Heaven and Hell Bound - Tommy Shelby

Look After Me

Y/N POV

Tommy and I have been writing each other for a few months now. I learnt all about his family and his business back in Small Heath. He sent me sketches of his brothers and of a wonderful little flower that had grown despite all the despair which surrounded it. At his request, I, rather reluctantly I must say, sent him a photograph of myself. As soon as the notion was brought up I could feel myself reeling back as insecurities fill my mind. But how could I resist such a dreamy writer:

Whilst your words and the hint of perfume that comes with every letter brings a breath of heavenly air, I find myself wishing for something more. Dare I ask that you send a photograph of yourself. And before you protest I do not care if it's old or embarrassing or your hair looked funny, I need to see my pretty girls face. And Arthur has been insistently begging to find out what you look like. However, I fear they may have to pry the photo out of my cold dead hands before I let anyone else have it. Write to me soon please Y/N. It gets more miserable out here as each day passes. I'll meet you in our dreams tonight.

Sincerely,

Your Tommy.

Your Tommy and Your Y/N. That's how we had begun signing our letters. It was an indication that we belonged to us, and not to the war. I only agreed to send a photograph if one of him would be returned. It was him in his uniform, hair brushed back, the curves and contours of his face like a frame to the most gorgeous painting. The beautiful picture sits with me in the pocket of my dress everyday. Cherished and perfect do no justice to describe the levels of beauty this photo contains. I don't know why Tommy and I have connected like this. Perhaps it's the being away from home, perhaps it's the war, perhaps it's the fact that this was the first man to have any interest in me. Whatever it was, it was nice, really nice.

Outside of this heavenly escape is the very real horrors of the hospital. Patients come and go, blood pours, screams fade into the dirt, but we keep pushing on. Just let one more mother be reunited with their son.

"Y/N!" My name was called, like it always was when a particularly bad patient arrived. I postponed my rounds and quickly ran to the emergency bed, scrubbing up with what I can as the soldier is carried in, his pained moans and short, shallow breathing swelling in volume. "Briefing!"I yelled to the nurses that guided him in. "Gunshot wound to upper chest, head trauma, erratic heartbeat and breathing pattern." Whilst he was placed down on the bed I turned away, telling the nurses what will be required. "Is that understood?", they nod and proceed to collect said items. I begin to turn around to the patient, "Ok, now what's your name sol-", I freeze. No, please no. My gaze had met those most beautiful blue eyes once again. "T-Tommy?" I ask, hoping that my eyes may be lying to me. He looks at me with drowsy, pain-filled eyes. "Y/N? What are -" he interrupts himself with a pained groan, squeezing his eyelids shut and gritting his teeth. Instinctively, I place one hand on his trembling shoulder and the other on his cheek. "Tommy, hey Tom, Tom, look at me", I say gently, trying to hide the panic in my voice and the shaking of my hands. His eyes are frantic, trying to find some relief from the fire that coursed through his veins. "Fuck! Fuck!", he yells in pain as one of the nurses begins to clean his bullet wound, tears cascading down his mud-covered cheeks. I look to the other nurses, we all knew what would happen if Thomas couldn't calm down. Rosaline must have made her way towards the bed after hearing the commotion, seeing as she had now placed her hand on my shoulder. We nod at each other, a new surge of hope and devotion filling my bones. I place both my hands on Tommy's tear-stained cheeks, tenderly turning his face to mine. Now all I can see is Tommy's face, and all he can see is mine. The noises of the hospital fade as our eyes meet, just like they did when we first met. "Hey Pretty Boy. Shhh, it's going to be ok. Hey? It's going to be ok I promise. Pinky promise." He starts to calm down as he focuses on the colour of my eyes and the movement of my lips. I nod to the other nurses, silently asking them to continue treatment. It was now my job to distract Thomas until the procedures were over, or at least until he passes out. "Tom, could you tell me about your horses again?" I ask, lightly nodding to him whilst my thumb caresses his cheek. "There's one that reminds me of you" he manages to get out. "Oh yeah? How so?" I continue, a smile etching its way onto my face. He slowly lifts up one of his hands, twirling some of my hair between his calloused fingers. "Same coloured hair", his fingers move to my cheek, "Soft and pretty, with the most beautiful eyes". I notice the nurses are nearly finished with everything, except the worst was still yet to come. "Well I can't wait to see her for myself then hey?" I take a deep breath in, preparing myself for the ordeal that was to come. "Tommy, there's one more thing we have to do ok? It's going to really hurt. But, I'll be right here." He looks to me, scared and fragile. "Just please help me", he breathes out, closing his eyes. I make my way to the tray of equipment, preparing what I need to remove the bullet and restore any internal and external damage. Tommy's screams burned into my ears. Tears filled my eyes, but now was not the time to get emotional, I had a soldier to help. I thought of the family he left behind in Small Heath, and of his brothers which work below in the tunnels. I knew I had to do it for them.

Thomas had passed out not soon after I had retrieved the bullet. He looked so calm, at peace, beautiful. As I was stitching him up I took in every detail of his still body. He was muscular and toned, a tattoo resting upon his skin alongside too many a scar that littered his torso and arms. I pulled the blanket over him, praying that he gets the rest he deserved. I steal one last look at Tommy before reluctantly turning away.

With a cigarette already in my mouth I head to my spot on the hill, desperate for some kind of quiet. I practically fall to the ground, exhaustion defeating my muscles. "Big day huh?" I hear Rosaline ask from behind me, matches in her hand, ready to light my cigarette. We sit in silence, staring out at the setting sun, hazed over with the smoke which escapes from our lips. "Fucking hell Ro. That's Tommy in there", I try to convey my bewilderment. "He could have fucking died and could have either watched it happen or never even known about it." I continue to take long drags of my cigarette, an attempt to calm my deliriously emotional mind. "Y/N the way he looked at you, you've only been talking for a few months now but he looks at you like you're an angel", she sighs, a hint of jealousy poisoning her otherwise compassionate observation. I look to her with tired eyes, "Ro, come off it now. You know that Edward, myself, and practically everything that breathes looks at you that way". I reach to grab her hand, too tired to find any more voice. "Sorry Y/N, I just miss him... At least you and Tommy will be able to have a few days together", she says, an apologetic tone lacing her words. A smile broke out on my face with this realisation. A blush made its way across my skin. My mind had wandered to happier places, places with Tommy. Never had I been nervous to spend time with a patient. But then again this wasn't any old soldier. Whilst I danced in the fields my daydreams created, I hadn't noticed the flame on my cigarette inching ever closer to my fingers as it's length dwindled as time went by. That was until a scorching pain seared over my fingers, burning the skin which once held it. I dropped it instantly, inhaling through my gritted teeth.

I hope that Tommy Shelby does not burn me the same.