In Small Heath | Peaky Blinders

twenty three; police? no, the devil

As promised, Bash had began his walk towards the general hospital in the heart of the town, presuming that Tommy would've already had someone on his tail as if he was the freshest thing on the market. He hadn't walked to the hospital by himself in a long while, maybe ten years before the war started, and he wasn't entirely sure if he'd be able to make it.

Bash couldn't keep relying on Charlie or Jimmy, he felt guilty, but what he didn't know was that they both felt as guilty as he did.

If it hadn't been for Charlie's broken leg, maybe things would've been different, and Jimmy felt guilty because he didn't offer to help his boss earlier than he did.

Neither of them should've felt guilt, it was Bash's fault and it laid on his shoulders only.

As he walked, he thought about what he'd have to do and how much he could get away with at this appointment, an appointment that he didn't even remember what exactly it was for. Could it be the shrapnel wounds that hadn't healed quite as well as everyone had hoped, or was it his eyes? Their vision going more and more blurred as the hours passed.

He was just glad they didn't burn as much as they had at the beginning.

"Oi Sebastian!"

The bellowing voice of Arthur Shelby cut through the sound of foot traffic, the fleeting toots of few new cars that were scattered across the rather large road, the creaky wheels of old trailers weighed down with metal pieces from the ironworks.

Bash's head turned to the left, where he thought his brother's voice came from, but the hand that clasped around his right wrist made him jump.

"Shittin' hell, Arthur!" Bash's voice came out in a hiss, his heart beat thudding through his ears- loud enough for a headache to start.

He really hated when he was caught off guard, but no one could've helped that. Most of the time, they didn't even realise what they had done, most of the time, they tried doing everything in their power to help, and that was the best they could do. Too many sounds made things harder to decipher, and Bash knew that, but he hated it too.

"Oh fuck, sorry mate! Want me to walk with you to hell— I mean the 'ospital?"

The feeling of a hand wrap against his elbow was clear enough for Bash that it wasn't a question to be answered.

People separated like butter and milk, allowing the two Shelby's to pass, they hadn't done that when Sebastian was on his own, but he didn't exactly give off the ability to be threatening. Of course, he could be threatening, the looks on his face painted pictures words never could.

If they had known what he really was capable of, they would've treated him the same as any other Shelby that roamed the street.

Even Ada was respected more, but it wasn't really her fault.

"What d'ya think about my horse?"

Bash's voice called out, breaking the awkward silence, tapping his free hand on his side, and for a moment — Arthur looked back at him, a perplexed look gracing his face.

What Arthur knew about the horse... and the guns beneath the horses troff, made him swallow a lump that had formed in his throat. It took everything within him to not tell him everything he knew. It was unfair, that Tommy was keeping things from Bash. It had always been the four of them against the world and now Bash was the empty seat in the four seater car. The empty space swallowing the once calm and easing atmosphere, leaving behind a glum and forewarning feeling the brothers didn't dare mention.

"He's a biggun'."

An awkward response, but a response nonetheless, made Bash nod his head in agreement. He'd been told the horse was sixteen hands, but the beast was taller in his mind.