Chapter 55)Common folk

.-.-.

After her father's funeral Maria realised she'd never be whole again. Her brother's death had taken her childhood, but her father's death had eliminated her future. She'd recall the distinctive odor of lilies and flesh in a far state of decay, sum up every praise coming from their pastors lips.

During his service their preacher spoke a few versus and had nothing but praise. Her father had been the embodiment of righteousness; with a good Christian heart, honor and values. An admirable member of their small society and a proper father for his children. Ripped from their hearts, died for his country.

Bogus, her father died over nothing important enough to leave his wife and daughters behind. And as she'd stalked after her mother back from the graveyard she knew there was nothing in this life that would affect her more than watching his casket sink down into that black pit of earth.

That was all before she set feet in Small Heath of course. She needed two extra sets of hands to count the events that left her ill willed worse than watching the last tip of her father's casket sink into the grave.

It had started drizzling a while ago, but the thin fabric of her coat would be no match for the upcoming shower. She was already shivering from the cold that soaked through the bits on her shoulders and her bare feet felt like two anvils she had to lift up and place back down.

Tommy barged a few feet ahead, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to see if she was able to keep up. She'd refused to meet his sideway gaze, yet eyed him up the moment he crain his head back towards the road. She needed some sort of solidness meeting her horizon, which she'd find in Tommy's broad shoulders and long coat. She didn't expect any form of comfort and in all honesty wouldn't be able to accept it.

Instead of accepting the blackness that pooled inside her stomach Maria marched on. She pushed away emotions that would crumble up her face and force foolish sniveling out of her throat. It would be pointless, because not even a million hail Mary's could undo what she'd made him do.

The rain came, mercilessly and invasive. It was exactly what she needed, because along with the shivering cold that made her bones rattle and blue form on the tip of her upper lip, it brought salvation.

She deserved this; dragging her stone-cold feet through soil, having her fingertips turn to ice while the rain washed away the blood of an unlucky young man.

There was no sliver of doubt in her mind; she should feel hate for Tommy. If not for her deep set believes, society rules where clear; murder is the worst act of violence. It was only met by death, in forms of a battalion, or a noose tightening around your neck.

Her feelings in regards to Tommy should be clear, child's play.

"You've murdered him," her lips spoke before her mind could stop them. It surprised both of them and while Tommy's strained shoulders froze, Maria madly tried to recall which set of emotions had driven her to speak out.

But as Tommy shifted in action and lumbered back towards her, Maria's thoughts crumbled alike the courage to look him in the eyes.

Of course postponing the clash she'd set in motion was useless and when his hand lifted her chin up she tried to keep her face in shape.

Call it cowardly, but it was easier to burden someone else with all the blame then have the guild eat you whole.

"You murdered a defenceless, wounded man," Maria stated, aware that would be the only facts important for a judge. Her voice was tremulous, toneless while her heart galloped inside her chest.

The muscles in Tommy's face tightened, but then he had the audacity to chuckle, the sound was cold and empty.

I did, he signed without a hint of guild, out of mercy. And if it'll make you sleep better at night, I take full blame. And if you need to annihilate all feelings you have towards me, in order to live with yourself; I've murdered others for less. I can pretend to be sanctimonious, that I've fought purly and mainly overseas for king and country. That I've earned medals for the right reasons, that I'm proud of being part of a fucking massacre in tunes, in blood, in fucking shit and soil. But I'm not, what I've done in France is exactly what I've done before back in shady allies, during drunken bar fights, in the middle of an emptied field. What I've done in France isn't anything different than what I still do, what I'm good at; surviving.

He sighed and looked at her with those blue eyes touched by ice, within them lay cold, stillness. As if even his body had grown accustomed to the detachment of compassion.

'I shouldn't be in love with him', Maria told herself for a countless time. Every fraction of her life would be easier to bear, if she hadn't fallen in love with him.

At times she'd cursed Polly for picking her out of the crowd, for seeing her potentials. For bringing the 'old' Tommy back and setting off a snowball effect that turned from revenge to torture, to bloody murder.

Just know I'd die or kill for you without a second doubt.

Tommy's confession hit her raw and fiercy, like a blow to the stomach she faltered back.

"Y-you shouldn't be telling me such things…" her voice trailed off, aware he'd proven his words weren't empty promises. Although he'd treated her extremely poor at the start of their employer-worker relationships, he'd always fought to secure her safety. By battering her uncle, willing to sacrifice himself at Russo's mansion.

And maybe in a selfless way remaining detached and cruel against her, because he'd known from day one, that his world would tear her apart.

It's the truth, Tommy drew a small cross above his heart, you have that power over me and you should realise that. You've changed me, in a good way, because I'd do anything to live up to your expectations. But you've also got to come to terms that I cannot be a good man all the time. My life, -our life- simply ain't a fucking fairytale, it'll always be red-rimmed and sharp around the edges. I'll try my best to keep you aways from the worst bits, but this death won't be the last one you'll see.

It was unfair of him to be so straightforward, to enlist her future without any sugar coating. It was unreasonable to expect her to settle for such a crude outlook on life. She wasn't born and raised for this, she'd never wanted any of this.

Tommy moved closer and put a heavy hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in until her forehead met the wet fabric of his chest. He radiated heath and his fingers combed calmly through her hair. It was soothing, although not close to the comfort she needed.

.-.-.

Once they reached the next villages they were soaked to the bone. Along the walk Tommy traded his coat for Maria's and gave her his cap, but even those thick materials were no match for the rain pondering down on them.

The irony of Maria's hidden fortune was that they did not have a penny to spend on a hot meal nor dry clothes.
Luckily most small villages have one thing in common; solidarity and compassion with the lesser fortunate.

They found selter at the local tavern. The innkeeper felt sorry for Maria's who's teeth nearly rattled out of her mouth and once they'd seated at the brim of the fireplace, ridding themselves of the first layer of soaked clothes, the man even ordered his daughter to fetch them a decent meal. The gal came to their table visually amused by their poor state and placed down two bowls of hot pea and carrot soup, chunks of bread and two mugs of scalding hot black tea.

Grateful to warm up by the fire and receive a free meal Maria showered her peers with gratefulness; in between biting and shallowing she thanked the barmaid from the bottom of her heart.

Intrigued by the two misfortune travelers the barmaid asked how they managed to get so soaked to the bone. Maria's endless rain of appreciation halted and turned into stuttering.

She managed to scrape up a lie about how she and her sweetheart had been too occupied to realise they did not tie their horse properly. She then added how they'd recently got engaged.

The barmaid put two and two together, grinned widely and fetched the presumed lovers a pint of beer.

"My wedding gift to you lot," she added and winked before hurrying back to serve out meals.

So first I knocked you up and now we're engaged, Tommy signed, holy Maria the Queen of deception. A smile dangled on the edge of his lips as he wrung out the sleeve of his jacket.
Maria's brows drew together in a scowl. Refusing to properly respond she wolfed down her share of bread and burned her throat as she tried the soup.

Tommy hung out their jackets over a chair and placed his shoes near the fireplace. Only then he realised the absence of decent footwear and stared at the tips of Maria's muddy blueish toes she'd tried to hide behind the table-legs.

You can use my shoes once we're heading for the road again, Tommy sighed to her before hanging out his socks.

Maria nodded stiffly and felt her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach by the thought of continuing their travel while it was raining cats and dogs. Her hunger did not grow any less so she took the burning of her tongue and lips from granted and started slurping from her soup.

"So you are a mortal after all," she eventually commented once Tommy ate a good half of his dish, "I'd always thought you ran on Whiskey and cigarettes alone."

Tommy arched an amused brow and traded his tea for a pint. But after chugging down his drink he finished his meal.

The cheerful atmosphere and full belly calmed her strained shoulders. The warmth radiating from the fire caressed Maria's numb cheeks, ears, nose and hands and feet. The terrible event in the woods seemed lightyears away. As if waking up from a nightmare Maria tried to will all the images of the execution away and store them somewhere in the back of her head so they'd stop occupying her thoughts.

Her face must have given some of her struggles away, because Tommy tossed her a soggy square cardboard box. The rain had washed most of the label and color away and the content wasn't in a much better state.

Sorting cigarettes into 'non-smokeable' to 'hopefully smokeable' sides Maria became dreadfully aware they had about half a cigarette to share. Breaking off the tip in order to lit the good part of the fag Tommy's index finger ticked on the second pint.

"Trade you my pint for an extra puff," Maria negotiated and felt her nicotine addiction flutter when Tommy granted her a quick nod and realed the beer in to his side of the table.

Striking a match was impossible, that package was gone for good, instead she used the candle set upon their table. Savoring the moment of smoke clouded lungs Maria puffed her cheeks and gradually exhaled until there was nothing left inside her chest.

"Teach me how to handle a gun," yet again her lips had managed to speak before she'd been able to make up her mind.

Tommy cast a skeptical eye while he consumed another round of beer. Once down he slammed down the glass with more force then he might have intended, making the porcialing on the table rattle. He then slouched back into his chair and mouthed a silent no.

"Why not?" Maria sat back in her seat too, but instead to brace herself.

Tommy stared at her as if she was a whiny toddler throwing a tantrum and spelled: b-e-c-a-u-s-e-I-f-u-c-k-i-n-g-s-a-i-d-n-o.

The arrogance of Tommy radiated from him like heath from the fireplace. Maria's toes tapped a staccato rhythm underneath the table.

"That's not an answer," she stated.

Y-e-s-i-t-i-s, was her feedback.

The nerve.

"I'm not a dimwit," Maria hissed through her teeth.

N-e-i-t-h-e-r-a-h-i-t-m-a-n.

"-Woman. I'd be a hit-wo-man," Maria formulated.

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose awfully long, followed by his thumb, index and middle finger massaging his temples.

It's not right, me teaching you how to stiff a man, Tommy signed to her, you don't want to be doing that.

"Well neither did I want to be groped at me tits by that arse in the woods," she'd picked her words without caution, intending to get underneath Tommy's skin, "but that did happen now did it? And this time I was lucky to have you nearby as my knight in shining armour. But what about next time? You think I'd be able to defend myself with a knife or fists? I'm one-sixty-five Tommy. What am I going to do against a hundred pound bloke?"

Given your current venom you might as well glare him to death, Tommy pointed out and tweezed the last bits of her blunt from her fingers. Inhaling, it burned so small it nearly touched his fingertips.

Fine, once we're home I'll teach you to shoot canes at Charlie's yard.

"Swear it." Maria pressed.

Tommy's eyes rolled and a silent fuck escaped his lips.

"I meant that other kind of swearing." Maria retorted, drumming her fingertips rapidly on the table.

Tommy grunted feverishly annoyed, spat in the palm of his hand and reached out for hers. Indicating with his eyes to mimic his action he wavered his hand.

"That's disgusting," Maria announced but spit out a gob of saliva in her own hand and stared at the fluid finding its way along the red line of Zilpha's knife cut.

While shaking hands Maria said: "guess that makes us spit-brother and sister then."

G-y-p-s-y-h-o-n-o-r, Tommy spelled with his free hand and then placed it just above his heart.

"Your lot is rather petty when it comes to honor," Maria muttered underneath her breath.

.-.-.

They managed to catch a free ride, but the generous act of the lorry driver came with a compelling prize. The vehicle's cargo mainly existed out of chickens, the roofless back reeked of the birds' shit. And if the smell wasn't going to kill them, the exhaust gas would.

You still want chickens once we're back in Small Heath? Tommy questions after ramming his elbow into one of the crates, to scare off one dexterous chicken; the one that kept on pecking the back of his neck.

Maria managed to glare at him for a little longer than a second before drawing her head over the edge of the lorry; her carsickness would one day be the end of her.

The train conductor was less tolerant and generous. The combination of raggy clothes and the chicken shit odor that hung around them as a curtain was enough to make the man raise his eyebrow and scrunch his nose up. Their lack of money for a ticket was enough for him to inform the coppers and within minutes Tommy and Maria got thrown out of Holmfirth's train station quite literally.

Dusting off the sand from her knees and palms, Maria scowled at the backs of the men in uniform. She needed to take two steps to recover her -well, Tommy's- left shoe and managed to drag her -Tommy's- sock through a puddle.

Winching she stepped back in the shoe, sogging up the inside; today wasn't simply going to give her a break. She then picked up Tommy's flat cap and straightened the collar of his jacket she wore. Due to her previous teeth rattling Tommy had insisted on trading jackets and granted her his cap.

Tommy managed to impose more upper class in his bearing then a duke, straightened his back and seemed to brush all the mockery off his shoulders without any shame. Without a moment of doubt he spun on his bare heels and walked back towards the train station, as a man who owned the world, instead of some poor sod that didn't even own a pair of decent shoes. Or socks.

Maria let out a pronounced sign, sensing how all eyes of the intrigued bystanders were focussing on her and fled after Tommy.

"What are you doing?" Maria questioned whimpery as Tommy stepped into the ticketline.
Tommy cocked his head up into the direction of the sign ticketline and grunted obviously annoyed that she wasn't able to decode his message.

Getting us tickets, he informed her plainly, stepping his bare feet over a large crack in the concrete.

Maria wondered if that last toss had knocked all the sense out of his head and glanced at him askance.

"Without any money?" She pressed, speaking her words slow.

Tommy dragged out her anticipation for a bit longer before pulling out someone else's wallet from his back pocket.

Nicked the copper while he laughed at my bare feet, he pulled out a pair of round horn glasses, he won't be reading any morningpapers any day soon, with prestige Tommy held the spectacles up and grinned, bastard's blind as a bat.

.-.-.

The glasses added something to her face, a certain poise Tommy supposed. It gave her huge big-eyes, like an owl. Although the train was packed, they managed to have a coupe for themselves; they had their chicken ride to thank for that.

It still surprised him how Maria was easily amazed; peering over the horn-rimmed spectacles back and forth while scanning through a forgotten leaflet. She'd traded him back his shoes for it, stating they'd suit her better, but Tommy had a hunch she felt guilty for using his shoes. She still wore his socks, pulled up to her calves and his jacket because hers wasn't worth a dime. His jacket was too big for her; cloaking her from neck till knees and his cap sunk over her eyebrows. It gave her a boyish appearance but would protect her from rain and cold and groping hands.

Tommy managed to keep his face in shape, but the thought instantly made his blood boil. The prospect of teaching her how to handle a gun didn't settle with him at all.

There was a reason he and John beat a man blind for yawping at Ada. She had her last name and was in a way locked up in a silver palace. His baby sister was untouchable in the streets of Small Heath, a fierce legend in her own snobbish ways. Her hands would never touch a gun.

Maria would be living in a whole other realm, inevitable closer to the truth and danger then his younger sister. She'd been right, being part of his world ment that he couldn't be able to keep her safe, like Ada. Hadn't she been smart enough to sew a razorblade into the hem of her bucket hat, both of them wouldn't have been sitting in this train.

Would she have it in her, he wondered. Would she have it in her, to cross that line and pull the trigger. For what it was worth; he'd pray that once that moment doomed up and it was life or death, that she'd open fire first.

He wondered if he could live with himself, changing her into something she was not, a murderer. Was it worth sculpting her into an executioner over losing her?

Tommy already knew that the answer was yes. He hadn't been lying, not even exaggerating, when he told her she had power over him. Has you by the bloody balls, Arthur would say and he was right. He'd die and murder for her and he'd be damned but she'd changed something inside of him that made him want to live.

Tommy wondered until what extent she grasped the full concept of how crucial her presence was for him.

"Tommy?" The mention of his name made Tommy zoom back out and watched Maria watch him from across. She'd swung her legs up, ankles crossed in front of her, twirling on a thread of his socks.

"Can we at times pretend we're common folk?" Shyly her eyes looked up to him, twice their normal size due to the glasses. "Amsterdam gave me the jitters, but Saint Nicolas and Artis made up for everything. I-... if work allows it, can we be common folk, every once in a while?"

Maybe this was what ranked out Maria above all women in Small Heath; her acceptance. To her there was no difference between the feared gangster and the stable lad, drowning his sorrows at Charlie's stables. If she had the choice in all this, she'd prefer that common bloke wasting his life away while taking care of the horses above the criminal building an empire. She did not long for glory, fame and fortune. For fucks sake, she was carrying around diamonds and all she wanted was a flock of chickens.

And a pair of new shoes, Tommy reckoned while he stared at his socks on her feet.

Once this deal is done, I promise you another day at being common folk, you can even drag my arse into a church again if it pleases you.

"After this deal I can assure you I will make you sit through an entire Sunday mass Tommy Shelby," Maria promised while clasping her hands together, "and I'd say a thousand Hail Mary's once you're at it."

.-.-.

A/N: this chapter was refreshing to write, I like how they stop dancing around each other and start to express their feelings *cough-tookme2years-cough* (I think even Sheldon's and Amy's relationship progressed faster then thisXD) but point is they are getting somewhere. I also like how Maria is starting to get out of her shell, now that Tommy makes it clear his intentions are good and he'll have her back.

I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, stay safe.

Next update might take a while, there are some personal events that keep me from properly sitting down and write. Bear with me.

Xoxoxo Nukyster