Smut warning**

The journey back to Birmingham is mostly by horse and carriage, and takes nearly a week. Despite rattling around in the cart, you manage sleep, usually leaned up against Tommy or Finn. Arthur rarely appears to sleep, opting mostly to stare out the window and grumble about this and that. The other men pay him no mind. Pulling up at the Shelby Household on yet another unbearably sticky evening, you heave an audible sigh of relief as you jump out of the cart and stretch your aching limbs. Arthur and John head straight in to the house, Finn following with their small suitcase in tow behind him. You fuss the horse as Tommy sorts out monies with the cart driver. "Are you ready?" Tommy is close behind you, his hand on the small of your back. The only reply you give is a grateful smile.

Bed is a welcome retreat at the end of the day. You've spent a while with Brandy, more than a little relieved to find her standing, unharmed, in her stable, tucking in to her hay. You're back in the room you had commandeered before. Nothing has changed. You reach to the window, pulling it closed, pausing to appreciate the familiar smell of smoke and whiskey that lingers around the house. You never thought you would miss the smell. As you settle back in to bed, closing your eyes, you allow memories from the past few weeks to come back to you. The things you've done whilst you were gone. You aren't sure if Tommy would be proud or horrified. Likely the latter. You truly are 'one of them' now. You've become far too accustomed to the sounds of people screaming and crying, begging for mercy. You're so overwhelmed by it all, you feel completely numb. You open your eyes and look at your hands. The hands of a murderer. Starting with Daniel. In all honesty, given the option, you would kill him over and again. The others, though. Half a dozen only, but half a dozen too many. You've shot, you've stabbed, you've strangled, you've drowned. Your stomach churns with the thought of it all, and all too soon, you're hunched over the toilet in the bathroom, waiting for your dinner to make an unwelcome reappearance. You start when you hear a voice floating through to you. You stagger to the door, and hold on to the frame for balance.

"Are you okay, Eva?" Concern is etched on to the beautiful face of Tommy, and he stumbles to help you back in to bed.

"I'm fine," You affirm, pulling the sheets up and over you.

Tommy plops down on the bed next to you, running his hand through his hair before he speaks. "Eva, I'm sorry." His voice is thick and slurring with alcohol, and he is clearly having an issue with remaining upright as he catches a hold of the end of the bed to steady himself.

"For what?" You tilt your head curiously, your eyes on the man in front of you.

"Everything," Tommy doesn't look at you as he speaks. "Daniel, Alfie, all of it. It's all my fault."

You chuckle softly. "Thomas, how is any of it your fault?"

He turns sharply to look at you, and his face is stern. "Because of who I am, Eva. I'm a bad man. Badness just follows me around." Before you have a chance to respond, he stands. "You shouldn't be around me,"

You draw your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. You hold Tommy's stare for a while, neither of you speaking. "Then I, too, am a bad person." You look down. "Tommy, I did some terrible things in London," You pause, unsure of how much to tell him. "We all have our demons,"

Tommy laughs, once again resting down on the bed next to you. "I don't have demons, Eva, I am one," He waves a hand aimlessly in the air. "You're- you…" He exhales sharply. "Fuck." He bites on to his index finger for a moment, before turning to face you. "Did he… Alfie… Did he…" He can't seem to find the words he's looking for.

You blink in surprise, understanding the unsaid words exactly. "Oh goodness, no," You reach out for Tommy, but stop just short. Tommy doesn't seem to notice as you retract your hand.

His voice is softer when he speaks again. "I'm sorry about everything, Eva," He closes his eyes and bows his head, and there he stays for a while. Eventually he moves, to withdraw and light up a cigarette. He smokes it in silence, his eyes now trained on the floor by his feet, only moving to tap out the ash in to the tray next to the bed. "We will look for something more permanent for you." He lays a hand on the bed next to you after depositing the butt of the cigarette. "For now, get some rest," Still unsteady, he heaves himself to his feet, taking a moment to get his bearings before he moves. He turns to you at the door and offers you a smile, "Sleep well, Eva," You return the smile and the sentiment, and Tommy closes the door behind him, plunging you in to darkness.

The weeks pass with little to report. You've mostly taken it easy, relishing in the relative comforts of sleeping in a real bed, being able to wash as and when you please, and being able to eat something besides dry bread. You begin to look a little more human as time goes on, your skin taking on a more healthy tone, and you feel more alive than you have done in some time. One particularly sunny August day, most of the family have made their way to the local green, along with a large amount of alcohol. Most other people had soon vacated as the Shelby family became more intoxicated and vocal as the day bore on. They play rough games, the men ending up on the ground, wrestling in the grass and mud. Polly chastises them for spoiling their clothes, but makes no move to stop the antics. Growing immune to the shouting and swearing, you lay yourself back on the grass, allowing the warmth of the sun to wash over you, and you revel in the heat. The only times other than this you have laid in the sun, have been in the field watching Brandy graze.

"Whiskey?" Michael's timid voice startles you, and you sit up quickly enough to make yourself woozy. The youngster is holding out a quarter full tumbler to you, but the sheer smell of it makes you wrinkle your nose.

You hold up your hand, "Thank you, no," Michael sits himself down next to you, watching the other men fool around for a while. After a while, he pipes up. "Listen, I wanted to apologize," You look to him, and he looks away. "For that night," He gestures vaguely. "I should have done so sooner, but…" He lets his sentence trail off.

You smile. "It's okay, Michael," You drop down on to your side, turning to face him, and he mirrors you. "We were both fucked,"

He smiles gently. "Doesn't make it okay, but thank you," He reaches out a hand, and you take it, shaking it gently. You know Polly is watching you, but you're not sure what her stance is on it. A little while passes, and the two of you continue to watch as the action begins to wind down. The coolness of the evening is setting in when Tommy appears, having been away on a business venture you have absolutely no desire to learn about. His eyes fix immediately on you and Michael, and you could swear he puffs himself up as he approaches. Tommy looms over the pair of you, and Michael sits up, pointedly moving himself away from you. Tommy stares down his younger cousin for too long, and then turns to you, flexing his jaw before he speaks. You don't miss his fists clenching at his sides. He casts a final glance at Michael, who gets the hint and takes his leave, heading over to his mother, glancing back like a kicked puppy as he retreats. Tommy drops down to the ground next to you as you sit up, brushing dried grass off the folds of your skirt. He smokes a cigarette quietly whilst you study him, unsure of his motive. If he's thinking anything, he keeps it to himself. You decide to break the silence yourself. "Michael was apologizing," Tommy's eyes snap to yours as he exhales a cloud of smoke. He flicks away the end of his cigarette, but he doesn't say anything.

Darkness sets in soon enough, and the crowd of you head back to the house. Still hyped up, the men are loud, and playfully shove each other on the walk home. Ada holds herself elegantly as ever, arm linked with Polly, and they walk a few paces ahead of the men. You and Tommy take up the rear, Tommy keeping a clear space between the two of you. It's something he has been practising since you've been back, but he's not yet mastered control over watching you when you're in the same vicinity. As you round the final turn before the house, you step closer to Tommy, brushing yourself discreetly against him. He doesn't move away. You push your luck and run a finger down the side of his hand. His fingers twitch. You place a hand on your lower back as everyone queues to enter the front door, and Tommy doesn't miss as you wince and flex your back.

"Are you okay?"

You nod. "Just aching is all," You continue rubbing your back as Tommy holds the front door open for you. "A good sleep and I will be fine."

An hour later, you are leaning over the sink, splashing water over your face. You swear under your breath. You close your eyes, trying to settle the giddiness. You swear again as you feel a warm hand on your shoulder. Straightening up, your eyes meet cerulean in the mirror in front of you. His eyes appear darker than usual, and his lips are parted. He's so close. His hands trails down your chest, over your breasts, caressing them in turn. He presses himself closer to you, you can feel his hardness against you, and you gasp. His free hand is roaming down your thigh, running up the inside, and stroking gently just there. You shudder. His hand clasps around your rear, and he pushes one leg aside, slipping his own leg between yours, holding yours apart. There is noise behind you, and you feel the back of your nightgown rising up and over your head, and you stand, exposed, with your back to him. Tommy bites down on his lip hungrily, then proceeds to nip gently down your neck and shoulder. You feel his member press against your most private place, and you shift your legs that bit further open, allowing him access. Groaning as he enters your wet heat, he holds on to the edge of the sink with one hand, and bunches his other hand in to your hair as he begins moving. You know you're making a lot of noise, but you can't hold it back. Each movement feels like you're on the brink, your moans only get louder when Tommy lifts your knee to rest on the edge of the sink, and you feel him slide deeper inside you. He's panting, huffing with every stroke, he bends you down further over the sink, you see in the mirror his eyes are closed for a moment, and then they open, locking with yours, the hint of a smile on his face as he increases his pace, and you are trying to find something to hold on to, your nails dragging marks in to the wall, his hand finds yours, and squeezes. He keeps those eyes on yours in the mirror until your vision blurs, and you close your eyes, crying out as you find your release, and you hear him let out a final moan as he pours himself inside you once more, and he eases his pace back. He doesn't let you go, though. Your back is arched out towards him, he's still inside you, his length still pulsing inside you. His eyes are still on yours as your flutter open and begin to take focus again. He finally drops his head on to your shoulder as his flaccid manhood slips out of you, and you feel the wetness run down your leg. He kisses your neck, and leaves without a word.