When Rose looked back at the time she'd first killed someone, she could remember every detail of it. The precise action of bringing the knife down and slicing his neck, the cry of pain, the spurting blood, the wide, terrified eyes, the life draining out of him surprisingly quickly. She could recall with clarity the calmness she felt afterwards, the feeling of being in control, the surprise at how immediately her fear had just disappeared. She remembered John.

What she couldn't recall was what happened afterwards. She didn't remember Arthur wiping the blood off her face with his handkerchief. She didn't remember Tommy surveying the scene and barking orders at his men about how to deal with the body. She didn't remember him bundling her out of the station into a waiting car. She didn't remember arriving home and Polly pulling her close in relief. She didn't remember the worried looks and hushed conversations around her as she sat on the chair by the fire in the kitchen where Tommy had placed her.

What she also didn't know - until she looked back many years later - was how that moment would prove to be a turning point in her life. That would be the moment when she learnt that she had the strength to take back control, the ability to push past her fear and make others afraid instead. It had been a revelation and, for better or worse, it changed Rose forever.

Tommy, Arthur and Polly were talking in quiet voices on the other side of the room as Rose sat unmoving by the fire. Tommy was telling Polly about how they'd found her and she was horrified. She looked at the knife.

"That's from the kitchen drawer. Did she plan this?"

Tommy shook his head. "I don't think so. She had a ticket for the London train. I think she was planning on running away again and took the knife for protection."

Arthur shook his head. "It's a good job she did." He rubbed a hand across his neck. "Tom. I can't believe our Rose did that to him."

Tommy looked across at her. He could believe it. He knew she had it in her, he always had. She was capable of anything, just like he was, and that, combined with her fear, had forced her into the only possible option to survive. He was strangely proud of her. Polly touched his arm.

"Who was it, Tommy? One of Luca's men?"

"No, it was a chancer. He saw an opportunity to impress Luca by taking Rose."

"Were the police there?"

"No, Isiah got rid of the body before it was known. The station was quiet, no one saw."

Polly breathed a sigh of relief. Rose's youth wouldn't save her from the full force of the law if she was charged with murder. Arthur ran a hand through his hair.

"What now, Tom? She's going to be a mess."

Looking at her calm face, Tommy wasn't so sure. "I'll go and talk to her. She'll have come round by now."

He moved over and pulled a chair opposite her. She didn't acknowledge him, just continued to look into the flames. Fred was sat next to her, his chin on her knee, still in protection mode. Tommy spoke calmly.

"Rose? Will you tell me what happened?"

Her eyes shifted to him and she blinked, frowning, trying to place herself. After a pause, she answered him.

"I was waiting for the train and he came in the waiting room. I shouldn't have been in there. John always told me not to let myself get cornered."

Tommy let out a small chuckle. "He was right. What happened next?"

"I thought it was Luca, but he said he was going to take me to Luca. He had a gun and he came at me. Fred attacked him, bit him on the arm." She clamped a hand on her arm to indicate where. Tommy nodded. "He pointed the gun at Fred and I had a knife in my pocket and I just ran at him and cut him, on his other arm. He dropped the gun and fell to his knees. Then I saw…"

She hesitated and looked at Tommy, then at Arthur and Polly across the room. She decided not to mention that John had been there. She cleared her throat before continuing.

"I saw him on the floor and I couldn't let him get up again. I couldn't let him take me or hurt Fred. So I cut him again, on his neck like John had shown me and … he just collapsed and the blood kept coming and then he was dead." She shrugged. "That's it."

She kept her eyes steadily on Tommy as she told him about what happened as matter-of-factly as if she were telling him about a day at the market. A silence fell in the room as they took in her words. Eventually, Tommy spoke.

"You did the right thing. You had no choice."

She nodded; she knew this. Arthur moved round and stood behind Tommy.

"He's right, Rosie. You don't need to feel bad."

Her brow furrowed. "I don't feel bad. He deserved it."

Polly shook her head. What had they become when Rose, of all people, was calmly describing how someone had deserved death at her hands? There was no coming back from this for her, Polly knew this from experience. Tommy had another question.

"Why were you waiting for a train to London?"

Rose flushed slightly and looked down at her hands. She decided she had nothing to lose from being honest.

"I wanted to see Alfie."

Polly scoffed and looked up at the ceiling. Alfie bloody Solomons. Tommy didn't react.

"Why?"

"I wanted to get away from here and from everyone getting involved in my business. I was going to ask him to help me."

This was too much for Polly. "Ask him to help you? Rose, help you do what exactly? Set up a rum distillery? Run a racketeering business? Double-cross Tommy?"

Tommy held out a hand to Polly to get her to stop. There was no point discussing that now.

"Enough, Pol. Rose, what has happened doesn't change anything. You and I have unfinished business. I told you neither of us would sleep tonight until it was done. That still stands."

Rose looked at him and knew she was backed into another corner. Her brain was working at a hundred miles an hour to find a way out and, as Tommy watched her, he could see her mind at work. He almost smiled. She was so much like him and one day would be a force to be reckoned with. For now, however, she was a fourteen year old girl who needed help she didn't want. He looked at Polly.

"Get her cleaned up, Polly. Then give her something to eat. Rose, you and I will talk then."

Polly rolled her eyes for the tenth time and came over to Rose.

"Right, let's get this coat off you, young lady. It's covered in blood."

She reached for Rose's coat and began to pull it off her shoulders. Rose's eyes filled with panic and reached up to grab it.

"No, Aunt Pol, I don't want to take it off."

And a light bulb went off in Tommy's head.

Polly continued to tug at the coat. "Don't be ridiculous. It needs a wash. Take it off."

Rose stood up and turned round. "I want to keep it on. I'm cold."

Polly looked at her incredulously. The fire was roaring. Tommy interjected.

"Leave it, Pol. Rose, go and get cleaned up."

Quickly, before Polly could reach out again, Rose headed towards the stairs. She told Fred to stay where he was so he could enjoy the fire. Tommy watched her go, everything making sense now. He had been wracking his brains about where Rose was hiding her pills. He was certain they weren't in the house and Ada had told him she didn't carry them on her. He'd thought she must be keeping them outside somewhere but no one who had guarded her had reported her going anywhere. Seeing her reaction to Polly wanting to take her coat, he knew he'd found her hiding place. Somehow she was keeping them in there despite Ada's assurances they weren't in her clothes. Now he had to decide what to do with his new-found knowledge.

When Rose came back down the stairs in her nightgown and dressing gown, thick socks on her feet, Polly and Arthur were gone and Tommy was sat in the same spot, Fred at his feet, a glass of whiskey on the table. She saw Finn leaving through the shop door and wondered where he'd been. There was a bowl of Irish stew waiting for her and when she saw it, she realised how hungry she was. Sitting down, she tucked in quickly. Tommy lit a cigarette and waited for her to finish. It didn't take long and she soon pushed her plate away. Taking a gulp of the tea that had been poured for her, she sat back, looked at Tommy and waited for him to speak. His first question caught her off guard.

"How are you?"

She answered honestly. "I think I'm ok."

"You took a life."

"I had to."

"He has a family – parents, a wife, maybe children."

She thought about that. "But he made the choice to attack me. He wasn't thinking about my family, was he?"

Tommy inclined his head. That was true and she'd made a sound argument. "It may come back and hit you later. Killing someone is no small thing. You need to talk to me if it does."

She nodded. Maybe it would, maybe she'd talk to him – she didn't know. Tommy changed tack.

"What were you hoping Alfie would help you with?"

She frowned slightly, thinking of how to answer him.

"He's always helped me. He understands me." She shrugged. "Maybe I wanted him to help me work out what I need help with."

Tommy took a drag of his cigarette, processing what she'd said.

"Why can't anyone here do that for you?"

"Everyone here wants me to be the person they think I should be. Alfie just lets me be me."

He nodded. "Alfie can do that because he's your friend. We're your family, we're more invested in you. We want what's best for you and we have to make sure you're ok even if you don't like it. That's what family does. You can't run away every time things get difficult, you have to let us help you."

"You don't let people help you."

He paused, fiddling with his cigarette. "I let Grace help me. I let her in."

She thought back to the night Grace was killed, remembering the anguish in his face, the desperate way he cradled his dying wife, the nights he spent sleeping outside. She realised he would understand how she felt. She spoke quietly.

"I'm scared of letting people get close in case they hurt me or I lose them. I missed you so much last year. I really needed you but you weren't there. And then John … I wasn't nice to him. He came to see me every week and I didn't want to see him and I was rude to him. He never knew how much I loved him."

"He did, Mouse, I promise you he did. And I can't undo what I did last year but you can trust me now. Will you trust me? Will you let me help you?"

"What if you leave again? What if you die, like John did?"

"I won't. But if I do, you'll survive that too. You're the best of all of us, Rose. We all know it – that's why we all want the best for you. Mum would have been so proud of you."

"No, she wouldn't. She'd be ashamed – look at me! I'm damaged. Dirty." Her voice broke and she looked down. She'd been scratching her thumb again and opened up the wound.

"Mouse, you need to stop thinking like that. What happened to you wasn't your fault."

"How do you know?"

"Because they were evil men, Rose, depraved. They deserved worse than the deaths they got."

She whispered. "You don't know what he did to me."

"Then tell me."

She shook her head. "I can't. I can't. I don't want it in my head anymore. I don't want to remember."

He reached over and gently stopped her scratching her thumb by taking her hand. She pulled both hands away from him. She didn't want to be touched.

"Mouse, you won't be able to make it disappear with the pills. You'll just bury it deeper and deeper and one day it will explode and destroy you and anyone near you."

Alfie had told her that too. "How can I make it disappear then?" She was desperate.

He shook his head. "You can't. It will always be a part of you. But it doesn't have to be the only part of you. You can learn to take back the control it has over you."

She furrowed her brow, not sure how that could ever be true for her. The thought of being in control appealed to her. She remembered how it felt looking down at the body on the floor and not feeling afraid any longer. She wanted to feel that way again. Tommy repeated his previous questions.

"Will you trust me? Will you let me help you?"

"You'll help me to take back control?"

"Yes, I will."

She looked at him for a long time, thinking hard. After a while, she held out her hand to him. He reached into his pocket and took out his handkerchief, wrapping it round her thumb and holding it tight. He supported her hand with his other hand and could feel her physically change. Her shoulders relaxed, her breathing slowed, her brow unfurrowed. She'd taken a huge mental step towards him and he knew it had taken a lot. He looked her in the eye.

"Bring me your coat, Rose."

Her eyes widened. How had he found out? He held her gaze, waiting for her to make the decision. Eventually, she stood up. Tommy let go of her hand and nodded at her. She turned and headed up the stairs.

Tommy patted his thigh and called Fred over to him. The dog moved and sat next to him, looking up as Tommy scratched his ears and neck.

"Well, Fred, that wasn't as much of a fight as I thought it would be. The next few days may be though. It won't be easy for her. We'll have to be strong for her, eh?"

Rose came back down the stairs and entered the kitchen, her coat over her arm. Walking round to Tommy, she handed it to him, then sat back down. Tommy put the coat on the table.

"Where are they?"

"In the hem."

He raised an eyebrow. "Did you sew them in there?"

"No, I made a hole in one of the pockets and tipped them through."

He was impressed with her ingenuity. "Are they all there?"

She nodded. He took the coat, found the hem then tore a hole between the lining and outer layer and, sure enough, revealed a few small white pills. After a bit of shaking and tipping, Tommy removed all the pills. Rose watched as he laid them on the table and gripped the seat of her chair. Handing over the pills had seemed like the right thing to do five minutes ago but now, looking at the last of them on the table, she began to panic. Shifting in the chair, she looked at Tommy who had scooped the pills in his hand.

"Tommy?"

"Hmm?"

"I need them."

"Maybe. But they're not good for you, you know that."

"I can't sleep without them. They stop the nightmares."

"They don't – they bury them. The only way to get to the other side is to push through."

"But the nightmares will be worse now, Tommy. I know they will."

Rose was getting more and more agitated. Not only had it been a while since she'd last taken a pill, the reality of not having them at all was hitting her hard. She sat forward on the edge of her chair, looking at his hand which gripped the pills.

"You have to trust me, Rose."

"No, Tommy, I've changed my mind. Give them back!"

She reached out to grab his hand but was too slow. He flung the handful of pills in the fire where they quickly disappeared. Rose stared at the fire in horror. Tommy watched her, slightly concerned she might try and fish them out. He was ready to stop her, but she didn't move. She turned her face to him and he could see the fear in her eyes. He knew that he now needed to take control for her and get her through this.

"You can do this, Mouse. I'll be here to help you. Charlie's at Ada's so we'll get through the night together, eh?"

She stood up abruptly and walked across the room. She swung round to look at him.

"This is a bad idea, Tommy. It won't work."

"Rose…"

"No, don't tell me we'll do it together, that it'll be ok. It won't – not for me. It'll just make things worse." She was angry now. "Why are you making me do this? Why did I listen to you?"

Tommy stood up and walked over to her, his hand up in an attempt to deescalate the situation.

"It won't be easy, I know, but you will feel better once you're through it."

"You need to go and get me some more."

"Rose…"

"Then I'll go."

She headed towards the back door. Tommy beat her to it and stood in front of it. She stopped short, glared at him, then turned and ran to the front door. Tommy started after her, slipping slightly as he went. He just about managed to push the door closed over her head as she pulled it open. Without missing a beat, she elbowed him with full force in his stomach. He groaned and bent over as the wind was knocked out of him. She pulled the door open again and shot out, running at full pelt down the middle of the road. The men guarding the house were caught unawares and stood gaping after her as she ran. It wasn't until Tommy dashed out and followed her that they too ran after them.

Those neighbours who happened to be looking out of their windows that night would have been treated to the sight of a young red-headed girl in her dressing gown and socks racing down the street followed by Tommy Shelby with three Peaky men behind him and a barking dog overtaking them.

Rose didn't get far. She was fast but she wasn't at full strength, plus her breathing began to trouble her. Tommy had recovered from the elbow he'd taken to the abdomen and barely had to run at full speed. He caught up with her before she made it to the corner and grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop. She swung round, pulling away from him.

"Let me go!"

He didn't say anything, just turned and walked back to the house, pulling Rose with him. The three men stopped at the sight of him walking towards them and looked sheepish. Tommy glared at them.

"Why is there no one left guarding the street? Did it really need three of you to help me get her? Not that you were any help at all."

They muttered their apologies and sloped back to their posts. Tommy kept hold of Rose as he reached number six. She had no energy left to fight or argue with him and walked meekly next to him, coughing occasionally at the exertion her lungs had just experienced. He led her into the house, then closed and locked the door behind him, putting the key in his pocket. He walked over to the back door and did the same. The shop doors were already secure.

Returning to the front room, Rose was stood where he'd left her. She was pale and sweating and looked awful. As he watched, her face turned grey and she began to heave. Snatching up the waste paper bin, he thrust it into her hands just as she vomited. He pulled her hair out of her face and waited, rubbing her back. After a few good heaves, she looked up at him, her eyes watering.

"All done?"

She nodded. He took the bin away from her, put it on the floor and moved her to the sofa. He sat her down on it, guided her to lie down, her head on a cushion, and pulled a blanket over her. She pulled her knees up, wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes. She was exhausted and felt terrible. Her head ached, her stomach hurt, she was dizzy and nauseous. Tommy sat by her and pushed her hair back from her face. As he stoked her hair, it wasn't long before she fell asleep, but he knew that wouldn't last. They were in for a long night.

He washed out the bin, put it down on the floor next to her, stoked the fire and sat down in the armchair with a glass of whiskey. Fred settled down in front of the fire and a peace settled on the room. Tommy finished his drink as he watched the fire burn down, allowing Rose to fall into a deeper sleep. Then he stood up, moved over to the sofa and picked Rose up, carefully pushing his arms beneath her back and under her knees. He straightened up with her in his arms and looked down at her. She stirred slightly but didn't wake. He held her close waiting for her to settle, her head leaning against his shoulder. She was bigger than the last time he had held her like this but not much. She wasn't that far away from her fifteenth birthday, but he carried her as easily as he had when she was a young child. He headed up the stairs, Fred following, and pushed open the door to her room with his foot. Laying her on her bed, he got her under her covers and tucked her in tightly. She barely moved and continued to sleep as Tommy built and lit a small fire in the hearth to take the chill off the room. Fred jumped up on Rose's bed and snuggled close to her. Tommy went back down the stairs to turn off the lights and fetch the bin which he put on the floor by Rose's bed and a glass of water which he put on her bedside table. Then he took off his jacket, waistcoat, collar and shirt, leaving him in his undershirt and trousers. Sitting on Ada's bed, he took of his shoes and socks, pulled back the covers and lay down under them, hoping to get some sleep before she woke. He had barely dropped off before he was startled from his sleep.

"No, no … stop, please stop … no…"

Rose was still asleep, but thrashing around in the bed, moving her head back and forth, her face distorted with fear, tears on her cheeks, hands gripping the blankets tightly, legs kicking as she tried to get away from whatever was scaring her in her dreams. Fred was sat next to her whining, not knowing what was happening to his mistress. Tommy jumped up and sat on the bed next to her. He took hold of her shoulders and held her tight.

"Rose, Rose, wake up."

He spoke loudly and Rose woke with a start. Her eyes flew open and she looked at Tommy in abject fear. She sat up and moved herself backwards up the bed as fast as she could away from him, pushing with her feet, her chest heaving up and down in terror. Fred jumped up and moved close to her.

"No, no … don't touch me …"

Tommy held out a hand towards her, speaking firmly but calmly.

"Rose, it's me. It's Tommy. It's me. You're ok, you're safe, you're at home in your bed. Look at me. See? You're ok."

Rose stared at him with wide eyes, slowly coming back to reality, still breathing heavily. Within seconds, her breathing turned to sobbing as she understood what was happening and as her dreams came back to her. Her face crumpled as she brought her hands to her face and knees up in front of her, every emotion she had been running from for the past year and a half cascading over her, deeply buried feelings rising to the surface, overwhelming her. Tommy shifted up the bed so that he was sat close to her and wrapped his arms around her, knees and all. He held her tightly as she sobbed, his cheek against her hair, feeling her whole body tremble. She cried for a long time – deep, wounded cries – and Tommy held her the entire time, allowing her to release her emotions, knowing that it was as painful as it was frightening.

Eventually, she began to calm down. Her sobs became cries which became shuddering breaths. Her body slowly relaxed, her breathing slowed, she brought her hands down from her eyes, she went still. And Tommy held her, not saying a word, not rushing her. He stroked her hair, soothing her, calming her. Then she let her knees slide down, stretching out her legs, reached up and put her arms round Tommy's neck. She held him tightly as he held her and allowed herself – for the first time in a long time – to be comforted. She clung to her brother with a desperation and a vulnerability that broke his heart. This was his doing – this damaged young girl was the result of his greed and pride and he would do anything to make it right.

Suddenly he felt her body tighten and knew what was about to happen. He let go of her and reached quickly for the bin. He'd barely got it to her before she vomited. He tucked her hair behind her ears and waited for it to pass. He knew this was the withdrawal from the drug and knew she must be feeling terrible. Once he was satisfied she'd finished, he put the bin back on the floor, handed her the glass of water and helped her to take small sips. She was shivering even though her skin felt hot, and her hands shook. More symptoms of withdrawal. Replacing the glass on the bedside table, he pushed her hair out of her face.

"I'm going to go and wash out the bin, Mouse, ok? I'll be back soon, but Fred is here with you."

She nodded and leant back against the headboard, drained. Her head was pounding, her stomach hurt, her body ached and her mind was being assailed by memories she was terrified of. He kissed her on her forehead and then took the bin to the bathroom. When he returned, minutes later, he found Rose on her hands and knees reaching under the bed. He sighed and, putting the bin back on the floor, reached down to pull Rose back up.

"They've all gone, Rose."

She struggled and complained, but had no strength to resist him. He got her back into bed easily. She looked at him with bloodshot eyes.

"Tommy, go and see if there are any left in the kitchen fire. Maybe one rolled out. I only need one, Tommy, just one to make me better. I'm not feeling well."

Tommy shook his head. "They're all gone, Mouse. The pills won't make you better, they're what's making you so ill now."

"No, no, really Tommy. I need them, the doctor said, didn't he, eh? I need them for my nerves."

He pushed the sweat-soaked hair out of her face. "You need to lie down and go back to sleep. You're exhausted."

Fear crossed her face. "No, I can't go back to sleep. I can't. They'll come back … I'll see it all again … I can't, Tommy."

"You can. I'll help you."

He gently pushed her over to the side of the bed and then got on it next to her. He lay down on top of the covers and pulled Rose down next to him. Again, she had no strength to resist, but as she lay next to him, his arm around her, her head on his chest, he could feel how tense she was. He held her close.

"When you were little and you had nightmares, you would come into bed with me and fall back to sleep because you felt safe. I'm still here, Rose, and you're safe now. You can sleep. It'll be ok."

He took her hand and put it on his chest on top of the buttons of his undershirt and kept his hand over the top of it. And as they lay there, Rose relaxed against him and her fingers curled round the buttons, gripping them as she had so many times before. After a while of lying next to him, listening to his heartbeat, her head rising and falling with his breathing, her eyes closed. Tommy felt her body go heavy and her breathing regulate and knew she was finally asleep. Closing his eyes, he too fell asleep. Fred, who had found space for himself in the crook of Rose's knees, heard the two of them breathing gently and also allowed himself to sleep – keeping one ear open just in case either of them needed him.