping.”

Sarah didn’t seem to hear him.

„My baby is in pain. He’s on this earth for five months, which should be only two, and he suffered more than me in twenty-one years. Because I’m such an awful mother I can’t take care of him. I couldn’t even carry him to term and he almost died because of me. And I fail every day ever since he was born. I don’t deserve him. He deserves a good mother. A better one, not like me.”

Charlie held her hand between his palms and looked into her beautiful eyes intently.

„Sarah, listen to me. You’re a good mother to both your boys. None of what happened to Tommy is your fault. You did nothing wrong when he was born and you’re the most devoted and caring mum I’ve ever seen. How can you think such foolishness?”

„How do you know?” She whispered.

„Because I saw you with them. God, I’ve seen you with Tommy every single day for three months. I see how you love him, darling. And I know you do everything you can to protect him.”

„But I couldn’t. I left him alone for just a minute and he’s here.”

„Sarah. What happened to him?” He asked firmly but not threateningly. He didn’t want to be like her fucking husband, just needed her to focus and tell him what had happened.

„Arthur. My fucking husband happened to him. What else? His father.” She spat out the word like a curse. „I was in the living room with the boys. Tommy was a little whiny all day, I could barely make him eat anything and he threw up most of it in the end. even what I gave him with his feeding tube. He was exhausted and just fell asleep when Arthur asked for something to eat. I didn’t want to rouse him, so I left him there. I told Arthur to watch over him and tell me immediately if he wakes up or anything happens. God, how could I ask for such responsibility from my three years old? But I just made him a buttered toast, Charlie, it didn’t take more than five minutes, I swear!”

Sarah started crying and Charlie pulled her closer. To his heart, where she belonged.

„You did nothing wrong, Sarah. You can’t keep your eyes on him every seconds of the day. And Arthur didn’t have to do anything. He watches Tommy all the time, doesn’t he? You didn’t left them alone in the house for hours.”

„But it was long enough for this to happen.” She cried desperately. „My husband came home, and I didn’t notice. He signed Arthur not to make a sound, and you know how my sweet boy craves his attention. He trusted him and thought they’re playing. But that bastard started smoking, though I told him many times he cant do it in the house because it’s dangerous for Tommy. God, he shouldn’t smoke at all with children in the house! He blew his fucking cigarette smoke right into Tommy's little face. What kind of beast does that? He knows his respiratory system is compromised, I told him a hundred times. Then little Arthur called for me because he saw his baby brother wasn’t well. He was short of breath, his skin and lips turned bluish and he made awful grunting sounds with each exhales. His little chest was heaving so hard and his nostrils was flaring as he struggled to breathe. I picked him up and ran to the neighbor with Arthur, and the old woman let me call an ambulance. Polly arrived before the ambulance, she said she would take care of Arthur.”

Charlie interrupted her. „Why didn’t you call it from home, Sarah?”

„Because I didn’t know where my phone was. I left it on the couch, but he took it. I know he did. He asked me with a devilish grin if I wanted to call someone. He would have just sat there and watch my baby suffocating from his damn smoke. And I lied. I lied for that beast and told the doctors that my senile aunt was smoking in the house, not him, because he fucking crawled into my head and convinced me they will take my sons away if something happens to Tommy.”

„You didn’t lie for him. You lied for your boys. Arthur was smart and you saved Tommy.”

„What does it make me if my little boy has to save me and his brother all the time? If he wasn’t brave enough to run for help on the night when Tommy was born, he would be dead. Maybe we both would be.”

She looked up at him with a haunted look and Charlie felt his heart sink. She had never wanted to talk about that night during those ninety days they spent together by Tommy’s side. Never. But now words were pouring out of her.

„Nobody helped us. Nobody.” She whispered. „Not my husband. Not Polly. Just my little Arthur. I was unwell all afternoon but Polly said it’s normal. She said it’s just the weather front, because we had that blizzard. But I knew it wasn’t. I never felt like that when I was expecting Arthur. I knew something was wrong. My husband said I was pathetic and hysterical, and went to the boxing ring in the evening without a second thought. Polly told me to rest and it will pass. But it didn’t, and I was in so much pain. Then I started bleeding. I was calling for her, she has always said to call for her if anything happens but she didn’t come. She just told me again it’s nothing to worry about. How could it be nothing? There was so much blood, the baby stopped moving and I couldn’t get up. I couldn’t. Little Tommy wouldn’t be here if my wonderful Arthur didn’t worry about me. But he did, my wonderful little man, and he went to your yard because he knew you would help, You always do.”

„I told you I would always be there for you. If you need me, I come. It’s that simple.” Charlie caressed the young woman’s tear stained face.

„And I’ll do the same for your children. They can count on me.”

„Both of them?” She smiled sadly.

„Aye. They deserve a good uncle if their father is a piece of shit.”

"I can't do this again, Charlie.” She blurted out suddenly. „I can't sit by my baby's side, seeing him with tubes and hooked up to monitors. I can't be watching him breathe with support and dreading the moment when he stops. I feel like I'm losing my mind. I just want to hold him in my arms and take him home. But where is home? Not on Watery Lane. That's a prison. It’s living in hell. And I'm raising my boys with a monster. I know you think I’m an idiot for staying with him, but you don’t know what it’s like. Nobody does, and I can’t explain it. Tommy is such an innocent, beautiful little thing, and he hates him. He wants him dead. Only because he isn't strong enough. But who could be stronger than my Tommy, Charlie? He's here. He lives, after all hardships he had to face. Isn't it the biggest proof of his strength?”

Charlie reached for Tommy’s little feet and started rubbing it gently.

„He is. He’s the strongest and most beautiful baby in the world. Anyone who can’t see it is a damn fool. And I don’t judge you, Sarah. I know you have your reasons. I hope one day you will share them with me, but I don’t want to push you. All I’m asking for is to let me stay close and help if you need me.”

„I just want him to be well. I thought we never have to see him in this place again. Do you know I hear the noises of the NICU every single night? All those awful beeping sounds. I must be going crazy. I barely dare to take off my eyes of him to sleep and I stay all night in the boys’ room because I’m scared something happens to him.” Sarah’s voice broke and she buried her face in her hands. „I can’t trust Polly enough to leave him with her for more than ten minutes. I can’t forget that night when he was born. I thought I got over it, she took care of Arthur well while I was with Tommy in the hospital. He was happy and healthy. But somehow it’s different with Tommy. And sometimes she says things, nothing like my husband, just a little sting here and there. I know I just overreact it but it feels like she judges me. For not being able to carry my baby to term. For leaving Arthur alone for three months. For making everything about Tommy. She spoils Arthur as if he needed compensation. But he’s such a clever and caring brother, Charlie. I couldn’t be more proud of him. He’s so invested in taking care of the baby and never complains about anything. You know how lively he is, but he can spend hours watching Tommy and stroking his little face and belly. He wants to sleep together with him and sometimes I let him in the afternoon when I can watch them. But now something happened, and I nearly lost my little angel again.”

„But you did not, love. He’s going to be fine. Look how strong he is.” He didn’t look strong, just like a very sick, very small baby.”Your father knew it the moment he laid eyes on him. He’s a Gypsy prince, after all. And he was blessed by a king. It must matter something.”

It truly did, Sarah was convinced about it. She kept her father’s amulet by herself and always showed it to Tommy when he was awake. She swore it soothed him somehow, and Charlie believed her gladly, because there was a lot of heartbreaking crying and fussing about the oxygen mask.

Sarah stayed with him every day but this time Arthur was there, too. Charlie picked him up in the morning, ignoring the urge to pin Arthur Sr. to the wall and slowly and painfully strangle him when they met. Little Arthur took Tommy’s horse and the baby’s tearful eyes seemed to light up when his big brother held his fluffy friend close to him.

It took a lot of organization when Tommy was sent home on oxygen support. He needed it for two months, and Charlie could see the disgust on Arthur Sr.’s face when Sarah took her baby in the house which smelled of lavender and thyme, thanks to Polly’s herbs. But he didn’t try to hurt him for a while, and Tommy was too small to understand the names he called him or to be bothered by his ignorance and neglect. He was a sweet, innocent baby who knew nothing about his father’s hate.

----

Tommy is dreaming about Mum.

He knows it’s a dream, it must be. Mum is dead, he can’t forget that, not even in his dreams But she’s here somehow.

She’s standing on a pasture with two horses and smiling, and Tommy can’t believe his eyes because he hasn’t seen her so happy for so long. And he knows she’s dead, but she’s so alive. It must be a dream. but he wants it to be true.

„Laćho dives, muro princo.” She says and her voice sounds like it was in happier times.

„San źivdo, miri Dej? Vaj me sim mulo?” Tommy asks hopefully and takes a step to her and the horses.

„Si vazno”

„Si jekh suno?”

„Me na źanav. Šaj te avel. Vaj śaj te avel vareso aver.” Mum is stroking her horse’s shiny mane. „Muro čorolo grast. Voj mulo ko dive kana me mulo.”

„Trubulas te źanav katar kodo.” Tommy says in a choked voice.

„Na rov, muro ćhavo.” She looks at him with sad eyes. He doesn’t want her to be sad. „Me sem kate akana.”

„Numa kobor vrama?”

„Dosta te phiras pe amare grasta.” She says invitingly and offers him the reins of the other horse. Tommy has never seen more beautiful stallion.

He accepts the invitation and the next moment they’re riding on the fields. There are colourful flowers everywhere, their scent fills the air. The songs of nightingales, blackbirds and robins melt together in a beautiful morning harmony.

„Kaj sam? Na ko Birmingham.” Tommy asks when they cross a small brook. It doesn’t look familiar at all.

„Na. Me nakhlem but vrama kate kana me simas tikni shej. Amaro tabori sas paśe,”

„Mangav te barilem kate.” He says as he looks around. It’s the most beautiful place he’s ever been.

„Tu ka aves but bahtalo kate. Trubusardem te anav tut kathe. Te maladjovav mire familijasa. Tumaro kin.”

„Muro phuro dad. O cigano thagar.” Tommy nods eagerly. He always wished he had known his grandfather, the great Gypsy king Mum told him so much about.

„Vov maladjilo tusa jekhvar. Dikhlia sode san zuralo ai tromalo.” Mum said with tears in her eyes.

He didn’t want her to be sad. Not now. Not ever.

„Chi kamav maj but te avav tromalo. Thaj me či simas zuralo.” He wanted to reach for Mum’s hand but her horse wasn’t close enough. Just out of reach. Just a little too far.

„Tu sanas. Muro tromalo, zuralo cigano princo. Miro maj baro mandĭn.”

„O Dad sagda phenel ke me sim slabo. Me sem bi-valo. Biutìlo. Jekh kermo savo trubul te avel mulo. Jekh mongrel.” He lists a few of the things Dad used to call him.

„Na kamav te aśunav kodole manuśesqe vorbe katar tiro muj, ćhavo. Vov si jekh monstrumo. Vov nisar na merisarda tut. Tu sanas jekh daro savo vov nashti te cenil. Me či trubulas te dav tut leske. Me trubusardem te vazdav tut dur lestar.” Mum looks angry and sad. „Me sim but dukhavdo pala sa o dukh so vov kerdas tuke.”

„Si mishto. Me žalav so naštisardem te xastrav tut.” Tommy would love to hold her but she’s too far again. He hasn’t even noticed.

„Me či trubusardem te avav spasime tutar. Tu sanas muro lośalipen.” She smiles gently. He wishes he could hold her tight and bury his face in her hair, like when he was a little boy..

„Akana me sem sakonesko pharipe.”

„Von kamen tut, Tommy. Mukh len te kamen tut.”

Tommy is absentmindedly braiding his horse’s mane. His hands are working. He looks at his arms. They are intact. There’s no sign of blood, scars or stitches. It must be a dream, then. Though he can’t exactly recall why they should be mangled and hurt.

„Dukhavel len te kamen man.”

„Na. Dukhavel len te dikhen tu dukhaves tut korkori.” Mum's eyes are full of love. Tommy missed it so much.

„Šaj te phiras maj but?” He asks hopefully. He doesn’t want to go, not yet. He wants to stay here on these beautiful field and pastures with Mum and their horses.

„Sode vrama kames.”

And so they do. Mum suggests to have a race to the brook, and Tommy happily agrees. It’s familiar, something they have done many times before. He wins, but he isn’t entirely sure he was really faster or Mum let him win. Though she said she hadn’t done since he was ten.

They lead the horses to the water and let them drink. Mum lays down in the tall grass and closes her eyes. Tommy sits down next to her and starts picking flowers. He makes a little bouquet for Mum. He has done it all the time as a little boy, and Dad always made fun of him for it. But he never gave her flowers, though everyone knew how much she loved them. So someone had to do it instead of him.

„Kames te pajares, Tommy?” She asks with her eyes closed.

Tommy suddenly feels cold, though he doesn’t know why. It’s a warm summer day. Perfect, like they are in a dream. But it is a dream indeed, isn’t it? He knows that. But suddenly he isn’t so sure about it. He isn’t sure about anything, to be honest.

„Na.” He says quietly. „Shaj te hodinisaras numa ando grast, Dej?”

„Sigurno, muro drago.” Mum extends her hand invitingly. „Thov tele thaj sovel.”

Tommy takes her hand and it feels like coming home after a long, tiring day that felt like an eternity. He lays down in the soft grass and rests his head on her lap. He feels loved. Mum always makes him loved and safe. She’s stroking his hair with her gentle fingers and starts singing an old Gypsy song he heard from her many times. She loves singing. She has always sung Tommy, ever since he can remember. First every night to help him fall asleep. Nursery rhymes, traditional Gypsy songs, whatever came to her mind. She still sang him when he was too old for it, if he was sick or hurt. He remembers her sitting on the floor beside his narrow, rickety bed after he was discharged when Dad broke his ribs and his lung collapsed. Everything hurt and he could barely sleep. So Mum stayed with him all night to sing or read to him. Sometimes she fell asleep before he did. She was so tired.

But now she seems happy and relaxed, and Tommy wants to melt into her touch. Everything is perfect.

„Me dikhav le paia ai le plaia;
Dikhav dolina thaj thana,
Me dikhav saoră phuv pașa tute;
Soske si man jekh cigano duxo,
Si man jekh ćigansko duxo,
Si man jekh ćigansko duxo,
Me si man jekh cigano duxo thaj nikas na kamav,
odolesqe si lokho
te phiravav man.”

„Thomas? Can you hear me?”

Someone is calling for him from… somewhere. It’s a man. He’s vaguely familiar, though he can’t really place him. Not Uncle Charlie or Arthur. But he doesn’t care. He just wants to stay here with Mum. It’s nice here. Safe.

„Me aśunav e paramiće thaj e paramiće,
Me aśunav e gilja thaj e muzika,
Me ashunav le manushenge raduimata;
Soske si man jekh cigano duxo,
Si man jekh ćigansko duxo,
Si man jekh ćigansko duxo,
Me si man jekh cigano duxo thaj nikas na kamav,
odolesqe si lokho
te phiravav man.”

”Can you try to take a nice, deep breath for me? Come on, show me how strong you are. Prove me your brother is right.”

It’s a woman this time. He doesn’t know her. All he wants to hear is Mum’s voice.

„Me dikhav o maripe thaj o pachape;
me dikhav o meripe ai o biandimos;
Dikhav sa o rat kai perel,
Soske si man jekh cigano duxo,
Si man jekh ćigansko duxo,
Si man jekh ćigansko duxo,
Me si man jekh cigano duxo thaj nikas na kamav,
odolesqe si lokho
te phiravav man.”

„It’s time to wake up, Thomas."

„Me hatjarav e dikhimata thaj e ćorripe,
Me hatjarav o žalos thaj o dar,
Me hatjarav o xoli mamuj mande,
Soske si man jekh cigano duxo,
Si man jekh ćigansko duxo,
Si man jekh ćigansko duxo,
Me si man jekh cigano duxo thaj nikas na kamav,
odolesqe si lokho
te phiravav man.”

Mum is singing. Her fingers are on his temple, easing a headache he hasn’t realised was there before.

Tommy’s eyes are heavy. His limbs are filled with lead.

„Can you open your eyes just a bit, Thomas? All the nurses miss your beautiful blue eyes. Don’t torture us any longer.”

What if he doesn’t want to?

The sun shines on them warmly.

Their horses are grazing and whinnying by the singing brook.

He can hear bees buzzing and birds chirping above them. But some weird, beeping noise disturbs them. It bothers him very much. It doesn’t fit in his idyll.

The sweet scent of wildflowers fills his nostrils. They chase away the unpleasant smell he refuses to acknowledge or recognize. It feels chemical, like antiseptic. It doesn’t belong to this safe heaven. All he wants to smell is fresh grass and summer flowers.

Someone wants to wake him up again. But why should he? It’s so nice here. He wants to stay.