Tommy Shelby One Shots

Damn you, Thomas Shelby

A/N : This fic was originally a one shot written for one friend and turned out to be too much fun to write, so I just couldn't stop making new ones oops-

Disclaimer : I don't own anything from Peaky Blinders ofc *sad noise in the background*, everything belongs to the rightful owner(s)

POV : You're Tommy's partner

The first part of the story takes place between S3E2 and S3E4, and the second part takes place after Tommy got beat up in S3E4
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Of course it would have had to happen one day. You knew it. Yet, when you felt the strong elbow of Thomas Shelby colliding with your nose, you couldn't help the small pained cry that escaped your lips as you fell back on the floor.

Tommy had been having a fit. Again. You were used to it by now. Usually, you just had to rub his back while saying soft and soothing words, but this time it did not work. It was much worse, like you had never seen before (and God knew you'd been knowing the man for quite some time). Probably because of Tom's tiredness these past few days, or maybe because he had fallen asleep right on your desk as soon as his back had met the softness of your chair.

Nonetheless, your cry seemed to finally bring him back to the real world. He turned his head slightly to meet your gaze, and his eyes suddenly widened as he saw your teary eyes and bleeding nose. He didn't say a single word. He didn't move.

"It's okay Tom, don't worry, I'm fine." you tried to give him some reassurance.

"I... I did this..." he finally spoke, "I fucking hurt you... I-"

His voice broke, and tears began to fill his eyes, something which nearly never happened.

"What the fuck did I do ?"

"No..." you tried, getting up to give him a small hug, but he backed away.

"Stay away from me, please... I don't wanna hurt you more... Never."

"Tommy, wait-" you began, but before you could say or try anything, he had run (or more exactly stumbled) away, filled with guilt and pain. He did not look like the stern Thomas Shelby anymore, but like the traumatized young man he had been after the war... You had seen in his eyes the same fear, the same pain, the same guilt as when you used to nurse him in hospital, back in 1918.

"I'm sorry, I love you." were the last words you heard from him.

You didn't see him again for some long weeks. You were expecting it, you knew how he could act in such situations, but it still hurt your feelings deeply. He refused to see you in any way. He was too ashamed, scared by himself, and unable to cope with what had happened.

It was no big deal, really, a bleeding nose and an aching jaw, but he refused to see it. All he could see was that his subconscious had hit you purposely and he hadn't been able to do anything to stop it. You wanted to see him, to talk to him, to help him in any ways, but he was refusing, afraid that it might make things worse. You knew this behaviour would destroy him, but he was Thomas Shelby, and he had decided he couldn't take the risk to see you, and nothing would make him change his mind.

Yet you could not blame him. He was scared, scared because he cared about you, and this fear made him act in such an irresponsible way, but he could not control it. He had never recovered any sort of control over this particular type of emotions, and probably never would.