1911

Silas Maxwell is not fond of Small Heath, Birmingham, England. He knows most people would look at him funny for preferring the ways of their gypsy kin than a steady, stable home that his mother tried to provide. Yet, his mother had picked a gorger to get them out of the grass, woods, and comfort of the forests. Picked a man that just wanted a beautiful woman on his arm. Henry didn't care about him or his sister. It still baffles him why the man pursued his mother knowing she had two kids.

He hates Henry with a passion. It's why he had taken the streets of Small Heath. Being in the streets is how he met the Shelby brothers. They were of gypsy blood as well. Their grandfather was a king! They spoke their native tongue and he and Arthur were the same age. Arthur was a little crazy if Silas was being honest with himself. Sometimes, he didn't know if it was from the power he felt from their little razor gang or their fucked up father. He is sure that it is probably both.

He knows that before the move to Small Heath, he knew the love of his parents. Even after his dad died, his mother didn't change. The love and attention were the same. Nothing seemed amiss. It wasn't cold where they were at. He just didn't understand the need to move them from the comfort of their kin. He didn't see what Henry could provide that they didn't already have.

Yet, maybe, he could understand in ways. There were things - opportunities - that living in civilian life offered that traveling didn't. He thinks his mom wanted to give him and his sister that life she never had.

His sister, Evelyn, did deserve more opportunities than traveling could provide. The world was slowly becoming more progressive with the rights of women. His sister didn't need to be married at 15 and popping out kid after kid to a husband, who wouldn't do much for her. Evelyn could further her education. She could be somebody.

Instead, the wishful thinking got them nowhere.

He has been up in London. London was slowly becoming home. It is preferred over the smog of Small Heath.

He is slowly making a name for himself in the boxing world. No losses yet. He is undefeated and with that came many connections to the criminal underbelly of the world.

He is celebrating his 25th win when some scrawny, scrappy boy approaches him. The accent alone told him that it was someone from the Blinders coming to bug him. So, at first, he didn't think too much of it. He knows Tommy would sometimes inquire about who ran what in London. He thinks the man is plotting expansion. Silas prefers not to entertain those ideas. The last thing he needs is to get involved in some stupid war about who owns the streets.

Silas rolls his shoulders and tells the boy to spit it out.

Yet nothing could have prepared him for the boy to come bearing the news that his sister was pregnant. Not only is she pregnant, but would soon be married to none other than Thomas fucking Shelby at 17 years old.

1919

The first night Tommy couldn't bother to look at himself. He couldn't look at his hands. His hands couldn't stop shaking.

When he woke up, Evelyn's grey eyes wide with terror, his hands tight on her neck, he knew he wasn't dreaming. The one thing he feared since he returned home he had done.

He ripped his way away and he could already see the redness - his fingerprints around her throat. She had coughed and heaved. And since women were so fucking stupid sometimes she had tried to comfort him.

He could have fucking killed her.

He had immediately grabbed his coat, boots, and his fucking opium and escaped to Charlie's yard.

The first night he was too high. For once, his nightmares weren't of the shovels and those fucking tunnels. Instead, he found himself looking down at the still body of his wife. There was no smile, no life in her grey eyes. She was still with bruises of fingers around her neck.

He had done that. He thought it was a brilliant idea to sign up for the war. Hell, he even volunteered to be a tunneler.

Now, look at the damage done to his family.

Charlie had left him alone for the first day. He was pretty sure that the smell of the Opium was enough reason for him to leave him be. Tommy stayed shoveling horse shit and tending to the horses while he tried to sort out the mud in his head.

Arthur came back with the need for a constant drink. John was more or less the same, quick to use humor to deflect. Yet, Arthur and John can smile and laugh.

He is the fucked up one. He is the only that couldn't make sense of what the war had done to him. He had been close to death many times during the battles and the cold winters.

He was sure he met death on a few occasions and maybe that is the problem. He has been afforded extra time. Look where that had got him. A kid that loved him and wanted to imitate him. A wife that wore pretty dresses with her added lace made by her hands.

He has treated his wife like shit since his return. He avoided looking at her. Used her to ease the pain of the nightmares. He wanted to bury himself in her instead of being stuck in the tunnels.

The second day, he decided he was going to do better. He would be there for his family. Find a way to make what happened right between the two. He knows talking won't make him feel better, but it would make Evelyn. He would let her try to help even if he thought there was no use.

Uncle Charlie just gave him a dirty look with an annoyed grunt. He was sure then that there was evidence of what he had done to Evelyn.

Maybe he was being a coward by hiding out at Charlie's, but he had nowhere fucking else to go.

Today is the third day that he knows that he needs to go home. He smells like shit and he can only imagine what he looks like. He stands up from the hay bed and makes his way outside of the stable. He isn't surprised to find Charlie sitting in a chair waiting for him.

Tommy looks at his uncle before he grabs a cigarette. He only has three left in his pack.

"Don't be your fucking father," Charlie tells him gravely. "You have a good wife and a healthy son. What the fuck are you doing, eh?"

Tommy wonders the same thing. What is he doing?

Tommy lights his cigarette. He doesn't react to his uncle's words as he makes his way back to Watery Lane.

Watery Lane is eerily quiet as is the house. He enters where Polly is waiting for him. She is looking into the fire as she smokes one of her black cigarettes. He assumes everyone has been sent away while she waited for his return.

Unlike Uncle Charlie, he knows Polly isn't going to take his silence.

He stands by her and chucks his cigarette in the fire. He barely has time to blink before his cheek is stinging from the force of her head.

"Are they with you?"

"Like you deserve an answer," Polly sneers as she moves away from the fire. "If it be me, she should take the boy and go. Not like you deserve her with the way you've been treating her."

Polly gathers her things. He can tell his aunt wants to say more. He wonders what is holding her back as she isn't one to soften words. "Silas is back in town."

She makes her grand exit by slamming the door.

The last thing he needs to deal with is fucking Silas.

He's not surprised to find everyone gives him a wide berth at the shop. Polly gives him dirty looks, John looks at him in pity, and Arthur gives him a whole fucking attitude.

He expected Evelyn to be gone for a few days. He prepared for it. It gave him time to try and figure out how to make it up to her. Yet as the week went by there was no trace of her. No word from her or the boys. He was left to fend for himself in the house.

There was no Jamie or Finn eagerly waiting to greet him in the morning. Evelyn didn't have his cigarette pack filled with a set of matches laying out for him for the day. She wasn't tending to him with making sure he was eating and he had his glass of whiskey filled for him. The smell of honey that clings to her and the sheets and walls of their room was fading.

It scared him to think of her absence. How much he felt it.

He spends most of his nights drunk or in an Opium induced haze.

The war would be a welcomed nightmare to the loneliness he feels in his bed.

It's nearing a week since that fateful night when a knock comes at the door. Polly and his brothers already left for the day. He doesn't even know where Ada rests her head these days.

He is going to ignore the door until a more powerful knock comes. He sighs and makes his way to the door. His face is blank, but his eyes widen at the sight of Silas on the other side.

Silas doesn't seem to like being a messenger.

"Daddy!" Jamie shouts and hugs his legs.

Tommy picks up Jamie, who hugs him tightly around the neck. At least his son misses him. "You have fun with your Uncle?"

Jamie nods his head. "He gots us lots of presents."

"Where's Finn?"

"Wit the preacher. Staying the night. He'll be over tomorrow," Silas answers.

Tommy nods his head and he puts Jamie down. "You hungry?"

"Already ate," Silas answers again for his nephew.

Tommy pats Jamie's head. "Why don't you head inside. I gotta talk to your uncle."

Jamie doesn't give any objection. He gives his uncle a hug before dashing into the house.

Tommy looks at his brother-in-law. The two weren't exactly friendly. Silas had always been Arthur's friend. Any friendless they may have had was stilted by him getting Evelyn pregnant.

Silas is a menacing figure. It made sense he was making a name for himself in the underground boxing world. He knows the man has aspirations to go professional. Silas is nearly there.

It is strange though seeing Silas after all this time. He never thought Silas and Evelyn shared any physical similarities. They share the midnight black hair and piercing silver eyes.

Those silver eyes that saw right through him some days.

"She staying with you?"

Silas eyes him silently. He can tell the man is fighting the urge to get physical not like Tommy would stop him.

"We'll talk later," Silas says before walking away.

Tommy sighs as he walks back into the house. He is starting to get irritated that no one will tell him where his fucking wife is. He isn't surprised to find Jamie peeking around the corner. The boy smiles shyly. It's the same smile Evelyn gives when she is embarrassed with attention or when she gets caught doing something unladylike.

He walks towards his son. "You having fun with your uncle, yeah."

Jamie nods his head. "Mommy scolded him for buying me too much sweets!"

Tommy smiles. "I bet Silas got a proper scolding."

Jamie giggles as they enter the front room. Tommy sits on the couch and Jamie climbs onto his lap.

His son is six now and he knows in a few years he will be like Finn and won't seek solace from him anymore. Any comfort needed would be in private in the care of Evelyn.

As his son ages, the childlike wonder of him will fade. Jamie will see the flaw of him as a man.

"Are you going away, Daddy?"

"What makes you ask that?"

Jamie begins playing with the buttons on his waistcoat. "Mama cries like when you were away."

Tommy runs his hand through his son's head. His chest tightens. He always hated seeing Evelyn in pain and he was the cause of it this time. He forces his son to look at him. He won't promise his son that he won't be gone. He can't promise that in his life.

"Daddy did something that hurt, Mommy. I made her sad." He explains.

"Did you say sorry?"

Tommy doesn't want to tell his son that he doesn't know-how. He doesn't know what he can do to make up for what he has done.

"Sometimes words aren't always enough with your mom."

"I don't want you to go away again," Jamie tells him.

"Me either."

Jamie eyes him and seems to accept his words. Tommy isn't prepared for where the conversation turns. "Finn said you're going to give Mama a baby."

Tommy raises an eyebrow. "How'd you feel about that."

Jamie shrugs. "I don't know. I don't like sharing me toys."

Tommy snorts.

Jamie looks at him squarely in the eyes. It's a look he imagines he gives a lot of people in this town, "Are you giving Mama a new baby?"

"Your mom will know that better than me."

"But if it's a gift how would she know?"

"I'll explain when you're older."

Jamie looks at him blankly. Tommy imagines this is what people see with his silent stares. "That's what everyone says. I'm six years old!"

"Oi, are yeah? I guess those new toys should go to a new baby. Little kids don't play with toys."

Tommy fights the urge not to laugh at the look of mortification on his son's face. Tommy presses a kiss to his head.

He knows this innocence will be snuffed out one day. Most likely by him.

That night high off the opium, he drowns out an older Jamie screaming that he hates him.

Tommy wakes up in the morning to find Polly making breakfast in the kitchen. He's under no illusion that the spread being made is for him. Polly is content to let him starve. It's all for Jamie.

Polly is fine ignoring him as he moves to make himself a cup of tea.

"How is she?"

Polly flips over an egg. "Better she's away. Although I believe you should see what you've done."

Leave it to Polly not to mince words. He is prepared to leave it at that. He knows he can ask everyone how Evelyn is doing, but it doesn't change that he needs to see her for himself. She needs to be the one to set the terms on how he can do his penance.

"You've got a good thing, Thomas. A beautiful family and a wife that loves you. She understands this family - understands you."

"You think I don't know that?" Tommy inquires.

Polly chuckles. She turns her dark all-knowing eyes on him. He knows his aunt can see and sense things. She knows how to wade through someone for ulterior motives.

"Oh, I know you know. So it makes sense what you're doing. You're a man that needs a woman, Thomas. Keeps that neck of yours from turning too sharply in a certain direction."

"You've got me all figured out," Tommy drawls.

"The war is over Thomas. Let your wife soothe the one that is in your mind. If you don't, you'll never forgive yourself."

Thomas lights a cigarette when a knock comes at the door and it is immediately opened.

"Thomas Shelby, let me see this horse of yours."

Tommy grunts at the sound of Silas. He doesn't miss Polly's smirk.

Tommy heads to the front and grabs his coat. Silas is standing outside on the streets of Watery Lane. There are no kids out yet and it's just the two men on the street.

His eyes take in Silas. The man is physically bigger than him and all his brothers. The man has always held a bulkier build, which he knows helps him with boxing. He is sure the man's build was also an advantage during the war. He had only seen Silas a couple of times during the war. Brief exchanges he could barely remember.

The last time was when they had to take Freddy to the infirmary tents for taking that bullet for him. Silas was there for losing the tips to his ring and middle fingers on his right hand.

The sparse visits were how Tommy would describe Silas' presence in his family life to begin with. Silas is a gypsy. Tommy knows the man won't probably ever settle down. Boxing allows him to travel, but with warm beds for the night.

Silas' visits are also never consistent. Tommy thinks it's fitting Silas would decide to blow through town during all of this. Yet, Tommy knows he is the one to blame for that one. He had sent word to Silas he wanted to talk. Yet, his brother-in-law never responded. Tommy guesses this is all his back fucking karma.

The two don't talk as they make their way to Charlie's.

"Thought you would have more horses," Silas says after looking at Mohangan boy

"Need money for that."

Silas stuffs his hands in his coat pockets. "Is that why you wanted to talk? Thinking about earning money in betting on fights more?"

Betting on boxing was more of Arthur's and Finn's thing. Tommy never cared for the sport. Maybe down the line, he thinks it could be useful.

" I hear a lot of people go to your fights. People with connections."

"And who are you trying to meet?"

"I just want to know if I would be welcomed," Tommy counters.

"I'm not stupid, you don't like to share power. It's my neck on the line if I advertised my brother in law is a fucking gangster and he is making power plays."

"You know I would never jeopardize your place in the boxing world."

"We need to settle family business before I even think about helping you in your little power plays."

Tommy lights a cigarette. "This conversation feels familiar."

Silas turns murderous. "This isn't a laughing matter. I come to visit my sister only to find out that you fucking strangled her! Of course, the excuse is Tommy is different from the war. He didn't mean it. Excuse after fucking excuse."

"You know I would never put -"

"Well, you fucking did!" Silas yells. "For three days you didn't show up! What's the excuse?"

"I don't have an excuse," Tommy tells him truthfully.

"You can't let the war eat you up like that. You came home, Tommy."

Tommy takes a long drag of his cigarette. He should have seen it coming, but he stumbles as Silas lands a solid punch to his mouth. His teeth cut his gums and his lip is split. He spits out the blood.

"You want to take out what happened on the world do it. I don't care. But you don't take that shit on my sister." Silas claps his hands. "Now, let's go to the Garrison, it is all on you tonight."

Silas and he go to the Garrison. It's loud and rowdy. Arthur is there and already drunk off his arse.

"Oi, is that me baby brother," Arthur shouts as he makes his way over. Arthur pauses as he looks at his split lip. He pats him on the shoulder before wrapping his arm around his shoulder. "We need to talk."

Arthur leads him into the snug.

"Little brother," Arthur slurs.

"Arthur," Tommy replies.

"I've seen Evelyn," Arthur informs him.

"Is she okay?" If anyone would give him an answer it would be Arthur.

"You know your wife, Tom. She is stronger than most women. She's alright," Arthur tells him. His eyes are glossy.

"She say when she is coming home?"

"A couple of days. She doesn't want to keep Jamie and Finn away for too long."

Tommy nods his head.

"You know Tom, Evie is a good woman."

"I know."

"Most men having nothing to come home to. You have a healthy son and a wife. Women will never understand war, but Evelyn will understand you."

Tommy nods his head. Arthur smiles.

"Silas got you good. I expected worse."

Tommy scoffs as they make their way back to the public. Tommy takes his Irish whiskey and joins the men in the lively banter. He doesn't enjoy it too much as he still has no wife to come home to. Yet, the warmth of the drink provides him some comfort. Maybe he will have Arthur and Silas take him to Evelyn. Maybe drunken words would make her come home sooner.

He is enjoying a glass of Irish whiskey when his slightly good buzz is ruined by a newcomer.

"Haven't seen Evelyn and Jamie in a couple of weeks."

Tommy looks through the mirror at Duncan's reflection. He knows he had allowed this man too much freedom of speech when it came to his wife. Tommy is well aware this man wants his wife. He also knows the man has been warned many times about his loose tongue.

He takes a drag of his cigarette. He can tell his silence unnerves him.

Duncan steps closer. "Didn't take you for a jealous man, Thomas."

Tommy blows smoke in Duncan's face as he places his cigarette in the ashtray. "What is it that you're implying of me wife?"

Duncan's lips tug into a smile. "She wouldn't have to seek attention elsewhere if she was getting it at home."

Tommy thinks the Garrison becomes the quietest it has ever been with a room of drunken men.

The cap that was resting on the bar top is in his hands immediately as he takes his first swipe.

Sometimes, the cutting feels too easy. The flesh is easy to slice through - too easy. There is no resistance. The lack of resistance is a stark reminder of their fragile mortality.

He drowns out the sounds of Duncan's screams. The man needs to learn this lesson. He had given too many clearances.

He grabs the man's tongue and that's when Arthur and Silas converge.

They try to pull him off the man, who is bloody and lying still. Tommy thinks he can smell piss mixed with the alcohol and blood.

It's only then he realizes it wasn't Duncan screaming but him.