Hi all!

Incase nobody had noticed, I'm altering the timelines here for a lot of season two's plot lines. I'm leaving May out of the equation (way too many eggs in one basket!) and pushing the pregnancy storyline further into the season rather that at the end. The Epson race where she tells him will be set towards the end of this story as I'm weaving Daisy and her influence with Sabini into it all, and for the sake of this story, then, I'm placing Grace's presence and revelation earlier on. I hope it all makes sense to you guys, still :)

Numb. It's the only emotion that registers with Daisy - she feels numb. She feels like the world has disappeared and only those two words are left in it.

She's pregnant. If Tommy is torn up about it… it's his.

Her stomach knots up in a horrible, god-awful way, twisting and turning to the point where she feels like she may be sick. It's bottomed out, hollow but also full and she's worried she'll vomit all over Tommy and herself. She hopes she won't embarrass herself to that extent, not tonight, not now.

She stares somewhat blankly at him as she processes through this. Gone are the days of her bursting into tears and shouting at him - they're both beyond that now and they know it. They're different people, even to the ones they were at the start of the day. That kiss has just changed everything. She idly wonders that it may have been different if she'd heard about Grace's pregnancy at the start of the day, before they'd finally reconnected on this most basic level, the level that had always been underlying since she'd turned fifteen. There's no going back after that kiss… or so she'd thought.

She's pregnant. It's Tommy's.

He will never pick you, Daisy Smith. He is too honourable to discard the mother of his child.

She cattily thinks, 'well played' to Grace but chastises herself for thinking such a thing. She has always loved children, always projected her own lack of a childhood onto the idea of giving her own child the most happy and joyful upbringing, one where her child would know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was loved. So loved. Whenever she had pictured it in the past, she had always, always, envisioned Tommy as the father of her child. She would want nobody else to be linked to her in that most precious way. She knows he'll make the most wonderful father. Growing up, in her teenage-little-girl fantasies, she'd always pictured the two of them in a small but cosy house in Small Heath - he'd obviously not want to leave there, seeing as he would be the head of the Peaky Blinders and the fact that he was so close to his family - that would be decorated however she would want. They would watch their children play along the street and she would glance down the long pathway to the orphanage at the end of the road and thank her lucky stars that she'd made it. That would be the moment she'd feel like she was no longer Daisy Smith: the mucky orphan. She would envision herself being a mother, spending her day making the house she owned with Tommy - her own home, a roof over her head where she'd always be safe and happy - beautiful and clean, a place where her children would want to be. She would never want her child to fear or hate returning to their own home, like she had been. Then again, the orphanage had never been her home. She supposes she's never had a home. Tommy's home was where she'd always felt safest, but then she supposes that it was because he and Ada were there rather than the actual house itself. He has always been her home. Even when she had thought him dead, their memories together were where she would go to escape her dismal reality. He had always been her safe haven.

That safety, that comfort, had just been broken.

He was not hers anymore. He had other people to love in his life, other people to make him happy.

She swallows thickly, her hand moving to her neck to circle it lightly, her breath coming in short pants. "Oh."

It's all she can say. The man she has been in love with her entire life will father a child of someone else, probably marry someone else.

It's that thought that makes her breath come even quicker, her chest feeling heavy and constricted. She sees Tommy's face twist in concern and he makes to move closer to her to help, but she throws her arm up wildly to stop him. She needs space, space to think. She loves him and she always will, but she doesn't want to be this close to him at this very moment.

"Oh," she says again in a daze, half devastated, half wondering how she would fit into all of this. Wondering if she will fit into it at all.

"Why did you kiss me?" She asks quietly, choked. It's cruel, she thinks. If he is to be the father to a child of another woman, why did he kiss her? He surely must know how cruel that was.

He moved toward her anyway, always thinking he knows best. She tries to move away again but he grasps her arm lightly, not letting her. "Don't pull away, Dais." He mutters this under his breath like he doesn't even know he's saying it.

"You're being cruel."

He uses his free hand to scrape down his face in a stressed nature. "I'm trying to be honest."

She knows this deep down but for the time being, all of her ridiculous fantasies she'd had as a teenager have just come crashing down for the second time in her life. She wants him to be happy, but she'd always decided to fight for him. It will be hard, to think, to fight for a man so explicitly linked to another woman.

She breathes in shakily and exhales deeply, using her breath in an attempt to calm herself. "I know."

"I'm just as confused as you are, right now." He's as quiet as always, as though even discussing his emotions makes him weak.

She nods again; he really must be confused by all of these new developments right at such an important time in his career.

"Are—" She swallows again, her mouth drying out. "Are you sure it's yours?"

It's his turn to sigh now. "I don't know. She says so. She's not been able to conceive with her husband."

"She's married?!"

She hates that this tidbit of knowledge sparks a flame in her chest, a positive one this time. If she's married, there's a chance it's his.

He nods, exhaling through his nose. "She swears it's mine though."

"Do you want it to be yours?" She whispers this, scared of the answer he may give.

He looks away, and it's this that unsettles her the most. He is always looking at her when they're together. He is always so focused on her. "I don't know."

The hopeful sparks dims. "Do you love her?"

It's a while before he answers, and it doesn't make her feel any better at all. "I did."

Her face contorts with sadness and pain, her lip starting to tremble. She bites down hard on it, attempting to straighten her face out. She loves him and she just wants him happy. She repeats this mantra over and over, even though it feels like she's just lost the love of her life all over again. "And now?"

"I don't know, Dais." He released her arm and uses both hands to steeple in front of his face in deep thought. The crinkle in his brow seems like it is permanently stuck there.

He is cruel.

"Where do I stand in all of this Tommy?" Her voice sounds much stronger than she'd thought she would be capable of.

"I don't fucking know, Daisy!" He shouts this into the dark street, the sounds reverberating in the air. Drunken crowds of people walk past them laughing and Daisy hates that she let herself ever believe they could be happy and together again. They would never, ever, be like they were. For the first time, she almost wishes she'd never fallen in love with him. He's brought her so much pain, so many tears. She wonders if this feeling she has, that she's been broken one too many times to ever be put back together again, is worth the one year of bliss she had with him.

Of course it is. She would pay any price for that one year of sheer joy and comfort she had with him in the smoky, dirty city. For alleyway kisses and slow walks to the orphanage. For rough sex after one of his fights, for the tender lovemaking on a lazy Sunday morning. No price would ever be too much for that year.

But this came close.

She fumbles around in her clutch bag for her pack of cigarettes, clumsily grabbing one from the pack and then struggling to light it. She sees Tommy go for the lighter in his pocket in a bid to help but she turns away and manages to do it herself. She smokes a few times angrily, shallow puffs and sharp exhales calming her down slightly.

"Don't you shout at me, Thomas. This mess isn't my doing."

For some reason, the corner of his mouth lifts in the semblance of a smile. Her expression must show her confusion and exasperation, because the other side of his mouth lifts too and his body relaxes, like he's released all the tension in his body. Her hands flap in an aggravated manner as he walks towards her and takes the cigarette from her, taking a slow drag from it.

"You always call me Thomas when you're angry."

She feels her own mouth going to smile along with him, and then she remembers why her stomach hurts. "Don't say things like that to me now. Not after… this. Don't make me remember what we had… no matter what happens, that's gone now."

His face softens almost to the point where he looks like he'll kiss her again. "But we could have something else."

Her eyes well from the overload of emotions. She doesn't know if she's angry, devastated, confused, lost or all of the above. She just knows she's overwhelmed.

And she knows that he's wrong. They can't have this tenuous, new future their kiss had created. Not anymore. "No…we can't."

"I just need some time to think, Daisy. Give me some time."

"Time to what? You love Grace, and you would never turn your back on your child. You've already made your choice, even if you haven't realised it yet."

"I'm not sure if I do." When she doesn't respond and her eyebrows flatten, he elaborates. "Love her. I'm not sure if I love her."

"But you'll still stay with her. A baby, Tommy. A child. Your child. You wouldn't ever abandon them. Don't… Don't act like there's a choice in this."

He exhales shakily again, like he hates what she's saying. "I just need time to think. It might not even be my kid."

She smiles sadly. "You can't think your way out of this one, Tommy."

And with that, she backs away from him slowly, each step hurting her heart. She tries to raise her smile a little but finds her face frozen for fear she'll burst into tears. "I'll still work on Sabini for you. I'll tell Alfie of any information I can find."

At the mention of Sabini, his face tightens. "No, Dais, I don't want you near him anymore."

She almost rolls her eyes at him. "I told you before, I'm doing this because I love you. Because if I can help in any way to ease the million worries you have, I will. And now more than ever, you need London, Tommy. You need the income." Her heart breaks as she speaks again and the first tear finally falls. "You have a family to think of now."

He takes his own step backwards this time, as though the thought had only just occurred to him. "You were always my family. Give me time, Daisy. I'm not giving up on...whatever this is."

She pauses, and whispers words she'd never thought she would say. "Maybe it's time we both do."

He shakes his head like it's a ludicrous thought, throwing the cigarette to the floor. "Don't give up on us, Daisy." He turns away, his hands in his pockets. "Not when we've been through so much. Give me time to think. Trust me to fix this."

And he walks away from her this time, purpose in his stride.

She wants so badly to believe him, to trust him to fix this, but she knows already that he is too honourable to ever turn his back on Grace. With no way of determining the true father, he'll never turn his back on a child that is potentially his. He would never let the mother of his child raise their child alone. He is far more honourable, far more good, than he believes himself to be. But she knows him. She knows him better than he does.

He can't fix this. And soon, he'll realise it.

She tells herself that he is alive, and Grace can make him happy. He is alive and that should be enough for her. But when she arrives back to her luxurious suite, it's cold and uninviting, the room too quiet and the air too empty. Growing up, she'd always wanted to live somewhere this luscious, somewhere this expensive.

But now, all she wants is a small and cosy house in Small Heath, smoke billowing through the air, drunks shouting down the street and the horrid noise of factories permeating the air. She wants their dirty city over this fancy one.

As she sits on her bed, her shoulders begin to shake, and tears fall silently onto her knees; she's lost her fantasy...again. And for some reason, it hurts more this time.

He'll be alive and happy, she tells herself. Alive and happy. Alive. Alive.

Just not with her. She falls asleep with tears staining her satin pillowcase, not knowing if the hole inside her will ever go away.

She doesn't think so.

Yes, he is alive.

But she's not sure when she'll feel alive again.

Angst, angst, angst. I feel like the Potter Puppet Pals.

So it's short and somewhat heartbreaking but don't worry - I've said it before and I'll say it again, I am a sucker for a happy ending! I will fix this, I promise! Sorry for the delay, once again. For anyone who cares, my thesis was finally handed in today so I celebrated by writing this: words written for my own pleasure rather than writing about research.

I can't thank you all enough for your amazing, truly lovely comments for the last chapter. I am feeling much better now I've finally finished my Masters and have had some time at home. You were all so kind and understanding and I can't thank you enough. (And now I've posted such a depressing chapter, gosh I'm mean aren't I?)

I won't say "I hope you enjoyed it" because I don't think it's an enjoyable chapter, but it is necessary. This talk was never going to be pretty and it had to happen. Just trust me to fix this ;)

Thanks again for reading x

FUN FACT: This story is partially inspired by the film Dangerous Beauty. It's one of my favourites and I would highly recommend it if any of you guys are searching for films to watch!