Cross my heart - Tommy Shelby

•6•

Warnings: PTSD, swearing, a very brief mention of death.

Eliza was frustrated, confused and extremely pissed off.

She was frustrated at herself for letting her feelings for Tommy get the best of her. She was confused about her feelings for Tommy with all of the prior history between them. And she was angry at Tommy for not letting her explain what had been going on.

But if there was one thing that cut her deeper than her battle wounds did, it was the mental image that had been scarred into her brain of Grace bent over one of the kegs in the Garrison's cellar, a moaning mess at the hands of Thomas Shelby himself.

That hurt. A lot.

But not as much as it did, when the pair walked in, hand in hand the next day.

Acting all sweet with each other, all while Grace rubbed her new relationship in Eliza's face.

"Oh Tommy did the sweetest thing last night."

Or

"I'm so lucky that Tommy is mine."

It just reminded her of what could have been.

It was like a stab wound being pressed down on over and over. It ached and she longed to just fall into the deepest sleep and never wake up.

~

Harry had shut down the Garrison for the night, the only patrons that were left were the Shelby boys. And considering how much Harry trusted them, he allowed Arthur to be in charge for the night- while he ran errands around town.

Arthur and John had been too happy to accept, as Arthur had complete freedom over the drinks and the alcohol was able to keep running.

It was a good night until Arthur brought up John's best mate.

"So what went on between you and that Eliza lass?" Arthur sipped at his third glass of whiskey.

John rubbed his temples, frustrated, "We're best mates. We never fucked- Tommy is just too far up 'is arse to see that." He sighed, "I'm worried 'bout 'er though Arthur...she gets Flander's blues like you. And she's locked 'erself away 'cos she doesn't want to cause a divide in the family."

Arthur had always been a good listener, contrary to popular belief, and he knew when his brothers were being completely honest with him. He could tell that John was being truthful.

"John, I think you shoul-"

There was a scream, it was loud and bloodcurdling. It sounded as if someone was being attacked or killed.

John knew it could only belong to one person. Eliza.

"Fuck."

~

Scrape, Pat. Scrape, Pat. Scrape, Pat.

The surroundings changed she was behind tackled to the ground, knife plunged into her shoulder- the pain was unbearable.

She was in the camp, dead soldiers littered the ground. The blood refused to wash off.

Her leg hurt, her shoulder burnt, and her heart broke.

She felt like screaming- but nothing came out just a silence.

Every memory bounced around as they repeated again and again.

She was alone again and there was no way she could make it out and survive.

~