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pherelesytsia · 2 years

Text

Who did this to you? 4

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader

Summary: Bruised and broken, Y/N, trapped in a loveless marriage, arrives at her best friend's house, desperately hoping someone will help her, aware she cannot return to the estate of her husband.

Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, swearing

Word Count: 2.5k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

The wind chanting a song of sorrow swept through the town and howled like a lonely wolf at the waxing moon escaping the glimmering mist. Not a soul roamed the streets, but the world was not free from terror and suffering, from pain and grief.

Midnight had not fallen, and the moon climbed high, claiming the sky as its kingdom, but the dawn of a new day, a new hope, was far away, not within reach.

The lawn was low and the lonely tree in the middle of the garden, enclosed by a low fence, swayed back and forth, dancing like a dancer to the serenade of melancholy. Light burned in the far corner of the house of smooth stone surrounded by higher, nearly similar ones. It seemed as if somebody was awake at the ungodly hour, stitching and patching or sitting over a lovingly written book of endless love, full of emotions the heart was longing for, a gentle tale written by a lonely writer longing for the unachievable.

Gasping, her bloodshot eyes opened. Gloom awoke. Fear spread through her. The memories, terrible and unforgettable returned, were painted in shrieking colours, oozing with poison and crimson. Her heart pounded rapidly, crashed into her chest, but the organ couldn't escape the prison. Y/N tried to clench her hands into fists to protect herself, but her fingers were nerveless. Fine lines of crimson trickled down her arms. Y/N begged for mercy, trying to escape the memories, but the formless silhouettes coiled like a snake around her frame. Breathing heavily, she awoke, thought she was already awake, and searched for the enemy, the evil faces bearing wicked eyes, but before the first cry reached her throat, Y/N realised she was in no danger, had survived and was alive.

Y/N hoped it was just a twisted dream. She braced herself. Slowly, fearing the answer, Y/N lowered her gaze. A lump formed in her throat. The wounds prevented her from moving, the sore arms and legs, the bruises shaped into hands. Y/N refused to trust the memories, but she spotted the evidence on her hands. Repulsed, she lifted her eyes. Wet crimson clinging to her trembling finger glistened in the light streaming dimly through the windows shielded by long curtains.

"Peggy?" Y/N breathed.

Her hand shot to her neck and noticed how swollen her throat was, realised how difficult it was to fill her burning lungs with air. Again Y/N uttered her best friend's name, crowed like a crow, but no answer came.

The pain grew dull, but stayed a good friend, a companion reminding of good old times, a mate talking about the shenanigans done in the childhood. Slowly Y/N leaned her pounding head back on the pillow. The shooting pain evoked tears, but no injury on her body ached as much as her shattering heart, broken into millions of fragments.

Silence ruled like a ruthless king, torturing and dooming, wicked with a mind twisted as the limbs of a fallen soldier facing the grey heavens. A hush prayer crossed her lips, her mind played with her, imagined the worst things, but as Y/N calmed and brushed the sweat sticking to her forehead away she realised that if someone had invaded the house, she would have heard the intruder.

She busied herself with her fingers and ignored the pain clouding her mind. Her face curled like soured milk. Gently, almost lovingly Y/N caressed the golden ring, the gold shaped into the sign of infinity, a token of love, of marriage, of someone having captured the heart through caring gestures and tender words.

Realisation hit her like a wave. Weakly, Y/N smiled, knew what had happened, but she couldn't hate Peggy for what she had done, knew her friend well and assumed she must be knocking on the door of the building she had to call her home.

I need to leave, Y/N thought to herself, could not picture to face her husband. The world spun, but the shadows rising and falling like high slopes of the mountain didn’t scare her, amused her. Y/N pushed herself from the sofa and threw the blanket, which could not offer any warmth, to the side. Astonished she glanced at the clock above the wooden door and realised she had slept less than thirty minutes, but it felt as if she had been asleep for a whole year. A lonely tear danced down her face, but she didn’t brush it away, let it fall like rain. Y/N folded her arms in front of her chest, hiding the tips of her fingers, shielded herself and advanced at a slow pace. She couldn’t walk upright, couldn’t stay strong anymore. The darkness told her to come closer, luring her in, telling peace is awaiting her in the gloom, but Y/N was deaf to the voice and turned into the long, seemingly endless corridor leading to the locked door. Suddenly she stopped and focused her gaze over her shoulder, hoping to meet a person but her only friend was the darkness.

Peggy´s coat was gone. The only evidence Y/N needed to see to know that her friend was gone with the wind was the big puddle the shoes had left on the ground next to the door. Y/N clasped the key in the small bowl on the round table and stepped hesitantly closer to the entrance. Aware she could not stay in the house, fearing the words she knew would escape, the looks they would cast upon her and the dooming laughter she opened the door.

The night greeted her with open arms. Goosebumps reigned on her skin, but Y/N did not shiver nor cursed as the wind licked her wounds open. The leaves rustled, danced and painted the sinister sky in the hues of autumn. Y/N stumbled through the shadows, bearing no map and again she laughed, had no place to call her home, no place of refuge, a place to be herself without fearing rejection, could chant like a man or be ridiculous, behaving childish and amusing. Without realising it, Y/N walking in the glow of the faint stars, pushed the garden door open and turned in one direction, not knowing where to go, not having any other friends she could trust with her life who would not take her straight to the Shelby's in hope to get a golden coin, jewels and wealth in return.

“Fools. Bloody Fools.” Y/N chuckled.

Laughter, the sounds of delight, didn't shatter the night like a spear breaking a wooden shield. Her thoughts amused her, delighted her. Foolishly the woman had hoped she would see her husband, wished he would stand in front of the house but Y/N wanted to hear no apology, nothing, no stories nor loving words and as she thought about it, Y/N longed for his closeness, an embrace.

Her mind drifted away, she had fallen in love with him the moment when the gazes crossed, found herself in his clear blue eyes mirroring the beauty of a cloudless day, and Y/N did not want to love him yet she had seen a tender, nearly carrying site of the ruthless man.

Brows almost touched. Bracing herself, Y/N turned, prepared for the worst, punches, curses, men willing to carry out what they have started. A familiar voice called her by her name. A sparkle of hope ignited in her chest. Her eyes narrowed and her heart skipped a beat. The modern vehicle had stopped five steps away from her. Y/N gulped. The outlines were too wide, too tall to be a woman, and Y/N cursed, hissed like a snake and prayed low prayers.

"Y/N?" his voice frightened her.

The beams of the moon escaping the curdling clouds brushed his face, but the hat on his head spread a shadow on his pale features. She stumbled back. The shape rose in size. The beard had grown longer. Concerns continued to reign in his gaze and the wrinkles on his face deepened, realised it was Y/N dressed in the torn and tattered garment, walking like a shadow in the pitch-black shadows. The men jumped and ran. Deviousness did not prevail in his gaze. Fearfully, Y/N backed away, took two steps, tried to put as much space as possible between herself and the men. Crows screamed. She stumbled, the wooden fence forced her to a halt, forbidding her to flee, to escape the worst. Gulping, Y/N clawed her fingers into the flowing material of the torn fabric, covered her flesh and searched for a way out, breathed a prayer, and tried to scream for help, but she couldn't.

"What are you doing here? What happened to you and where's Thomas?" Alfie asked sceptically.

Quickly he advanced, walked ahead, spoke loudly, ignored the people in the houses bordering the narrow road, trying to find a moment of peace in the land of dreams. Terror welled within his eyes, seeking another presence, a friend, but no one was standing by her side, nor in the remote gloom. He unbuttoned the buttons of his coat, took it off, and ignored the silent pleas to leave her alone. Alfie halted and placed his coat on Y/N´s shoulders, covered her battered body, and tried to warm her. He searched for the answer to the unspoken question, but the man could not speak, forgot hate and distaste, and breathed soothing words into her ear. Y/N tensed under his touch. Gently, fearing she would collapse like a house of cards under his touch, he touched her arms and brushed the strands of hair glued to her face away.

"I won't hurt you, little one," Alfie assured.

Laughing, Y/N lifted her eyes from his torso clad in a white button-down. Her fingers curled into the warming material. The smell of smoke and expensive whiskey enveloping her had a soothing effect on her heart.

"I don't think you could do anything worse to me, Mr Solomons.", "Come on, I'll take you home. The streets are no place for a flower like you," he spoke.

Y/N shook her head, stepped back and it didn't escape the man towering high above her.

"Did he?" the man asked.

His voice sounded strange, almost fearful, unusual, and it seemed as if someone else was speaking, but it was Alfie who was talking. Y/N rammed her teeth into her lower lip, pushing away the horrible thoughts invading her heart like an army of hundreds of cruel warriors, barbarians with axes and swords. An icy shiver danced down her spine. Memories returned, but Y/N stayed in silence, couldn't speak nor cry like a banshee.

“Y/N. Tell me. Has the Shelby hurt you?” Alfie urged.

Y/N didn't know what to answer. Lips didn't touch. The sharpened dagger jabbing deeper into her heart caused her to gasp in pain. Yes, he wounded me, Y/N reflected, lost in the ocean of memories. I can count on one hand how many times he has kissed me, how many times he has said that he loves me from the deepest depths of his heart. Thomas had never laid a hand on his wife, never dared to raise his voice, but he had forgotten her and Y/N forgot the moments when his eyes rested gently upon her, telling what lips could not express.

"No, but I can't go to him. Maybe he doesn't mind that I am gone. Thank you very much for your coat, but I don't need it. I have to be on my way. I need to go." Y/N spoke loud enough to know that Alfie had heard her.

"Are you crazy? I'm not going to leave you,” he spoke in a low voice.

His gloved hand gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Alfie, I can't," Y/N answered hesitantly.

The moon escaped the fangs of the clouds. The pale light beamed upon them standing by the deserted road leading across the town. Patiently Alfie waited, needing to know what had occurred, refused to pressure her. He gulped at the sight. The fabric around her bruised neck was ripped and stained. The lipstick once painting her lips in deep hues, was slightly smudged and the curls framing her face were dishevelled.

"Do you need a doctor?" he asked.

The question was unnecessary.

"If you don't get in my car willingly, I will throw you in. I am not leaving you alone," he said.

Alfie breathed words, trying to bring Y/N to senses, not wanting to force the trembling woman into his automobile to inflict more pain and summon tears. Carefully his fingers played around the large dark buttons of his coat and closed each of the buttons, working from the bottom up, and tried to find more wounds, crimson and blueness, but the clouds reared and shifted and clouded the only source of light.

"Come, little one, the streets are no place for a dainty flower like you. Everything is alright." Alfie continued.

His hands were shaking as he touched her. With care, he embraced Y/N, and she rested her head on his firm chest. His eyes widened. A wetness of unknown origin was leaking through the button-down clinging to his skin. He lowered his gaze. The sight fractured his heart. Alfie gulped. Her face mirrored the moon, pale and cold, and her fingers, bloodied and bruised, searched for a halt.

"I will not harm you. I would never harm a woman. At my place, I will tend to your wounds and I can offer you a place to sleep." Alfie spoke gently.

"Okay." Y/N finally answered.

Fog emerged out of the alleys of the forsaken city, engulfing the houses and streets. The faint smell of rain lingered in the air. Alfie pushed her towards the dark vehicle, telling her no harm could strike her, and Y/N let it happen, trusting the man protecting her from the ruthless winds of winter.

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