[Tommy Shelby] - Ephialtes

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Ephialtes: noun; [Ef-ee-al-tez] a nightmare.

War seemed to follow Tommy wherever he went. Violence was not uncommon to the Shelby's, and every other day it seemed someone wanted to pick a fight with the Blinders. When they would learn to back down, Tommy knew not. The Jews, the Italians, not even the Russians had managed to overthrow them. Still, despite how used to this life he was, Tommy never got accustomed to the nights.

Nights for Tommy were long, rarely filled with any actual sleep. Instead, the war haunted him, flashbacks and memories trawling through his mind any time he thought he was relaxed. And being one who was far from able to vocalise his emotions well, he found it hard to talk about, so he didn't. Rather, Tommy chose to suffer through his nightmares alone. Emotions only made for enemy opportunity, and Tommy would not allow himself such a weakness.

That was until you came along.

Tommy, as reserved and reluctant as he had been, couldn't deny that he had grown to love you. Love never on the agenda where he was concerned, and Tommy had denied it fervently at first; it had taken Arthur's pushing for him to finally cave in and admit that, for the first time in his life, someone had properly worked their way into his heart.

You'd found work behind the bar in the Garrison whilst the boys were at war, your mother knowing their Aunt Polly quite well. She was happy to let you help, and soon you became a staple figure amongst the frequenters of the pub, able to pour a drink and entertain all the same. Business ran smoothly, and customers were happy, so they kept you around.

You'd first seen Tommy the day after they had come back, and to say you found him handsome was an understatement. You had seen his blue eyes, soft yet hardened all at once. There was a man in there, under the façade he chose to present, and part of you wanted to get to know that man.

"Careful with that one, love," Polly had leant over and whispered to you. "He's not your normal kind of man."

Sending her an incredulous look, your reply gave you away, spoken in a tone that said every word was a lie. Not your intention, in your head it had sounded very defiant and strong.

 "I have no idea what you're talking about."

A lie it surely was, and Polly knew it a mile off. She had simply laughed, shaken her head, and turned her attention back to her cigarette. Despite your claims, your eyes had drifted back to the man in question, who's own eyes were on you, a soft glance your way. He made no move to smile at you, but you swore his eyes lit up that little bit more. Polly was right, he wasn't your normal type of man, Tommy Shelby. But, the heart wants what it wants.

That was just over a year ago, now. A year later and you were by Tommy's side. The family had welcomed you with warmth, happy that he had finally found someone to put his trust in and to love. Arthur joked that you'd made Tommy too soft, and John would bully you for one thing or another. All in good faith, of course, you knew that should any harm come to you, they would back you up without question. Finn adored you, too, you'd sit with him for hours and talk about anything and everything; usually it was when the boys had kicked him out of the back room of the pub whilst they had a meeting. On the times you'd met Ada, she had also seemed to take to you, loving how you would play with Karl when she had business with Tommy. A couple of times since, she had offered you to walk with her and Karl through the park.

They were family, and you couldn't have been happier or luckier to have the lot of them in your life. 

Tommy currently lay awake again, eyes staring wide at the ceiling once more. Beside him, your sleeping form had lay, breathing evenly. It brought some comfort to him. In the small light from outside, your face was lit with a soft glow, and Tommy stared for a while. You looked like an angel, and to him you were. Tommy never did know why you stuck around, or why you had chosen him, but he was thankful nonetheless that he had you. You had stuck by him through the good, the bad, and the very rock bottom, something he would neither expect nor wish from anyone. He didn't know how you did it, how you managed to cope with him at his best, let alone his worst. 

He had leant over and ran his hand over your face, twirling a small piece of your hair in his hand, not wanting to wake you. Sighing, Tommy stood, only now realising he was sweating. Walking to the mirror, he stared at his reflection. Eyes reddened and skin glistening, he took a deep breath.

"Fuck," he spoke low to himself, voice hushed. Head in his hands, he tried to shake off his mood.

You'd rolled over ever so slightly and realised there was no one there. Your subconscious woke you with slight panic; such a life meant you never knew whether Tommy was simply taking a piss or he'd been kidnapped. You noticed him stood near the wall and a part of you relaxed. His form was hunched over ever so slightly, and in that moment, you knew. Standing, your feet padded over to him, his body remaining facing the wall. Your arms wrapped themselves around his waist and you buried your head into his back, feeling the tense muscles he was holding relax slightly.

"Hello," you said softly, leaving a small kiss between his shoulder blades. "Nightmares?"

Tommy didn't have to say anything, and you nodded to yourself. Taking his hands, you moved yourself in front of him to look up at the man you loved. One hand cupped his face, and Tommy placed his forehead against yours.

"Would you like to talk about it, love?" you enquired, the hand that rested on his cheek now holding the back of his head. Again, Tommy didn't speak, instead choosing to bury his face into the crook of your neck. Such vulnerability was something Tommy couldn't stand showing, but he needed you in that moment. 

"Let's get back in bed."

Taking his hand once more, you led him back to the bed and climbed in, Tommy hesitant for a second or two. You opened your arms, and he crawled in beside you as you wrapped the cover over your forms. Tommy lay into your side, head facing the ceiling as you ran one hand through his hair. Glancing up at you, his eyes shone as he spoke, barely above a whisper.

"Thank you, Y/N, I apologise if I woke you."

You giggled slightly, and his face turned a little confused.

"You and your priorities, Tommy," you said, placing a kiss on his forehead and smiling down at him. "You know I hate it when you thank me for things like this, I don't need a thanks. We'll get through this together, won't we?"

"Yeah," his voice lower, suggesting he was finally tiring. "Yeah we will."

A shift in the bed, and Tommy was curled against you, arms draped over your waist and legs entwined messily with your own. A few moments later, and you felt his body relax. Looking down, you saw his eyes, those beautiful eyes that had drawn you in at the start, had closed and his breathing had evened itself out. Rest had overtaken him.

"I love you, Thomas Shelby."

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