Forbidden Alliances // Alfie Solomons Peaky Blinders

(149) Rest in Peace

*edited 04/16/23*

Notice how I published this immediately after the previous chapter... Please don't leave me XD. This isn't over. I love y'all and I hope you can forgive me.

-V

She wept.

Disappearing in the brush behind the building, she cried.

A spew of pain, a haunting alew of the most agonizing cries left her reddened lips as she fell against her steering wheel. Half-conscious, she used what energy she had left in her to weep. She used what she had left in her to cry for the loss of her own soul. The half that still belonged to her, she used to mourn the other half that resided in Alfie.

It felt like she was dying.

She had mourned her father and her mother and her uncle and people she got close with along the way, but none of it felt like this. None of it felt like a piece of her had died with them. Alfie wasn't dead, but he was gone. He wasn't dead and yet this hurt more than those who were.

How fucked up...

How accepting she was of it. How willing she was to allow Alfie to fucked her up merely because it was him who did it...

So, unapologetically, she wept. She couldn't fight anymore. She couldn't fight for Alfie, she couldn't fight for Tommy, she couldn't even fight for herself, so she wept. She wept for all she lost.

In losing Alfie she lost herself and in losing herself, the world seemed to get terribly dark.

Her chest caved in, her stomach went taut, and her eyes were screwed such with distress as she cried and nearly submitted to the darkness of unconsciousness.

However, as her feeble weeping continued and her body seemed to force all the liquid and air from inside, there was a knock on her window that made her turn her shamefully face into the steering wheel.

She didn't know who it was and she didn't care. She hid her face against the horn and her hair seemed to curtain her from whoever was outside.

They knocked again and Freya's crying grew more monstrous.

Someone wanted her attention and yet she could not give it to them. She was weak. She was injured beyond repair and she didn't think she could do anything more. Breathing became a struggle so she didn't know how she was supposed to do anything else.

Weakly, she lifted her trembling hand and shot her middle finger at the person outside her window. She turned her head in the opposite direction and gasped for air. When she peeled her eyes open, she realized just how puffy her eyes were when she struggled to stare at the barren trees around her.

Everything hurt. Physically, mentally, emotionally, even spiritually. She felt like it was all ripped away from her; like it all went away with the half that belonged to Alfie.

She was literally left with nothing.

She had no money, but even if she did, she didn't have a purpose for it. She had more than enough before all the Russian bullshit, but because she didn't want to withdraw her name from any charities she left money to, she knew that with this money, she could do what she wanted to do... She could have done what she wanted to do... But not anymore.

Now, she had no purpose for it. She was meant to buy a home with Alfie. She was meant to move. She was meant to use that money to start a life of her own... with him... And now there was nothing.

Pointless.

It was all pointless.

The knocking continued and Freya tiredly turned her head to face Michael outside. She watched his shoulders slump with remorse. His face went soft and his eyes sympathetic, but none of it mattered to her. Nothing mattered anymore to her.