Though Tommy Shelby will never admit it, those minutes, in that tunnel, with the soft scrape of shovels, stole part of him that is irrevocably swallowed. / One shot based on Tommy Shelby's war ghosts.

Incandescent light filled his vision - bright, burning, and yet deliciously warm light. Intermittent with the light were flashes - pictures; some moving, some not. Memories swept past him, one after the other, faces surfacing only to fade again to white. Was this it, then? This was his passing. (Reunion Fanfiction, Fellowship Later)