Scars

by CaptainDuckduck

Summary:

Edgar knew there was more behind the obvious when he dug the grave of Danny Owen. Too curious for his own good, he becomes involved more and more into the Shelby business.
Of course he wasn’t scared.
Not even of Tommy Shelby.

Notes:

After being scared to load up anything that is not finished because I don't want to disappoint if I lose interest, I decided to load this first chapter up since I kinda like the idea. It all started in my head when Grace mentioned that the grave for Danny was a lot deeper than usual, and all I could think of was the poor soul who had to dig that and with that, Edgar was born. Now, I do not like his name very much, but well, not everybody can have names I like.
I really hope the chapters are not too short and the story not too fast-paced, I really try to get some breaks into it, but it should be fine. Also, I may change the title later on, because I can't for the love of god come up with something good.
English is not my first language, so I apologise for any weird phrasing, I try my best
Enjoy!

Chapter 1: The grave of Danny Owen

Being a gravedigger had its perks.

Those who were buried six feet under didn’t judge you. Dead people were dead, and they stayed that way. They didn’t complain about their back or talked about the weather or looked at him with pity and disgust. The pay was almost an insult, the work was physically exhausting and the prestige that came with the job was nothing someone with a good name would want. But Edgar didn’t have a good name, or a bad one, and the pastor nearly cried out of joy when he asked him if that job as a gravedigger was still available.

After all, nobody else wanted to bury the dead, and when there is only one option you can’t be picky. No matter how his face looked. On the contrary, the pastor was a lot nicer about it than most other people. Or he was just good at pretending that he didn’t see it. Edgar, spare him the shame, was not really religious, but he had respect for it and for the rituals of letting loved ones have their last resting place. Sometimes he wondered if he should die just for the sake of finally getting some sleep.

Mindlessly he stuck his shovel in the ground and threw another pile of dirt out of the hole he stood in. He knew the name Danny, of course. Everybody who went into the Garrison once after the war knew Whizz-Bang and his shell shock. It was a matter of time until he did something that was unforgiveable. The circumstances of his death were unclear, but everything where the Shelbys were involved left people with unclear details. It was not like somebody dared to ask.
Sometimes Edgar thought it was a little silly how scared people were of them. Then again, he didn’t go to the Garrison anymore solely for the reason that he didn’t want to cross the family. Better safe than dead, after all. Even if he could need some god damn sleep.
Maybe he considered it before, but as long as Alan needed him, he couldn’t do it. Oh, who was he lying to, Edgar could never do it himself. He wanted to live, as hopeless as it seemed sometimes. Only when he dug he allowed himself to wish for rest.

Edgar groaned and stopped for a moment to stretch his back. “What do you even need such a deep grave for? Could bury two in here for god’s sake”, he muttered. Well, maybe three, if he had the bodies for it. But people rarely died how you wanted them to. Sometimes there was nothing for two weeks, and in the next Edgar had to dig five holes. Thank god, or maybe just his influence on the pastor, he got paid regularly. Not well, but regularly.
“The number of people that occupy this grave is not your concern.”

Edgar, who for a minute feared he had now finally brought god’s fury upon him, looked up to a man standing above him, exhaling cigarette smoke. He had never stared directly into the stoic eyes of Thomas Shelby, but now he was convinced that it was not god but the devil coming for him, if just to taunt him. “Don’t worry, Mister, as long as they don’t visit each other, I don’t care who is where, or how many of them. And if it’s just a really deep grave, for whatever reason, I’m not asking.” The man nodded, even when Edgar was almost positive he understood only the last part of the nonsense he talked. The only person he talked to regularly was his brother, so sometimes interactions with strangers were… difficult.

“I want to talk to you about something.” “Give me a second.” Edgar certainly didn’t think he was any better than anyone, but he was also not worth any less, and he didn’t like being talked down to. Neither in a metaphorical nor literal sense. He climbed up the unsteady wooden latter so he could stand next to the Shelby, covered in dirt and sweat with his dark brown hair stuck to his forehead. He must look ridiculous next to the well-groomed man in a suit Edgar couldn’t afford if he saved up for a year, although he was almost certain a Shelby didn’t pay for it either. At least he wasn’t looked down upon anymore, and only this small detail filled Edgar’s chest with self-confidence.

Thomas Shelby had waited patiently until Edgar asked: “What is it?” “Is it correct that you are present during the burial?” “Of course I am. I do the rest after the funeral guests are gone. Sometimes I help carrying the casket.” The Shelby nodded. “That won’t be necessary. You won’t be there during the ceremony. We would like to bury Danny ourselves for… sentimental reasons.”
Edgar blinked when it slowly dawned on him. He didn’t believe this man a single word coming from his mouth, and he knew damn well it was not Danny Owen that was going to be buried in this grave. At least not only Danny. He was digging the hole for a secret that wasn’t meant to see the light of day again. Ever.
And the worse thing was, Thomas Shelby seemed to know that too.

“As I said before, it is not your concern who is being buried here. I hope you understand.” He pulled out money from his pocket. “For the extra trouble.” Edgar looked at the money and back to the man. “You are really used to the convenience of money, aren’t you?”, he spoke before he could think about it. The Shelby furrowed his eyebrows. “Excuse me?” “I don’t want your bribe”, he hissed, “so put that back. I get it, I’m not in the position to question your motives, Mister Shelby. I won’t be here. Have a good afternoon.”

The man seemed off-guard when Edgar climbed down the latter again, deeply insulted that someone believed he could buy him that easily. He wasn’t a cheap whore, he was not desperate and it annoyed him that people thought that just because he was ugly and poor he didn’t have a sense of pride in him. Edgar was better than being bribed to not question something. Even if he could use the extra money, of course, he wasn’t a goddamn puppet and not anyone’s to buy.

Maybe it bothered him more than it should.

He heard the Shelby walking away from the grave without giving him a second look.
Slowly he began to regret what he said. Perhaps he spoke too early. He could only hope he didn’t offend him too much, or every minute could be his last.
Nothing more than another reason to finish this ridiculous request and then go home to Alan. His brother must be waiting for him by now, like he always did. Maybe he would ask him to read to him today. Alan’s voice was too soothing to not fall asleep to it, and he loved it when his brother could talk about something he was passionate about, since he couldn’t do much when he was alone at home. Edgar saved every penny possible for a new book for his brother, just to see his eyes light up with excitement when he could talk about journies to make, cases to solve and sometimes men to love.

The thought about his brother made him smile and the rest of the work was less of a burden. He finished before five, and with a strange feeling in his stomach made his way home. Somehow he expected to run into Thomas Shelby every time he turned a corner, like a never vanishing presence. The merciless gangster who saught revenge after a gravedigger basically told him to fuck off with his money.
But he wasn’t there. Still, being able to breath suddenly felt like a privilege. He hated it. It made him want to keep it.

“I’m home!”, he announced as always. Alan was sitting at the kitchen table, his feet on the second chair. He grinned when he saw him. “Hi.” His brother set the book down. “How was work?” “How are your legs?”, he asked, putting his brothers needs first as always. Alan sighed. “I have had better days, but it’s not the worst. I walked around just fine, but everything else I think would not have been possible today.” Edgar nodded. “You need anything?” “The ointment, please. On my back?” “Of course.”

He immediately reached for the ointment on the shelf. It only helped little against the pain, but he preferred this over the morphine they could barely afford.
His brother had stripped of his shirt already and put his legs on the ground so Edgar could the chair and began rubbing Alan’s back. The scent was overwhelming, but he had gotten used to it by now.
“So, back to my question you dodged. How was work?”

Edgar sighed. “It was... Well, I don’t really know what to think.” It was natural that he told his brother everything, of course. However, this time he wasn’t sure if it would be a good idea.
“What do you mean by that?” He hesitated before he continued: “You know the grave I was asked to dig today? It was for Danny Owen. When I tell you I never in my life dug such a deep grave... “ “And?” “The Shelby’s made the request. Difficult enough, you would think. But it just got a lot worse than I hoped it would be.” “How’s that?” “You won’t believe me, but Thomas fucking Shelby himself showed up today and requested that I leave them alone for the burial. They want to do it themselves, for sentimental reasons.” He laughed humorlessly. “He even offered me money for the extra trouble. I don’t believe this man a word. He’s hiding something there, and I’m not supposed to know or tell anybody, that’s why he wanted to pay me off like some cheap whore or something.” Alan hummed. “So what did you say?” “I rejected the money and told him in a rather harsh manner that I don’t appreciate being treated how he thinks he can treat me.” “But you will not go to the burial?” “No. It’s still a request and it’s not my business.” The words alone caused a tight knot in his stomach. Could he live knowing that he helped them burying their secrets? He wasn’t sure, really.

“Did he threaten you?”, Alan continued asking. “No. I went back to work and he left without another word.” “Hm.” “Alan?” “Yes?” He sighed, softly stroking across his back. “If... And it won’t happen, but if I ever not come home, you know where the money is, right?” His brother turned around and looked at him in shock. “Are you serious?” “As I said, it won’t happen, but... You can never be sure. Not just because of the Shelby, okay? I could also have an accident or something. Just... To be sure, yeah?” Alan nodded slowly. “I know. The drawer of your nightstand has a secret storage under the first floor. The money and everything else important is there.” “Did you go through my stuff?”, Edgar snickered. “Of course. What else am I supposed to do? Not look through every drawer there is? My dear brother, I cannot possibly read for the whole day. My eyes begin to hurt.” “Don’t tell me you need glasses.” “Oh no, I don’t think so. But sometimes it’s just... I don’t know. My head begins to hurt, and then everything becomes blurry and my eyes start to hurt. I just have to take a break from time to time.” “If you say so.... “

Edgar tossed and turned in his bed that night. The burial would be tomorrow in the late afternoon, and it was all he could think about.
He knew he would never be happy again if he didn’t know the truth. It had his stomach tied in knots, and his mind wouldn’t let it go until he knew.
And there was another thing.

Thomas Shelby. The man who’s face he saw every time he closed his eyes. Ice blue eyes, light freckles, sharp features. He looked younger than he was, even after the war, but Edgar suspected the lack of facial hair made it seem that way. Normally, war made people look a lot older. But not Thomas. No, he was perfect, with a face that looked like it was carved out of stone, a beautiful statue.

When he fell asleep, he saw him in his dreams. He followed Thomas Shelby through the city. Nobody else was there, but they ran from something, something that scared Edgar out of his mind. He was exhausted, gasping for air, when Thomas grabbed his hand and dragged him along. “Don’t slow down, you have to keep up.” “But the grave.... “ “There is nothing in this grave, Don’t worry. Nobody will be buried today.”
It got easier, his legs became lighter, and his breathe calmed down until they finally came to a stand. Whatever they were running from, Thomas seemed convinced that it was gone. Instead he looked him in the eye, not letting go of his hand. “You know you have nothing to fear, right?” Edgar nodded. “Nothing. Not you, not anything else.” “Not me”, Thomas reassured him, and for a moment, Edgar thought they would kiss, until he woke up and found himself in his own bed again. His brother was gone and the door was wide open, the sun just began to rise.

He sighed. This would make him go insane, he was sure.

Chapter 2: What is in the crates

Summary:

Edgar decides to be reckless and makes a friend

Notes:

Second chapter!
So, beforehand, I would like to say three things:
1. I might edit the tags, so take a look at that maybe, since my first attempt at tagging this was a mess and I might have ideas that require tagging??? Nothing too crazy, but still.
2. I usually don't like to put myself on a scedule for writing, but I will try to post once every week. This might also change since I have a lot of free time right now.
3. Thanks everyone for the Kudos, this really boosted my motivation and just generally made me really happy :)
About this chapter, I think I rewrote it three times completely and edited it more than that. It is shorter than I would like it to be, but bonus, I know where I am going from here.

By the time Edgar had finished his morning-tea, he had made a choice.

A reckless, stupid decision, but he was sure that if he just continued with his life as if nothing happened, he would never have a peaceful night again.

Edgar had to know what the Shelbys were up to. And he would find out this afternoon.

He decided to make a quick walk to the graveyard to check if everything was alright. Because he was not sure if the Shelbys would bring their own shovels, he decided to leave the two they had next to the grave. He took a long look at the stone that was chosen. It just read ‘Daniel Owen’, and was as simple and minimalistic as a gravestone can be. Maybe Danny’s family couldn’t afford better. He wondered if they were ‘invited’ to the funeral or if they were also asked to let the Shelbys alone with their sentimentality.

Edgar was about to leave when the priest approached him. “Edgar! How good to see you this morning!” “As good as any other morning I would say, pastor”, he answered, but still smiled slightly. God forbid, he didn’t like the church, but he did like the pastor. If only a little. “Oh well, perhaps, but I am just delighted to see you are alright after... Yesterday.” “Oh ?” “Forgive me for being noisy, but after Mr. Shelby left I was worried. He looked... Unhappy, to put it in a nice way.” “I was not too friendly I fear.” “Yes, yes, I reckoned that. Just, please be careful, Edgar, will you?” “I will, pastor, please don’t worry about me. Allow me one question.” “Oh, yes, of course.” “Did Shelby also tell you that you shouldn’t be here for the funeral?” The pastor looked surprised and nodded slowly. “Well, yes, he did. You too?” Edgar huffed. “They want to bury him themselves.” The pastor shrugged his shoulders. “Well, you know, sometimes people are mourning in ways that seem strange to others. Grieving can be a funny thing.” “Yeah, of course. Whatever they want.” Edgar was curious if they had offered the pastor money too. They probably did, didn’t they? And he had taken it, he was sure.

Interesting to know, that was clear.

He spent the rest of his day running some errands and strolling around Birmingham without a real destination in mind.
He could do this forever. Sometimes Edgar had the urge to run, run away from everything, run until he collapsed on the ground and couldn’t move anymore. It made his head a little quieter.

Today, his mind was filled with images from his dream. This wasn’t the first time he had dreamt or running, and most of the time it meant that horrible nights that left him without rest were ahead of him, but never before was there someone else who ran with him, who led him, and he wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean.
If it meant anything, that was, but it always did.

The closer the time for the funeral came, the more nervous he became. Edgar must have looked like a madman, going through the market the fifth time today, not stopping, not looking left or right, just marching like the devil was right behind him.
His carelessness almost made him run over a small boy.

Maybe it was both of their fault, they were both too fast and both not looking were they were going, but Edgar was taller and while he only tripped, the boy landed on his buttocks in the mud. “God, I’m so sorry, you okay?”
He almost had a heart attack when he recognised who he had actually run into.

“I’m fine”, Finn Shelby declared, grabbing the hand Edgar had stretched out to help him up again. “Sorry I ran into you.” “I think we ran into each other, so no worries.” He smiled and the boy smiled back, then furrowed his eyebrows. “What happened to your face?”
There we go.

The thing with children was that Edgar could never be angry at them. Some of them were downright frightened when they saw him, others were simply curious. Children were honest, which led him to trust them more than most adults, and most of the time they meant no harm.
Or they were incredibly cruel.

“An accident”, he responded with a sad smile. Edgar had given this answer so often, sometimes he wondered if it really wasn’t just an accident. Alan hated this answer. He could almost hear him scoff.
“Oh”, the boy answered. “Must have been a bad one.” “It was, yes.” “Does it hurt?” Edgar raised his eyebrow. “Curious one, aren’t you?” Finn looked down, his cheeks turning a little red. “Sorry.” “It’s alright, no worries.” Assuming that their interaction was done he continued his walk, a lot more relaxed than before, when the boy was suddenly next to him again. “Where are you going?” “Home.” He pointed to the basket he had carried around with him all day like one of the older ladies. “I need to bring this home.” “Can I come with you?”

Edgar looked him up and down. If this kid told his brother about his, he was fucked, probably. And he could tell him where he lived. Or that he had a brother who was vulnerable and alone most of the time.
Nobody needed to know that.
“Sure, if you want to.” Finn smiled. “I like you, you know? Even if your face looks like a prune.” “Of course you do, of course it does.” “Only a little bit! It’s smoother, I think.” “Mhm.” Edgar still couldn’t be angry at him.
At least prunes were somewhat nice. His face got compared to worse things.
He got compared to worse things.

“What are you even doing here, alone?” “What are you doing alone?” “Don’t become cheeky now, will you! I’m a grown man, I can go wherever I want alone”, he grumbled, playing the offensive part. Finn shrugged his shoulders. “Doesn’t mean you should.” “Who told you that now?” “…Tommy. He said it’s too dangerous. But I want to do things too, you know? Being home is so boring!”
Edgar snickered. “You sound just like someone I know.”

As much as he loved his brother, Alan could whine and complain about everything until Edgar completely lost it and had to yell at him to shut up. They were brothers, after all, so a bit of bickering was natural and healthy.
Alan would probably be a very sociable person if he had been given the chance. He didn’t deal with isolation well, while Edgar could shut away from the rest of the world forever, if he only had one other person to talk to. Unfortunately, this was not possible for him, so he limited contact with strangers and tried to make it through his days.

Finn began to chat away about his brothers, especially Thomas, or Tommy, which Edgar thought was a little odd to call him that. He didn’t seem like the type of man that preferred a childish nickname. Edgar certainly didn’t.

Another thing that wasn’t maybe odd but a little worrying was the admiration Finn had for his brother. Edgar wouldn’t know since he didn’t have any older brothers (or male role models, for that matter), but it made sense that Finn idolised his older brothers and their success. To him, this had two endings: Either Finn, that sweet little boy, would turn into the exact same cold businessman as Tommy was, or he was in for a bitter disappointment once he got older. Possibly both.
He didn’t say anything about it though. It was not his place to tell a little child that his family was a bunch of criminals who were probably going to die from a bullet. He was not cruel.

Once they reached the house Edgar stopped. “Well, we’re here.” “Already?” The young Shelby sounded a little disappointed, which made him raise his eyebrows. He wasn’t aware that people enjoyed his company. “We are.” “I think I have to go home now too, or Aunt Polly will scold me. Good bye… Oh, what’s your name?” He smiled. “Edgar, Finn. My name is Edgar.” “Okay, good bye, Edgar!”
When, or if Finn would take after Tommy, that would mean that he was once an innocent child too, which wasn’t as strange as it first seemed, of course he was. Well, everybody knew what happened to that innocence.

Edgar hurried to the graveyard. He wanted to be there earlier, so he could find a good hiding spot. In the end, he decided on the gravestone of Rudolph and his wife Theresa. After a sincere apology to Rudolph for misusing his grave (and to Theresa for lying with her husband), he was set and trying to get his heart to slow down. He could hear his heart beat, which was an awful feeling.
It wasn’t long until the Shelby’s showed up, with crates. A lot of crates. No casket or anything. Only crates.

Edgar’s mind went blank when he tried to make out what they were doing there. For god’s sake, how would you have to kill a man to need so many crates? The crates, what was in the crates?

He dared to take a look again, how they let down one after the other, when it dawned on him.

The guns.

It was a scare that went around Birmingham for a while. The new copper from Belfast was only here for that. The guns were stolen, and nobody knew where they were and, more importantly, who had them.
No, that was not true. Edgar knew.
The Shelby’s had them.
They were burying the guns here.
And Edgar helped them bury them.
He fucking hated guns.
He hated guns so much.

Edgar leaned against the cool stone. He felt nauseous and his head spun a little. They would need an eternity for that work.
When he peeked again, Tommy Shelby raised his head and looked in his directions for just a second.
Edgar snapped back behind the stone and covered his mouth to prevent any noise from coming out. However, he couldn’t stop his heart from beating so damn loud.
He was not entirely sure if he had seen him. Maybe he could convince him that he just imagined it.

Edgar didn’t try again. He stayed where he was and didn’t move a muscle until the sun went down and he could hear the shovels silence. Only then he dared to see if he could go.
He was alone.

Apparently, someone had mercy with him. Edgar let out a laughter of relieve before he stumbled off the graveyard.
He knew where the guns were.
He had nothing to fear.

Chapter 3: Making friends and promises

Summary:

Edgar feels the consequences of his spying, makes a friend and meets Tommy Shelby again.

Notes:

Back with another one!
This chapter is longer and I am actually pretty happy with it, aside my fear that it's all too fast-paced, but oh well. Please excuse any typos, I went over the chapter yesterday night, so I might have overlooked some things.
Thanks for all the Kudos, I appreciate it a lot!
Have fun :)

Edgar tried to sleep that night. He really did.

But when he woke up again, he could still see Thomas Shelby’s eyes in the dark, like two will-o’-the-wisps, leading him more and more into dark forests to the point of no return, and leaving him there to die on his own.
But he was not in a forest, he was in his bed, staring at the ceiling. Alan’s snoring on the opposite side of the room was a constant reminder of his brother’s presence, and it made him want to cry his eyes out. “Oh my poor mother”, he sighed. “I am sorry for failing him. I am so sorry.” It would break her heart if she knew that her son was throwing away his life for crawling around the graveyard, spying after gangsters and abandoning his baby brother. He also knew that Alan didn’t give a damn about what mother would have wanted for him. They had fought over it more than once.

The next day, however, went by suspiciously uneventful.

Edgar wasn’t sure what he had thought would happen, but his expectation was closer to “all hell breaks loose” than a quiet day off.
It was raining since five in the morning, turning Birmingham into a mud puddle he was more than happy to avoid. Instead, he devoted his day to his brother. Alan asked him more than once were he was yesterday. He dodged the questions, and drove him a little insane with it. They cooked lunch together, played cards, played chess, Alan read to him and annoyed every bit of sanity out of each other. However, his brother decided to be extra persistent.

“So, but honestly, where were you yesterday?” Edgar shrugged his shoulders, not letting his eyes of the potato he was peeling. He hoped if he just avoided the question long enough, Alan would let it go. Of course he didn’t. “Oh, come on, Eddie. If you continue to be so mysterious about it I must start to believe that you got yourself a secret boyfriend.” There was a mischievous sparkle in Alan’s eyes. Edgar huffed, but couldn’t repress the slight smile. “Believe what you want.”

His brother set the knife down, his eyes got bigger. “No! Edgar! Why didn’t you tell me! I’m your brother, don’t you think I have a right to know?!” He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t have a boyfriend, Alan.” “Liar! You met him in secret yesterday! Why didn’t you tell me? Is he Italian?” “What do you have against Italians?” “I don’t, and you know that! I just didn’t think you would date one again.” “I don’t have a secret boyfriend, Alan, really. I just… I just needed to do something at the graveyard.” Alan made a disgusted face. “Ew, why would you meet at the graveyard? I am pretty sure that is blasphemous.” Edgar rolled his eye. “Our both existence is blasphemous, Alan. And for the last time, I don’t have a boyfriend.” “Yeah, sure. Would have surprised me anyway. Like you would talk to people.” He threw a potato-peel at him, but missed by far, since potato-peels were hard to throw. Alan threw back a whole potato and called him a stupid idiot. Edgar told him to shut up.

It was a good day.

No, it was the day after that when everything went downhill.

Edgar had to dig another two new graves, which was a pain because the earth was still mud and heavy and near impossible to work with, when he was interrupted again.
He could already see him approach Edgar from far away. The Peaky Blinders and their fucking berets. For a moment he considered trying to run, which probably wouldn’t help much. He could also beat him up with the shovel, which could give him a bit more time, but still wouldn’t be ideal, since the man probably carried a gun with and Edgar was not particularly prone to murder.

He decided to ignore him for now. Maybe he was just imagining it. Maybe it was all just a scare and when he looked up again… “Are you Edgar Murphy?”
Edgar closed his eyes and let out a sigh before he answered. “Yes, that’s me. What do you want?” It was not Thomas this time, but his younger brother, John. He has never seen him up close before, and dear god if he wasn’t the definition of baby-face who else? “Tommy wants to talk.”
John wasn’t as good as his brother at hiding what he thought of Edgar. There was a slight horror in his eyes when he tried not to stare at his scared face. Shock. Edgar had seen it often enough. He didn’t get why people were still surprised.
But granted, it looked a lot worse up close.

“So?” He continued to do his work, pretending to be unbothered. In reality, he was terrified. All he could think about was Alan. Alan. What would he do if he didn’t come home? Did they know? Did they know his brother was home alone? “You will come to the Garrison with me.” “Now?” “Tommy doesn’t like to wait.” Edgar wanted to scream. Or laugh. Something to relieve the tension just a little bit. “And I don’t like to leave work unfinished. I will come to the Garrison when I’m done.” “You serious?”

He looked at the man again, who seemed off-putted by his behaviour. Maybe he was surprised that someone was not jumping at Thomas’ every command. “Quite serious”, he answered with a smile before he groaned, frustrated with everything. He needed a break, but Mr Blinder here probably wouldn’t allow him one.
Oh, how much he loved working alone.

John let out a small laugh. “Tommy was right. You are a prickly one.” “Prickly? Really? That’s how he chose to describe me?” “He also said you have a nasty scar, but I didn’t expect it to be that bad.” “Oh yeah, your brother said I look like prune. You Shelby’s are such delightful characters to be around”, Edgar tried to counter him, overgoing the comment about his face. He didn’t need to talk about that now.

John laughed. “Which brother?” “The young one.” That made him falter a bit. “Finn said that?” “It’s alright. People have told me worse.” “How do you know Finn?” “We ran into each other, only a few days ago, at the market. He walked home with me.”
The Shelby was quiet for a moment, and Edgar had almost lost himself in his work again, when he interrupted him again. “Seriously, we are going now. We don’t have time for this.” “Oh, I do. If you don’t want to wait, you are free to go, as I said, I will come to the Garrison later.” “Yeah, right. What if you leave Birmingham?” “And you think I can just do that? Leave and never come back? Right.” “You could try.” If he knew. God if he knew. “And I’m telling you I can’t, and I won’t try.” “You are fucking serious.”
It was quiet after that again, when he heard a defeated sigh. “How long will it take?” “One to two hours, I guess. More likely two. Wet dirt is a piece of work.” “Alright, I’ll wait.”

It didn’t take long until John started another conversation: “What in the world made you become a gravedigger? It’s not a really charming job, is it?” “It’s not like it takes away from me, is it? I don’t care for being charming. And I like it here. It’s quiet.” “Sure, but doesn’t it scare away the ladies?” Was he really going to make the conversation about women? Jesus Christ. “Oh, be sure, they are usually scared away before they talk to me.” He laughed again. “Oh, it can’t be that bad.” “Maybe it wouldn’t be. I don’t talk to people.” “No? So you’re just all by yourself?” Except for his brother… “Yes.” “Don’t you get lonely sometimes? I mean, I get it, wanting to be alone sometimes, but all the time?” “Don’t you think these are awfully personal questions to ask a stranger?” “Maybe. I also really want to get to know the man who told Tommy to his face that he didn’t want his money.” Now Edgar laughed too. “Is it so unbelievable that I don’t want a bribe?” “Well, you certainly surprised Tommy. He was in a mood for the whole evening.”

He was quiet for a moment before he answered: “Sometimes. I never learned how to make friends.” Maybe he would have if they hadn’t been so goddamn cruel so him. “Well, maybe we can be friends?”
Edgar stopped in his movement and looked at the Shelby. “Really?” “Why not? You’re funny.” “You expect me to get out of this alive?” Now it was John who froze, but then shrugged it off. “I think so. Tommy is way too invested in you to just kill you off.” Edgar furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Oh, don’t worry about it.” He did, in fact, worry about it.

“Can I ask what happened to your face?”, John wanted to know after some time. “Accident”, Edgar answered almost mechanically. “An accident?” “Yes.” “What kind of accident does that to your face?” “It’s burn damage. So an accident where fire or a hot surface were included.” “You are not going to tell me more, are you?” “Preferably not.” He saw John nod, who then continued with a grin: “So, why don’t you really have a girl? The rest of you is pretty handsome.” “That way I can trick men into calling me handsome.” “Ah, see what you did there.” “Honestly, I am not looking for one. I am fine all by myself.” He couldn’t possibly tell John that he did not care for women, but was rather looking for a man. No, that was not a conversation you had with anyone besides your brother who exactly got what you were talking about.
Well, not exactly. They had very different approaches to sex. But when it came to attraction, they understood each other, which was nice.

“Still sounds lonely to me.” “Why do you ask anyway? If you continue like this, I have to believe that you want something else from me than friendship.” Jokes were a thin line, some took them very well, some very bad. But overall, Jokes were accepted. You could joke about anything, but don’t you dare to be queer.
John took it well and laughed it off. “No offense, but I’m not that desperate that I would turn to men.” Edgar didn’t say anything, just let the topic fade away like all every other one before.

Eventually, after the two estimated hours of digging, he was done. His hands and arms hurts, and he was dirty all over again, but besides that, it was fine.
He followed John to the Garrison without another word of exchange. Even if John had said he probably wouldn’t die, there was so much uncertainty about meeting Thomas it drove him insane.
In his dream, he had promised him that Edgar had nothing to fear. Not even him. But dreams were dreams, and while they had their meanings, that didn’t mean that humans were always able to translate them correctly. That was the thing with fortune telling.

When they arrived at the Garrison Edgar began to understand why Thomas wanted to see him in the early afternoon. Now they were people here, and he assumed an audience wasn’t appreciated if you had to shoot somebody. Not that anybody would say anything, especially not for Edgar, but it was not the most positive influence for the public image, if you cared about that. Thomas seemed like somebody who cared about how the public saw him.

Edgar also noticed the new barmaid, or at least he had never seen her before. Blonde, beautiful woman. He didn’t even know they allowed women to work at the pub. Good for her.

John lead them to a secluded area of the pub, where nobody would see or hear them (at least at a normal volume). The Shelby tensed as soon as they entered. “I just wanted to send somebody for you”, he accused his brother. “Edgar didn’t want to leave work unfinished, and I thought bringing him here at gunpoint would have been a little too attention-grabbing.”

Thomas’ glance seemed to pierce right through him, when he pointed to the chair opposite him. “Sit.” Without arguing this time, Edgar sat down, just a little hesitatingly. “What do you want to drink?”, Thomas asked him. It was a weirdly polite question for the situation, but Edgar had to disappoint him. “I don’t drink.” “Yes, you do.” “I don’t want to drink with you.”

There was that look again. That look like he was offended and fascinated at the same. “I’ll pay.” “I assumed, since you offered.” “So what do you want?” “I want nothing from you.” In this moment the barmaid came in, with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. She said nothing to him, only gave him a fleeting look, before she placed the glasses and whiskey before them. Thomas nodded at her before she left again.
Edgar took one glass and turned it around before he could even think of pouring him. Thomas simply took the glass, turned it around before he still poured him.
He wanted to smack him with the glass, but held himself back. Not now.

“I know it was you who saw us.” He took a sip of his own whiskey. Edgar didn’t answer, just held the eye contact. It was quiet for a while, until Thomas asked again: “It was you, wasn’t it?” “You just said you knew.” “And you know what is buried there?” “There is nothing in the grave”, he whispered, seeing dream-Tommy right before him. “Nothing?” “No. Nothing.”

He observed him, like he was a newly discovered animal he tried to understand.
The question came out before he could stop himself. “Why didn’t you kill me yet?” Thomas raised his eyebrows. “Should I?” “Why didn’t you? I don’t understand? If I could go to the coppers and tell them everything, why would you risk it?” “Why didn’t you go to the coppers then? You could have.”
Edgar hesitated, thinking of an answer. He didn’t even have one. Funny enough, the thought of reporting the whole thing to the police hadn’t even crossed his mind once.

“I figured if I would tell on you, they would just dig the guns up again. It’s better if they stay buried.” “You don’t like guns?” Edgar smiled and shook his head. “No. I hate guns.” “Because of the war?”
That surprised him. Maybe it was normal to assume that, but dear god why did he bring that up now? Where was this conversation even going? Edgar began to think that Thomas just called him up to have an afternoon-chat because he was bored. Or was he just trying to figure out if he would report them or not?
“I wasn’t in the war”, he admitted. It was one of the few times he considered himself lucky that Alan was disabled. This way, he had an excuse to stay home and Alan couldn’t go and get himself killed for god-knows-what. Still, people were ridiculously judging about everyone who wasn’t ready to pick up a gun and fight for his country.

“You weren’t”, Thomas sounded surprised, and he had a shine in his eye that made Edgar feel uneasy. “Why not?” He kept quiet for a while, not wanting to defend himself, or tell them about Alan. But then again, maybe, maybe this was his chance to get out of this. “I have a brother. Couldn’t leave him.” Thomas himself had a younger brother, he would understand. He hoped.

“A brother?” “Yes.” “Is he young?” Of course Alan was underaged when the war began, but now, with 22… “No.” “Then why?”
Edgar grabbed his glass of whiskey and took a sip. Screw the devil for his fidgety hands. “He’s disabled. He can’t…” He had wanted to say that Alan couldn’t take care of himself, but that was a lie, for the most part. His brother could take care of himself, he could cook and bathe and keep himself busy. He just couldn’t take on a job or walk from time to time. “He is dependent on me”, Edgar answered instead, which was the truth without making Alan look bad. As someone who was confronted with words so much, the fine differences between words mattered a great deal to his brother, and Edgar took that to heart.

“So there isn’t anyone else who can take care for him?” He shook his head. “No.” Edgar could see Thomas weighing his options, and he could tell that he had won. “I know this probably doesn’t matter to you, but I promise to not say a word about this. The guns are gone, it’s good. Sell them if you have to, I will shut. I wouldn’t beg for my life if it wasn’t for my brother, but… please.”

Thomas looked him up and down. “How do you manage to be so disrespectful yet plead for your life without being pathetic?” “If it was my disrespect, as you call it, that brought me here, you could have just killed me in the graveyard and bury me with the guns.”
Then, something truly unexpected happened. The Shelby smiled, even if just a little. It made everything else fade around him, and, Edgar had to admit, Thomas looked beautiful when he smiled. “You are a strange man, Edgar.” With that, he downed the rest of his whiskey. “I take your word. You can go.”

Edgar couldn’t really believe it, but when he stood up, the Shelby didn’t stop him. “Good evening, Mr Shelby”, he said his goodbye, before he left the room.
John had waited in front of the door. “See, I told you.” “You did”, Edgar muttered, his heart beating so loud he could hear it, his hands still clenched in fists to stop them from shaking.

“You’ll have a drink with me?”
Edgar turned to him, trying to pull himself together. He was so done for today, it felt like his brain had stopped working. “You know what, sure. I’ll drink with you.”
John grinned. Edgar smiled back.

Tommy’s smile was carved into his memory.

Chapter 4: Getting drunk with a friend

Summary:

Edgar gets drunk, talks with his brother and almost dies of a heartattack

Notes:

Back with a new chapter!
A little later than I wanted, but still. I finished it yesterday night and didn't read the whole thing through, so please excuse any typos/weird phrasing.
I don't feel anything particular about this chapter, other than it's kinda unspectacular? It does add more perspective to Edgar and his relationship with his brother, so if you like him, you might enjoy this.
I really begin to grow on my medium-salty Mr I-fix-everything-but-my-own-problems.
But anyways, thanks everyone for kudos and comments, I cherish every appreciation or feedback I can get ^^
Have fun with the chapter!

Edgar himself had never gotten into the habit of drinking.

Of course he had went to pubs, thinking that maybe it would make him fit in. People always said that alcohol made them relax, that they could finally loosen up and escape from their problems for a while, but none of it seemed true for him. On the contrary, when Edgar drank all he felt was dread and desperation, the fear of losing himself. He remembered the terrified child he once was. When there was alcohol, there was no control, no getting away from him. No, you had to wait until it was over, until he was so drunk he couldn’t walk anymore and fell asleep.

The last time he drank was when the war ended, and Alan had wanted to go. It was also the only time they went drinking together. Alan loved it. He said it made him feel all warm inside, and the pain more bearable. It had tied up his stomach in knots.

Drinking with John was easier, because John made an effort to keep the conversation going and him from zoning out, which kept him from the dark places his mind liked to wander to. Edgar became more comfortable and started to warm up to John and their conversation, which was probably also the alcohol’s fault. Even the looks felt not as much as a burden than usual.
Edgar could still feel them, almost like they were piercing into him, digging under his skin as if it would tell them the secret of his scar. He tried not to think about it too much.

Eventually, their conversation circled back to women. “You know, I have been seeing a girl, Edgar. But I know me brothers wouldn’t approve of her.” “Why not?” John’s smile faded a little. “You know Lizzie Stark?” He had to think about it for a moment, but then he nodded. “I do, actually. She comes by every now and then, brings flowers to her mother’s grave.” Not that he had talked to her much. Besides an occasional “Good morning, Miss”, they haven’t spoken to each other for months, until one time she had slipped on an icy spot and Edgar had helped her up. That was also when he found out her name. “She seems like a nice girl. Why wouldn’t your brothers approve of her?”

John blinked and laughed at him. “You really don’t talk to other people voluntarily, do you?” “What?” “You don’t have a girl at home and now you tell me you don’t see whores? Is that the catholic influence?” Edgar rolled his eyes. “I’m not religious, John. I simply don’t like to take advantage of women in vulnerable positions.” Even if they weren’t, he would never do that with a stranger. Intimacy was, well, difficult, like a lot of other things.
John kept quiet for a while, unsure of what he should say. Or maybe he felt bad.

“So, Lizzie Stark is a prostitute?”, Edgar decided to ask the obvious. “Not anymore. But she was, and I don’t think my brothers will believe me when I say that she stopped.” “And? How is that your problem?” John shook his hand. “Not everyone can rebel against Tommy as you do, Edgar.” “If it’s for such a reason, you can. If she’s good for you, and honest to you, and if you’re good and honest to her, that’s all you need, I think. Not that I know much about such things anyways. Amen.” “Amen!”, John shouted and raised his glass, enthusiastic again. Some people turned their head and gave the pair some strange looks. Not that anybody dared to say a word.

“So you would marry a prostitute?” Edgar took a sip of his drink. Oh boy. “I, John, would not marry anyone.” “No? Why not?” Because marriage was not legal for him. Or a relationship. Or anything of that nature. “Because for that I would have to talk to someone, and seeing as I befriended you, the next time I let myself get involved with a stranger is in around ten years.” “No, not with me. We have to get you out of that house. What are you doing the whole time alone anyway?”
Edgar smiled. He figured now that Tommy knew, it didn’t matter if he told him. “Talking to my brother, what else?”

John’s eyes widened in surprise. “You have a brother?” Now he was the one who laughed. “I do.” “Why didn’t you tell me that before! Older or younger?” “Younger. He’s 22 now.” “And you live with him? Is he also shy?” Not that Edgar believed he was shy. Just quiet. “Oh, no. Alan is everything but shy. And yes, we live together, always have.” “You should bring him sometime. You already know two of my brothers, so it’s only fair.” “Or you come by sometimes.” “Well, I don’t know were you live.” “If you pick me up from work, we can walk together.”

Edgar wasn’t ashamed of his brother. No. But bringing him to the pub objected them both to stares, that became worse once he had to carry Alan out of the pub because his legs wouldn’t cooperate. People were awfully judgmental.
John furrowed his eyebrows at his insistency, but then agreed. “I will come by some time, then.”

Edgar said his goodbyes when it was long dark outside, and walked home, at least as good as he could. He got drunk awfully quick, and it showed.
Once he arrived home, he stumbled into the flat and got himself a glass of water. There was a tight knot forming in his throat, keeping him from breathing. Why did he feel so empty? Like something in his chest was sucking his soul out of his body and left behind a cold numbness. Was there anybody here? He craved it. He craved the closeness so much, somebody to hold him in his arms, to kiss his forehead before he went to sleep, to show him he was not alone, not a monster unworthy of love, even when he was drunk.

He missed his mother. The guilt he felt about her death still ate him up.

“Edgar? Are you finally home?” Alan blinked at the bright light, his light brown curls an uncontrolled mess on his head. His little brother had always been the image of their mother. Even the poor excuse of a beard on his chin and upper lip that Alan was so proud of or the sharp jawline couldn’t hide the softness underneath, the same dark brown eyes and little curls he had always loved. It chased a little bit of the void away.

“Go back to bed, Alan.” Instead, his brother came closer. “Are you drunk?” Edgar turned away from him a little. “Maybe.” “You’ve been drinking. Really?”, his brother snickered. “Why have you done that, you hate drinking?” “I was invited”, Edgar blurted out, losing his balance for a second and gripping onto the kitchen counter. “Invited? By who?” “My… friend.” “Edgar.” “Yes?” “You don’t have friends.” “I do now. He wants to meet you.”

Edgar emptied the glass and set it on the counter. Alan raised his eyebrows. “And it’s really just a friend?” “Yes. A friend. John.” “Ah. John.” “Alan?” “Yes?” He closed his eyes before he mumbled: “I got myself into trouble.”

His brother stared at him, processing what he had confessed. It must sound stupid. Edgar never got into trouble. “What kind of trouble?” “Serious trouble. I spied on… on the Shelbys.” Alan frowned. “The gangster family?” “Yeah.” “And now?” “Now… They didn’t kill me, but… I think I got myself into something.” “Well, fuck.” “John Shelby is my friend now.” “Seriously?” “Yeah.”

Alan put a hand on his shoulder. “How about we get you to bed, hm? You can explain everything in the morning, when you are sober again, okay?” His brother wanted to push him into the direction of the bedroom, but Edgar pulled him into a hug instead. “I love you.”
When he felt his brother’s arms around him, it was a little better. He still felt anxious, but not as empty as before. He wasn’t alone. “I love you too, Edgar.”

Edgar didn’t dream that night, which was fine. He was a little dizzy once he woke up, but besides, he was fine. He was so fucking fine he wanted to scream into his pillow.

After a long moment of staring at the ceiling, wondering what the hell had possessed him to think that anybody would seriously want to be his friend, he got up. His brother already sat in the kitchen, watching him closely. “Good morning.”

Of course Edgar remembered yesterday. He told Alan something he wasn’t supposed to know. Although he trusted him with his life and normally spoke with him about everything, he also preferred to leave out things that Edgar thought were more harmful than important. His trouble with the Shelbys, especially Thomas, was one of those things he would have liked to keep to himself, but for that it was too late now.

“Good morning”, he answered, looking at the can of coffee his brother had brewed. “I think we have to talk.” “We do.” Alan closed the boom he has been re-reading, “The Picture Of Dorian Gray”, and set it on the table. “Sit your ass down, I’m not doing this with you in a rush. And don’t you dare run away from this.”
Edgar grabbed a mug, poured himself some coffee and then sat down in front of his brother. He was not in a rush. Far from it.
They looked at each other for a long time without saying a word. He knew that Alan wanted him to start explaining, but he certainly wouldn’t. Edgar would answer every question his brother had, but he wouldn’t tell him anything more than that, and Alan knew it.

Finally, his brother sighed. “Edgar, what the fuck?” “What?” “Why did you spy on the Shelbys?” Now it was his turn to sigh. Why was it so difficult to be open sometimes? “Look, I told you about the strange request, didn’t I? I couldn’t sleep that night, and I wasn’t sure if I would ever if I didn’t know what they were hiding. So, I spied on them.” “And?” “And?” “What are they hiding?”

Edgar looked at his hands. They felt cold, and the warm mug was a nice contrast to that. “You read about the guns, didn’t you?” It was quiet. Then Alan let out a laughter. “No.” “Yes.” “They buried the guns?” “They did.” “Fuck. And they saw you?” “Thomas Shelby did. He’s the boss, you know? Yesterday, he sent his brother to take me to the Garrison.” “And?” “I finished my work and then went. He wanted to talk.” “Edgar, I swear to god, if I have to keep pulling everything out of your nose I will strangle you.”

Edgar smiled. Yes, that was Alan, his beloved baby brother. John would like him. “We talked. I told him the guns were buried for good and that I wouldn’t tell on him. Then he asked me if I was in France. I said no, and he asked why. I told him it was because of you. So, he asked about you. I told him you were disabled and dependent on me. I think that changed his mind, if he ever wanted to kill me. John had said before that he wouldn’t. So, he called me strange and then said he took my word. His brother invited me to drink, and I said yes. And that was it.”
Alan’s eyes had gotten bigger with disbelieve. Then he laughed and shook his head. “You still surprise me, you know that? Of all the things you could have done, this was on the bottom of the list. You said your friend wanted to meet me?” “Of course I had to tell John about you, and he said I should bring you sometimes.” “Then why not? I would love to.” “I know, but…”

His brother smile was wiped off of his face in a second. “You said no.” He sounded disappointed, and although Edgar felt bad, he still believed it was better this way. “Maybe we can, one day. I just thought that maybe the first meeting should happen here, you know? Where you are safe.” “I don’t need you to baby me”, Alan scolded him, clearly irritated at his concern. “I know”, he tried to defend himself, “and I understand that you are angry. I made a decision for you I shouldn’t have made, and I am sorry, okay? I also think that it would be safer, because I don’t know John that well, he doesn’t know about your disability and I can kick him out easier than getting you out of the Garrison.”

Alan looked at him for a long moment, then slowly nodded. “I understand.” “I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. I’m glad you tell people that I exist.” Edgar frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?” “Because you were ashamed of me?”

As he voiced his concern his brother avoided eye contact, something he often did when he felt unsure or sad. He knew how much Alan hated pity, but he still felt sorry for him. Edgar would never understand his frustrations completely, since he wasn’t the one that had to live with all the burdens that Alan carried around. In that moment, it was obvious he had thought about that for a long time. “Alan.” He smiled softly. “I am not ashamed of you. I could never. You are so many things I am not, that make me look up to you, even though you are my younger brother. I always have. And I always will.”
Alan smiled back at him.

Sometimes, Edgar wished he could have done more than getting Alan through childhood. Sometimes he wished he could have gotten him more opportunities to be a normal child, not having to worry about his legs or parents or even Edgar himself.

Later that afternoon, he attended a funeral. As always, he stayed on the side, praying with the family and waiting until they were gone to finish closing up the grave.
He had barely paid any attention to his surroundings, until a voice startled him. “What made you become a gravedigger?”
It had caught him off-guard in a way that actually made him let out a yelp, turning to the man that had appeared out of nowhere beside him. Thomas Shelby. Of course. Who else?

When you thought the curse was gone, it will come back to haunt you yet again.

Chapter 5: Invite me (or I'll do it myself)

Summary:

Tommy wants to get to know Edgar, but Edgar has a hard time trusting people. They walk together, Edgar gets angry, but just a little
You could call it a date.

Notes:

Another. Chapter! I'm so excited.
Does it feel good? Yes and no. But it's funny, because my boy Tommy is just trying to have something in his life and he wants it now, and Edgar is not having it
Please excuse any typos, I just finished this and I didn't double-check everything.
Thanks everyone for the kudos and comments! :)

“Do not ever sneak up on me like that again! Jesus Christ, I thought you didn’t want to kill me!” “I don’t”, Thomas defended himself with the same controlled expression he always had. Edgar decided to ignore it and go back to his work.

“So?”, Thomas asked again after a while. “Why the question?”, Edgar countered. He didn’t understand the sudden interest in his personal life that everyone seemed to have lately. Granted, he was used to it coming from Alan, but now John and Tommy? This was a new kind of attention he wasn’t sure he liked.
“I just wondered what made someone dig in the dirt all day to bury dead people.” Thomas eyed the shovel in a way that made Edgar frown. He looked so… tense, was the best word he could find. Thomas looked at the shovel the same way Edgar had looked at guns, like it reminded him of something horrible. He could see him fading away, before he shook his head.

For a moment, Edgar caught himself feeling sorry for him. He didn’t know what exactly he had gone through, but he believed he had a good idea of what it felt like.
“Well, somebody has to bury the dead. And they are nicer to me than most living people. The job was available, so I do it. I have my peace, I don’t have to talk to people, I get paid. That’s it.” “John said you’re not religious, yet you still work for the church.” Edgar stopped for a moment to stretch his back properly. So Thomas had talked to John about him? That surprised him as much as it worried him. There was a little something else flourishing in his stomach though, something close to excitement. Edgar pushed it aside as another side effect related to his anxiety, although it didn’t feel like it at all. It felt calmer.

“I don’t work for the church.” “You don’t?” “No. Many people believe that, but it’s not true. I work closely with the church, and the pastor. That being said, I’m more or less employed by the town, and get either paid by whoever pays for the funeral or the town, if nobody else does. I’m just optional, after all, everybody is free to bury their loved ones themselves, if they wish to do so. Most don’t”, he explained, while sitting down on the grass. It was a nice day actually, with the sun peaking shyly through the clouds.

Again, he could feel Thomas staring at him, but he wasn’t as uncomfortable as usually. “Can I ask you a question then?” “What question?” He looked up to the man, lighting himself a cigarette.
Edgar had also never liked cigarettes. Maybe he was exaggerating, but he was convinced it couldn’t be good to inhale that much smoke all the time. He briefly wondered how old Thomas was. By the time his father was around thirty, he could listen to him cough for an hour after he woke up. He never gave up smoking.
“Why does everybody call you Tommy? Quite a childish nickname, isn’t it?” “Of all the questions you have, this is what you want to ask?” “Seems like it.”

For a long moment it was just quiet, just Thomas observing Edgar observing him. It didn’t feel as strange as it should. “They always called me Tommy. I only got called Thomas when I was in trouble. So I stuck with it.” “You prefer Tommy?” “I do.” Edgar hummed, before becoming quiet again. He really thought Tommy would leave him alone now, but the man didn’t seem to plan to do so. “Is it my turn again?” “To what?” “Ask you a question, of course.”

He sighed and got up from the ground. This was ridiculous. “What is it with you interrogating me, all of a sudden?” “I’m not trying to interrogate you. I’m just trying to get to know you.” “And what is that good for?”, he asked, slightly irritated. What game was this man playing? It didn’t matter, Edgar didn’t like it. “Well, since both Finn and John are so fond of you, I reckon I should know a little more about you, don’t you think? I’m sure you would do the same thing for your brother.” He sounded angry, like it was a crime to question him and his motives.

Well, in Tommy Shelby’s book, it probably was.

“Still. You’re all asking me so awfully personal questions, I don’t get how it’s your business.” Tommy stared at him silently, before he gestured at his face. “How did that happen?” “It was an accident.” “What an accident?” “It’s a burn scar, so an accident involving fire or hot surfaces. Maybe chemicals, but in my case, there weren’t.” “So it was a fire?” “Or a hot surface.” “Stop talking around it!”, he demanded, now definitely on edge, but so was Edgar. “I will talk around it until you drop it, because I won’t tell you! It’s personal, okay, you don’t just get to know that, I don’t even know you!” “Then ask.” “What?” “A question. It’s your turn now.”

Edgar rammed the shovel into the earth with more force than necessary. “I'm not asking again, what do you want, Shelby?” “I asked you a second question, so you get one too. It’s only fair.” He huffed in disbelieve. This man was driving him just a little insane. “Good, then. Why the fuck do you stare at the shovel like that?” “Like what?” “Like it murdered your entire family! You have this look in your eyes when you see it, when you're actually paying attention to it, and I know that look. So?”

Now it was his turn to get personal, and for a second Edgar thought that maybe he had won and he would finally leave. Instead, Tommy surprised him. Again. “I was a tunneller in France. I still hear the shovels sometimes. It’s just… watching you dig reminded me of that. I don’t understand how you find your peace here.”
It felt too intimate to know this about Tommy Shelby, gangster of Small Heath. But Edgar got it, even if he couldn’t open up to him like he did just now, he understood. He knew how it felt like to wake up at night because you heard it. The loud bang. Just when you thought it was gone, it came back.
Bang.

Just like Tommy, but in a much worse way.

Funny enough, it could have also been the shovel, of course, but for him, the act of burying was more grounding than anything else.
“It’s not that bad. It’s mindless work, that keeps me occupied just enough to not drift off somewhere I don’t want to be. I know many people don’t like graveyards, because it reminds them of death and losing, but I like it here. People don’t ask me questions, or look at me with that… that something in their eyes. They just take me how I am. The dead don’t care. The shovel doesn’t hurt.”

Tommy nodded slowly, stomping his cigarette out on the ground just to light another. “Unlike the guns.” “Unlike the guns, yes.” “You don’t like guns, do you?” “No, but I wouldn’t know one who does.” “Why do you not?”
He smiled slightly. “That were two questions there, Mr. Shelby. It’s my turn again.” “My bad.” There was that little smile. It was so small you could miss it, but it seemed genuine. Edgar had to think of a question, not sure what he wanted to ask.

“I wonder, did John just tell you everything, or did you have him recite our conversation to you once you found out about it?” Now Tommy huffed, looking just a little embarrassed about the question. “I asked him what you talked about later, so he told me. That was everything.” “Mhm. Sure.” Edgar had the feeling he was missing something, a detail that would make everything make sense. He just couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Why do you dislike guns so much?” “Because I dislike violence in general. The only time I held a gun was when my father took me on a hunting trip when I was seventeen. It was one of the worst times of my life, which is why I dislike guns especially.” Soon, he would be done. Than he could go home. “Was it my brother that made you change your mind? About killing me?”

Tommy exhaled the cigarette smoke, and Edgar didn’t find the smell as bothersome as usually. It still didn’t appeal him, but it was not terrible. “It is one thing to kill a man with a family. It is another if the only family he has left is a brother who needs him. I don’t like doing it either, you know?” “So you didn’t want to kill me and were just looking for an excuse.” “That were two questions, Mr. Murphy.” “My bad.”

It was unexpectedly nice, going back and forth with their stupid questions that were still too personal for Edgar’s taste, but they got to know each other, he had to give Tommy that.
“Would you also invite me into your house like you did with John?”

Edgar froze. What? From where the hell was that coming from now? He laughed nervously, unsure about how he should react. “Why would you want that?” “Why not? John wants to meet your brother, so do I.”
He stared at him with big eyes, but Tommy didn’t show any sign that he was joking.
“You really mean it.” “I do.”
Fuck.
How could he let this happen? Fuck.

It was too much, too intimate, too vulnerable. He couldn’t just let him in his life.
Edgar’s scar burned. He knew it shouldn’t, but it was hot, and it hurt like hell. Why did it bother him so much? It didn’t bother him with John. But Tommy, Tommy felt different.

He had to figure this out later. Some day. Not now. Now was too close. “I don’t want you to meet my brother.” “Why? He doesn’t like other people?” “No. He likes to be around people. It’s just…” “You just don’t want me there.” Tommy spat the words at him, and for a moment he felt like a child again.
“I…” His face hurt so much he wanted to peel his skin off, just to make it stop burning. What was he so scared of?
“You can come”, he pressed out. “You just… you make me…” Edgar wiped his sleave across his face. It felt warm under his fingers. He knew it was all just in his head. “Are you okay?”

Tommy watched him closely, and Edgar thought he sounded concerned. Or as concerned as he would get for a stranger. “It’s fine. It’s just my face.” “Your face?” “It burns. But it’s fine, it goes away.” Tommy didn’t feel unsafe. It was Edgar telling him these things about himself, things that only Alan knew, that made him feel unsafe.
He allowed himself to look into his eyes. Tommy was a handsome man, he recognised. His eyes didn’t seem half as cold as he remembered. Edgar wondered if that was what the sea looked like. The panic in him settled a little. It scared him just as much.

He remembered the dream he had of him. Tommy had assured him that he had nothing to fear. Was that the hint he had to take? Why would he trust him so much?
“If you feel so uncomfortable with me being there, I won’t”, Tommy muttered. “I’m sorry, I am not used to people, and sometimes it gets to me. You can come, I guess. But don’t expect a drink. I don’t keep alcohol in the house.” “Why’s that?” Edgar huffed. “I don’t need my brother to turn into an alcoholic. We have enough problems, we don’t need “severe addiction” on that list.”

He took a look at the grave and made a cross. Tommy gave an amused chuckle next to him. “You said you aren’t religious.” “I’m not. It doesn’t mean anything to me, but maybe it does to her. Poor girl was eleven.”

Edgar then turned around and walked away, and for a moment thought Tommy would just let him go. But when he wanted to turn around to check, the man had appeared next to him. “So you’re going home and that’s it?” “No. I actually wanted to stop by a book shop.” “You like to read?” “Don’t have to. Alan reads to me. He has to keep himself busy somehow.” Tommy nodded. “Do you mind if I join you?”

Edgar furrowed his eyebrows. “Mister Shelby, I begin to think you want to spend time with me.” “Maybe I do. Call me Tommy.” “People will think we have a personal relationship.” “Do we not?” “I didn’t think so until you asked me to call you by your nickname.” “People can think what they want. If somebody says a word, I’ll cut their eyes out.”
He raised his eyebrows and let out a sigh. “Alright. I won’t stop you.” “Good.”

 

Walking with Tommy was a pleasant experience, Edgar had to admit. Everybody greeted them, and the odd looks they got was because they walked together, and not because of his face. At least Edgar liked to think that. They didn’t talk on their way, but the silence wasn’t bad either. It gave Edgar some time to think why the hell Tommy Shelby was walking beside him. Did he miss something? There was the icky feeling again. He knew he was missing something, but he couldn’t tell what it was. The burning feeling had settled again, which he was glad for.

Edgar had always liked the book shop. It smelled nice, and he believed that it was impossible to meet a grumpy person there. “Oh, Edgar! How nice to see you! And with a companion, I see.” Simon, the owner of said shop, smiled at them brightly. “Hello, Simon.” “Are you here for your brother?” “Of course I am.” “Great, because I just finished a book I think your brother will like! Well, maybe not like, it’s quiet queer, but I’m sure he will enjoy it, at least!” And with that, the man was already on his way to pick the book up and handed it over to Edgar. “The Metamorphosis?” “Oh yes, as I said, it is quiet strange, but this is kind of the appeal of it.” “If you say so, I trust your judgement. Nobody thought he would enjoy poetry either, and well.” Simon laughed. “Well then.” He named the price and Edgar just wanted to reach into his trousers when the money was already on the counter. “Keep the rest.”

Both Edgar and Simon looked baffled at Tommy who just lit himself another cigarette. “Have you lost your mind?”, Edgar asked him, slightly offended. “Why?” “How… How dare you just do that? I didn’t ask you!” “It’s a gift. You don’t ask for gifts, it’s quiet rude.” “Your audacity is rude! Stupid fucker…”

Simon snorted, trying to hold back a laughter. Edgar rolled his eyes. “Thank you, Simon, have a nice day. And you, you will pay for this.” “I already did.” “You…!” He gave up and simply left. Of course Tommy followed him. “Why are you mad at me?” “Because I don’t want you to just pay for me when I don’t need it.” “You need the money more than me.” “And? I can pay for it on my own. I don’t need you for that.” “I know. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”
Edgar stopped in his tracks. He apologised, didn’t he?

Sweet mother of god, somebody have mercy with him.

He walked home, and Tommy was still beside him, but when they reached the front door of his flat, the man suddenly cleared his throat. “I think we’ll part ways now. I still have something to do.” Edgar nodded. “Okay. Then, good bye. And thank you. For the books.” “My pleasure. I hope I’ll see you soon.” “Just don’t show up unannounced, that would be nice.” “Of course. Good bye.”

I hope I’ll see you soon.

What a strange thing to say.
Edgar let out a long deep sigh. The Shelbys caused him more stress than he thought he could handle right now.
He had just entered the flat with a “I’m home”, when his brother was already staring at him. “Who was the man at the door?”

He didn’t get a break today, did he?

Chapter 6: Nightly visitors

Summary:

Edgar has troubles sleeping, but he'll get over it eventually. John comes to visit him for advice. He and his get along better than he thought

Notes:

It's me again :D
Oh boy, am I out of place. In general. The fic has nothing to do with this.
Thanks everybody for commets and kudos, you are incredible. Every each one of you. You make me happy and keep me motivated.
Sorry for any typos, I'll come back for it later! I guess.
Have fun !

“Nobody important.” “Mhm, sure. You know how you always rat yourself out, Edgar? When you told me about John, you didn’t make any fuss, and now that I ask you who this man was, that I clearly heard talking to you, it’s just “Nobody important”. That makes you come across as suspicious immediately.” “I didn’t make a fuss because I was drunk!” “There! Avoiding the topic!”

Edgar rolled his eyes. He loved his little brother, deeply and dearly. However, sometimes he wished he would ask him a question less and just shut up. He knew he would never actually ask him to. Except when he complained on end, but they had talked about that. Sometimes you need to remind the other that they need to speak less, or in his case more.

Instead of starting a fight, he tossed the book on the table. “There. It’s a gift.” Alan frowned. “Why out of a sudden?” “Tommy paid for it. He was at the door.” “Tommy?” “Yes. Tommy Shelby.”

His brother looked at the book, then back at him. “What the fuck are you doing?” “I don’t know.” “What do they even want from you? Isn’t Tommy Shelby the leader of the whole Shelby-thing?” “He is.” “Then why are you getting so involved with them? You’re a criminal now?” “And if I told you I don’t know! I’m trying not to, but he wouldn’t leave me alone!” Edgar had raised his voice more than he would have liked it to be, and immediately looked down in shame. “Sorry.” “Don’t apologise, I can take a little yelling. I’m just worried.”

He was silent when he set the kettle on the stove. “I don’t know, really. Today, he came to the graveyard and started asking me all those questions, and I got to ask him questions in return too. It was so personal, and… god, I know that this man hears shovels.” “What?” “He was a tunneller in France. He still hears the shovels.”
Alan raised his eyebrows. “He told you? Just like that?” “He did. And I don’t know what to think about it.” Edgar sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was all giving him a headache. “He wants to meet you too. He wants to come over here and… I don’t know what else, but he kind of insisted on it. And when I went to book shop, he paid, without the blink of an eye. He just did, like it was nothing.” Alan snorted. “Okay, Edgar.” “I don’t know what he wants from me, it’s like he’s haunting me since I refused his money.” “Maybe you accidentally put a spell on him.”

Edgar searched for a mug. “Stop being ridiculous, Alan.” “Oh, I’m not, but believe what you want.” “If anybody is under a spell, it’s me”, Edgar muttered, thinking of the dream and every waking moment he thought about Tommy Shelby’s eyes. Or his smile.

Alan shook his head. “I swear to god, one of these days, I’ll have to chase them away from you with a stick. I would prefer a gun, but oh well, the things I do for you.” “Maybe it’s not that bad. At least I have a friend now.” “I was not talking about that.” “Then what are you talking about?” “Nothing important. Invite him. I want to meet him too.”

 

Edgar didn’t sleep that night. No matter how much he tossed and turned, he felt too fidgety to go to sleep. He tried to contract and relax his muscles, he kicked his blanket off the bed and searched for it a few minutes later, because no matter how hot it was he couldn’t sleep without a blanket.
Sometimes he envied Alan, who could fall asleep in pretty much any environment as long as he was tired enough. Edgar didn’t have that luxury. He needed to sleep in a dark room, in a lying position, without much noise. It was way worse when he was a child, but he got used to the rambling on the streets, Alan’s snoring and occasional talking in his sleep.

Edgar’s thoughts circled back to the conversation he had today. Looking back at it, he had been severely overwhelmed, which was probably the reason why he had felt about it the way he had. Now, it still scared him, but it could have been worse. After all, it was not like Tommy had proposed to him or anything. No, he just wanted to meet his brother.

He was worried about that too. Not inherently about if Alan would tell them all the things he wouldn’t or even if they would like each other, but more if they would understand. Alan’s disability was a tricky thing, because technically, he could walk, so most people didn’t have much sympathy if all of a sudden he couldn’t. They didn’t understand that he was not overreacting or faking it, or that he couldn’t just forget the pain and push through, he simply couldn’t, no matter how much he wanted. It wasn’t as bad right now, when it was getting warmer every day, but the colder it became, the worse was the pain in his joints. Completely letting out the headaches and backpain he suffered from because of his malformed spine.

He just hoped they wouldn’t be as ignorant. Even if experience had proven them wrong many times, because you never know what idiot you might come across, there were nice people. John had suggested to be his friend, hadn’t he? Edgar still couldn’t quite grasp it, but maybe there was something likeable about him. He would at least try to be a good friend.

And Tommy? Well, Tommy was a little different, wasn’t he? What made him come to the graveyard today, even if he didn’t like the shovel? What made him pay for the book? Edgar didn’t know. Alan seemed to have a better idea when it came to that.
It was late at night when he finally fell asleep, exhausted and with the uneasy feeling that he couldn’t hide away from the world anymore. That there were other people.

 

The next few days went by quietly. Alan complained about his back hurting more than usual, as well as his head. Edgar went to work, picked up some painkillers, came home and read the new book to him. Simon was right, it was a strange book that he wasn’t sure he should take seriously, but Alan and him had a good time. The routine almost made him forget the whole trouble that cost him more of his sleep then he’d like to admit.
Until around one week later, somebody knocked on his door.

Alan had fallen asleep on the small couch they had in their living room/kitchen for exactly that purpose, and Edgar was cooking soup for dinner, because his absolutely not dramatic brother wouldn’t eat anything else when he was “Dying, Edgar. I’m dying”.

With a sigh, he set down the spoon and grabbed the key from the shelf. Now, he could imagine a number of scenarios about what was going to happen now. One, one of the Shelby’s was at his door and this would end in either a delightful evening or an actual nightmare. Two, it was their downstairs neighbour Miss Pearson who was either here to save him or send him to hell. Three, the coppers were here to arrest him for covering up the horrible crime of burying guns (Where was Danny? He had no idea!). While the last scenario was unlikely (he hoped), there was very little at this point that Edgar deemed impossible.
Maybe his father has risen from the dead and came back to haunt him once again.

When he opened the door, it was John.
Just John.

Edgar didn’t need to ask to know that he was upset. Still, John grinned at him. “Sorry for coming around unannounced.” “It’s fine. Come in.” He made a gesture to invite him inside, and returned back to the stove. John chuckled. “You cook?” “Of course I do. You don’t?” “Nah. I don’t step a foot into the kitchen.” “You sound way too proud for someone who can’t feed himself.” John laughed. “Fair enough.” Deciding that he could in fact leave the soup alone for some time, he turned around to properly talk. “So, what brought you here?” “Don’t know. Just wanted to visit you.” “Are you sure?”

After what seemed like a pause of indecisiveness, John sighed. “You know I told you about Lizzie, right?” “Right.” “We don’t see each other anymore.” Edgar frowned. “And why that?” “Well, I told my family about it, and they all just laughed at me. But then Tommy told me that she didn’t stop. You know, with the whole prostitution thing.” “And how does he know?” The silence was answer enough.
How could you do something like this to your brother?

“He didn’t even really fuck her. At least he said that. But she would have done it. And now I…” He let out a little laugh. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this, but both my brothers probably think I’m stupid that I expected otherwise, and you… You were so nice about it. I didn’t know where else to go.” “Don’t apologise”, Edgar stopped him. “It’s okay. You needed someone to talk to, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s okay for you to be upset. You loved her, and she broke your trust. I also think that it’s not easy for her. She is known as a prostitute, after all. Once you are known for that, people don’t leave you alone. It's your decision if you can forgive her or not.” “I’m not sure.” “Then think about it. Don’t have to make it now.”

John nodded slowly. “Thanks, Edgar.” “It’s okay. If you need to talk, I’m here.” The Shelby’s eyes now wandered over to the couch. “Is that your brother?” He smiled a little. “Yes, that’s Alan.” “Huh. If it weren’t for the scar, your face would almost be handsome.” Edgar laughed. “Don’t tell me, I hear that every time Miss Pearson talks to me. “Could have been such a handsome man if it weren’t for that nasty scar”.” “Don’t be sad, I still think the rest of you is handsome.” “Sure, John. You can dream about that later.” Alan muttered something in his sleep and turned around. “Won’t we wake him up?” “Alan? No. And even if, he had to anyways. Dinner is almost ready. Would you like something to drink, maybe? And before you ask, I don’t keep alcohol in the house.” He was definitely a horrible host.

John snickered. “Why not? You’re some fucking saint or what?” “I just don’t like it.” “Then tea, if it’s not an inconvenience.” “Of course it’s not.”

There came a long sigh from the couch and some high pitched noises after that. John scrunched up his face. “What the…?” Edgar shrugged. He was used to Alan’s weird waking-up noises after all. He knew his brother hated it when he said that, but he thought they were cute. Next came a yawn. “Edgar?” “I’m here.”
Alan sat up at the couch, but froze immediately when he spotted John. “And who the fuck are you?” “John.” “Ah, yes. Infamous John.” He rubbed his eyes and then stretched out his arms. “Is your headache better?”, Edgar asked. “A little. Still want to throw myself off the roof.” “Don’t be so dramatic.” “I’m not.” Alan now seated himself so he could lean against the wall. “You staying for dinner?”, he asked John. “Uh… Sure, I guess.” “Then I stay here.”

Edgar grabbed the plates and set them down on the table, when John suddenly commented: “You don’t seem disabled.”
He wanted to say something, when Alan let out a huff: “What the fuck does that mean now?” “I just expected something else…” “Doesn’t fucking matter. You don’t look stupid either, do you?” “Excuse me?” “Yeah? I am physically disabled, not mentally, right? So fuck off.” John looked down at his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t want to be rude. I guess I just wanted to ask how you are disabled.”

Alan’s face became a little softer when he started to explain: “It’s my legs. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don’t. Has a lot to do with how much I move around, but sometimes they just… don’t. Even if they do at other times.” John nodded. “And how does that effect you?” Alan raised his eyebrows. Edgar was a lot more relaxed than before, because John asked questions. Even if he phrased it horribly at first. “Well, usually I’m fine moving around the house. Sometimes not even that works, then Edgar needs to help me. When I need to go somewhere else, for example I almost always need help. Even if it’s just for the way home. The main reason I can’t live alone is that I can’t take on a job, I think. And I don’t like to be alone.”

John nodded. “I think I get it. Sorry again.” Alan smiled. “Maybe you’re not stupid. I heard worse things before.” Edgar gave him the bowl of soup and they started eating. The mood became a bit more light-hearted after that, and Edgar could observe his brother and John engaging in an intense conversation about the importance of reading, after the Shelby had made a remark about the little tower of books next to the couch. There was something in the way Alan and John looked at each other that made him think that maybe the heartbreak wasn’t as bad anymore. Maybe he was just imagining it. But then again, they seemed to only have eyes for each other. Edgar was fine with that. Even if he was worried about how this could all turn out horrible in so many ways, he supposed there were worse people than John. And if it was all just a crush that would be over as soon as it came, there was nothing wrong about that either.

So he did the dishes while the two cracked up about one thing after the other. It was good.

“Fuck, my stomach hurts”, John sighed after some while. “Edgar really needs to bring you to the Garrison more often.” “I would love to! Heard that Edgar!” “I heard everything clearly.”
Then there was another knock at the door.
“Who’s that now?”

Edgar could only guess when he went and opened the door.
Turned out he was right.

“Tommy.” “Is John here?” He nodded. “He is.” “Can I come in then?” Edgar hummed and simply let him through. “Finally I found you. Polly is worried about you”, he threw the accusation at John. “I’m fine, am I not?” “And who the fuck are you now?”
Alan blinked confused.
Edgar wanted nothing more than to disappear into the ground. Forever, preferably.
“Tommy Shelby.”

Well, wasn’t this going to be fun?

Notes:

End notes!
And instead of making cuts after a time skip like a normal person, I cut in the middle of the scene like a complete psychopath ^^
I decided while Edgar and Tommy get their Hurt/Comfort Slowburn with a sprinkle of all their mental health issues (there is a lot to uncover), John and Alan are going to fall in love in superspeed fashion, because I need to prevent John from marrying Esme. I'm sorry, I do like her (at least from the very little I have seen of her), but I don't want them to have an affair. So, there's that. Until the next chapter! ^^

Chapter 7: Murder caps, kids, and Birmingham's greatest whore

Summary:

Edgar, Alan, Tommy and John have a little chit-chat.

Notes:

17k words I am so. done.
I'm back with a new, rather shallow chapter, but that's okay we need that too. There's a little bit of everything in here, I think. A little bit of family drama, a little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff and lots of John and Alan having the best time with each other.
Thank you everyone for kudos and comments, I treasure every one of them. You people make me so happy.
Please excuse any typos or weird phrasing, I may come back later to edit this.
Have fun with this chapter ^^

Alan looked the man up and down. “Mhm”, he hummed, while he gave Edgar a look he knew to decode as “Well, he’s handsome”. He stared back at him trying to get him to shut. Thank god, his brother got the message and didn’t say anything. “Unfortunately, you’re late for dinner, but I’m sure Edgar will make you some tea too.”
Tommy frowned at his brother. “I’m not staying. John and I are going home.” “I’m not going anywhere”, he muttered. “I already said I’m fine, thank you.” “John.” “Stop sulking, Tommy-boy, and sit down”, Alan interrupted them and nodded towards the chair. “Come on, you sit with me.” John smiled and sat next to him without hesitation. There was still some distance between them, but they were way closer than before.

John surely moved on quickly.

Tommy just stood there for a moment, and then looked in Edgar’s direction. “I see he’s just as unapologetically upfront as you are.” He laughed. “You think so? Oh, no. Alan is way worse.”

His brother snorted and then snatched John’s cap away. “What’s the deal with these, anyways?” He put it on his head with a wide grin. “I kind of like it. Does everybody in your family have one?” “It’s a Blinder-thing”, John explained, while Alan took on examining the cap closer. “That’s funny. Imagine we did that.” Edgar laughed. “For the love of god, I’m not wearing a beret.” “What? That’s not a beret. If you want to insult it, all least call it the right thing.” “I don’t care. Every hat that looks dumb is a beret.” “You think it looks dumb?”, Tommy asked him. Edgar shrugged. “A little.”

Alan’s eyes became wider. “Oh my… Are these razors? Fucking hell….” He started laughing, and John laughed with him. Tommy observed them quietly, and Edgar wondered if he saw it too. “They are murder caps, Edgar! Every time somebody annoys you, you just…” He made a slashing motion with the cap. “Well, now we know the reason why you don’t have one.” “You seriously like them?”, John asked with a chuckle. “Are you kidding me, these are so awesome. Bloody fuck. Do I have to give it back?” “If you don’t become a Peaky Blinder on the spot, then yes.” Alan made a small disappointed noise before he handed John his cap back.

“Why did you even come here?”, Tommy asked his brother. Immediately, the smile fell. “I just wanted to talk, that’s all. Why did you come here?” “I already said, I was looking for you.” “So you came to him? Of all places you could have looked for me, you came here?” “I did find you here, so it isn’t all that far off, is it?”

Alan snorted, holding back a laughter while Edgar shook his head at the family-drama unfolding in front of them. He couldn’t blame them, exactly, it wasn’t like his brother and he didn’t fight. Oh no, they argued a lot, actually. However, it still made him a little uncomfortable. Again, there was something left unsaid, something that Tommy and John seemed to have a mutual understanding of, and the way Alan had watched them, he might at least suspect something. So Edgar was the only one who didn’t have a clue? Great. He loved to know nothing about what was going on around him.

“You’re a mess. Both of you.” Alan took a sip from his tea, while both Shelby brothers now turned their attention towards him. “See, I get it, okay, brothers can be a right bitch sometimes, look at what I have to deal with! Peace of work”, he gestured towards Edgar, who simply snorted. Yeah, right. “And you can go on and be bitter to each other and say things that have no actual meaning under the surface, because admitting that you were hurt sucks, right? Maybe I’m too used to how it works for us, but people I tell you, we have to learn how to talk to each other, or one day you will jump at each other’s throat in a way that you can’t apologise for. My father did that, yeah, and he went missing ten years ago. Haven’t seen him since. Don’t miss him. If he ever comes back, I’ll kill him. Circling back to whatever issue you have, means that not even family will be loyal to you for the worst things you do. Just say sorry for whatever you did, or go on the street and kill each other, but don’t sit here leaving everything unsaid that would actually put things into perspective for everyone involved.”

Edgar chuckled. “Nothing you said right now made any sense.” “It does, I just stripped it from every context there could be. I know people don’t like to talk, and maybe it only works for us that way, but it kept us both from running wild so it can’t be that bad.”
John drank his tea in one go. “I just wished you would have done this any other way. Or let me be happy. Have a little faith in me.”

Tommy looked at his brother for a long moment before he answered him. “I know you liked her, John, but she’s not the right girl for you. You will find another one. One that actually loves you and takes care of your kids. I have faith in you.” “You got kids?”, Alan asked the younger Shelby. John smiled. “Four of them.” “You’ve four kids?”

Edgar’s voice became louder than he had wanted it to be. “How old are you?” “24”, John admitted with a nervous laugh. “See! And you went to war, right? In 1914?” “…Yes.” “Jesus Christ”, Edgar sighed when he had the same realisation his brother has had. “Assuming your wife didn’t cheat on you, which we will, because we are nice, means that you had four kids before you were 19!” “It just happened, alright!”
Edgar laughed. “Can I just say I’m so glad that you can’t just get up and sleep through Birmingham? I really am.” Alan grinned from one ear to another. “You would never hear the end of it! I would without doubt be Birmingham’s greatest whore!” John broke out in a fit of laughter next to him, that Alan joined as soon as he had finished his sentence, clinging onto each other as if they would drown otherwise.

Tommy slightly raised his eyebrows at them. Edgar simply shrugged. “Don’t ask me. They’ve been doing that since they started talking to each other. Like they never met someone as hilarious as the other.” “Best if we don’t question it.” “Believe me, I don’t.”

There was a peaceful silence, with both John and Alan trying to catch their breath, and Edgar and Tommy sitting at the table drinking tea. It made him feel all warm and cozy, an almost ticklish feeling. He was glad to see his brother laugh so much, and he was even content with Tommy being here. Even if he showed up unannounced. So did John, but that was different. He had needed someone to talk to.

His brother leaned against the younger Shelby. “Fuck, my head….” “Are you okay?” “I feel so dizzy. It feels like… like my head is too small for my brain.” Edgar smiled softly. “Maybe that was a bit too much, hm? How about we get you to bed?” “I need to brush my teeth first.” “Yes, that too.” With that, Alan peeled himself away from John, who had at some point wrapped his arms around him, and stumbled into the bath.

Tommy looked after him. “What is wrong with his legs?” “Is that all you’re concerned about?” “I’m concerned about whether you lied to me or not.” He sounded so cold that it instantly reminded Edgar who he was talking to. Aside from why somebody would lie about something like that, even if he would have, could he blame him? “It’s difficult to explain. His legs do work, technically, but more often than that, they don’t. Most important thing is, he can’t take on a job. His body can’t take it. Even moving around the flat is difficult sometimes. He may not show it, but he has been in a lot of pain these last days. He still is.”
Edgar was tired of having to explain everything he and his brother did when they met new people. Not that it happened often. However, on the rare occasion it did happen, he knew exactly why he didn’t like it.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t build relationships without going through that phase. This was something Edgar had to, very begrudgingly, accept at some point.
He didn’t hate people. He hated having to start all over again once they were gone. Once they realised how fucked in the head he was, when they got tired of having to remind him that they didn’t hate him. And while on one hand Edgar understood that nobody wanted to but up with it, and that there were easier people to love out there, he also didn’t want to be the second choice.

After all, he had promised himself that he would never play the other woman again.

“Edgar?” The voice snapped him out of his train of thought and John smirked at him. “Got a little lost there?” “I guess, it’s all good. I’m just worried.” “About what?” “Alan. I know it will get better, it always does, but… what if one day, it won’t, you know? If he doesn’t get better one day, I…” He wouldn’t be able to fix this. He would have to sit and watch his brother become a shadow of himself until he would let go. Done. Over. And Edgar couldn’t stop it.

Nobody cared how much you love someone, they would still take them away from you. You could put your heart and soul and body into taking care for them, sit by their bedside, bring them medicine and soup and hold their hand and whisper that everything would be alright, you couldn’t protect them from death. He had tried, he had tried so fucking hard to keep her alive, he couldn’t fail Alan like this…

A sudden hand on his shoulder ripped him away from the gruesome images running up and down in his head, the lump in his throat that wanted to suffocate him vanished. Edgar tried to hold back tears, not wanting to embarrass himself, when Tommy Shelby looked at him with soft eyes. “He’ll be alright, Edgar. Don’t worry. The pain will fade, he’ll get better this time and every time after that.”

Edgar nodded. “Sorry for that.” “You’re good, don’t worry”, John muttered. “If one of my brothers stopped walking tomorrow, I don’t know what I would do.” “You would probably be surprised by the things you are suddenly willing to do for them. Just so they have it s little better.” Tommy’s hand lingered, as if he not quite wanted to let go of him. His face became hotter, but in a good way. In a way Edgar hadn’t felt for years.

As if. As if it could be that.

Why didn’t he let go?

Alan came back from the bathroom. “I think I’m really going to bed. Good night everybody.” He waved a little at them. “Night, Alan.” “And you, you show your ass around here more often, yeah? Would be really unfortunate if I had to play damsel in distress just so you pay attention to me”, he nodded towards John. “Promise.” “Good.” “I think we should get going too”, Tommy voiced, his hand finally letting go of Edgar. “It’s late. Polly’s still waiting for us.” “Yeah, sure.”

Edgar lied awake that night again. He thought about the hand on his shoulder, Tommy’s eyes and how his face had heated up at the touch.
He had touched him.
It made him inappropriately excited.

Tommy was a handsome man, Edgar was not stupid after all. Stubborn, maybe, but not stupid. And a little attraction didn’t hurt, after all. He could be attracted to someone. Even if it probably wasn’t a good idea, he could let himself enjoy this. Edgar didn’t have to act on it, after all. He wouldn’t, of course. Aside from the fact that Tommy Shelby would probably kill him for looking at him the wrong way, he could save himself the humiliation at having his feelings used against him.
No, no feelings. Just attraction. He could find someone attractive without wanting anything from them.
Maybe he had just been too lonely for too long. Yes, that was probably it.

It would be his secret. And when he died, he would take it to his grave. And nobody else would ever know that Edgar Murphy had at some point thought that Thomas Shelby was an attractive man.

Notes:

Edgar: almost having a breakdown
Tommy, totally not using it as an excuse to touch him: I don't know how to comfort anyone, but I try.
John: *don't mind me, I'm just vibing*

Edgar, later that night: Okay, maybe I find him a little sexy, but oH wEll

Chapter 8: Asking for advice

Summary:

Finn spills some family drama to Edgar. John is there again. Tommy wants to talk to him. Edgar is tired.

Notes:

I'm back with a longer chapter!
Short disclaimer, I started school again this week and although I hope I will be able to keep updating, don't be surprised if the schedule changes from once every week to once every two/three weeks, depending on how much time I have.
Thanks everybody for your comments and kudos. I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

On the contrary to his sensitive character, how Alan liked to say it, Edgar looked quite rough on the outside. He was taller than the average man, with broad shoulders and calloused hands that came with his work. He wasn’t particularly ugly, he thought. Edgar still hated the way he looked like, because it reminded him so much of his father.

Like father, like son. If it weren’t for the right side of his face. When he laid his fingers on his cheek, it felt like the ghost of an actual touch. The skin was thicker and a little bumpy. It didn’t hurt anymore, but the touch still made him feel uneasy.

He remembered what it was like when the bandages first came off. Edgar had stood in front of the mirror, unable to cry or say anything. It had terrified him, because he knew that the person he was seeing was supposed to be him, but no matter how hard he had tried, he hadn’t recognised himself. The person standing there was not him. It was a scared little boy with a scar on his face that made him look like a monster.
Now, fifteen years later, when he stared into the mirror and his mirror-self stared back, he still felt that way. It made his father in his face unrecognisable, which he was glad for. Sometimes he wished not everybody could see it.

It shouldn’t be a concern of his, but even Edgar wanted to look pretty. Or handsome, which was probably more fitting, both for a man and a man his body type. And if it was just to please the eye. He didn’t have to look angelic, by any means, maybe just a little bit more normal.
The unfamiliar feeling of anger spread in his veins. He couldn’t change the way he looked. It shouldn’t matter, not to him and not to anyone else. Love doesn’t come from someone being pretty.

But doesn’t it help? If Edgar didn’t have his looks or enough good qualities to outweigh his nightly and daily panic attacks or insecurity or clinginess or fear of attachment (How he had both? God, if he would know), then why would anybody want to love him?
And it was all Tommy Shelby’s fault. Well, not his problems, obviously, but that they all resurfaced now after he was so content with them being buried and not his concern for years after his ex-boyfriend left. If there was no romance, he didn’t have to think about how he could work it out.
Not that there was anything to work out now.

He really should stop thinking about it.

 

Edgar dug another grave, and attended another funeral this day. It wasn’t as depressing as watching a mother crying over her dead child, that was certain. The man was well into his fifties and must have had a great sense of humour, if the stories his family told, in tears, but with a smile on their faces, where anything to go by. It was always then when Edgar thought about how he would be remembered. If he was remembered, that was. He would certainly hope so, and if it just meant that Alan would outlive him.

After the service was finished and he had closed up the grave, he made his way home. This time he was left unbothered, and he dreaded it just a little.
Then again, if there was one thing he could count on, it was that the Shelbys wouldn’t leave him alone. Not just now. “Edgar!” “Jesus fucking Christ!” Finn basically jumped him from around the corner, which almost caused him to drop dead right then and there. What was it with Shelbys and having to appear out of thin air? He got it with Tommy, that man had something haunting about him, but Finn? Oh well. “Hello, Finn.” “How are you?” “I’m good, thank you. And you?” “Oh, I’m really happy! Tommy allowed me to spend time with you, when I don’t annoy you.” “He did?” “Oh yeah. He said you’re safe. Aunt Polly and him fought over it yesterday, but John also said that there’s nothing to worry about. I think she wants to meet you now.” “Alright.”

He had seen Polly Gray a number of times at the market, and he was not afraid to confess that this woman intimidated him. There was something about her that gave him the feeling he was better off not messing with her.
Then again, he would have been better off not messing with the Shelby-business to begin with. All because he was too curious for his own good.
Some day it’ll be the end of him, he felt it in his guts.

“What are you doing?” “I’m on my way home.” “To your brother?” “Yes, to my brother.” “Can I meet him too? Then Arthur and Aunt Polly will be even more annoyed than before.” “What are they annoyed about?” Finn giggled. “Because everybody gets to meet you and Alan except them. And my sister, but she’s not really at home anymore, so…” Edgar raised his eyebrows. “Are Arthur and Polly really so concerned about it?” “Aunt Polly is, Arthur is just annoyed. Tommy talks a lot about you.” “He does?” “Yeah. Well, he doesn’t talk about personal stuff, but he mentions you almost every day. That’s a lot for him.” Edgar didn’t know how to process that information exactly. He knew Tommy probably wouldn’t be very delighted if he knew that his little brother was walking around to tell people his brother frequently talked about a man. What a way to put it.

There was a nervous fluttering rummaging around in his stomach. Again he asked himself the question what in fucking hell Tommy wanted from him.
“You can, if you want to. Alan might still be in pain, so I don’t know how nice the first impression might be, but it was the same yesterday and he was pretty talkative back then.” “John likes him a lot, I think. They fought about that yesterday too. Tommy said he is a lovesick fool, and John called him a hypocrite. It was a little funny.” “You think it’s funny when your brothers fight?” “No, but Aunt Polly was so exhausted she yelled at both of them in the end, and then sent them to bed. That was a little funny. But please don’t tell them I told you, I listened at the door.” Edgar smiled. “I promise I won’t.”

So Finn walked home with him, and told him all kinds of wild things, like that he recently almost got blown up because somebody put a hand grenade in Tommy’s car after they had started war with some other family that Tommy was currently trying to navigate. It all made him question his building relationship with the gangster family even more. Who in their right mind put a hand grenade in someone’s car? And Finn told him about it like that happened every Tuesday.
Maybe he was wrong. Maybe that would be the end of him.

When they entered the building and went up the stairs, Edgar’s usual restlessness had settled. He liked having Finn around. It made him happy to see a child just getting to be a child. Edgar never got to have that. He had to take care, after all.

Edgar liked not having to have heavy conversation, just careless thoughts and silly charades. Where Finn liked to dream to be an adult and have power like his brothers, he would nearly give anything to have the chance to be a child for once. God knew he tried to do that for his brother.
They were almost at his flat when the loud voice of a women made him turn around. “There you are! All week I have been trying to catch you, but no! As rarely as you show your face around here I thought you’re finally dead!”

Edgar let out a small sigh. “Hello, Miss Pearson.” “You wait here, I have something for you.” And with that, she turned around and went back into her apartment. Finn looked at him with wide eyes. “Who is that?” “My neighbour, Miss Pearson. I know she is scary, but don’t worry. She doesn’t mean any harm, and she has been kind to me and Alan.” She was the first woman Edgar had ever met that had proudly declared herself a witch the first time she met him, going on about husbands (despite the fact she never had one), the weather and her back. However, she was the one making all kinds of ointments for Alan and sometimes him, gifted Edgar three of her cookbooks and taught him all kinds of knowledge about plants and herbs and baking. Sometimes he really believed she was some kind of witch.

He returned to the bottom of the stairs just in time for her to come back and give him a small jar. “Try it for headaches. Has done wonders for me. Where did you get the kid from?” She nodded to Finn, who shyly looked down to them. “Just a friend”, Edgar answered. “Mhm. And the men who were here yesterday were also just friends? I heard you laughing all night.” “Apologies, Miss, we had guests over today.” “Of course. You seem like someone who has gentlemen-visitors.”

Edgar was caught off-guard by her remark. “Excuse me?” “Oh, don’t play dumb with me. It’s a waste, if you ask me. You have one decent man, and he’ll waste it on another man. Terrible, that is. Tragic. Now, go on, and take the kid with you.” With that, the door was closed in front of his nose before he could even think of a response.

Miss Pearson wouldn’t report him to the coppers, would she?
No, not her.

“Well, you heard her. Go on.” He shooed Finn up the stairs and grabbed the key from his pocket. “What was she talking about?”, the boy asked him, his face scrunched up in confusion. “Don’t worry about it. She is… Well, unhinged, you could say. But she knows a lot more than we do, that is sure. I’m home!”
He was startled by an awfully flushed looking John. “Oh. Again?” “Sorry, I was just coming by, I…” “Don’t fucking lie, you’ve excused yourself for the betting shop roughly three hours ago just to spend time with me”, Alan interrupted him before he could try to explain himself. In that moment, Finn decided to disclose himself. “John?” “Finn? What are you doing here?” “…Just coming by.”

Alan frowned. “And who are you? What is the kid doing here, Edgar?” “What is John doing here?” “Oh hush, you’re just jealous. Johnny-boy missed me already, so he came by and we talked, thank you. Back to my question.”
He sighed and shook his head. John looked like he had been caught kissing a girl for the first time. Or a boy, for that matter. Was he worried? A little. Where was the guarantee that John wouldn’t move on as quickly from his brother as he did from Lizzie? There wasn’t one. On the other hand, that was kind of Alan’s problem then. He may want to protect his brother from heartbreak, but he reminded himself that he didn’t want to interfere for a reason, that reason being Alan’s right to live his life as independently as possible. And if he did get his heart broken, Edgar would be there for him.

“Alan, this is Finn. He’s the youngest of the Shelbys. He wanted to meet you before his aunt and Arthur.” John chuckled. “Arthur will definitely lose it over that.” Finn came nearer. “Hi.” Alan smiled and waved. “Hey. Nice to make your acquaintance, Finn. I’m Alan.” After a moment of silence, he mused thoughtfully: “You’re really pretty”.

Alan raised his eyebrows and laughed, while John scolded his little brother: “You don’t go around telling people they’re pretty, Finn. Especially not men.” “But yesterday you said…” “Doesn’t matter, okay? You don’t do that.” “What did you say yesterday?”, Alan asked curiously. John’s cheeks reddened. “Nothing important.” “What’s with you people and the ‘nothing important’?”, he shook his head in disapproval, but didn’t press any further.

“How was work?”, he decided to ask Edgar instead. “Good. Was one of the most cheerful funerals I ever had.” “Cheerful?” “As cheerful as it can get. They told a lot of stories. That man had quite the life, I tell you.” Alan snickered. “When I make a speech at your funeral, I will shame your name in every way possible. I will tell them all the things that will make you turn around in that bloody coffin.” Edgar laughed about the obscurity. That was definitely not something he expected to hear today. “So bitter about my death already?” “Of course. I will bawl my fucking eyes out.” “Not if you die first.” “Fuck off, as if!”

John bounced his leg in a way that Edgar could only imagine was uncomfortable, so in an effort to get him to relax, he decided to change the subject. Even if the question wasn’t really relaxing. “What did you start war over?”

The Shelby furrowed his eyebrows. “What?” “Finn said you were at war with a family. I wanted to know why, if that’s not inappropriate.” He shrugged. “I guess not. One of them insulted our mother, so we cut them.” “With the caps?”, Alan asked with a definitely inappropriate amount of excitement in his voice. John chuckled. “I still find it strange that you like them so much.” “Under all that pretty, there is only pure evil. Did you tell John what you always wanted to do?” “What I… Oh, yes! You know what I always wanted to do, John? I always wanted to blow something up. Or set something on fire, but it has to be something big. And afterwards I just want to stand there and watch it burn.”

Edgar only smiled softly, already accustomed to Alan’s destructive tendencies. John’s eyes had become wider with every word of the confession.
They would regret underestimating his baby brother.
“You what?” “Okay, listen, I know it sounds bad, but I just really want to do it, right? I think it would… look and feel amazing. Like seeing the world go down around you, but at least you’re alive, you know?” “You’re an absolute maniac.” “I know.”

 

Getting involved with the Shelbys was strangely nice. At least his brother seemed to have a good time. They spend the rest of the afternoon together, chatting about god knows what. Finn showed a surprising interest in Alan’s books, and his brother was of course more than happy to tell him a little bit about every one of them. Edgar was still sceptical about the sudden happiness in his life. It didn’t last, it never did. So when was this going to be ripped away from them?

John had taken Finn home hours ago and Alan had gone to bed sometime after. He didn’t want to admit it, but Edgar knew it exhausted him. He had wanted to do some housework before going to bed, when somebody knocked on the door.

He sighed and grabbed the keys from the counter. He was tired, and wanted to go to bed. Maybe it was an emergency. When he opened the door, Tommy Shelby stood there. “I need to talk to you.”

Edgar looked him up and down, then he sighed. Who was he lying to, he wasn’t going to send him away. “Come in.”

Tommy sat down at the table with him and waited for him to explain why he was here, but the Shelby didn’t seem to be in a rush. Instead he studied him closely, while he pulled out a cigarette. “Please not in here”, Edgar interrupted him. “I… I don’t like the smell.” Slowly, Tommy put the cigarettes back in his pocket. “You’re quite fussy.” He snorted. “Yeah, go complain about it, when you are the one that comes in here at elven p.m. demanding that we need to talk.”
He said nothing for a while, before he finally gave in: “I need your opinion on a matter. Can I trust you?” Edgar raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “Who should I tell? Besides, well, Alan, but… that hardly counts.” “You don’t keep secrets from your brother?”

Of course he did. It would be a lie to say his brother knew everything. It would even be a lie to say he knew almost everything, because the things Alan didn’t know were the ones that put the most weight on his shoulders. “Usually not.” That was only half of the truth, maybe, but he wasn’t going to tell Tommy that.
“I don’t care if he knows. It’s not like he has much of an opportunity to gossip.” “Oh well, if your brother keeps his visits this frequent, he might get them.” “He was here?” Edgar bit his cheek. He had assumed that Tommy had known that already, but apparently, he didn’t. Hopefully he didn’t get John into trouble. “Yes. He came by in the afternoon, before I came home. Finn joined us too, by the way.” “Really?” “Yes.”
Tommy nodded slightly in acknowledgement. “You know that my family is at war?” “I was told so. I hope asking why was not too inappropriate.” “Do you know why?” “I do.”

Tommy shifted on the chair. “Well, I went to the Lees this afternoon, to discuss the matter. They made me an offer, and I hoped you could give me advice on what to do with it.” Edgar chuckled slightly. “I have no idea how your world works, Tommy, I really don’t know if I am the right person to ask for advice.” “Believe me, you are. You have something none of us Shelbys seem to be blessed with.” “And that is?” “The ability and courage to talk about feelings.”

Edgar frowned. “Where did you get that idea?” “Your brother’s little speech. You talk to each other about that, he said so.” “Yes, we talk to each other. That doesn’t mean we’re good at it. And it took a lot of time for us to be where we are today.” “Still better than we’ll probably ever be.” Edgar sighed. “I can be quite emotional, that’s just how it is, but it rarely did me any good.” “See, that is exactly why I wanted to talk to you”, Tommy insisted. “I think I may be too calculating for that matter, and I need someone who is more empathetic. And I believe that’s what you are. You had to be, with your brother.”

The thing was, Tommy was not wrong. Edgar could never understand how people didn’t feel other people’s emotions, or at least have an idea of it, and why they felt this way. It also hurt him a lot growing up, knowing how miserable everybody around him was. In some way, he had to be empathetic. That didn’t mean he thought he was an expert on the matter, or that it was easy to do that.

“So this is emotional baggage.” “It could be, if I don’t handle this right.” Edgar massaged his temples. It was too late, and he was too tired for this. But Tommy needed his help. He must know how fragile he was, so why was he still here? Tommy didn’t seem like someone who kept people around he perceived as weak. In his world, Edgar was weak. So why was he asking him for advice. “Okay, go on. Tell me what’s going on.”

The Shelby’s face relaxed a little bit at that. Did he really think that Edgar was going to throw him out? If so, he was clearly overestimating him.
“So, I went to the Lees, and they made me an offer. They have a girl they want to marry off, she had been running wild a bit lately. She needs a husband. John needs a wife.” Edgar looked at him with disbelieve. “Does John know?” “No.” “So what you are essentially asking me is if it’s okay to marry your brother off to a girl he never met without his consent. Do you hear yourself?” “It would prevent the war from going on. They don’t need to live together happily ever after, it just has to work.” “I am asking you again, do you hear yourself? Is that how little you value relationships?” “John buried his first wife this year, and not a week later he had moved on to Lizzie. Now, if I didn’t think he could manage to be happy, I wouldn’t consider it, but John falls in love easily.” “He does, I see that”, Edgar grumbled. He was a fool to believe that they could be just stupid and in love on their own, no. Now either both John and Alan would be disappointed, or only Alan. He wouldn’t go as far to say heartbroken, but then again, the admiration that John had looked at Alan with, even when he described his pyromaniac fantasies, there was something real behind that. Something he was willing to stand up for.

“How do you mean that?”, Tommy asked him with unmasked curiosity. Edgar shook his head. “You still have doubts about it, don’t you? Tell me, if this is the perfect plan that would end the war, unite your families, John could get married and possibly fall in love with her, why are you here then?” “You are against it.” “Of course I’m against it. I think nothing of arranged marriages. John doesn’t even know you’re planning this.” “And?” “And what?” “There’s something else you won’t tell me.” “Don’t you see it?” “See what?” “That our brothers are madly falling in love every minute they spend in each other’s presence?”

There was a long silence after that. Tommy now looked him directly in the eyes, but Edgar refused to back down. “Is your brother queer, then?” He nodded. “He is.” “And are you?” “Not your business.” “So you are.” “I said it’s not your business.” “Do you think he would forgive me?”

Edgar hesitated before he answered him: “Hard to say. Your family is stupidly loyal to each other, at least it seems that way. The worst thing that could happen is that he either runs away before the wedding or turns his back on you the moment it’s over. Will it damage your relationship? Not inevitably, but likely. Considering you recently broke his trust already, I hardly think it’s worth the risk. Unless you are willing to sacrifice your brother.” “You wouldn’t.” “I could never do that. Alan is everything I have. I would rather sacrifice myself than trapping him in a loveless marriage.” “So you would marry her?”

He was taken aback by the conclusion Tommy made. “I… I don’t think so.” “Why not?” “Because that would be unfair towards her. I couldn’t make her happy.” “Because you are queer. You don’t like women.” Edgar rolled his eyes. “Is that really what you want to hear?” “It’s the truth.” “Go fuck yourself, I’m tired.” “Then I will no longer bother you.” Tommy stood up. “Will you at least consider my point of view? Or talk to John first?”

Again, he fumbled a cigarette out of it’s package. “I will think about it. Good night, Edgar.” And with that, he walked towards the door and left him just as suddenly as he had appeared.
With a long groan, he rested his head on the table. How can someone be so unbearable and desirable at the same time? Why did Tommy ask him for business advice? Why him? Why did he have to deal with this?

Chapter 9: Family dinner

Summary:

Edgar and Alan are invited to family dinner. Edgar is the perfect housewife. Alan gets drunk and says things you definitely shouldn't say at a family dinner.
Maybe there is some hope left.

Notes:

I'm back again, after what is almost a month! I'm so sorry, people. I clearly underestimated how busy I would be.
Anyways, here is a new chapter!
Thank you all for kudos and comments, they mean everything, and keep me motivated! And I got so much nice feedback too.
Now, enjoy this mess :)

Edgar couldn’t even put into words how nervous he was.

It was one thing to become friends with somebody, right? Right.

It was a whole other thing to be introduced to family.

He only ever had to introduce new people to Alan, and that only happened once. Well, four times now, actually, and three of them concentrated on the last, what, two weeks maybe? Has it been two weeks already? Or three? Edgar had totally lost track of time.

He had asked John for advice for meeting the rest of his family. To his displeasure it wasn’t helpful at all, since he had only shrugged and said that Arthur wasn’t all that complicated and that he was sure that they would get along just fine. And Polly, well… If Aunt Polly didn’t like you, there was nothing one could really do.
Edgar wondered if it were the case that Polly didn’t like him, or Alan, if the other Shelbys would listen to her. They had already fought over it, after all. On one hand, it would be understandable. Edgar didn’t grasp the whole family dynamic just yet, but it seemed like Polly had a say in things, and her word counted. On the other hand, he couldn’t imagine that anyone had a say in what Tommy did.

Tommy.

He knew that he was queer now. Even if Edgar had refused to answer him, he knew that Tommy was sure of himself. He felt a little guilty for outing his brother, but he also knew that Alan didn’t have a problem with it.

What would Tommy do with that information now? He could try to blackmail him. Just to make sure he really didn’t run to the police and tell them everything about Tommy’s little affair at the graveyard. What if he used it to make him do things for him? Edgar couldn’t be a Peaky Blinder. He was way too much of a coward for this. He couldn’t even shoot properly, yet alone kill someone.

Edgar sighed. They were invited for dinner today. John had come by in the morning, with that huge smile on his face, and told them that today was finally the day they would all get to know their oldest brother, Arthur, who had apparently refused to just join John, and Polly, who was impatiently waiting to meet the two men that had caused the recent shift in her household.

John came by pretty much everyday now, and if it only was to say hello and ask how they were. And no matter how exhausted Alan was, he always had a smile left for John. Their getting-to-know-each-other had resulted in some touching, all very innocent and brief, but Edgar had caught them more than once. Like that one time when Alan had poked John’s side in an effort to find out if he was ticklish, or when John had held Alan’s hands to keep him from trying to poke him all over. The most obvious by far though was when John had ruffled his hand through his brother’s curls, which had resulted in a very angry Alan who would have kicked John off the couch if he only had a little more strength in his legs. Granted, his brother didn’t like people touching his hair very much.
Well, if they were happy, so was Edgar.

Since John hadn’t talked about his planned wedding, Edgar assumed that Tommy didn’t go through with his original plans, which he was thankful for. After all, some things were meant to be. And others weren’t.
John and Alan certainly seemed like they were meant to be. For how long was another story. Edgar hoped for the best.

“How are you?”, he asked his brother. Alan shrugged. “I think I’m fine. I don’t feel terrible, I don’t have a headache, my back is fine, so are my legs…” “Do you want to go yourself?” Alan bit his cheek, but then shook his head. “Not today. I don’t want to overdo it.” Edgar nodded. “Fine. I’ll carry you there.” “Didn’t John say he wanted to pick us up?” “Why? You want him to carry you?”

Alan laughed. “Oh please, have you looked at John? I bet he can’t even handle as much man as I am.” “You are a stick at best.” “Shut up, your face looks like a dried fruit or something.” “Finn said it looked a little bit like a prune.” “Yes, that, a prune. You look like a prune.” “Charming. Thank you, Alan.” “I just… It would be strange to ask, wouldn’t it?”

Edgar huffed with smile. “You two are unbelievable. When are you getting married?” “As soon as he proposes, I guess. You think he likes me?” “There’s no doubt about that, Alan. John adores you.” “Yeah, well, I know that, but does he like me… enough?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. You’ll get there.” “I hope.” Alan had these dreamy eyes when he talked about things he liked, and now that he was talking about John they were especially dreamy. It was adorable to look at, honestly.

“I do hope that he picks us up, because I have no idea where they live.” “You don’t?” His brother sounded genuinely surprised at that, which Edgar didn’t really understand. “Why would I?” “I don’t know, I just figured you would at least know where Tommy lives.” “Why the hell would I know where Tommy lives?”
Alan raised his eyebrows, but before he could explain his thought-process, there was a knock on the door. “Don’t you have a spare key or something?”, John complained through the door. “I feel like I earned that.” “The door is unlocked”, Edgar only answered with an amused undertone in his voice.

John only looked a little bit embarrassed. “I figured it wouldn’t be, since you always lock it.” “I knew you were coming by, so I left it unlocked. Are we good to go?”, he looked at Alan, who nodded. “I’m ready.” “Good, then. Piggyback?” “Yes, please.” John frowned, but as soon as Edgar picked Alan up, he seemed to understand. “Do your legs not want today?” “It’s more about conserving energy, really, but yes, you could say that.”

 

The staring was off-putting at best, and downright infuriating at worst, but apparently, he was the only one that was bothered by that, since John and Alan seemed to only have eyes for each other yet again. His brother had the time of his life making fun of John, who was now almost an entire head shorter than him. Edgar only vaguely participated in their banter and instead let them be, mentally preparing for what was coming and fighting the overwhelming urge to run away.

The Shelby home was only a relatively short walk away from their own flat. Well, Edgar would consider it short. On good days, Alan could probably make it on his own. His brother seemingly had the same thought when he suggested: “Maybe I should come by sometimes, huh? I could visit you at the betting shop.” John chuckled. “Honestly, the betting shop is a piece of work. If you want to spend time, the Garrison is far better.” “I’ll warn you, I’m a lightweight. Somebody will have to carry me home afterwards.” “I’ll carry you wherever you want.” Edgar could hear the little scoff coming from his brother, but he still smiled. Sweet.
“Can you let me down?” “Sure.”

He set his brother down and fiddled around with his shirt. “Quit being nervous, you’re going to a dinner, not a court hearing”, Alan scolded him. “I’m not nervous.” “Oh, no, of course not. He did the fucking laundry yesterday, so he could look “presentable”. He hates doing laundry!” John laughed. “Does this really rile you up that much?” Edgar rolled his eyes. “Let’s just go on, shall we?” “He even shaved! Look at that face!” “Alan.” He didn’t need to explain to anyone that he indeed wanted to look presentable. Just in case if Tommy looked in his direction for longer than two seconds.

Jesus Christ he felt like he was nineteen again.

“We’re here!” John went in first, Alan followed closely after him. Edgar took a deep breathe before he did too.

The Shelby home was nice, he thought. He had a good feeling about it. Chaotic, but familiar in a way that was warm and cozy. Gathered around the table were a man with a moustache and a woman, who he recognised as Polly Gray. “Fucking finally!” The man with the moustache shouted. “Took you forever. Did you get lost, John?” “Shut up, Arthur.” “Both of you, tone it down”, Polly scolded them, before she turned to them. She seemed friendly when she offered his brother her hand, who took it without hesitation. “I’m Polly.” “Nice to meet you, Polly. I’m Alan.”

She nodded before she turned towards him. Her eyes were piercing right through him, and he felt like she was trying to look into his soul. “And you must be Edgar.” “That is me. Pleasure to finally meet you, Miss.” “Oh, drop the formalities, we’re not that serious about it.” When she shook his hand, she took a closer look at it. Edgar just hoped he hadn’t missed any dirt under his nails. “Tommy is not here yet, but I’m sure he will join us soon.” “Like he would miss this”, Arthur mumbled. “He’s the whole reason we’re doing this.” “Please, sit down”, Polly gestured to the table. “Finn! Come, down, dinner’s almost ready!”

Then she smiled at Alan. “I’ve never seen him pick up a book before, and suddenly, he asked me if he could get one. He’s not good at reading, but he tries.” His brother laughed. “Edgar taught me how to read. I wasn’t good at it either, but then I started doing it so much it became natural.” “You taught him?”, John asked with a frown. Alan shrugged. “It was not like I could go to school.”

There was an uncomfortable silence when a loud rumble came from upstairs. “I’m okay!”, a call came soon after, and with that, Finn came bursting through the door. “Hi, Edgar! I was already waiting for you!” “Oh, really?” “Yeah. I wanted to visit you again, but I had so much to do…” Finn went on a ramble about all the important “business” he had to take care of, and Edgar listened attentively. Clearly, this was important to him, and with his family all being so busy themselves, Edgar could imagine that nobody really had the time to properly look after Finn. Sometimes he wondered if the youngest Shelby was lonely.

Alan had started to talk to Arthur, and Edgar found it quite amusing. Arthur was a loud man, and quite rough on the outside. Nearly perfect for Alan, who immediately matched the energy coming from him, being just as loud and over-compensating as he was with almost everything. After five minutes of conversation, he had told him to fuck off roughly three times. John sat next to him, closely, and fired just as much against his brother. Poor Arthur, having to defend himself against two, became even louder, until Polly told him to tone it down again.

It reminded him of him and Alan. The only difference was that Edgar didn’t get loud as much, and nobody had ever told them to keep it together. When they bickered, they did it alone at home.
“They’re already here?”

Tommy had appeared in the door seemingly out of nowhere. “Sit down, we’re only waiting for you”, his aunt let him know. “What do you want to drink?” “Water is just fine”, Edgar answered. He tried to prevent his hands from shaking when Tommy sat next to him. His heart beat so loud in his chest he feared others might hear it. His brother wasn’t as picky with his choice of drink. “Whatever is fine, really. I’ll drink what John drinks.”

“You really don’t drink?”, Polly asked Edgar when she put the glass of water in front of him. He shook his head. “Rarely. I don’t like it.” Arthur laughed. “You don’t drink? What the hell do you do all day?” “Well, I work, I cook, I listen to Alan’s stories, I’m working on my plans to overthrow the government, I uhm… bake”, he began listing. Alan giggled. “He’s the perfect housewife.” “I am the perfect housewife.” “Yeah. Because it is widely known that all housewives want to overthrow the government.” “Of course. We have our weekly meetings were we drink tea and knit socks and talk about our kids and husbands and overthrowing the government.” Both Arthur and John had broken out in a burst of laughter and even Edgar couldn’t hide back the smug grin. When he looked to his left, Tommy was smiling softly at the scene in front of them.

His hands started to shake again.
Fuck.
He had to get it together.

 

The food was okay, as far as it went. When it came to drinks, Alan tried to keep up with the Shelby brothers, failed miserably and was drunk before they got to dessert. Edgar was only moderately embarrassed.

At least his brother knew how to behave. He just got louder, and a bit bolder, but every time Polly would ask him something, he would calm down a little and give a collected answer. They kept to light conversation, and Polly was mainly the one asking questions.

Tommy kept more to himself during the whole dinner and would almost only speak when spoken to. But Edgar still noticed that he kept looking over at him (granted, he only noticed because he kept looking too). When Tommy had excused himself for a quick smoke outside, Alan leaned over to him. “Edgar.” “Yes?” “You know he wants to fuck you, right?”

There was a beat of silence. All eyes were on Alan now, most of them filled with shook, and two of them with confusion (Finn). “What?” His brother gasped. “Oh my god, you don’t?” “Alan, please…” “Are you dense? How did you not know?” “Alan, you’re drunk, you’re talking nonsense.” He frowned. “Yeah, I’m drunk, not stupid.”
“Alan”, John now chimed in. “I think it’s enough, huh?” “What, it’s true, you can’t tell me that you don’t know…” “Edgar is right, you’re drunk. How about we get you to bed?” “But I don’t want to go to bed!”, Alan whined. “I don’t want to go home.” He plopped his head against John’s shoulder and closed his eyes. John’s confusion wasn’t even gone yet when Edgar could already hear Alan’s soft snoring.

He sighed. “I’m so sorry he said that, he’s not used to alcohol.” Polly shook her head. “Don’t be. He’s clever, your brother.” Edgar stood up. “Well, it’s probably better I get him home.” “I’m coming with you.”
Tommy had come back from his smoke and nodded towards him.

“Sure.” So Edgar carefully pealed his brother away from John (who only looked a little disappointed), and made his way home with Tommy by his side.

“How is it?”, he decided to ask him. “What?” “Everything. With the Lee’s, maybe?” “Well, I decided against their offer, as you advised me. I’m still trying to figure out something, but I think I’m getting somewhere.” “I didn’t expect you to listen to me”, he confessed. “But I’m glad you did. Really.” “I think I am too.”
His mind was running up and down, thinking about what Alan had said.

Edgar had the feeling he couldn’t form a coherent thought anymore. He was so… calm. Tommy was calming him.
Where did that come from?

“I’m happy you came today. I think Polly likes you. And your brother.” Edgar smiled. “I certainly would hope so. I like them too.” “You do?” “Yeah. I really do. You have a great family.” There was a moment of silence before he answered: “I guess so.”

 

He lied awake that night again.
“You know he wants to fuck you, right?”
The sentence was playing in his head over and over again, and it was driving him up the wall. Only the possibility…
Edgar thought of Tommy that night, in one way or another. Maybe he should feel guilty about it, but it felt too good to stop. Not a noise or a word came over his lips, but his name lied on his tongue, and it tasted sweeter than anything Edgar had ever tasted before.
He washed himself before he went to bed, and fell asleep wondering how it would feel like to fall asleep in Tommy’s arms.

 

“And? What do you think of them?”
Polly looked up at Tommy, who was impatiently awaiting an answer. “I understand why you like him so much. He’s a sweet man from what I have seen, no doubt. I can feel that. Alan is a good match for John, I believe. He is smart too. He figured you out already.” “He did?” “He asked his brother if he knew that you want to fuck him.” Tommy froze in his movement, but Polly continued. “You get better at hiding that, okay? We don’t need people like Campbell to know. And Tommy.” She turned to him and hesitated, before she went on: “I still want you to be careful. That man has a heart made of gold, maybe, but he is not as innocent as you would like him to be. He has blood on his hands, and I can’t figure out where it comes from.”

Notes:

We're ending on one horny note and one teaser lol
I don't usually change perspective, as you know, but fuck it I can do whatever the fuck I want. See it as a little treat.

until we see again :D

Chapter 10: By order of the Peaky Blinders (And Alan!)

Summary:

Edgar is home alone and visits his brother. He also chats with Polly. Alan is tired of everybody's shit and takes matters into his own hands. It's a success

Notes:

I... finished it?
I'm surprised too, dear people, but the chapter is ready! It's a little shorter than the last one, but anyways.
Note: I noticed that I messed up on my numbers a little bit. I'm probably not going to change it since Ikept it very vague for the most part, so if teh math isn't mathing, you know why. I'll chalk it up to generalisation. Who cares if that thing was fifteen or seventeen years ago? I don't!
Thanks to everybody for kudos and comments. I said it before and I'll say it again, you're the best
enjoy :)

When Edgar came home the next day, Alan was not there. Instead, he found a note on the table.

 

We kidnapped your brother.

If you ever want to see him again, that is your problem.

By order of the Peaky Blinders (And Alan!)

 

After he had overcome his initial shock, he must admit that he smiled. Who, after all, didn’t fear the Peaky Blinders and their extra, Alan?

Edgar began wondering if and when he should start looking for his brother. Theoretically, he did trust John to bring him back in one piece. However, practically, if they both got drunk again, he highly doubted they would even make it home.

He just hoped that Alan wouldn’t begin like at the dinner again. As if he couldn’t find other things to do. He could snog the living daylight out of John, for example. That would certainly shut them both up in an efficient way.

He dreaded being alone without the shovel to distract him or anything to do, in hollow silence, so instead, he decided to go out again. Edgar considered going to the Garrison, but just in case his brother was there (or Tommy), he decided not to.

In the end, he was at the graveyard again. But this time, it wasn’t for his work. Instead, he went to his mother’s grave. The ground was still cold, but Edgar sat down anyways. He stared at her gravestone for a long time.

Elizabeth Murphy, born Baker, 1871-1900

His father didn’t have a grave. People that just went missing one day didn’t need a gravestone. Especially not people like his father.

“She is your mother, I assume?”

Again with the sudden appearance out of nowhere!

Polly waited patiently for him to answer. Edgar nodded. “She was. She died when I was ten.” “May I ask why?” “Mother has been sick for a long time before she died. After Alan’s birth, something went downhill, and nothing could stop it. One day, she just… died.” Guilt made his throat swell up so much he could feel it, and for a moment he wasn’t sure he knew how to breathe.

Forcefully, he pushed back any tears that came up and cleared his throat. “Sorry. If you took care for someone for such a long time, it’s sometimes hard to let go.” “You took care of her.” “Of course. God knows my father wouldn’t. And there wasn’t anyone else to do it.” “And your father?” “He’s gone.” “And where is he?”, Polly continued to ask. Edgar shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care. As long as he doesn’t come back.” He did know where he was. He also knew that he wouldn’t come back. But like he said, he was gone for good and they were all better off without him." “You don’t like your father.”

“I want to say I resent him, and a part of me does. But it’s hard to hate someone you know was miserable.” “Tommy said your scar was an accident.” “Yes.” “I don’t believe that one bit.”

Edgar looked up at her. Her eyes might look static, but Edgar could see a softness in her expression he believed he had only ever seen on his mother, when she had hugged him so tightly it was almost suffocating.

We need to survive, Edgar. It’s hard, but we can’t leave the people we love behind.

So why did she die?

It pained him to only think about it.

He let out a sigh. “Alan hates it when I call it that. He says it is an euphemism for something that doesn’t deserve one. And it is. But I don’t know what else to call it without having to explain myself every time. And I hate telling that story, because it’s ugly. There are enough other ugly things to worry about.” “Will you tell us?” “Maybe one day. When it is important.”

They were silent for a while, until he decided it was enough and he stood up from the ground. “I’m sorry for yesterday, really. Alan is a lightweight, and incredibly noisy too. What he said was inappropriate, and I hope you can forgive him.” “I already said, don’t worry about it, I have heard much worse in my life. The only minor inconvenience it caused was Finn’s sudden interest in how two men are supposed to do it. I told him to ask you, since I feel unqualified to explain that to him and none of his brothers were brave enough to at least try. Cowards. So I hope you’re prepared to have a talk with a curious eleven-year-old.”

Edgar snickered. “Oh, I think I can handle that, don’t worry. If you’re not worried about me luring him into homosexuality, we can have a chat. I may seem like one, but I’m not a prude.”

Polly smiled at him. “I’m glad Tommy met you. You knock some sense into him. He needs it.” A deep sigh escaped her. “I also really hope you won’t break each other’s hearts, because I’m not sure if he could live with that.” Edgar furrowed his eyebrows. “What?” “You do know how much he likes you, right?” “Why does everybody keep talking about that? Tommy doesn’t like me, obviously, why would he?” Polly shook her head. “It is like talking to a wall with you two. If you are like this with each other, it will send you into hell’s kitchen. But that is your problem then. Consider yourself and your brother welcome in our home. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.” With that, she turned around and walked away.

Edgar was left with a million questions and no answers.

What was that supposed to mean? Yesterday, Tommy wanted to fuck him, now he had feelings for him, why did everybody seem to know better than him and why was everybody telling on Tommy like he was too much of a coward to tell Edgar himself?

He huffed. No, he had no need to run after a man just because one or two people hinted that he may want that. If Tommy wanted something from him, he would need to come to him personally and tell him. Like a fucking man would. Not that he considered that possible. And if it happened, Edgar wasn’t sure if his heart could take it or if it would combust the moment Tommy would confess to him. That would be sad, but he would die a happy man, that was sure.

 

Edgar ran some errands to avoid going home just a little longer, but then admitted that it was enough and that he should better go and make dinner. Cooking alone was okay, because his hands and mind were busy elsewhere and he couldn’t get lost too much. He would be fine.

Alan did not come home, which only drove him up the wall a tiny bit. He really needed to let his brother be. It wasn’t the first time he had went out with other people, and he was fine back then. He would be fine now. It would all be fine.

There was a knock on the door. “It’s open!”, he exclaimed before he could think of who it might be.

Tommy Shelby stood before him, a look on his face like somebody stole all his horses at once. “Did you know that your brother has connections to the Lees?”

Edgar blinked. “He what?”

 

A few hours before….

“And you’re sure you will be fine?” Alan groaned. “Yes, John, for the last fucking time, I will be fine. I’m just going to talk, they’re not going to do anything to me.” “And what are you getting out of this?” “Well, I don’t have to worry about your ass getting shot anymore, so I get plenty out of this, thank you.”

John chuckled. “You are so sure about this.” “I am, I am.” “What the fuck do you have to do with the Lees?” “Nothing. That means, not much anymore. Edgar keeps his secrets, I think I’m allowed to keep mine.” “So you’re not going to tell me?” “Not now. After it’s over. Show effect, Johnny. You need to build tension before it is relieved.” “Sure, go off, you bloody poet.”

Alan snickered and buried his nose in John’s shoulder. John smelled nice. He felt nice. He looked nice. In summary, there were a lot of nice things about John. If he could, he would eat him. Or kiss him. Depends.

The Lees saw them coming from a mile away and Alan could already see them holding their guns. “You and your fucking murder caps”, he muttered. “You think they look awesome!” “Yes, they do, but they are not very discreet.” He waved at them. “It’s me, Alan! I come on my own terms to talk! Don’t even pay attention to my little donkey here!”

He could feel the joke relieving some of the obvious tension, and a young man came running towards them. “Alan! Time you show your face around here again!” “Can you let me down?”, he muttered, and John carefully let him slip on the ground again. “Good to see you too, Fred.” “I heard what happened with Paul. I’m so sorry.” Alan sighed. “Yeah, well, war is shit and people die, what are you supposed to do?”

John frowned. “Who..?” “I’ll explain later. I want to see Zilpha.” Fred looked back and forth between them. “You’re serious about this?” “I am.” The man nodded slowly. “You can see her. But he stays here.” “Sure. Don’t start a fight, don’t get kidnapped or killed or kill anyone. Right?” “I’m not a fucking baby.” “No, but you’re a Peaky fucking Blinder, which is about just as high in maintenance.” John rolled his eyes, but then came closer and whispered. “You’re careful too, okay?” “Don’t worry about me.”

Fred led him through. Alan has only been here before once, and that was years ago. “Since when are you with him?”, Fred suddenly asked. He shook his head. “I’m not with him.” “But you would like to be.” “Maybe.” “You know what they did?” “I do.” Fred sighed. “I just don’t want you to take this lightly, okay?” “I don’t, really, I take this very seriously.”

They came to a stand. “I’m telling her first.” “Sure, do that.” While Fred disappeared inside the wagon, Alan stayed outside and took a deep breathe. Although it most likely wouldn’t be all or nothing, it sure felt like it. He just hoped John would stay out of more trouble. That would make him look pretty stupid. Fre cam out after a short while and nodded. “She’ll see you.” “Thank you.” His legs hurt, and he knew he needed to sit down. He could do this.

 

“I’m surprised to see you, Alan.” Zilpha looked him up and down. “It is pretty unexpected, yes. I hope it’s not an inconvenience.” “You’re always welcome here. Now, tell me, why now? And why with him?” He gathered himself, carefully phrasing his answer before he spoke: “As I said, I’m here on my own terms, although it may not look like it. I do not speak for the Peaky Blinders, or the Shelbys. Nobody except him knows I’m here. I came here to ask for the favour you owe me.” “I guessed that.” “You see, the man I came here with, he is very dear to me, and all I want is for him to be safe. I know that asking for you to call off this war is a big thing, and I…”. He hesitated. “I still want to know if you would do this for me.”

Zilpha kept quiet. She seemed unsure of what to think. “You know they cut them, right? With razors?” “I do. They cut them after they called their mother a whore. Both very immature things, don’t you think? They may look like grown man, but they still act like little boys. Now, you went to war over that, and take done everything on the way. The boy that almost died, from the hand grenade your boys placed? Collateral damage?” “A boy?” “An eleven-year-old boy, Zilpha. Their little brother, Finn. I understand your anger towards them, but you, especially you must understand that this is ridiculous. Maybe that is just my philanthropist of a brother speaking through me, but this is what I think. If they do this again, I won’t interfere, then that is their problem. But I really want ask you, call this off. It’s not worth it. That is what I want my favour to be. You boy’s life for the man that is close to my heart.”

After a long moment of silence, she smiled. “I knew that you were a good talker when I met you for the first time. But I underestimated you.” She leaned forward and took his hand. “Send Thomas Shelby my regards. The war ends, and we will be on neutral terms again. We will pose no threat to your man.” He squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Zilpha.” “Of course.”

 

He walked up to John with a wide grin on his face. “I did it, Johnny boy! It’s over!” “It’s what?” “The war, Johnny, is over. Now, let’s go tell your brother before he thinks himself stupid.” He looked so cute when he was dumbfounded. God, how he adored this man.

Chapter 11: Who's the Loverboy now, huh?

Summary:

Tommy drags Edgar to a family meeting where they discuss Alan's self-initiative. Edgar realises some things. He has to spent his night alone.

Notes:

After an outburst of rage about my teacher, I finished this chapter yesterday. It's rather short, but I didn't now what else to write lol
I'm going to put an extra TW here for mental breakdown and self harm. It's not too bad (apart from the fact it is... self harm), but just to be sure, I'm going to say it.
Thanks to everyone for kudos and comments, please feel free to interact with me.
Enjoy! :)

Edgar followed Tommy back to the Shelby home with almost no questioning of the situation whatsoever. It was clear that his brother did something to piss him off, and Edgar’s head already filled with a number of scenarios he could absolutely picture Alan in that would cause such a thing. “Can you at least tell me what happened? Because this is the first and last time you come into my home, tell me my brother has connections to the Lees and then tell, no, fucking order me to come with you without elaborating any further!”

Tommy kept quiet, he didn’t even look at him. Edgar groaned in frustration. “You are unbelievable. Why do I have to come anyways?” “He’s your brother.” “And? Do you take responsibility for all the shit your brothers do?” “Most of the time, yeah. It’s never just them that did something. It’s the Peaky Blinders that did something.” “Yeah, well, Alan is not in a funny little gang, so…” “Oh, he is on his best way to his own murder cap.”

Edgar stopped in his tracks. “If you let him join, I will kill you with a shovel.” Finally, Tommy looked at him. “Don’t worry, I won’t. That’s what we have to talk about. Come on, they are already waiting for us.”

The whole Shelby family was gathered at the table, minus Finn, who Edgar hoped was in bed at this hour, plus Alan, who looked very pleased with himself. “What did you do?”, he asked him as soon as he sat at the table. “What did I do? I ended the war with the Lees, that’s what I did.” “You did what?” “Your brother, alright, interfered with our business.”

Alan raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, because you failed to grow the fuck up at some point! Cutting someone’s face because they insulted your mother, what are you, ten? If I would hate cut everybody’s face that ever insulted Edgar, I would be at war with half fucking Birmingham!” “You did punch my teacher in the groin once”, he pointed out. “Because he hit you across the face so fucking hard you could still see it days after! That is an entirely different thing! But no, Mister Blinder is too much of an important person to get insulted, he must start war over it.” “Don’t you fucking dare go there now.”

Alan banged his fist on the table, which made Edgar flinch. Tommy’s eyes flickered to him. “I didn’t want to! You were the one that started complaining and making accusations like fuck! Get it together!” By the look Tommy gave him, Edgar knew he expected him to say something, to calm him down or talk some sense into him, because god knows Alan was stubborn and Tommy couldn’t deal with that. “What even happened, Alan?”

Finally, his brother took a deep breath and began explaining: “So, some years ago, when I was out with Paul, right, and we were at a pub and this man started acting up and yelling at these boys to fuck off, but they were not having it, right, and all of a sudden this man pulled out a fucking knife from his pocket, charging at him, screaming “I’ll kill you, you fucking gypsy scum”. Now, I, sixteen years old, high out of my mind and ready to fight was faster, so I attacked him from behind and tackled him to the ground before he could, you know, kill somebody in the middle of a fucking pub. Turned out, the man I saved was one of Zilpha’s own sons, and since then she owed me a favour I decided to use. Not in the name of the Peaky Blinders, or the Shelbys, or anyone but me, simply so I don’t have to worry about John getting fucking killed, alright? Thank you.” “You did it for John?”, Polly asked him, calm as ever.

Alan shrugged. “Of course I kind of did it for all of you, but yes, John was my main motive behind all of it.” Edgar chuckled. “Go off, Loverboy.” “Shut up, Edgar, nobody wants to fuck you.”

John tried to hold back his laughter, and Edgar could feel the tension disappearing into thin air. Tommy still looked sour, but oh well. “How about you just tell somebody before you do go and do, okay?” “John knew.” “No I didn’t! You just asked me to carry you there!” “And you did, my dear little mule, happily so.” Tommy huffed and pulled his cigarettes out of his pockets. “I’m going for a smoke.”

Polly looked after him with a smile. “You know he only does this for you?”, she told Edgar. “Smoke outside?” “Tommy smokes everywhere, but he doesn’t smoke around you because you don’t like it.” “He… wouldn’t have to….” “Well, he still does it.” Alan snickered. “Who’s the Loverboy now, huh?” “Oh, be quiet”, Edgar grumbled and crossed his arms. “I’m going to talk to Tommy.”

He followed him outside where he stood and smoked his cigarette. “You don’t need to go outside for that. I’m not that sensitive.” “Polly?” “Hm?” “Did Polly tell you?” “She did.” Tommy huffed. “I just know that you don’t like it and I figured I wouldn’t.” “That’s very considerate of you. But it’s your home, you can smoke if you want to, I’m used to it.”

He took a drag of the cigarette, and Edgar dared to look at his lips. God, his lips. He caught him staring. But instead of saying something, he stared back. Edgar could feel Tommy’s wandering eyes on him, and it made him feel warm, but in a good way. It was like in his dream, something that pulled them towards each other, like they were supposed to kiss. The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks. He was wrong, so wrong. Alan was not stupid after all, there was something about the way Tommy eyed him.

“You never confirmed the fact that you’re a homosexual.”

There was the tension, all down the drain.

Edgar rolled his eyes. “That is not a fact, it is simply a brainchild of yours.” “But I’m right.” “Keep telling that yourself.” “I know you want me.” He smiled at Tommy’s accusation. In a boost of confidence he countered: “Don’t try and push your desires on me, Tommy. Be a man and admit to them.”

With that he returned inside, leaving the other man behind him. It was exciting to feel wanted.

It was also depressing to think about that that was probably it. Just sexual attraction. They couldn’t be in a relationship. Tommy would only have the best of the best, after all. A wife that would give him all the children in the world, and a big house. He would probably spoil her, and all other women would envy her, and the men would envy Tommy because she would be beautiful, the most beautiful woman anyone has ever seen.

Edgar was not beautiful. He was not soft and delicate, he was not worth spoiling and nobody envied him.

He would always be the other woman, the one you went to when you needed to blow off some steam.

It was not like he wanted to be in that position. Edgar longed for a meaningful relationship, one where they would trust and love and care for each other, that made normal nights good and bad nights less bad. He deserved better than being treated like a doll. And Tommy deserved better than him.

Alan was quietly talking with John and Arthur, while Polly seemed to listen attentively. “How about we call it a day, huh?” His brother gave John a long look. “I, uh… I actually wanted to stay with John.” Edgar was taken aback by the revelation. “You… really?” “Yes.”

He shrugged. “Well, then I guess I’m going home alone. You’ll be fine?” “Yeah, sure, I’ll be fine.” “Okay, then.” Edgar felt pretty awkward. It has been so long since Alan stayed outside of the house. Back then he didn’t like it, it always left him in such a jittery mood. He padded his brother on the shoulder. “Don’t make another baby, will you? See you tomorrow.” 

"Now look at that, can’t even shoot properly. You useless idiot! You are a disappointment, you know that? Look at you, you will end just like your mother. You-“ Bang.

Edgar woke up with a violent shudder. His heart was racing and he couldn’t form any clear thought. All he could think about was his face. His laughter. The way he screamed at him. The gun.

He gasped, trying to get himself to breathe, but it was no use. Edgar knew he had to calm himself down. He was hyperventilating, and it was not good. In an unsteady motion he stood up from the bed and stumbled into the kitchen. Water, he needed water. Something to hold onto. Why, why did it have to be today, when he was alone? Edgar hadn’t even realised he was crying until the sobs were forcing themselves out of his throat, choking him even more. His skin burned. He wanted to rip it off, claw his own eyes out, leave his body that needed to be violent so badly but instead froze. All the aggression couldn’t go anywhere. His throat felt tighter by the second. With shaky hands, he splashed water into his face to try and cool himself down. When it didn’t help, he slid on the floor and bit himself in his own hand until it hurt.

The relief he felt when he could finally breathe again was indescribable.

Edgar didn’t do this very often. But sometimes, it was his last outlet. He certainly did it often enough to know that he needed to bite his hand, not his arm, to not leave scars. He wouldn’t want to confront Alan with that further.

His heart slowed down, and he was left alone on the floor with his thoughts. It was so silent around him, it frightened him. Edgar thought of Tommy. He wondered if he would know what to do with him if he ever saw him like this. Would he be disgusted? Would he turn away immediately? Would that be it? Would he try to help him?

Alan had learned to handle his breakdowns, but that was a messy process after years of mishandling it, like everything else in their relationship. Edgar knew people of his time, especially men, didn’t address such things as fear or loneliness. They were expected to suck it up, and be men. However in his experience, everything was better than ignoring it. Ignoring made it worse. And Edgar had been ignoring a number of things for a too long time.

He was such a hypocrite.

The thought of Tommy made him feel warm inside, calm. He leaned back with a sigh. This man would be the death of him. The way he looked at him, he had been so stupid. It was almost unmistakable.

Edgar giggled. In the dead of night, after a nightmare, he sat on the floor in his flat in darkness and giggled about a man like a girl.

A very pretty man at that. A man that seemed to want him. That thought Edgar wanted him too. But he would not give him that satisfaction, not after the stunt he pulled today. Dragging him to a family meeting because Alan was sick of his gang wars. That should have been expected, honestly, that was entirely on him.

Edgar was terrified already when he thought about the things he still didn’t know about his brother. Tackling people with knifes in pubs. The logical consequence from this must be to not let him run around on his won. Edgar knew he was not his parent, Alan was a grown adult for fucks sake. But he still felt responsible for him, always had been. He was there to raise Alan when nobody else would Instead of playing the evil stepmother and locking him in his room forever, his dear little baby brother was staying the night with John.

Dear God, he didn’t even want to think about that.

Notes:

Fun fact: At the scene with Tommy and Edgar I did a complete 180. At first attempt it was really angsty, but then I hated it and now it's... sexy? I gues?
Love that for me.

Chapter 12: That's just how he was

Summary:

Edgar wakes up to John knocking on his door. He goes to work, and meets a man that reminds him of his past. It doesn't go well.

Notes:

I wrote most of this chapter in my car while I was waiting for my brother lmao
This really felt like it was taking everything out of me. I'm honestly second guessing myself entirely, but hey! I got another chapter out!
TW for past child abuse!
Thanks to everyone for kudos and comments, I appreciate every single one.
Have fun reading! :)

He was woken up by frantic knocks. “Edgar?” It was John, who sounded a little like he was panicking.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” His back hurt. Had he fallen asleep on the floor? “Oh for fuck’s sake!”, he cursed, louder this time. “Give me a second!”

Edgar got up from the floor, groaning in pain. His head seemed heavier than usual, his back hurt and he still felt like he was on the verge of crying his eyes out.

Nether the less, he grabbed the key from the counter and opened the door for John. “What’s going on?”

He froze at the sight of him, then laughed. “You look like shit, Edgar.” “Thank you very much, John, might be because I had a shit night. Now, tell me why you woke me from my precious sleep.” “So, Alan, he uh…” “You know what, how about you come inside? Can’t have Mrs Pearson spying on us.” “Right.”

Edgar let out a small sigh. He remembered the dream he had yesterday and immediately felt like everything came crushing down on him. Sometimes he wished he was more like Alan, who let out his anger and then brushed it off like nothing happened. Edgar was not like that, he could never let go of anything.

“So, what is it with Alan?” “He’s… He’s hurting, Edgar, and I don’t know what to do. Yesterday, everything was fine, and today he woke up and could barely move because everything hurt so much, not only his legs but his back and everything and I’m so sorry but I don’t know what to do.”

“Hey, calm down, have a breather, alright?”, Edgar interrupted him. “It’s alright, okay, it’s going to be fine.” He knew the panic John was experiencing, of course. It was not like he wasn’t in the same position countless times before. But seeing the man in front of him freak out, made him calmer rather than nervous. Edgar knew these situations, he knew how to handle them, and John would too, if he wanted to.

“He’s probably just exhausted. If you had sex yesterday, which, excuse me, but I assume you did, it cost him a lot of energy, and his body is kind of saying “Fuck you” now. Has he been asking for morphine?” “No… Does it get that bad?” “Sometimes. I hat to give it to him, but if he can’t sleep otherwise… There are things more important than my comfortability.” His mother took it too. Well, his mother took anything he could get her hands on, really. She had always smiled at him with her sad eyes.

I need it to sleep, you know? How could I get well if I can’t sleep?

He grabbed the pill bottle from one of the cabinets. “One every six hours, he knows the drill. If he has the opportunity for a bath, he will be thankful. Besides that, keep him warm, and in bed.” Then he went over to the couch and grabbed two books from the pile that he knew Alan wanted to re-read. “This will keep him entertained long enough. If you want to give him a treat, make him some warm milk with honey and cinnamon. The moment you start to think “Maybe that was too much cinnamon”, it’s just enough. I’ll have to go to work today, but I can come by in the afternoon if you want me to.”

John nodded and took both the books and the bottle. “Thank you, and sorry for barging in on you like this. I was just worried when he wouldn’t even get up.” “It’s fine, don’t worry. I’m glad you care enough about my brother to come to me for this. He’ll get better.”

Tommy had reassured him this the last time Alan was not well. Although what John was describing sounded much worse.

“You know what? Let’s do it like this: I’m going to work, and so are you, and I’ll come to the house afterwards and we can walk together.” John nodded. “Yes, sure, let’s do it like that.” “Good.”

 

So they did just that. Edgar was basically dragging himself to work. The shovel was heavier than on most days, and his back still hurt. He could have collapsed right then and there.

No matter how much he tried to brush it off, he couldn’t get rid of that uneasy feeling he had about today. Maybe he was just on the verge of a mental breakdown again, maybe it was just an underlying worry about his brother, but Edgar knew something terrible was about to happen.

Look at you, you will end just like your mother.

He never told Alan this, or anyone, because he didn’t want to trouble them, but he knew how his father had meant it. Mother had died when she was 29.

Edgar was 29 now.

Was it his destiny to die?

Was that why he had the dream? How was he going to go? Would he have to die alone?

Edgar didn’t want to die alone. He didn’t want to make anyone watch either.

Why he could only imagine him dying a violent death? If only he would know. Maybe that happened when somebody was brought up in a violent way. Oh mother, why did she have to leave them alone with him?

He wondered if that was why the Shelbys did what they did. Under no circumstances would he dare to assume anything about their upbringing. The only thing he knew was that they were Roma, or half Roma. Something along these lines he had heard before, but besides that…

Well, it wasn’t particularly unusual. Edgar didn’t think anyone in his life would have known what happened in their home. That meant, before the whole thing with his face happened. After that, he began to notice the worried glances and subtle questions that on first glance were nothing more than polite small talk.  

He had hated it. It made him feel ashamed of who he was, of what he thought he inevitably was going to be, because no man that looked so much like his father couldn’t turn out at least a little bit like him.

 

Working was pain, and so was walking. If Edgar wouldn’t have been so picky about his sleeping environment, he would have fallen asleep at some point, he was sure. Instead, he was more or less forcing himself to just get it done with so he could go home and maybe try to sleep a little. But before, he had to check after Alan.

So, after he was done, he made his way to the Shelby house, where John (hopefully) would be waiting for him.

“Hello!”, he exclaimed once he entered. “It’s me, Edgar.” It was awfully quiet, which made him wonder if anybody was at home or if he just broke into someone else’s house.

Once he went into the living room though, everybody was there. Besides Tommy, that was, but Polly, Arthur, John and Finn all sat there, together with a man Edgar has not seen before. The tension between all people present was unbearable.

He frowned. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt anything.” “What is he doing here?”, Polly asked. “I’m sorry, I can just go wait outside…” “Oh, no, why don’t you stay?”, the man interrupted him. His smile was sickening, and there was something, a cruel glimpse in his eyes that bore his way into Edgar’s very core. “Would anyone care to introduce him to me?”

Arthur cleared his throat. “He’s, well, he’s a friend of Tommy…” “A friend, you say?”

Edgar could hear in his tone of voice what he was implying. His face started to burn. Was that what the dream was trying to tell him? Rationally spoken, he knew that this man wasn’t his father, but it surely felt like it when he kept inspecting him like a bothersome stain on his white shirt. “What happened to your face?”

He swallowed, and then slowly stretched his hand out. “Finn? Why don’t you come here for a second?” The disgusting smile fell, and Finn looked worried. “What’s wrong?” “Oh, nothing, just come here, okay?”

The boy slowly stood up and went over to Edgar, who gently pushed Finn to stay behind him. “You have no fucking…!”, Arthur jumped up and started to shout, when Tommy stepped into the room. He took one look at the man, before he said with resignation: “Get out.”

An argument broke out, and Edgar could make out that the man that was sitting at the table was Arthur Shelby Senior, the father of the bunch and brother of Polly, who allegedly had fucked off too. Nothing mattered. His only priority right now was to keep Finn safe.

Arthur Shelby Senior surrendered quickly and took his leave, but not before trying to reach for Finn. Edgar, however, didn’t let him. Instead, he pushed him even further away from him. Anger crossed the man’s face, and he huffed. “I’m sure you and Tommy make a nice couple, huh? Well, I’ll leave you to it, then.”

As soon as he was gone, Edgar finally came to his senses again. Arthur was already coming at him. “Why the fuck would you do that? He’s his own fucking son, you have no right to go between them!” “Arthur”, Tommy tried to calm his brother, but Edgar was honestly done with everything today. “He doesn’t seem like he’s safe.” “You don’t even know him!” “No I don’t but I know men like him”, he spat. “Men that call their abuse discipline or though love. They can’t even admit to their wrong doings.” “He’s still his father!”

Something about this statement was too much. The dream, the rest of the night, the thing with Alan, all his bad memories coming up again… It flipped a switch.

“I don’t fucking care! Look what my father did to me! Take a good look at my fucking face and tell me that this was justified by him being my father! I’ll be damned if I let a man like that near a child!”

Arthur was right, of course. He didn’t know their father, or what he did prior to leaving, but he knew what he saw. Never in his life would he forget this look.

The silence that came was deafening. While John looked genuinely shocked at the revelation, Tommy and Polly’s expressions were unreadable. And Arthur? Arthur looked a little ashamed. Edgar could feel Finn clinging to his sleave. Since when was he shaking?

“You father did that?”, John asked quietly.

He shrugged, unsure of what was the appropriate thing to do next. What was he supposed to say to that? “Well, yeah. That’s just how he was. I cried him too much.”

Swallowing the lump down didn’t work this time. Instead, his eyes started stinging. Edgar tried to hide it, but it was no use.

“Come on, sit down, eh? Before you collapse us here”, Tommy urged him gently. He nodded and let himself be pushed to a seat. “I’m sorry”, he whispered. “No, you have nothing to be sorry for. You did what you deemed right, it’s all good.” Tommy’s hand remained on his shoulder, but Edgar decided he didn’t care.

He nodded stiffly and wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry. Arthur’s right, it’s not my place. Finn, if you want to meet your father, it’s fine, you should go.”

Finn was staring at him indifferently, before he raised his hand to Edgar’s face. “Can I touch it?”, he asked shyly. “Finn”, Polly wanted to start lecturing him, but Edgar shook his head. “It’s fine, don’t worry. Yes, you can.”

The hand on his face seemed only like a feather, or even less. “Does it hurt?”, the youngest Shelby continued his questions. “No. Well, sometimes it does, but that’s only in my head. I feel barely anything on it.” “Really?” “Mhm. Burned my nerves off, the doctor said. There is nothing there that could feel.” “And he did it because you… cried?”

Edgar sighed. He felt sorry that he exposed Finn to something like this. He was too young for this kind of baggage. “You know, Finn, my father didn’t like himself a lot. So he drank to escape himself, and when he drank, he got angry. And you couldn’t hide anything from him. No matter what it was, he looked at you and he just knew. He knew everything, and he knew exactly what to say to hurt you. Sometimes, when he got too angry, words weren’t enough. He never did anything like this before or after that, though. ” It felt weird, the need to clarify that. Their father was a bad man, yes, but he wasn’t always a monster. He was the one that dragged him to the doctor afterwards.

Finn took his hand from his face. “I trust you”, he told him quietly. “If you say he’s not safe… I’ll just wait for some time. Maybe then I’ll meet him.”

Tommy nodded next to him, his hand was still on Edgar’s shoulder. “Yes, let’s do it this way. Probably for the best.”

Arthur looked back and forth between them, then huffed. “Do what you want. I’m going to meet him.” With a last judging look towards Edgar he left to go after his father.

The guilt was already beginning to eat him up. What had he been thinking when he stepped between them? Now they knew. He had bared a part of him, and no that it was out he wanted to do nothing more than to hide it again, under layers and layers of half-spoken truths and thick skin.

“Oh, stop looking so miserable.” Polly handed him a glass of water. “There are things to feel more ashamed of than having a terrible father. Or crying.”

His hands finally stopped shaking and the water made the knot in his throat disappear. “Thank you.”

John got up. “Maybe we should get going. Wouldn’t want to keep Alan waiting.” “Yes, of course. Let’s go.”  

Notes:

That was it!
I'm really torn, because at first I wanted it to be like "Let them build a relationship and then fight against the world together, supercute", but recently I have this voice telling me "Let them break each other's heart, let Edgar run away. Kill someone, idk. Let it end in tragedy". I don't think I could bring myself to this though, because the thought alone makes me cry.

(Disclaimer: I might or might not be writing on another thing right now (if I want Finn to have an Italian boyfriend he will get him an Italian boyfriend because I said so) I would love to put out there one day, so...there's that)

Chapter 13: Whispers in the dark

Summary:

Edgar visits his brother and briefly talks to John. Tommy is already waiting for him. They open up to each other.

Notes:

My dear gentlemen, women, nonbinary folks and others, I am ecstatic to present a new chapter of this mess!
Thank you all so much for your support, it fills me with brightness and gratitude.
I would also like to apologise for any typos and other errors, I did not read this through.
Thank you for baring with me through this. Have fun! :D

Edgar entered room which was only lit by a small lamp on the nightstand.

“You look like shit.”

He huffed. “You’re the second one who told me that today.”

Alan chuckled. “No wonder. It’s true.” “You don’t look much better.” He sat down next to him on the bed, where Alan’s face was barely any contrast to the white sheets. Edgar stomach clenched uncomfortably at the sight.

“Yeah, well, you know how it is. I’m already feeling better though. Katie was by my side the whole day.” “And who’s Katie now?” “John’s daughter. Clever little girl. I adore her.” “Oh yeah?” “Yeah.”

Edgar smiled softly and ruffled through his hair. “And? How are you? Despite the obvious.”

Alan took his hand. “Oh, Edgar. I love this man so much, you don't even know.”

He nodded deeply in thought. Tommy had looked so... worried. Why had he been worried? Why would he? Care for Edgar, that was.

“What's going on with you?”, Alan interrupted his train of thought. “Hm?” “Something's off with you. What is it?”

Edgar looked at their hands, still holding each other. Alan was so cold.

“I told them about our father.”

Alan frowned. “You what?” “I told them about our father. What he did to me.” “You told them about...?” Edgar nodded.

His brother's face was blank. Then he gently squeezed his hand. “I will never not be proud that you are my brother. I hope you know that.” “Why do I feel so bad about it then?” “I don’t know.”

Alan sighed. “I’m still glad you did it. You and Tommy need to start being honest to each other.” “What? Why?” “Because you’ll just drag each other to hell this way, that’s why.” Edgar shook his head. “That must be the fever speaking.” “Yeah. Must be.”

He leaned forward and kissed Alan’s forehead. “You should sleep then, if you’re starting to talk nonsense like this.” “You’re right, as always.” “Sleep well then. I will come by tomorrow again.”

John was standing in the living room when Edgar came down the stairs. “He’ll be alright. I know it looks bad now, but he gets like that sometimes.” The Shelby nodded. “Yeah, yeah… Edgar?” “Yes?” “Who is Paul?”

Edgar frowned. “How do you know about Paul?” “When we were at the Lee’s, that Gypsy boy mentioned him, one of Alan’s friends. Said he was sorry or something. Alan said he would explain it later, but when I tried to bring it up he changed topic.” Edgar gave out a small sigh. “It’s nothing bad, don’t worry, it’s just sad. Paul was Alan’s first love, you know? They were attached at the hip, spend every free minute with each other. Paul joined the war in 1915. They wrote letters to each other, but after a few months he stopped responding.” The last time they had waited for weeks and weeks. After almost four months, Alan had broken down crying. He remembered the devastated screams like it was yesterday. “We still don’t know what happened, if he died or was captured or something else. It broke Alan’s heart. He may be over him, but I doubt he likes to speak about it.”

John nodded. “It’s alright. I was just worried, you know?” “You don’t have to. I don’t know how strict you are with adultery, but Alan is a faithful soul.” “No, it’s not that… But good to know.”

He smirked at Edgar. “And? Were there ever any men in your life?” He laughed. “So you think I’m queer now too?” “Was the best next guess, since you don’t seem interested in women.”

Edgar smiled. “There was one, once. But that was almost ten years ago.” “And? Why did that not work out? He was a drunk?” “Oh, no. On the contrary. He was sweet, and patient, told me that I’m beautiful and everything… I guess we were kind of destined to fail. Relationships like ours involve a lot of secrecy, and his family couldn’t know so we only ever met at night when he came to me. Until one night, he told we couldn’t see each other anymore.” He hesitated. It still stung a little when he thought back. “He promised his fiancée that after they were married, he would stop seeing the other woman. It was the night before his wedding.” John raised his eyebrows. “What an asshole.”

Edgar couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell me about it. Broke my heart too.” “You’re pretty unlucky, huh?” “Maybe. Doesn’t matter. We’re better now, are we not?” “Don’t worry. I’m sure one day a handsome bloke will sweep you off your feet.” “If you say so.” “Believe me, I know it. I can see into the future, didn’t you know?” “I really should have”, Edgar huffed with a grin.

“Oh, and by the way, thank you for what you did for Finn today.” His smile faltered. “I don’t remember my dad very well, but I know he’s not a good man. And I wouldn’t have been brave enough to step between them.” “I don’t think I was very brave, honestly.” “You were terrified of him, and you still stood up against him. That must be brave in some way.” Edgar shrugged, trying to dismiss him. “I didn’t think much. I guess in that moment I was just a boy again, trying to protect his brother. Not that Alan had ever needed it. He was way better dealing with father than I was.” John hummed. “Will you tell me what happened to your father?”

Edgar shook his head. “No. Not yet.” “Okay.”

After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat. “I think I should get going.” “If you say so.” “I’ll come by tomorrow again, if that’s alright?” “Of course. Feel free to come by.” “Thank you John.”

 

When Edgar walked up the stairs to his flat, he already saw Tommy standing there, leaning against his door. He didn’t know if he should be happy or annoyed at the sight. “Hello, Tommy.” “Took you long enough.” “Well, if you’re waiting on my doorstep without telling me you’ll come by, I think you have only yourself to blame.”

Edgar unlocked the door and let Tommy in without another word. It didn't even feel strange to him anymore, quite the opposite actually. In the course of the last few weeks and months, the Shelby’s had become well-acquainted and welcomed guests at his house. Maybe some more than others, but Edgar couldn't lie, he enjoyed having company besides his brother. Eve if said company was more morally ambiguous than a righteous citizen should be comfortable with.

Not that Edgar would call himself a righteous citizen. After all, who was he to judge?

“So, Tommy, please enlighten me: What posses you to wait at my door so late? People might get ideas if they see you.” “I wanted to see if you were okay after what happened today.”

Edgar's heart sunk. Tommy was worried about him. That was why he was here. He didn't even try to deny it. It brought up a feeling in Edgar's chest that he could only describe as fuzzy, but somehow still uncomfortable.

On the outside, he tried to seem unaffected. “I'm fine. I was just a little shaken up.” “You look awful. John said you didn't sleep well?” “I didn't, to be truthful, but there's nothing to worry about you. I will be fine.”

Tommy’s stare on him was intense, but Edgar didn't budge. Instead, he stood there like the immovable rock in the storm he wanted to be.

“You know I don't care what others think, right? What they say about us?” Edgar frowned. “What exactly do you mean?” “Because you said people might talk. I don't care what they talk.” “Well, you should. People are not exactly kind to homosexuals or other... queers, if I might say.” “I'm Thomas fucking Shelby. The man who says something about me today will lie dead in a ditch tomorrow. Or you. Don't believe you are without protection.”

Edgar couldn't help but chuckle. “Don’t be silly. The people who would harm me already knew before you came along.” “It's not silly. You and your brother are under my protection, and if anyone should ever lay a hand on you, you tell me immediately.”

The thing was, Edgar was convinced he didn't need protection. He made it through his childhood, or not? What more was there to come? Yes, homosexuality was illegal, but only if it was discovered or reported. There were places that were safe for them. Or at least safer.

“You said your father disappeared.” Edgar had been desperate for a change of topic, but certainly not in this direction. “He did.” “Polly think you killed someone. I wonder if it was your father.”

He was pretty sure his heart stopped for a second there. It took everything out of him to stay composed. “How did she get that idea?” “Polly can see things others can't. And it would fit your very vague description about what happened to your father.”

Edgar didn't know how you respond without revealing the truth. So, he did the next best thing that came to his mind.

He glared angrily at Tommy: “You better don't accuse me of murder in my own house, Shelby, or you can leave and never come back.”

Tommy seemed unimpressed, but nodded shortly. “Apologies. The point is, I did not want you to spend the night alone again and I wondered...” The rest was left unsaid, but he didn't need to spell it out. “You want to spend the night here?” “It would calm me to know you sleep well.”

If it hadn't shocked him so much, Edgar would have been more offended. Was that how Tommy thought he would get into Edgar's bed, he was mistaken. Oh, Edgar would make him regret this. “Of course. I'm sure Alan won't mind if you sleep in his bed for the night.”

Tommy blinked, and Edgar wondered what he had thought. Hell, he would have rather slept on the couch than offer him to share a bed. He was not a whore, and Tommy didn't get to take advantage of him. The times were he would have let him was long over.

“Right.” At least he looked a little flustered. “Good. I'll get ready.”

And that was how Tommy ended up in the bed across from his, undressed to his undershirt and trousers. It was strange. He wondered if that was how couples slept. Edgar's parents never slept in the same room, as far as he could remember, but they probably weren't the best example of a normal marriage. His lover had never stayed the night, and Alan and Paul... They didn't need separate beds. They either slept next to or on top of each other, depending on how much space there was.

“Can I ask you something? Since you seem so fond of interrogating me?”, Edgar asked into the dark. “Of course.” “How was it in France?”

If Edgar was honest, war was never an option for him, not even without the excuse of Alan. He couldn't imagine going somewhere to kill people. Maybe to defend, yes, but... not like this.

It was quiet for a while, and for a moment he was worried that he crossed a line, but then, Tommy began to talk: “I don't remember much, if I'm honest. I dug tunnels, sometimes they collapsed, then we had to dig ourselves out. One time, we could hear the Germans digging from the other side, and... We nearly died that night. Sometimes at night, I can hear the shovels scraping along the wall.” Edgar remembered, Tommy had told him that some time ago, when they didn't even properly know each other. “It was all very unsafe, but somehow, I was used to that. I came from a poor family, so not having food every time your hungry was actually not that big of a change. It was still hard. When you met someone, you could never trust that they were there tomorrow. I can barely get to sleep by myself. It's this restlessness that keeps me moving.”

Tommy laid his soul bare for Edgar, and it was touching, really. Maybe it was easier because it was dark, just hidden enough to not feel naked.

He touched the scar on his face. “I'm sorry about today.” “Don't be. I'm glad Finn listens to you. I know Arthur only means good, but he's blind to our father's true intentions.” “That are?” “I don't know, but nothing good can come of him, that much is clear.” “Oh, trust me, I know what you're talking about.”

The sheets made a shuffling sound when Tommy turned. “I thought about something today. You know that our line of work is not the safest, and something might go wrong. After what you did for Finn today, I wanted to ask if anything ever happens to my family, if you would look after Finn.”

Edgar blinked into the dark, truly speechless this time. Tommy continued: “Of course he would not be a financial burden, I will make sure of that, and I don't hope, but if... I wanted to be sure he's not left alone. And he adores you, he listens to you. And I would much rather have him with you than our father.” “Tommy, stop.” He didn't even know why, but Tommy entrusting him with his brother made him more emotional than he would like to be.

The blanket made a ruffling sound, and he heard quiet footsteps coming closer to him. “It’s alright.” He felt the bed dip beside him, and Tommy's warm body laying down next to him, wrapping him in his arms. Edgar was too tired to protest and scooted over to give him more space.

In the end, Edgar had lost, and despite his reluctance Tommy had managed to still weasel his way into his bed, holding him against his chest to calm him. His gentleness felt so misplaced, something between a lie and a well-kept secret, yet it was exactly what Edgar needed right now.

Oh, this would end badly. An absolute disaster.

Chapter 14: Uncovered truths (there's dirt everywhere)

Summary:

Edgar and Tommy spend the morning together. Edgar decides they should take a step back. Campbell has some questions.

Notes:

Salvete!
I am back to announce a new chapter! After I completely rewrote the second part twice, I am finally happy with the outcome. I am so back in this baby!
Thank you all for your comments and kudos, especially after such a long hiatus.
Enjoy ^^

Edgar felt like he was floating. He was sure he hadn't slept that well in years. Hell, he probably had never slept that well in his whole life!

He laid on his side, an arm was wrapped around his waist and he could hear Tommy’s steady breathing behind him. If he thought of it, Edgar had never cuddled with someone like this. When he was younger, Alan had come into his bed sometimes, either for comfort or warmth, but it was never like this.

Edgar let out a small sigh. It wasn't bad, per say, and he enjoyed the closeness , but there was still a feeling of dread he couldn't shake of. Was it Tommy? Or was it him?

In this moment, Tommy moved, and for a moment he thought he would get up, but instead, he pulled Edgar closer to himself, as if he knew that he considered running away, fleeing from his own bed and flat.
How should he resolve this without it being... awkward?

Eventually, he decided he had enough and wiggled out of Tommy's arms, who, surprisingly, stayed asleep. Edgar thought the sight was sweet, but he was hungry and wanted to get out for a bit. Hopefully Tommy wouldn't be too mad at him for leaving him behind.
He went back into the kitchen to make himself tea. Edgar was strangely cold, and wanted something to warm him up. Hopefully Alan didn’t catch a disease that he had picked up yesterday. Maybe he was just exhausted.

For once, the silence didn’t feel bad. Maybe it was the comfort of knowing that he wasn’t alone, that he could go back to bed and make himself a home in Tommy’s arms, and would probably even be welcomed there. He chuckled. What a thought.

Edgar hummed while he waited for the water to boil. His mind started to wander. He wondered what Tommy would do next. Would he give up because of his passiveness? Or would he try again and again until he reciprocated? Edgar didn't push him away yesterday, and he slowly began to regret it. When had he become so weak to his own desires? Usually he would say he had himself under control, but with Tommy? All of it gone, in the blink of an eye.
He was definitely not proud of himself for that.

A hand on his shoulder made him flinch. Speaking of the devil, Tommy had appeared next to him, seemingly out of nowhere. “Everything alright?”
Edgar nodded slowly. “Yes, yes of course, I was just in thought.” “Excuse me, but every time you are in thought you seem to distance yourself from me afterwards, so I decided to bring you back before you come to any conclusions. And the water's boiling.” He was right, the kettle was whistling almost aggressively, as if it was angry about being forgotten. It must have woken Tommy up. “Damn it”, he swore. “You want some tea as well?”

“Yes, why not.” Tommy's hand was still on his shoulder, and Edgar's scar started to itch, which it really shouldn't. “Could you please take your hand off?”
The man next to him hesitated. “Why all of a sudden?” “I don't want it there?” “You didn't have a problem with it yesterday.” “I wasn't the one asking you to come to me”, he tried to defend himself. “You didn't say no.” “Would you not have done it if I did?” “Of course not.”

Edgar felt like Tommy was cornering him there, he could scream. “Listen, I just... Not right now, okay? I need some space, and you're too close.” Finally, the hand was gone. “Is this because of me?” “No”, he answered truthfully. “Sometimes I... I need to be left alone, okay? It's not because of you.”

Tommy still didn't seem convinced, but accepted his explanation with a muttered “alright” before he sat down at the table. Edgar got them both a cup and he didn't believe many people could say about themselves that they had enjoyed a cup of morning tea with the head of the Peaky Blinders, looking all dishevelled freshly out of bed. It was strangely domestic.

“You go to work today?” Edgar nodded. “Of course. I have two funerals to attend to. At least two I know about.” “Edgar?” “Yes?” “Would you do me a favour?” He held back a sigh. “Depends.” “Would you stay away from Campbell?”

Edgar frowned. “The policeman from Belfast?” “Exactly.” “Why’s that?” “You were right, people talk, and they seem to have noticed that you and your brother are involved with the Shelbys.” “How could they not”, Edgar muttered. He knew that people talked, but until now it had never been a topic, so he tried not to worry too much about it. People talked about a lot.

“The thing is”, Tommy proceeded to explain, “they think you are involved with the Peaky Blinders, and I think word got to Campbell. I'm worried he might try to get to you somehow.” “Tommy, if this is about the guns, I promised I wouldn't tell on you.” “It's not only about that.”
It was concern for his safety, Edgar realised in that moment. He smiled softly. “I’m starting to think you worry too much about me, Tommy.” “No, you don't understand. Don't laugh this off, I'm trying to reassure that you stay unharmed.” “Why would they?” “Because they want to use it against me.”
His heartbeat became a little faster. Was that it? For a moment, he thought it was Tommy’s way of saying “sorry for endangering you just because you are seen with me”, but he dismissed it immediately. Tommy had nothing to apologise for.

“I will stay away, don't worry about me. And I promise to look after Finn if necessary.” He hadn't told him so yesterday, but how could he say no to that? Edgar didn't need to confirm that yes of course he would take Finn in, would raise him, that he would be there for him until he was old enough to go his own ways and beyond that if he wanted him to.

Now it was Tommy's face that softened, and Edgar's heart melted in his chest. His scar itched even more. What was going on? “Good. Then I'm glad.”
They finished their little tea time in silence, and Tommy went to get dressed while Edgar tried to sort out whatever it was that was going on in his head. He didn't remember romance or whatever exactly this was to be so stressful.

He was so torn. There was no other way to describe it. Edgar wasn't sure how he felt, he didn't know what he wanted, and he didn't know what Tommy felt or wanted. If there was one thing he could not deal with very well it was uncertainty. It made him loose his temper, and Edgar hated to be the person that lashed out because of something minor.

“What is it with you today?”, Tommy sighed. He huffed. As if that wasn't obvious. What, did he think they would carry on as normal after sleeping in each other's arms? Maybe, maybe he really thought that. Neither of them spoke about it, after all. “I'm alright”, he reassured him yet again. “I'll make it through the day.” “If you say so. When will you come home tonight?”

Edgar stopped. “Why do you ask?” “So I don't wait in front of your door for half the night again.”
He blinked. “What?” “You are so worried about your neighbour, after all.” “You’ll come again tonight?” “If you want to. We could also go to mine, if you would prefer that.” “I...” Edgar struggled for words. “I don't want you to come here because you feel like you have to.” “I know I don't have to. I want to.” “But why?”
And that man dared to smirk at him. Fucking smirk. “Didn't you say it yourself? I should admit my own desires?”

Edgar opened his mouth, then closed it again. “If you stand in front of my door tonight, I will turn around and sleep at John's.” Tommy nodded. “Alright. Understood.”

Maybe Edgar should shovel his own grave right away, because he felt like if this was going to go on for much longer, he would jump out of a window some of these days.

 

Edgar made his round around the graveyard, said hello to the one or the other, dug three graves and had a lot of time to think during.

He had to resolve his situation with Tommy somehow, he was aware of that. The main problem were the unclearness of their possibilities. Was it even possible for them to have a relationship? After the debacle with his former lover he would have said no. Edgar could never be in a relationship, it just wasn't possible. The secrecy and social judgement (keeping aside any legal issues that could come up) were too overbearing and harmful to maintain a relationship.

However, with Tommy, he had some hope that it might be different. They could move in together, their own place, where they could exchange intimacy away from the prying eyes of others. And even if they saw them together, had their suspicions, who would dare to say a word? And even if they did, which copper would actually go arrest them? Besides Campbell, Edgar doubted that they would find a single one that would be willing to step in between the Shelbys.
It sounded almost to good to be true.

Another problem was how conflicted Edgar’s own feelings were. It wasn’t like he wanted it to be this way, he would actually prefer it if he was either scared or hopelessly swooning, but not both at the same time. Yet. That was exactly the situation that he was in right now.

What was he scared of? The worst thing Tommy could do was break his heart, he got over that before, how should it be different?

He came to the conclusion that it shouldn’t. It shouldn’t feel different, yet it somehow did, like this was the one and only chance he got to live a happy life. Rationally, he knew this was not true, but it didn’t calm the uncomfortable stinging in his chest. He could feel his heart tightening, so much that it hurt.
If Edgar would have had the possibility of running away, he was not sure if he would stay anymore. He could leave everything behind, go to America and start a new life, away from this godforsaken place with all its bad memories and Tommy.

That didn’t feel like the right thing to do either.

 

The day went by strangely quiet. So did the next. And everything overall was just strange and quiet and Edgar might want to scream.
Alan got better, and had made himself a home at John’s. His children slowly became less weary of them, and Katie even said hello when she saw Edgar now, which made his day a whole lot better. Tommy did not try to talk to him anymore, but when you wanted to believe the rumours, then he had enough going on right now.

Things changed, however, when he was once again dragged into his making involuntarily.

It had started of as a pretty normal day at work when suddenly, he saw a group of policemen walking around with shovels. Edgar frowned at the odd picture, but then he remembered.

Somebody must have told them. But who?
He for sure hoped Tommy didn’t think it was him.

For a moment he considered saying something, asking them what they are doing, but when he spotted Campbell, he decided he was better off pretending that he hadn’t even noticed them, and turned back to his work. Edgar definitely overestimated his luck.
“Are you Mr Murphy?”

He stopped in his tracks and held back a sigh. “That is right.” “You are the gravedigger here, is that correct?”
Edgar now stood upright. He was taller than Campbell, without a doubt, but the man had these eagle eyes… Much like Polly, but they lacked every bit of warmth behind them. “That is correct, sir.” “Good. I wanted to ask you a few questions about the grave of Daniel Owen.”
The grave of Danny Owen. It all started and ended there.

Edgar did his best to keep his face under control. He could do this, would do this. Forgiveness comes later. “Anything you want to know.”
The copper nodded shortly. “You have dug the grave.” “I did, yes.” “By who’s wish?” “The Shelbys, if I remember correctly.” “And it didn’t occur to you that the depth of the grave was odd?”

Edgar shrugged. “I found it a bit odd, yes, but it is not my job to question the depth of a grave. I am sure there are enough reasons why someone would want something like that.” “And where you present at the funeral?” “No. I was requested to not come, they wanted to do the ceremony on their own.” “Is that unusual?” “Not particularly, no. Happens often enough.”

Campbell frowned, but Edgar knew that he didn’t slip up. There was nothing he could accuse him of, he was a simple man that did his job. “Have you ever had any… relations with the Shelbys before?” “In which way?” “Professionally and personally.” “No.” “And where you aware that there are guns buried in the grave?”

Now Edgar frowned. “What guns?” “The guns that were stolen, I am sure you have heard.” “No, how should I? The people are dead, I usually don’t dig them back up to see how they are doing.” He couldn’t prove anything, and Edgar would be damned to go to jail over this.”
Campbell gave a defeated sigh. “Well, thank you for your answers, Mr Murphy.” “No problem, sir.”

He went back to work, but the presence of the man still seemed to haunt him, his men working on digging out the guns just a few rows over. At some point the barmaid, that beautiful blond woman from the Garrison came towards them. Why was she talking to Campbell? It seemed a bit odd to Edgar.

None of this was his business, he decided, hurried up to finish his work and get home afterwards, but as soon as he got there, he saw someone sitting in front of his door.
“Arthur?”

Chapter 15: Honesty (breaks hearts)

Summary:

Edgar and Arthur talk. Edgar tells things he hasn't told before. They both face Tommy. Tommy wants Edgar to stay. He doesn't.

Notes:

Hello friends and enemies,
welcome back to another chapter! I am very excited for this one, we're getting some action
Thanks to everybody for leaving kudos and comments.

TW! discussion of suicide

Enjoy!

If he remembered correctly, the last time they saw each other, things didn’t end on good terms. Edgar would have assumed Arthur was still angry at him, but right now, the oldest Shelby brother looked more like a kicked puppy than his usual furious self. He was not even going to ask how he knew where Edgar lived.

“Are you alright?” “Sorry if it’s inconvenient for you, but I didn’t know where else to go to.” “It’s alright, don’t worry. Do you want to come in?”

Arthur nodded and got up from the floor. Maybe Edgar should give the Shelbys the second key. Something must have gone wrong, he was sure. For a moment, he had the horrifying suspicion that something had happened to Tommy, but then it wouldn’t just be Arthur here, wouldn’t it?

Edgar gestured towards the kitchen table. “Sit down, I’ll make us some tea.”

He remembered how Arthur had acted at the dinner, this loud and boisterous man who wasn’t shy to start a fight, who cared about his family and was a passionate Peaky Blinder. The Arthur he was facing right now was neither of those things, small and vulnerable, looking more like a boy who wanted to hide himself away. Why he would want Edgar of all people to see him in this position was a mystery to him.

I didn’t know where else to go.

Who was he to turn someone away who obviously needed help? Besides, this would probably turn into something more regular if he would ever become part of the Shelby family.

Edgar needed to concentrate really hard to not bite himself the moment he thought that.

“So.” He sat down in front of Arthur, pushing a cup towards him. “You don’t have to tell me anything, if you don’t want to. I just want you to know that you can, if you want to.” “Promise me you won’t tell Tommy.” “I won’t Arthur. Promise.”

Arthur started fidgeting with his hands. “You were all right. About dad. He didn’t change a bit.” He paused. “He… He said we would start our own business in America, and I gave him money for it. But… He left. Again. And I didn’t tell anyone, I didn’t ask Tommy and just took the money and now… I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I could ever look him in the eye again.”

Edgar sighed. “Arthur. I understand you’re upset, you made a mistake, but… It’s just money. They won’t abandon you, no money is worth that.” “It’s not… They trusted me, Edgar, and I took that and… threw it away because I wanted… I don’t even know.” “He took advantage of you, Arthur. You wanted him to approve of you, to be proud of you, there’s nothing wrong with that. He saw what you were willing to do, and he took the opportunity. He alone is to blame for that, not you.” “No. I gave him the money, I believed him. That was my decision, and my fault.” He nodded. “You’re not wrong there. Don’t be too hard on yourself, either way.”

Suddenly, Arthur took off his jacket. Edgar blinked. “Arthur…” “Let me show you.” He started unbuttoning his shirt and he just wanted to stop him when he saw the marks around his neck.

Oh.

“I tried, just an hour ago. The rope snapped. I just… I was so ashamed, and I didn’t know what to do, so… I thought about it a lot lately. It scares me.”

Edgar stared at the rope burns and he wanted to cry because never in his life had he resonated with something so much. They seemed to be very different people on the outside, but he believed nobody, not even Alan, would understand him as well as Arthur did right now. He chuckled, and Arthur stared at him like he was a madman. Maybe he was. But they both were, so that was okay.

“I tried it twice”, he confessed, and wiped a tear out of his eyes. “I know how it feels, when you’re in this really dark place and all you see is the end. It makes you feel this peace, or not? You can’t go wrong with death, after all.” Now they both looked at each other, and the previously tense atmosphere suddenly became more relaxed when Arthur leaned back. “Why did you do it?” “Well…” He swallowed to not start crying more. “First time I was only ten.”

Arthur blinked, shock written all over his face. Edgar could only smile. In reality, he was horrified. Not even Alan knew this, yet it felt right to be open and honest. “My mother had told me to go to sleep next to her. When I woke up, she was dead. I was so devastated, I took all the medication next to her bed and laid down next to her, but I cried so much I threw it all up again. It’s the only reason I survived, I think. Second time was after my boyfriend left me. It felt like the end, like the ultimate prove that nobody would ever love me. So I did it again. I left the house and I went to the woods with Alan’s pain medication and I started taking them.” Now he really was crying.

“You know what stopped me? A butterfly landed on my knee. A fucking butterfly, and I sat there and it was like I regained conscious because all I could think was “What the fuck am I doing here?”. For fuck’s sake, I was about to leave my baby brother behind, alone. Was definitely one of the worst moment of my life.” He sniffed, his hands had started to shake halfway through his speech. “In these moment, I don't think we see left or right. It’s like you’re all doing it automatically. The truth is, we have enough things that should keep us here. I know it’s hard, and that saying “It’ll all get better” doesn’t do anything, but… think of your family. Think of Finn, the person who would least understand it. I promise you they would rather have a difficult brother than a dead one. And it’s not… bad to have these thoughts, I still have them from time to time. It’s just important that if we have them… we stay wary about the things we do, so we don't hurt ourselves or the people around us.”

Arthur stared into space. “How do you do this?” “Do what?” “Talk. How can you talk about this so easily?” “It's not easy for me either. I have never told anyone this.” “And you're telling me?” Edgar shrugged. “I don't want to trouble people, but I think in your case you benefit more from my honesty than it does harm, so... it's okay. Took a lot of time, though. Alan hated me when he was a kid. At some point, we realised that we needed to be honest to each other, or it would kill us. I thought he didn't have secrets though, until... well, after what happened with the Lees.”

Arthur sighed, now targeting the ceiling. “I need to tell them.” “I know.” “I… I can’t face them alone.” “Do you want me to come with you?” There was some sort of relief on his face. “You would?” “If you want me to, yes.” He really seemed to consider it, but then huffed. “It's stupid, I'm not a little boy.” “It's not stupid.” “Only if you want to.” “Of course. Whenever you're ready.”

 

Edgar was a little proud of himself. While concern for Arthur's wellbeing was still lingering in the back of his mind, he knew to look out for him now and he thought he handled the situation pretty well. He was no expert, after all, but any immediate disasters were prevented, and that was enough for now. Arthur was still fidgeting on their way to the Shelby home, but already seemed more calm and collected opposed to the hot mess he had been when he had arrived.

They had just arrived when the door was opened suddenly and they stood in front of a pissed off-looking Tommy. “There you are.”

He scanned Arthur up and down with an icy expression. “I think you have something to tell us. And...” His eyes wandered over to Edgar. “You?” “Yes. Me.” “We, we have to talk too.” Edgar frowned. “What did I do?” “Oh, we're going to talk about that. We're going to have a lengthy discussion about you and how much your promises mean.” He raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me?” “No, we're not doing it like this, we're going to sit down, face to face, and you will stop running away from me!” Tommy's voice had become louder and louder until he shouted at him.

“For goodness's sake, Tommy”, Polly appeared behind him. “Stop fussing.” Now she looked back and forth between Arthur and Edgar, and for a moment her glance alone showed how exhausted she was. “Come in, both of you. And you, you calm yourself down, or I will do this alone.” Edgar was uncomfortable, to say the least. Tommy was mad at him, and he didn't know why, but he promised Arthur, and he couldn't ditch him now.

So, he took a deep breathe, and went by him without looking at him twice. He wanted to sit down next to Arthur, but Tommy caught his arm. “I want to do this without you.” “No.” “No?” “I promised Arthur I would be there, so I will.” Tommy blinked, and Edgar could see him gritting his teeth. “This is business.” “I know what he did, there's not much to add, I believe.” “You know?” “He told me.” “He... Arthur!”

Arthur had just opened his mouth, but Edgar was quicker to defend him. “Don't you dare go at him for that, now. You came to me before to ask for advice in business, it's not that different.” “You did what?”, Polly asked and... oh. That certainly didn't sound like she knew that before.

“It was nothing confidential”, Tommy tried to talk himself out. “Just a decision I needed to make.” “This is not confidential either”, Edgar argued. “Well, not anymore, at least.” Edgar had had a range of different feelings towards Tommy, but annoyance was never one of them. Until now. “Can we please move on? You can curse me as much as you want later, but I think we should resolve this issue first.” “I agree”, Polly added, much calmer than Tommy. At least she didn't seem mad at him. If that were the case, Edgar wasn't sure if he would make it out alive. He could deal with Tommy's wrath, he was sure.

While the three of them talked about Arthur's misstep, he stayed in the background. It was not his discussion, he was only here to ensure that Arthur's mind didn't take too much of a hit. He liked to think it did help. It was still Polly who then changed the topic to him.

“You saw the police at the graveyard today, Edgar?” And now, it seemed clear. That was why Tommy was angry. Really?

“I did.” “Edgar.” Tommy said it as a warning, but Polly didn't let him. “I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me that you did not go to the coppers.” “I did not. I promised I wouldn't tell, and I didn't.”

The woman was staring right into his soul, but Edgar didn't back down, not this time. He had nothing to hide. Eventually, she nodded. “I believe you.” “When it wasn't you, who did?”, Tommy interrupted them. Edgar rolled his eyes. “I don't know, Tommy, who else did you tell about the great plan?” “I never told you, you spied on us!” “I did, and? You forgave me, that is on you. Don't push this on me.” “First, you let me to you, then you push me away and suddenly, the coppers know where the guns are. Don't you think this is a little suspicious?” Was that supposed to be his motive? Shame? Resentment? But who else should have snitched on them? Edgar remembered the scene at the graveyard. The coppers, Campbell... The barmaid.

Why would a barmaid that was working at the Garrison, a pub notoriously known for it's Peaky Blinder-customers, talk to the policeman from Belfast who tried to find some stolen guns? There was another truth behind it, behind her relationship with the police, and possibly her relationship with Tommy. She looked exactly like the type of woman that Tommy would go after.

He didn't want it to be true.

“Tommy? Who else did you tell?” “Why?” “Are you talkative when you're drunk? Or do you just have a thing for pretty barmaids?” His expression froze.

Polly was on edge now too. “What do you mean with that?” “The barmaid, from the Garrison. I saw her talking to Campbell, at the graveyard. They seem to know each other quite well.” Tommy leaned back in his chair, completely expressionless now. “I don't want to accuse her of anything. All I want to say is that I have no reason to rat you out, Tommy. She might have. Are we done now? Because I would like to go home now.” “I want to talk alone with you.” “Tommy, I'm tired.” But he wouldn't let himself be shaken off this time. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”

He registered how Polly nodded at Arthur and both left the room to give them some privacy.

This was possibly going to be one of the hardest things Edgar ever had to do.

“What do you want from me, Tommy?”

The question felt so final, all-deciding. Tommy looked at him for a long moment.

“I fucked the barmaid.”

Edgar’s heart dropped before it shattered into a million pieces.

He was so stupid. He had been so stupid to believe Tommy could ever feel like this for him.

A strange kind of resignation hit him. Somehow he had expected an outcome like this. “Tommy, why are you telling me this?” “I did it so see if this was all that I wanted. It's not. Even when I was with her, all I could think about was you.” “Tommy...” “I want you.”

He leaned closer and took his hand. “I want you, I need you, Edgar. Every minute that I'm not with you drives me more towards insanity, and I know that I...” “Tommy, stop it.” “What?” “I don't want to hear it.” Edgar pulled his hand away. “But I want you, only you.” “Well, I'm sorry the barmaid wasn't good enough for you. You should have been happy with what you got.” “Edgar.”

Tommy sounded like he was about to panic when Edgar got up. He grabbed his arm again, even harder than before. “Tommy, let me go.” “No! Don’t run away from me.”

Edgar peeled his hand away. “I should go. It's better this way. You clearly don't trust me, Tommy, and you should really find someone who you can.” “I thought you turned against me. But you know what? Even if you did, even if you would, I would still forgive you.” He felt like he was about to pass out. This was not right. Tommy shouldn’t cling to him this way, like he was drowning.

“What?” “You could have told me it was you, I was still ready to forgive you, because I would rather have you around me knowing you’re a traitor than not at all.” He shook his head. “Tommy... You know that’s not... I really should go.” “So that's it? You leave and we'll never talk again?” “I'm sure we'll talk again. Let me... give me some time, okay? Let me think about it before.”

For a second, he looked hopeful again. “That's not a no.” “I suppose not.” Even if it really should be. “Can I kiss you? Only this once?” He swallowed, and let out a shaky breathe. Was it from holding back a cry or something else? He wasn’t sure. “I'll see you around, Tommy.”

Edgar fled the scene before he could hear another word. And all he could think of was Tommy, Tommy, Tommy.

Notes:

screaming crying throwing up
blasting Fancy Shoes by The Walters because it's them!!! People, it's Tommy and Edgar, and I reject every other reality

Chapter 16: One is an accident, two is a murder

Summary:

Edgar is not sure if he can or wants to forgive Tommy. He and Alan talk about it. They get invited to a family meeting for the first time. Edgar sides with Tommy, and it escalates from there.

Notes:

NEW CHAPTER!
Please excuse all my weird misstypos, but I really want to post this right now!
Thank you for kudos and comments!
Enjoy!

Falling asleep was hard these days, but waking up was even harder.

It had been some time since he felt this way. Edgar was tired, drained and exhausted, but at night, he couldn't find peace to rest properly. He suspected that he had been like this before and that he just hadn't recognised the signs.

Edgar would lie awake for hours, but he was still staring at the ceiling. He had to go to work, he had things to do. It shouldn't be so hard to get up. Then why wasn't he moving?

Sometimes, he thought he was close to understanding what was going on, but in the next moment, all clearance disappeared into thin air and he was left with his grief and without answer.

Edgar was unsure if Tommy had grasped how much he had hurt him, but how could he expect him to understand if he himself didn’t?

He knew he needed to talk to someone. It would help, he could cry to Alan, John or hell, even Arthur or Polly. He didn't dare open his mouth.

No matter how discouraged he felt, he couldn't give up now. Instead, Edgar forced himself to carry on, to get out of bed and go through his day. Visiting his mother became a daily occurrence now. He liked to think he would be proud of him, and remind him he didn’t have to figure out everything just now. One day at a time, with the only goal being surviving.

The Shelby's didn't make it any easier. While they kept their distance, he still felt like they were hovering over him, like a shadow. In all honesty, he appreciated the space he got, but refused to stop visiting Alan. Now that his baby brother was basically living with John now things had changed around the house. It was strange. Edgar was not sure yet if he liked it.

Maybe John had told him about what happened, maybe he picked it up himself, but one day, Alan decided he had ignored Edgar's quiet suffering long enough.

“Okay, I understand, you don't want to talk, but seriously, I'm worried about you. So, what happened?”

Edgar shrugged. John was not in the room with them, but he knew that he wasn't far. Maybe he was listening at the door. “I don't know what to tell you.” “Try it. Doesn't have to make sense.”

He sighed. With Alan it was easier, to let himself show how he really felt, the tired eyes, his scar that he was more aware of than usually, his fingers that started to loose grip.

“You were right. He does want to fuck me.”

Alan frowned. “So? Did you?” “You know I wouldn't.” “Yes, with any other person, I would know. With Tommy, I wasn't so sure.” Because Tommy and him were so different, right? Because they had something special.

“No, we didn't. We shared a bed, if that matters.” He took a deep breath. His face became hotter, and his skin felt too tight. “He slept with a woman. I know I have no right to be upset over what he did. Nether the less, I am. I don't think it's okay to sleep with people as an experiment to see if all I want is sex.” “Wait”, Alan interrupted him, “do I get this right, he slept with a woman to see if all he wanted from you is sex?”

Edgar nodded. “It's what he told me. Apparently, he doesn't, and then he told me he wanted me, over and over. It was almost like he was loosing it. Told me he would go insane without me.”

Alan slowly raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure we're talking about Tommy? As in the cold gangster of Birmingham?” “I don't... I mean, yes. I know it sounds strange, but I swear it was like that. It was like you flipped a switch. Maybe he has gone mad.”

His brother stared at him for a moment, before he broke out in loud laughter. Edgar frowned at his behaviour. He didn't see anything funny about the whole ordeal, yet Alan was struggling to breathe. Was everybody around him going insane? Or was it him?

“I swear to fucking god”, Alan got out after some struggling. “You, Edgar, are something else.” “I don't get what is so funny!” “Out of all people in this world, you were the one that bewitched Tommy Shelby to the point where he gets so desperate to be with you he would beg you on his knees to take him. And you still think you're too ugly for everyone.” “But it doesn't make any sense! Why would he want to be with me?” “I don't know, I never thought about the perks of dating you, you’re my brother, for fuck’s sake! Go ask him.” “No I won't!”, Edgar protested. “He can beg as much as he wants, he used a poor woman for his gain or whatever and hurt me in the process. If he likes me so much, he will have to be patient.” “Like?”

Alan chuckled. “Oh Edgar, that man doesn't like you. He's obsessed with you.” Edgar scoffed at that. “Not sure if I prefer that”, he muttered. “Oh, come one. Let him spoil you a little bit, you deserve it.” “Stop making fun of me.” “You're no fun.”

Edgar ended up sleeping on John's couch. After some back and forth about him not wanting to cause any inconveniences and bot Alan and John reassuring him a dozen times that no, he's not a burden, he's more than welcome to stay, but it wasn't until his brother shouted at him that he was an idiot and that it was no wonder nobody cared to stay if he didn't let people be around him. Of course Edgar knew he was right, but Alan had the habit of not considering his choice of words when he was angry. Judging by John's look, they didn't fight a lot yet, otherwise he wouldn't have looked so shocked to find out how downright cruel Alan could be when he was angry enough.

In that regard he was just like their father.

Edgar would forgive him over and over again.

Nobody is perfect, after all.

It was exactly that what he thought about when he lied awake that night. Forgiveness.

He knew he would always forgive Alan, no matter what. He had always forgiven mother, although he was still unsure if there was anything she did that required forgiveness from his side. Saying that he forgave his father was maybe a little bit exaggerated, but as he got older, he understood that his father also had his problems, and let his anger out in the worst possible way. And he wasn't all bad. There were moments, rare, but still, where it was almost peaceful, sitting next to him, watching him drink and memorising the words of all the songs that he sung when he was feeling particularly melancholic. Edgar taught them to Alan, and they both still sang them sometimes when they felt like it.

So, Edgar was a forgiving person, the harmony around him always more important than his own boundaries and comfort, which wasn't ideal, but it worked for him.

He knew he had already forgiven Tommy, even if he wanted to stay angry at him.

 

Edgar slept better that night. It would have been good, hadn't he been woken up by a hand that shook his shoulder. “Wake up, Edgar!”

He blinked. “What?” “Tommy's here. It's time.”

A thousand things went through his head in that moment. Tommy was here? And it was time...?

“Time for what?” “Don't fucking know, but we're going to find out. Come on, up, family meeting, we're invited.”

Edgar sat up, and caught the eyes of Tommy and John. Tommy seemed... indifferent, was one way to describe it. He knew he must look terrible, still, even with a night's sleep.

Alan clapped next to his face, and as a response, Edgar flinched. “Wake up, princess, we don't have time for this! You usually have so much energy to move, where is that now, huh? Andiamo!” “I'm coming”, Edgar grumbled.

John snickered. “You have no mercy with him, do you?” “Why should I? Your brother didn't have mercy for us either.” “And where did the Italian come from?” “Ha, where do you think! Edgar has a thing for Italians.” “Shut up, I don't”, he defended himself half-heartedly. It was too early for this. “You totally do.” “I dated one Italian, so stop spreading lies about me you ignorant bitch.” Alan gasped. “You take that back!” “Why would I? You called me enough yesterday.” “Because it's true!” “And I don't want to hear it, so shut it!”

Alan stared at him, stunned, and Edgar wasn't sure if getting snappy was the right decision.

His brother didn't immediately scream back, which meant that he wasn't angry. Even if he annoyed him, it wasn't meant to be another stab following the ones yesterday.

“Are you sure you're alright?”

A moment or two there was quiet, until Edgar slowly nodded. “I guess so, yes. I have been worse before.” The sleepless nights started to get on his nerve and affect his mood, which arguably was a problem. He really needed to get a grip. “I apologise. Let's go.”

 

Tommy and John murmured to themselves for the majority of the time, actively excluding Edgar and Alan, who followed them without speaking another word to each other. He would have liked to say something, to clear things up, but he had the feeling that everything he would say now would only make things worse.

To Edgar, it seemed bizarre that they were about to take part in a Shelby family meeting. Hell, John and Alan were a thing for maybe a month, while he and Tommy... Well, he didn't have any ties to the family that would justify such a thing. Or they had decided that the little adventure that was John's and Alan's relationship was something more serious than just that.

Edgar wondered if Alan wanted to have a wedding. Of course not official, but maybe a little get-together, just for them. Play-pretend, but still.

He knew he would like to have that.

 

There were more people than expected. Well, not that many, but he met Charlie and Curly, who were nice, as far as he could tell. They shook hands, and Tommy took over soon.

“Right. I brought you all here today”, he looked around, and he couldn’t help but feeling way too included in this, “because this is the day we replace Billy Kimber

Edgar thought he had misheard.

He had heard of Kimber before, yes, but he had never cared much. Bidding and horse races were not exactly his cup of tea, but now, he was listening to Tommy's plan on overthrowing and overtaking said man's business. And he was talking about respect.

“Oh mother, please don't cry for me. I am a fool, and I did this to myself”, he thought but stayed quiet, while Alan was listening with great interest. Even if he wouldn't take any part in it, he fit right into the whole Shelby picture.

When Polly said she wanted to bring in a newcomer, he expected a lot, but not a young woman with a bundle in her arms. Edgar recognised her as the only member of the family he hadn't met yet: Ada Shelby, and seemingly, her child.

Alan was swept of his feet in an instance.

“We named him Karl. After Karl Marx.”

Edgar chuckled to himself. He could sympathise with a communist. Maybe not with Karl Marx, but definitely with the efforts to solve the unfairness of social standings and distribution of wealth. He had a feeling they would get along.

When Arthur took over little Karl, she turned towards him. “You must be Edgar, then.” “I am. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss.” “Please, call me Ada. I have heard a lot about you.” “Did you?” “Of course, since you seem to be the only one Tommy actually listens to.”

Edgar was caught off guard by that. “Oh, does he now?” “Don't look so surprised, Polly told me all about it. I'm glad you're here. And your brother too. John looks happy. We could use some of that in our family.”

The scene in front of him looked so awfully domestic, Alan was cooing at the baby in Arthur’s arms, and for possibly the first time in Edgar’s life family was not something scary.

Oh, if she would know.

Nether the less, he smiled. “I am still not sure what I'm doing here, but I'm sure there's a reason.”

 

Said reason would come to light only a few hours later, when it became clear that they were sat up. The Lee's, who Tommy had somehow gotten on board with the whole operation, where at the Derby , while Kimber and his men were on their way to Birmingham.

They had to fight alone.

He was almost terrified of himself when he made the decision.

Tommy had other plans for him. He didn’t even ask Edgar if he would take part in their fight, if he was willing to do this for him. All he asked was: “If we die, would you do the honour to bury us? All next to each other.”

Edgar frowned at him, trying to keep his hands from shaking. “Of course. If you promise to do the same for me.” “What are you talking about?” “I'll come with, of course.”

Tommy stared at him, then said a firm: “No.” “You think I let you go alone?” “No. You'll stay with Polly.” “No, Alan will stay with Polly. You'll need every man you have, Tommy. Let me come.” “Do you even know how to shoot?”, Arthur threw in the question.

Edgar scoffed. “I know how to shoot just fine.”

It was quiet. Then, John handed him a gun.

“Edgar”, Tommy wanted to protest, but he didn't let him. “I will go with you.”

He knew it was unfair when he lied his hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry  about me. I’ll be fine.”

Edgar ignored the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach that he attributed to him being nervous about holding a gun after such a long time. It was nothing. It was probably nothing to worry about.

When he hugged his brother, it felt too much like a goodbye. “If you die, I will kill you”, Alan muttered in his ear and clang more into his shirt. Edgar chuckled and kissed the top of his head. “Don’t worry, Alan. I’ll be fine.”

He was not sure if he believed himself.

Tommy held something out for him. It was a cap.

“So you blend in with us. If only for now.”

He stared at his hand, then at Tommy, before he took the cap from his hands. “Thank you.” “You’re family now, aren’t you? Hope it’s not too stupid for you.” “I’m sure it’s good enough for me.” Edgar didn’t have time to think about the implications, that Tommy had prepared a cap for him to take. He didn’t think a lot at all, to be honest.

 

“Make sure you owe no one, Edgar. Only gets you into trouble.”

It was probably the only advice his father had ever given him that had been somewhat helpful. Edgar had kept it in mind when he got his own job, bought his own flat for a little fortune, every time he talked to people he tried to be as open as possible, to not owe anyone.

It was also what came to his mind now he was standing side by side with the Shelbys, against a number of men that was too large for them to have a chance at beating them. He was not entirely sure why, but he wanted to reach out and touch Tommy, stroke over the back of his hand, a quiet reassurance that he was here, he was here with him and he wouldn’t leave.

Edgar had never seen himself as a very brave person, but he was starting to think that maybe his time has come. He wished he could help more, differently, he wished he knew what any of this was about, but reality is, he never had had the desire to learn about Tommy’s doings, and now he couldn’t help him. Instead, he stood there, stoically, and it was his first war and possibly his last. The gun felt too heavy in his hands.

He knew the bullet was coming before it was fired. Danny jumped forward, so did Edgar, doing anything to get between Tommy and death itself.

He felt the metal digging into his skin before he heard it.

He exhaled.  

One is an accident.

There were two more shots

Two makes a murder.

Somebody lied an arm around him.

“Edgar?”

Notes:

Am I happy with this?
no
Did I rush it?
Absolutely.
Do I still love it?
Y E S

Chapter 17: I'm right here. You won't die.

Summary:

Edgar is patched up again, and says some things he will regret later. Tommy stays by his side the whole time.

Notes:

Fucking finally!!!
I struggled with this chapter my god. And I still feel like I'm moving wayyy too fast.
Anyways, thank you all for Kudos and comments, I appreciate them a lot, they keep my motivation up and feed into my need for constant approval.
Please excuse any typos, enjoy this chapter!

“Hm?”

Edgar turned towards his brother who sat on the floor of the small kitchen. “Why do you talk to me? You don’t talk to father, which I get because I hate him, but you don’t talk to anyone else either. So why me?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It would be easier if I could talk to people, but most of the time I feel like I can’t.” “If you would talk to father, maybe he would be less mad at you.”

He chuckled. “I don’t think anything could make him less mad at me.” “I hate him. I hope he chokes in his sleep and dies.” He let out a sigh at his brother’s words. “You shouldn’t which death upon others.” “Oh yeah? Well, he’s different.” “It doesn’t get you anywhere to be hateful.” “It didn’t help you to be kind.”

Edgar bit his lip. “I think it did. It makes him feel bad.” “Doesn’t help you of you’re blue already.” “I just don’t like to be violent. It’s like I’m him, I don’t want to be like him, okay? Maybe… Maybe one day, someone will be kind to me back.”

Alan was quiet for a bit, before he added: “I’m sorry. That I’m not kind to you. It just makes me angry that you don’t defend yourself.” “I know. You don’t have to be sorry.” He turned around to where his brother was leaning against the cabinet and bent down to kiss him on the forehead. “I know you don’t mean it. And I still think you have a good heart.”

His brother smiled.

“Edgar?”

“Yes?”

 

“Edgar, please say something.”

Tommy’s voice was but a whisper next to his ear, but it was enough to remind him where he was.

“Come on, we have to get that bullet out of you.”

The wound felt like it was set on fire, the bullet burning through everything that was in its way, no matter if it was skin, muscle or bone.

“Edgar, please.”

He wanted to say something, anything, to assure him that yes, he is here, he can hear him, but all he got out was a pained groan. Shouldn't he feel panic? This could be his death. Edgar could die.

Yet it wasn't panic he felt. Only dread and pain.

“I know”, Tommy spoke in a calming voice while he dragged him along. Edgar held his breath, trying to ease the burning sensation, but it didn't hep much. “Breathe, Edgar, you have to breathe.” “Tommy”, he finally got out through gritted teeth. “Yes, I know it hurts, but you'll have to be a big boy now.”

Edgar didn't want to be a big boy. All he wanted right now was to be held.

The world was turning around him, and the more he tried to focus the worse it got. People were dragging him, Tommy was still talking to him, lowly. Edgar didn't hear a word, or maybe he just didn't understand it, but it didn't matter. His voice alone was soothing, and his heartbeat slowed again. Or maybe he was dying. Was he dying?

One reason why Edgar was not afraid of god was that he couldn't imagine anyone judging him more than himself. If he would have to decide if he were to go to heaven or hell, he wouldn't think twice about jumping right into the devil's arms. And wasn't god supposed to be forgiving? Fucking nonsense.

He was, however, a little afraid of dying. The ending of it all. What if it didn’t matter at all, in the end, who he was, what he did, how he lived? Edgar wasn’t sure if that was the most peaceful or the most terrifying ending of it all.

Part of his conscious finally returned to him when they manoeuvred him on a table. Edgar believed he was at the Garrison. It was strange, seeing it so empty. Almost peaceful.

However, nothing that was happening around him was peaceful in any way. When the priest, Jeremiah, he believed was his name, took a blade to his wound, he let out a pained scream.

Suddenly, calling somebody a useless idiot over a missed bullet didn’t seem all that cruel anymore.

Tommy grabbed his hand. “Listen to me, Edgar”, he spoke to him in a calm, controlled manner. It terrified him, but he guessed that is what war did to people. “I know it hurts, but you have to hold still, okay? Getting that bullet out of you is risky enough as is, and you’re doing no one a favour when you struggle.” “Tommy.” “I am right here. You won’t die, Edgar.”

Edgar squeezed his hand so hard it must hurt, but he couldn’t think about that right now. He felt a little light-headed, and all that went through his head was “This is it. I am going to die, 29 years old, just like he said”. “Tommy”, he pressed out. “Tommy, I need to confess something.” “You won’t die, Edgar, you don’t need to make amends now.” “Almost got it!”, Jeremiah exclaimed, and he shut his eyes, a whimper came over his lips. God, he was pathetic.

“Tommy!” “It’s alright, I’m still here, I’m not going anywhere.” “Fuck, it burns!” “I know, Edgar, I know. Soon it’ll be over.” “I’m a horrible person, Tommy. I did horrible things that I don’t regret, but you know what?” Edgar didn’t fully realise what he was saying, and why he was doing it. If he were in any other condition, he would rather die than admit this.

The irony of it all actually made him laugh.

“You know what I would regret? I regret telling you no that night.” He threw his head back, trying not to breath but still needing to laugh. “God help me if I die without having kissed Tommy Shelby! I am a fool, and nothing seems to change that!”

It got a little quieter, but Tommy squeezed his hand even more, if that was even possible. “I got it!” Jeremiah held the bullet up with a grin. “Ah, I still got the knack!” “Arthur, the whiskey!” Tommy grabbed the bottle from his brother. “This is going to burn a little, but it’s going to clean the wound, so you don’t get an infection, okay?” Without another warning, Tommy poured the alcohol into the wound.

Edgar had experienced his fair share of pain in his life. Hell, just look at his face and anyone could see it. When his father had pressed his face against the hot stove and didn’t let go for way too long, it had hurt like hell. Until it didn’t anymore.

This was different. It was quick, yes, it burned, and Edgar was ashamed that he screamed like somebody had just stabbed him.

And then it was over.

The whiskey was gone, and so was the bullet. Just a lingering burn remained, and Tommy finally relaxed a little, without letting go of his hand. Edgar closed his eyes, let out a shaky sigh and leaned back onto nothing, but Tommy was quicker. Instead of hitting his head on the table he was caught, his head resting against the Shelby’s shoulder.

What a day.

The door flew open, and if he had more energy left, he was sure he would have at least flinched at the loud noise. “Edgar!”

His brother came towards him, struggling to stay on his feet, but stumbling never the less. John was quick to come to his side to assist him. “How could you do this to me, you fucking idiot! And what for? You are hopeless.” “I told you I would be fine, and I am, am I not?”

Alan wrapped him in a tight hug that Edgar reciprocated without second thought. Only then Tommy let go of his hand.

“I really thought I lost you for a minute there”, Alan mumbled. “I was worried.” “I owe you the truth”, Edgar whispered back. “You deserve to know.” “Know what?” “What happened all those years ago. With… father.”

Alan backed off again and stared at him, stunned. “Why now?”

Edgar shrugged. “He told me I would die just like mother. Now that I’m 29… Maybe he was right. I just want you to know.”

Maybe he could make peace before it was too late. On his death-bed (death-table) seemed like the wrong place for it, if he thought about it.

“But not now. We have a friend to… say goodbye to.” He swung his feet off the table and winced. The wound was still fresh, and he could only pray that it didn’t worsen. Too bad Edgar wasn’t exactly one of god’s favourites. Well, maybe someone else would bother.

“Take your time, before you collapse.” He could already feel Tommy’s hand on his back, and god he wouldn’t get rid of this now anymore, would he? Not after he said that.

So many people heard that too.

No, he would never get over this, ever.

Since when was Tommy so affectionate anyways?

 

They all paid their respect to Danny. Edgar had hesitated for a moment, but then decided it was not worth making a fuss all the time and took a swig. The alcohol burned down his throat and he had to hold back a cough. There was really no reason to embarrass himself further.

Finn had found his way to his side the moment he spotted him. “Are you okay?”, he whispered. “They said you got shot.”

Edgar smiled at the boy and ruffled his hair. “I’ll be alright, Finn, I promise. No need to worry.”

Alan snickered next to them. “Aww, you’re adorable with children.” “I’m not a child!”, Finn protested. “Firstly, yes, Finn you are. And secondly, I had to deal with you my whole life, no? You big baby.” “You take that back.” “Let me think about that… No.”

His brother grumbled. “Bitch.” “Alan! The child!” “Oh, I already know that word.” “Will you shut up, all three of you.” Polly scowled at them. “A person died, be more respectful.” “I assure you, Polly, I respect no one more than the dead, especially this man. If it wasn’t for him, it would be Edgar, no?”

It was strange to think about how little he actually knew this man, yet he was the reason he and Tommy met, the secret around his grave that kept them together, and finally the person who saved Tommy’s and subsequently his life.

He would make sure to visit him, Edgar promised him quietly. He would never not be grateful for what this man did for him.

“I hope I’m allowed to come to his funeral this time. It would be a shame if I missed it”, he joked. This time, Polly smiled too. “I’m sure Tommy will have nothing against it.”

Slowly, people left the room, going over to the bar to celebrate their win, but Edgar himself didn’t feel quite ready yet.

“How are you feeling?”

He shrugged at Polly’s question. “I’m not sure. Am feeling a lot right now.” “I’m glad you made it. Tommy would be devastated if you got hurt or killed because of him.”

Edgar chuckled. “I didn’t even think about it. It was natural to me to jump in front of him, to protect him. I guess that’s in my nature somewhere.”

Then, something truly unexpected happened.

Polly turned to him and hugged him. Edgar was a little taken aback, more out of surprise than anything else, but then reciprocated the gesture. “I hope you and your brother know what you got yourselves into.” “We’ll live. We have lived through worse.” “I know Tommy can be difficult, but he really does love you. When he’s around you, sometimes it’s like the part of him he lost in the war is back.” “Thank you, Polly. For everything.”

She let go of him, and although she smiled there was something deeply sad about her eyes.

“Let’s celebrate the good things in life now, no?” “Yeah, sure. Alan is going to be drunk out of his mind if he tries to keep up again.” “Well, it’s John’s problem to deal with him now, no?” “You’re right.” What a freeing thought that was.

 

To say Alan got drunk out of his mind was a complete understatement.

Completely unwilling to listen to any advice before it was too late, he at some point relied completely on others to stand. When he started cooing at John about how cute he was, which everybody but John seemed to find very entertaining, he ultimately decided that Alan should go to bed and left the party earlier than he probably wanted to.

Edgar really wanted to get to bed as well though. His shoulder hurt like hell, but every time he tried to slip away, Tommy was right in his way, as if he knew he wanted to disappear.

No, of course he had to stay until the end when Tommy brought out the champagne.

For fuck’s sake.

“You going home tonight?”

Edgar raised his eyebrows at Tommy’s question. “Where else should I go?” “I thought maybe you wanted to…”

Oh god.

“Go home with you?”

“It was just an idea.”

He sighed. “Look, Tommy, I’m tired, okay? I really don’t want to argue right now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I  know Tommy can be difficult, but he really does love you.”

Damn you, Polly. Damn you and this entire family.

“Let’s just get to mine, okay? I think I still have some of Alan’s pain medication, and I could really use some right now.”

Tommy’s lips curled into a small smile, and it was possibly the most adorable thing Edgar has ever seen.

Chapter 18: Unlucky boy

Summary:

Just when things seem to fall into place, Edgar has teh worst of luck.

Notes:

"I wIlL fInIsH iT pReTty EaRly ThIs tImE!"
I should stop lying to myself, and to all of you.
Anyways, here's another chapter!
I wanted to write a long one, but decided to split it up for your sake (and mine, since I get a sense of accomplishement now)
Big thank you to all of you!
Please don't mind the typos, and have fun :)

“Do you want to talk?”

They lied next to each other, Edgar staring into the darkness. “About what?”, Tommy asked him. “I don't know. I guess we have enough things to talk about.” “But what for?” Yes. What for? Like this thing that they had wasn't incredibly fragile, not yet fully formed but already full of cracks and faulty.

“I killed someone.”

It was the first time he had spoken it out loud. Even if they might have suspected things before, to actually admit it felt like something else entirely. “I figured.” “Aren't you disappointed?” “Why should I? I have done things just as bad. If not worse.” “I killed my own father.”

Tommy tightened the grip he had around Edgar. “You spoke not very fondly of your father. I understand. Anger can do things to people.” His hand found his face and he gently stroke across his scar. “Maybe. But it haunts me. I can't get it out of my head.” Instead of answering him, Tommy pressed a kiss to his temple. “Let's talk tomorrow, okay? Today was a long day, and you need to rest. Edgar nodded. “Yes, okay.”

 

Unfortunately, Edgar was not as lucky as he thought he would be. The next morning he woke up way hotter than the night before. At first he suspected it was just the additional body heat that radiated off of Tommy, who clung to him as if he would roll off otherwise (he probably would). But after getting rid of the blanket he had to admit that he felt clammy and his forehead was burning, as was his shoulder. Fucking hell. With a defeated sigh, he closed his eyes again.

He hated being sick, it made him feel useless and a burden to everyone around him. Both he and Alan took after their mother in this point, unfortunately. He remembered his father would regularly get a fever, but it never bothered him, living on like nothing happened, while Edgar had always felt like dying at the slightest raise of his temperature. He needed someone to look after him. And Alan was not here. At least he didn’t feel shame in front of his brother for needing extra help. He knew Alan didn’t mind, quite the contrary, he liked being able to repay his brother once in a while. If he was able to, that was. When they both felt under the weather, life quickly turned into a nightmare, with Edgar trying to prioritize his brother over everything else and Alan being more pissed than usual because he couldn’t help him, or at least take care of himself. Situations like these had more than often turned into arguments, only adding to the stress.

However, he was not sure if he wanted to ask Tommy. Not that Edgar expected him to care. Maybe he could ask him to tell Alan, he surely would come home for a few days. Tommy moved slightly, letting out a sigh, but seemingly carrying on to sleep. Good for him, Edgar thought, he deserves it. It was quite stressful, yesterday, he lost a good friend after all. In retrospective, it hadn’t actually been all that weird when Tommy came home with him. They didn’t talk a lot, mostly because Edgar didn’t feel like it and Tommy was never much of a talker. What did surprise him a little was that he was not asked for a kiss again. He expected it somehow after what he had said yesterday, but Tommy did not push the matter, only asked if he could come to bed with him. Of course Edgar had said yes. How could he refuse him? Not after all that had happened.

When he had almost fallen asleep, Tommy had whispered into the dark: “You have to promise me one thing, Edgar. Never ever put yourself in danger for me again, will you?” Because he would rather die than see me die, he had thought, was that what he actually wanted to say? “I can’t promise you that, Tommy. I told you, I didn’t think. Even if I promised you, I’m not sure I could stick to it. I’m just selfless like that”, he had added with a laugh, but Tommy didn’t think it was funny how careless he was. He wasn’t careless. Edgar was just the god-appointed self-sacrifice for everything. He had been for his mother, he was for his brother, he was for Tommy. Maybe that was his purpose in life. To live and die for others. Edgar was way too hot. It made his head feel cloudy, something he hated even more than the heaviness in his limps. Not to say anything bad about Tommy, but he really didn’t need any more clinging to him. He felt panic rise up in his throat, but swallowed it down again and instead tried to focus on the pleasant things about this situation. It felt nice to be so close to someone he loved. Oh, yes. How he loved Tommy. And if he believed Polly, he loved Edgar too. He would need to tell him, before he died. He still needed to tell Alan the truth, too. If it wasn’t the bullet, it would be the fever, if it wasn’t the fever… Well, he would have to get through that before to find that out.

Tommy grumbled and moved again, finally waking up, when suddenly, he stilled. “Edgar?” “Hm?” “You’re burning.” “I know. I got a fever.” With a swift motion and some curses, Tommy sat up on the bed. “Show me your shoulder.” There was an inherent panic in his voice that almost made Edgar roll his eyes at him. “I really don’t want to move right now, Tommy.” “Stop that and show me.” It was a struggle to get his shirt off, but an instant relieve for him, the cooling air feeling just right on his overheated skin. His shoulder, on the contrary, was a nightmare to move around. Tommy inspected his wound and let out even more curses. “It did get infected.” “No shit.” “Edgar”, he said in an alarmed tone.

“Tommy.” “Do you think this is funny?” “Obviously not. It’s fucking annoying. You are funny though.” “What is so funny about me getting worried!”, Tommy bit back. “Don’t yell at me, I’m sick. And you’re completely loosing it, this is not my first ever fever. I’ll be fine. I just… just need somebody to look after me a little.” Tommy still looked unhappy, and Edgar could almost see the thoughts running circles in his head. “John and Arthur will probably be fine for a bit by themselves. If they do need me, I will get Polly to come by. What am I saying, she will come by anyways, I just need to get a doctor…”, Tommy muttered, more to himself than to Edgar. He wanted to protest at the prospect of Tommy taking care of him, but then decided it was not worth it and enjoyed a short moment of blissful floating. “I will be back as soon as possible”, he promised. “I will get someone to take proper care of you.” “You should talk to Miss Pearson”, Edgar got out in a clear moment. “Who?” “Miss Pearson, my scary downstairs neighbour. She says she’s a witch, you know? Don’t know if that’s true, but she won’t ask any questions. Well, no, she will ask all the questions, but she won’t report us to the police because of… I don’t know, anything they’ll find.” “And she can help you?” “She might. Don’t know. It’s worth a try, don’t you think?”

Tommy seemed unsure of what to do next, but Edgar was already on the verge of falling asleep again. “Do what you think is right”, he babbled. “I trust you.”

Edgar slipped in and out of sleep in the course of the next hour or so. He fully woke up when there were whispers next to him. “Edgar, the doctor is here. He wants to ask you a few questions.” He groaned in protest, but still turned around to the middle-aged very nervous looking doctor. Oh that poor, poor man. He wouldn’t want to be in the same position as him, having to treat somebody when the local gangster was watching you with eagle eyes. He wondered if the rumours were wide-spread enough that he knew who Edgar was, what his relationship with Tommy was, or at least what people supposed it to be. For his own sake, he really hoped not.

“Alright, Mister Murphy, I am going to take a look at your shoulder first. If I may…” The doctor moved him as gently as possible, while Edgar thought he might fall unconscious, but only for a short moment. His condition had only gotten worse from the moment he woke up. “And you said he got shot?”, the doctor asked, inspecting his wound. “Yes”, Tommy answered for him. “The bullet was removed?” “Yes?” “The wound cleaned?” There was a short pause. “We did. Not enough though.” “Mister Murphy, have you been feeling unwell for the last days?” If he thought of it, yes, he might have, but that had a whole lot of reasons he did not want to discuss with some stranger. Edgar still nodded. The doctor began whispering something to Tommy, while he doze off again, not really paying attention. There was a really annoying ring in his ear. When somebody took his arm, he flinched so violently that he was let go immediately again. “Sorry”, he mumbled.

“Mister Murphy, I am going to properly clean your wound and bandage it. What’s done is done, but we want to make sure it doesn’t get worse. Then I am going to give you something for your fever.” The doctor touched him again, and this time, Edgar didn’t flinch. When he looked up he saw into Tommy’s eyes, looking as troubled as always. His eyes looked indeed like will-o’-the-wisps, and he knew he had already followed them into the deepest darkest forest with no hope to ever find his way home again. The worst thing was, he didn’t really want to. “What are you smiling at, hm?” Edgar chuckled. “You have beautiful eyes.” Tommy’s eyes became softer. “Do I?” “Yes. You lured me into the forest.” “You think I'd do such a thing?”

Edgar huffed. “Oh, I know you would, you madman. Well, it was my fault to follow you in the first place, no? It is what it is.” Up to this point he thought the doctor did a fantastic job of ignoring him, but then he turned to Tommy and asked very tentatively: “Is he usually like this?” “Does it matter?” “Well, no, but it might be a sign he’s in delirium. While it’s normal for high fevers, it also means his infection progressed fairly quickly. I need you to monitor his state closely over the next days.”

Eventually, the doctor was done and said his farewell, with the order to get him again if Edgar would not get any better soon. Tommy sat next to him on the bed and gently stroke through his hair. “You are going to be alright. I promise.” “Tommy, you need to promise to me you’ll look after my brother. He can’t work, he doesn’t have anyone but me. And I like John, but he’s a little dumb sometimes, and Alan would rather die on the streets than live with someone who isn’t honest to him and has other lovers behind his back. So if they ever fight, you’ll have to promise to not let Alan sleep outside.” “I won’t, I promise.” “Thank you. Means a lot to me.”

After Tommy forced him to drink something, Edgar slept until the early afternoon. Strange images haunted him through his dreams and back into reality, when he woke up with a loud scream, kicking against his blanket. “No, let go of me! Leave me alone!” “Edgar, it’s alright. Nobody is hurting you, it’s just the fever”, a calming voice told him, taking a hold of his hand. Edgar held still for a moment. “The baby.” “Hm?” “You hear the baby? Somebody needs to look after him. He cries so much, I don’t know what to do.” “Edgar, there is no baby.” He huffed. “You don’t hear it? I need to look after the baby.” He wanted to get up, but was pushed back into the mattress with gentle force. “It’s alright, I’ll look after the baby. I’m sure it’s just hungry.” “Really?” “Yes, don’t worry. I’ll feed it.” “Okay.” Edgar nodded. “Okay.” “Do you want to eat something?” “No. Go look after the baby.” “I will.”

 

When Tommy came back with tea and medicine, Edgar had already fallen asleep again. “There you are! We were wondering where you are, but me and Arthur figured we would give you and Edgar some peace.” John grinned knowingly, yet Tommy’s expression remained cold. “Edgar is sick.” “What!” Alan got up from the couch, or at least he tried, however the nausea and overbearing pain almost made him fall to the ground. “I heard that you fucker, come here!” “Alan! No swearing when the kids are here!” “The kids are outside, fuck off. They'll start to swear eventually anyways.” John came back into the living room, followed by Tommy. “So, you said?”, Alan immediately questioned him. “Edgar is sick. His wound got infected and he… the doctor said it probably wasn’t that alone, but he woke up with a fever and it got pretty bad over the last hours. He woke up in a delirium an hour ago, refused to eat, and said I should take care of the baby instead.”

John frowned. “What baby? Don’t you think you’re moving a bit to fast?” His brother’s glare was enough to shut him up. Not the time for jokes. “Oh for fuck’s sake”, Alan cussed. “Not the fucking baby.” “What baby?” “Me, Tommy, I’m the goddamn baby! It's a whole issue and has happened from time to time, but Edgar never really talked about it.” He stumbled forwards, but John was right there to steady him. “Sweetheart, what are you doing?” “I'm going to go, what are you thinking?” “You can't walk right now, Alan, you know that.” He let out a frustrated groan. “I know! God, I know I can't, but I have to!” “Here, let me help you.”

Alan wanted to scream, tell him to fuck off and let him do this by himself, to not make him feel inferior and useless, but it was no use, and he knew it. He just hoped Edgar would be okay.

 

Edgar was not okay. When he woke up he was alone and afraid, stumbling into the kitchen, barely able to stand up straight. He could have sworn he had heard his father scream somewhere, and he couldn't find the baby. In a fit of panic he had turned his whole bed upside down, until it slowly dawned on him that the baby wasn't here, but neither was Tommy. Now he lied on the floor in the living room and breathed shakily. He missed his mother. “Edgar!”, someone yelled, but they seemed to be very far away. “What are you doing on the floor?”

“Alan?” “Yes, it's me. Come on.” “Is he here?” “Who? Edgar, I don't know who you are talking about.” “Is he here?” “Can somebody help me here?!” He was pulled to his feet again and moved to the bedroom. “What happened here?” “I was looking for the baby, but I didn't find it.” “The baby is fine, Edgar, it's right here.” “I know. I'm sorry.” “It's all alright. Don't be sorry.” Alan sounded annoyed, but he suspected that it was more out of concern than actual annoyance. His brother had a strange way of showing his feelings.

They put him down on the bed again, but before they could let him go, he grabbed the arm of the person closest to him with more strength than he should have right now. “Will you look out for me? I'm scared he will come back. He is mad at me.” “Nobody will hurt you, Edgar, I promise.” “Okay.” He sighed, already feeling calmer. He was safe.