Forbidden Afflictions // Alfie Solomons Peaky Blinders

(5) Criminality

I'm SO sorry this took so long. Finding the motivation is really hard right now so please forgive me. I love y'all! Enjoy!

-V

After that, Freya sat with Alfie and Dr. Wilson so the means for recovery were at her fingertips and all she would have to do was act. Nothing was set in stone, of course. Alfie could see that Freya needed that control if she were to get better. He promised she wasn't required to do anything he said, Alfie just asked that she listen.

Wilson left with several written prescriptions, some of which were refills that were handed to Freya in secret.

A number was left with her to a therapist and they had scheduled for her to see Dr. Wilson at the office in a week's time for a check-up and evaluation. She hadn't been seen since the surgery and it seemed they all wanted to ensure she didn't have another infection or any complications since the dilation and curettage.

After Dr. Wilson left, Freya went through the dresser she and Alfie shared and tossed nearly everything on the floor or on top of the aged oak. She wasn't sure if it was Alfie or Edna who did the organizing, but it was all wrong. She didn't stop rifling until she fished for a white button-up and some clean undergarments.

She had tucked away the note that held her list of old prescriptions and began to pluck her hair from its frizzy braid. Only then did Alfie join her upstairs. When he noticed the mess she had made and the impatient manner in which she undid her hair in the mirror, he had to stare in curiosity.

"Wot are you doing, Love?" he wondered, taking slow steps in her direction. He watched through the mirror as she yanked the knots free from her head and snagged the delicate strands with her scabbed fingers. He wanted to help but he knew better. She had freaked out when he touched her only moments prior and she was an independent woman. If he started to take that away from her in any way, she was bound to get upset.

Before, he didn't have to think twice about showing his affection. But things were different now.

"I need a drink," she grumbled, sweeping all her hair into her hand, ignoring the remaining knots and flat spots from sleep and grease, and tied a low, lazy bun just above her neck. She then quickly made her way to the closet and pulled for a pair of slacks which had been hung on the opposite side from Alfie's.

Alfie opened his mouth to respond but he worried he would say the wrong thing. He wanted to keep her safe; that's all he ever wanted to do, but the mention of a drink after crying like that scared him. She hadn't left the house in several months. They had more than enough rum in the cellar and wine in the kitchen and Shelby gin in the staff quarters. He knew if it were really a drink she was after, she wouldn't be leaving for it. 

She needed to get out. She needed to leave and join life outside those aching walls. Alfie didn't want to interfere.

Despite the pain growing inside him like a nasty black mold, he decided to be supportive rather than defensive.

"I'll come with you."

She didn't seem fazed as she disappeared into the bathroom. He was sure she would protest if she didn't want company, but then again, he wasn't sure if she had heard him at all. He waited a few minutes for her to come back wearing all but a blazer.

The blue in her vest and pants threatened to bring color back to her eyes if they ever stopped flickering from the ground. A few wirey hairs of grey coiled at her temples and the brown in the rest of it seemed dulled, almost like it had been sitting out in the sun too long. However, Alfie knew that with the cloudy winter sky, that wasn't the case. She had filled in the slit in her eyebrow but the rest of her face was bare.