Peaky Girl (Peaky Blinders ABO Omegaverse Smut Fanfiction)

Seventeen

Arthur was yelling, and the only word I could hear on his lips was my name as he stood from his seat, pointing a finger at Tommy, spit flying from his mouth. I wanted to go to him, hug him, hold him, calm him, but all I could see was

Tommy. Dead. Bleeding out on Watery Lane from a gunshot wound to his chest.

Tommy stood, very much alive, just inside the threshold of The Garrison, looking at Arthur with one dark eyebrow raised. He was calm, steady, waving Arthur into the snug of the pub. I wondered in a muddle if it was because Tommy could see the way I flinched at Arthur's raised voice, but I couldn't think of anything but

Tommy. Dead. Ocean eyes empty as he stared up at the overcast Small Heath sky.

I wasn't breathing. I couldn't breathe. I would drown in Tommy's eyes, dull like the earth had stopped turning and the moon was gone and the ocean was still as a stagnant puddle. He was no longer a man, no longer a ghost, no longer alive in my mind's eye.

Tommy. Dead.

John got to his knees in front of the chair I sat in. His gentle hands covered mine where I was clutching at my knees so tightly that my knuckles had turned white. I wanted to tell him about my vision, that I could see things, the past and the future and the present, and I had seen Tommy dead, Billy Kimber standing in front of a line of his men on Watery Lane, his pistol smoking in his outstretched hand.

"Don't mind Arthur, angel," John said in a low, gentle tone.

My head turned in the direction of the snug, realizing I could no longer hear Arthur's boisterous tone through the frosted glass. "He's yelling at Tommy about me?"

"Damn straight."

I looked at John in a daze. He was staring at me, his green eyes aflame even as he dissected me with his eyes like each of my features was a piece of a puzzle he could place together if he tried hard enough. Tommy's faded eyes passed through my vision, and I realized that the boys had not seen what I had seen, did not know what I knew, probably assumed that I was jittery from the heat of the meeting with Kimber, probably assumed that I was set off by Arthur's explosion, which I had barely even heard above the ringing in my ears and the omen of death I had just witnessed in Kimber's coin.

"You shouldn't have picked up that coin, baby," John said, and his fingers stroked soothing circles in the backs of my hands.

Maybe he was right. If I hadn't picked up the coin, this business with Kimber never would have officially begun, and Tommy might have been safe. But if I hadn't picked up the coin, I wouldn't have seen what was to come, and I wouldn't have cursed Billy Kimber. But I wasn't sure my wrath was enough to keep Tommy alive.

"You're our omega now," John said, and a possessive growl hinted in his gentle voice as if he was trying to restrain himself while Arthur wasn't.

I needed to speak to Polly. She would make sense of the vision. She would know what to do. She would help me save Tommy.

"Shoulda let me pick up the blasted coin," John muttered, his fingers finally settling around my hands to clutch mine in his. "But you gave me that look, worse than Tommy's, that one. 'Course I couldn't stop you after that."

I tightened my hands around John's, and I looked into his eyes, seeking the comfort only his green fire could provide. "Tommy needed me to pick up that coin," I said, and I wished John knew exactly what I meant.

He nodded anyway as if he understood, and maybe he did because any one of us would have done anything Tommy asked of us. Almost anything. I would let Tommy get into this business with Kimber, chase his dream of going legitimate in the hopes it would satiate the fire inside, but it never would, and Ada had passed me the baton, and it might have been hopeless to try to keep Tommy Shelby and his brothers alive because he would lead them to their deaths over and over and over because they were all ghosts since the war, like I was a ghost, and ghosts remain because there is business to be done.