I'm back ya'll!
After a very painful end of semester in college I was finally able to get this done! It also took me a while to get the content on this chapter right, if you read the last one you know it deals with mental health issues that I have never experienced before so it was important to me to do a lot of research on it. (Trigger Warning for Panic Attacks)
That being said, I went by the experience of only one of my friends and things that the testimonies of Reddit told me so, it is definitely not an accurate description of everyone's perspectives so be aware.
Thank you so much to Gigi for sharing her experiences, to Juh and Wandertogondor for their input on my writing! I couldn't do without you guys.

Happy Reading!

Tommy was at the top of the world and then he was at his own grave site. Clashing images and sounds dulled by the thumping of his heart, by pulsing pain in his chest. A sharp swell of sound. He almost got everything. Every fucking thing. He almost had Grace and the races and revenge, but he lost it. He lost control, he didn't catch the signs, he allowed Lizzie to be hurt, he wasn't there in time.

It made him sick, his incompetence. He prided himself on fucking thinking didn't he? When had that ever worked for his family, eh? His thinking had gotten them with a noose around their necks, hate around their eyes, bullets on their chests. Grace and John's lives, Arthur's sanity.

Tommy wanted, — no — needed a smoke but his hands trembled too much. His hands, he looked down, were pressed against his chest wrapped around another's hand. Oh fuck, Anna! Another one he needed to help. Except that was stupid because he was in no shape to help anyone! Why did people keep asking him for that? Help. He had become a bumbling fool that couldn't control his own thoughts for long enough to stop this endless attack! He needed more opium, or dope, or… something because this was going to happen again. Oh God it was going to happen again! When? Could he predict it? Could he fight it? His breath quickened.

Anna, right, pay attention Shelby the lady is talking to you! What does she want again? How long has she been calling his name? He did remember her asking something about touching… could she touch him? Yeah, that was it. Had he answered her? Well he must have, right? Her hand was in his so he probably said yes. Why would he though? Why would he allow her to see him in this state? Why was it that she always caught him in the most undignified of states, for that matter?

"Tommy…" Focus! His eyes found hers.

"Tommy, does your left arm hurt?"

His arm. Did it hurt? How the fuck should he know that? He could barely feel anything beyond his hands on hers, it was almost as if his body wasn't real. If the situation wasn't real. That would be nice. It could be one of his dreams. He would love that, he could wake up from those. Oh God, was he saying this? Did he actually miss the nightmares? This was worse than he thought it would be.

Anna still looked concerned, why was that again? Right, he owed her an answer. Did his left arm hurt. Why did that matter again? Was he dying? It had felt like he was, a while ago. Before this little room, but no… he knew what this was, it happened to Danny all the time right after the war. He would be convinced that he would die and then he would go fucking crazy and attack people on the street… Was that going to be him? This was going to happen again, he knew it was, it was useless to hope otherwise with his luck. His fucking luck!

Her hand moved in his. His left hand. That did hurt a little from clutching hers in a vice for so long… that was embarrassing, but also good because his arm didn't. His chest hurt and breathing hurt and the light in his eyes hurt because he didn't seem to be able to blink enough but his arm was fine.

He shook his head at her.

"Okay, that is good." Her soothing voice came over him with the blessing of rhythmic circles on the back of his hand. How long had it been since he allowed himself any comfort? Ha, comfort! He didn't deserve that, he almost killed his own family, he watched them get arrested in front of him and he did nothing to prevent it. He allowed Esme to take his nephews away, and he was right to do so because they were safer with crazy Esme than around him, he deserved no comfort. Comfort died with Grace.

And now, beyond a selfish arsehole he was a crazy one! He should never have taken the fucking vacation! Serves him right for listening to advice from fucking Arthur. Arthur, who married Linda of his own free will, that let her convince him to stop drinking and start repenting. There was no repenting, not for people like them. Or maybe it did, for his brother, Arthur was crazy but good hearted. A well trained dog, and he was its master. Every despicable action Arthur had taken after France was either instigated or allowed by Tommy and he prided himself on it.

'These days people tell me things without even opening their mouths' Ha! And what do you tell them without saying anything eh Tommy? What do you tell them by freaking out after the starting shot in a race? Tommy Shelby, that took Billy Kimber out of his fucking throne in order to rule the fucking races that couldn't attend anymore? Not without crumbling. What message was that?

"I think you're having a panic attack Tommy. I know it feels awful, but it will pass, okay? I promise." She had no right to promise things like that. It wouldn't! The crisis might pass, and maybe he would breathe again but this wouldn't go away. This awareness that he wasn't infallible anymore was the norm now. How would he trust himself now? He needed to trust his choices to do what he did.

Sure, because that worked really fucking well for Lizzie last time she came to the races right? He was so sure of his timing despite the thousands of things that could go wrong, that could delay him. But he was sure! Just like he was sure Chagretta couldn't get to Grace and he was sure he could manipulate the fucking king in time. Well, he had done that… But at what fucking cost? Was it really better to have saved Polly's life if she almost lost her sanity in the time it took him to be infallible?

"I know, hard to believe, but it will! Start by breathing with me." Right, breathing was a good idea. Except breathing hurt and he wanted to tell her that, but the words wouldn't come, so he just... stared, desperate. "We'll breathe in for 5 seconds, hold it for 5 seconds and breathe out for 5 okay? Follow my lead." Suddenly their hands were against her chest and she was showing him how to breathe. Tommy tried to follow.

Except of course he couldn't. His breaths were short, painfull, choppy and, judging by the headache forming behind his eyes, not very effective. She never stopped though. Anna squeezed his hands with intimacy that he hadn't been able to feel in a long time. Wasn't that pathetic?

"Okay, come on, you can do it! In…" She counted to him "And out…" And Tommy wanted to hate her for it. He wanted to scream that he didn't need her guidance for such a basic human function. Except of course, for the fact that he absolutely did, and the very thought of separating from her brought that fear again. The fear that his thoughts would never stop spinning.

So he kept his eyes on her. What else was there?

Her eyes were very dark. Though that could be the lighting. Anna's hair was usually loose around her face, a fact he only noticed because it wasn't now. Now, her hair was pulled back in some style he couldn't quite see. He could, however, see the wisps of the curling halo of strands around her face. That brought attention to her features, her light brown skin that glistened with drops of sweat, the wrinkles on her forehead that he had noticed on her face before, always coupled with a slight twist of her pink lips. Concern.

She was worried about him. Well of course she was, he would be worried too if he had crossed God knows how many centuries to get to a mess of a man like him. He could just send her away. Tommy knew Anna would never hurt him to get what she wanted, it just wasn't her way. She...cared. Well, so much easier then, he could just send her away, wait for the signs of war and then… hide. He had no qualms about being a coward anymore. Tommy could give up a throne to survive a war.

He was going to send her away.

"Good, I'm not so scared that you will pass out now. Which is good. You wouldn't want that here, now would you? By the way, where are we Tommy?" That brought him out of his line of thinking.

Didn't she know? They were at the races right? It was the last place he remembered being, were they somewhere else? It was a very small, dark room, could they have been taken? Were they in danger this whole time? Wait, no, that didn't make any sense. She wouldn't sound this calm if they should be running… right?

"Come on dude, help me out here." She squeezed his hand a little. So they were safe. Well, why the fuck should he answer it if they both knew then?

"You know where." He whispered.

"Fine, tell me something I don't know then." Anna smiled, her voice sounded lighter. There was laughter in it. How could she laugh? A woman with the actual weight of the world's destiny in her hands.

Should he tell her now then? Tell her to go? He would ruin that smile. If there was something Tommy knew in this life was what he wanted, and telling her to go was not it. He wanted to tell her why the races made him edgy. He wanted to explain to her how killing this man called Hitler might not feel like a win because the place they were in was his greatest accomplishment and he hated it.

Tommy wanted her to be safe, away from him like he had kept Grace. He wanted to ask her about the future and was also terrified of learning exactly how inconsequential he was to her time. How little he had mattered. She had said that from the beginning. Something about how they still remember Al Capone but his name was forgotten. For the first time in a long time he wanted to tell something to someone but he was also finally facing his absolute inability to do so.

'Yeah but you know what solitude has brought you. What do you want, Tommy?' he thought. He took his hand back from hers. If she was about to leave, he didn't want her hand to pull away first.

"Lizzie won't come to the races with me anymore." He wanted the loneliness to stop. The cigarette he lit wasn't warm enough. He needed more. "I don't blame her." Women, no, people seemed to never stop asking him to reveal himself. Well, let's start with the worst thing he had ever done.

Anna kept her silence.

"Aren't you going to ask me why?" He looked at her through the dimming light.

"No." Her voice sounded a little… distressed?

"Why?"

"Well because you just had a fucking panic attack, something I only have superficial knowledge over. I could make you worse just by asking you about a trigger and I can't even send you to a therapist because it will be at least another 40 years before they stop indiscriminately shocking people into oblivion" Her eyes were wide and her voice definitely lacked the calm it had had just a few minutes ago. "So, if you want to tell me something about yourself Tommy, by all means, I could use a friend and so could you, but I'm not forcing my own version of psychoanalysis on someone I know as little as you.

"My friends don't last very long Ms. Strauss." The last really good friend he had ever had, married his sister and then died. He gave up after that. You could only trust family because even Freddie had betrayed him in the end with fucking socialism. And, of course, there was Lizzie… Lizzie used to be his friend.

"You don't know what friendship is, Mr. Shelby" She said with laughter in her voice.

"I just said that."

"No, you said that your friends always die, but they aren't really friends are they? You have enemies, puppets and family. Sometimes they are one in the same and that is why our little arrangement isn't working all that well. You don't trust me enough to follow-no, not even that- to listen to my advice." Her hands went up and the small flame flickered with the movement.

"I'm not in the habit of arming my associates with trust Anna"

Her face came closer to his, her breath starting to feel familiar against his skin."I thought you were a betting man"

Silence fell between them and his heart was racing again, but this time it didn't hurt. Minutes, or maybe seconds, ticked by at their impasse.

"Trusting me is just as dangerous." He said in defeat.

"I'm okay with those odds." She moved back a little and extended a hand for him to shake and he did. What else was there to do?

"Good, now, why don't we go to that fancy house of yours, have some tea and plan this assassination?

When will I post next?
That's a secret I'll never tell
XOXO
DryFics ;)

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