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whentommymetalfie · 5 months

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Home to you -chapter 42

-Endings-

Prologue//1//2//3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39/40/41

Pairing: Tommy/Alfie

Summary: In the aftermath of Polly's visit, Alfie and Tommy make a decision.

Warnings: mental instability, hallucinations, suicidal ideation, past attempted suicide

Wordcount: 5,7 K

”Let him go, Tommy, let him cool off!”

Arthur grabs him from behind, tries to hold him back, keep him from going after Alfie. Tommy fights him, squirms and tugs at the arms. But Arthur is stronger, always been, even before Tommy became all skin and bone he’d struggle; now it’s like trying to push past a solid wall, nothing he does helps, and a desperate whine tear from his throat.

“Tommy, Tommy, shh, calm down, he just needs to walk it off. Give him some space.” Arthur holds him by shoulders, wraps one of his long arms across his chest in a vice like grip and Tommy doesn’t like being touched like this, Arthur’s hurting him and he won’t- won’t listen

“Alfie!” he calls, but Alfie doesn’t come, because Alfie needs him this time, and he has to make Arthur understand.

“I have to- let me go,” he begs and wriggles to get out of Arthur’s grip.

“He’s not right in the head, at least not right now. He might- he could hurt you,” Arthur pleads, holding him tighter until he can barely breathe. Tommy hunches over and bites his arm. With a shout, Arthur releases him and he bolts, runs through the hallway and the corridor leading to the kitchen, but there, Arthur catches up and grabs his wrist.

“No!” Tommy screams, a shrill and desperate cry that makes Arthur release his arm as if he’s burnt himself, and the sound shocks him into stillness for a moment. He stumbles backwards, catches himself against the table, Arthur blocks the way forward, stands there still with his hands outstretched.

“Tommy, please listen to me-“

“No, no, Alfie- Alfie needs me,” he says, and it still feels strange, as if it’s not his own voice, not him talking. He looks over Arthur’s shoulder, towards the living room and the open glass doors.

“Then I’m coming with you. I’m not letting you run off into the dark alone. Not again. Not to find someone who might potentially lose it.”

“Alfie would never hurt me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do,” Tommy says and stares straight into Arthur’s eyes. Arthur grits his teeth. Stares back. But then he sighs

“Fine. If you say so.” He lowers his hands, lets them hang along his sides, and Tommy takes the chance and runs. This time, Arthur doesn’t try to grab him. He calls Alfie’s name again, feels tears burning in his eyes, without Alfie here it feels like the ground has dropped beneath his feet. Through the living room and the open doors, he runs into the darkness, doesn’t even realize until he’s halfway across the lawn that it scares him, makes it feel as though his feet are sinking into the shadows, but it doesn’t matter, he needs to find Alfie.

When he reaches the outer edges of the garden and the low stone wall he first sees a foot, an outstretched leg and then all of him. Alfie is sat leaned against the wall, chest heaving in slow, breaths, jaw clenched. His gaze flickers briefly to Tommy.

“Just need- need a second, love,” he says, voice thick, closes his eyes and presses the heels of his hands into them, gritting his teeth. For a second, Tommy hesitates. He does what Alfie tells him, always does, Alfie knows best, and perhaps he should leave him alone. But then Alfie’s shoulders quake with a strangled sob, and it’s all it takes for him to make up his mind. He sits down by his side and wraps his arm around his shoulders. Alfie leans into the touch, hugs him tightly and pulls him closer and up onto his lap, holds him so tightly that it squeezes the air from his lungs. But that doesn’t matter, because for once he knows he’s doing the right thing, that he’s helping. Alfie buries his face in the crook of his neck as he cries.

It's frightening, hearing Alfie cry, he’s never cried before. And he holds onto Tommy like a man drowning.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers between sobs, and what is he sorry for? Aunt Polly, maybe, but Tommy could never hold that against him. Alfie wanted to protect him. And when it truly mattered, he listened. Tommy runs his fingers through Alfie’s hair, relaxing into the embrace. Doesn’t have the right words to say, but it feels like it’s enough to just be there. Let Alfie hold onto him.

Eventually the sobs ebb out. By then, his shirt front is wet with tears. Alfie pulls out of the hug slightly, and Tommy hesitates for a moment before wiping the tears away with his thumb and leaning into kiss his temple. Alfie rests his head against the wall and closes his eyes, breathing slowly now. But he still holds tightly onto Tommy, so he stays on his lap and lays his head on his shoulder. The night air is cold, but Alfie is warm, and the sky is full of stars. He hadn’t noticed before.

Alfie wipes a hand over his face and looks towards the sky.

“Remember- no, you probably don’t, but back home, we sat an entire night out on the steps because you couldn’t sleep. Liked to sit out there, didn’t you, watching the stars.”

“I remember,” he whispers, teeth clattering together. Alfie looks at him, and smiles slightly.

“Become right the chatterbox, haven’t you? Been quiet for so long now that I reckon you’ve got plenty of things to say.”

At that, Tommy huffs, because at least with Alfie he understands when it’s one of his jokes. Alfie smiles wider. Alfie’s smile is like the sun. He rubs Tommy’s back.

“Fuck, you’re freezing. Barefoot and all. And in just your nightshirt. Who gave you permission to walk around like that, hm?”

Tommy looks pointedly at Alfie’s feet, which also are bare.

“Yeah, but I’ve got a layer of protection, see,” Alfie says and pats his belly. “Go on, let’s get inside. I’d carry you, but I think both my fucking legs are asleep by now.”

Tommy gets up and offers a hand to Alfie, who takes it, but uses the wall for support to get up. He pulls Tommy against his side and they walk back towards the house together.

“Fuck, something’s happened. I just know it. If he’s not back in one fucking minute, I’m going out looking.”

Arthur is pacing the kitchen, where apparently half the household has gathered: a bleary-eyed Finn is sat by the table, Esther is making tea, looking as alert as if she’d been awake for hours and Lizzie is stood before Arthur with her arms crossed and a tense expression on her face.

“That won’t be necessary,” Alfie says and Tommy huddles closer to him as several pairs of eyes focus on him. “Got him right here, safe and sound.”

Arthur’s entire body seems to sag with relief.

“You okay, Tommy?” Lizzie asks. “I heard what she- what happened. With Polly.”

“Can’t fucking believe she’d do that,” Finn mutters.

“Well, she’s clearly lost it,” Arthur says. “Raving about bloody voices and-“ he cuts himself off. Clears his throat. “Ada’s getting her home, at least.”

“Do you want a cup of tea, mr. Solomons?” Esther asks and pours a cup for Finn at the table. “What about you, Tommy dear? Something to warm you up a little.”

Feeling utterly lost for a moment, Tommy looks to Alfie for answers. Alfie gives him a look back, raises his brow in question. He squeezes his arm twice.

“No, thank you, Esther, but I think we’ll just head off to bed,” Alfie says. “Been a bit of an ordeal, this.”

“I heard that you’re talking again, Tommy?” Lizzie asks, and he nods. She smiles crookedly. “But not right now?”

“He’s just tired,” Alfie says and rubs his back. “We’ll talk more in the morning, alright?”

They get a chorus of goodnights in response, and Alfie takes him upstairs, to the bathroom where he helps him wash the grass off his feet with hot water. Helps get them warmer, too. Tommy sits on the stool next to the tub afterwards, eyes only half open as Alfie steps into the tub and does the same to his own feet. He rubs his eyes. They sting with weariness now when all the adrenaline is gone. Alfie smiles.

“Let’s get to bed, hm, love?”

Guided by Alfie, Tommy drops his damp shirt and underwear somewhere along the way to the bed and virtually collapses in a heap onto the mattress. Soon he’s tucked underneath all the blankets with Alfie wrapped around him in a protective hug, an arm around his back and a hand buried in his hair.

“So, sweetheart, I’ve been thinking,” Alfie says, voice soft. “And, this is a mere suggestion, but I think it’s about time we went back home. Because between this fucking ordeal, your brother walking in on us this morning, and the all around chaos- Well, let’s just say, as much as I’ve come to fucking tolerate your family, I think I’ve just about had it with them for now. And I do think you’d benefit from some peace and quiet. So, what do you say?”

Home.

The word makes his heart flutter with something strange and foreign that he barely recognizes at first, but it elicits a strange sound between a laugh and a sob and he nods into Alfie’s chest.

“Yeah? You want to go home?”

“Yes,” he whispers and Alfie squeezes him tightly. Tommy lifts his head to look up at him through the darkness. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow evening,” Alfie says. Takes his chin in his hand and runs his thumb along his jaw. “Ishmael’s got the car in Birmingham. And knowing Esther, I think she’d like to have a few hours to get the house in order. But yeah, tomorrow. Though considering how many times I’ve failed to keep that fucking promise, I’m not saying anything until we’re in the bloody car.”

Tommy lays his head back on Alfie’s chest and melts into his embrace as he begins stroking his back.

“It’s not true, what she said, your aunt,” Alfie whispers suddenly. “Alright? I need you to know that.”

“I’m tired,” Tommy says and closes his eyes to indicate he doesn’t want to broach that subject. If it were up to him, he’d wake up tomorrow and find that it’s all faded from his memory like a bad dream, the way Polly looked at him. Said things that so well mimicked what the voices always tell him, to the point she might as well have been one of them. He just wants to forget all of it. But it’s a naïve thought, of course. It’s carved into the deepest crevices of his mind.

Alfie kisses the top of his head.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow. Want me to read you something?” he asks, yawning, and Tommy tries to manage a reply. But before he’s figured out how to make one, he’s fallen into an exhausted sleep. And for once, it’s one without dreams.

…

When he wakes up, he’s dazed and utterly lost, feeling disconnected from his own body. Thankfully it’s Alfie’s footsteps coming across the floor that wakes him, so he’s not alone. Tommy blinks and sees that his mouth is moving, but it takes a while before he can make sense of the words. Talking about the travel arrangements, Alfie is. At least he thinks so. Esther’s already left; insisted she wanted at least a few hours with the house to herself, to get things in order, wouldn’t take no for an answer, and so had taken the first available train. He’s been asleep for a long time. Past lunchtime. Alfie tells him all of this as he sets down a tray with his breakfast on the nightstand and Tommy’s a bit too dazed to quite make sense of all the logistics, but clings to the important bit: Ishmael will have the car ready no later than four this afternoon and then they can go home.

After helping him into a clean flannel shirt, Alfie sits with him on the bed as Tommy does his best to eat his porridge, Alfie’s arm around his shoulders, his hand coming up ever so often to pet his hair. Once he’s eaten all he can manage, Tommy lays his head on his shoulder and closes his eyes. It’s so heavy, his head. As if the memories of last night have added physical weight to it. Each of Polly’s words, a ton each…

He's on the verge of nodding off again when there’s a knock on the door, and he opens his eyes to find his older brother stood on the threshold.

“Heard you were going home today,” Arthur says. “So I figured- I just- could I have a word with you, Tom? Alone.” He gives Alfie a look. Alfie glares back, but when Tommy gently squeezes his arm, he presses a quick kiss onto his forehead and climbs off the bed, taking the tray along with him on his way to the door. Arthur steps aside to let him pass, but the two exchange yet another frosty look before Alfie closes the door behind him.

Shoulders tense, Arthur slowly approaches the bed, hesitates for a second, and then sits down on the edge, somewhere around the middle. Close, but not too close. Tommy finds himself with his knees drawn to his chest, back against the headboard. He waits for Arthur to say something. The silence in the room grows thicker with every second until Arthur finally sighs.

“I should’ve gone after you,” he says and stares at the floor. “That night. I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for not doing that.”

Tommy digs his nails into his palms. Icy dread fills him as the memories begin flicking before his eyes, even as he tries to push them to the back of his mind where they belong.

“And I’m not asking you to forgive me. But I want you to know that I’m sorry, for all of it,” Arthur goes on. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come and see you, when you were just- afterwards. At Arrow House. Don’t have any explanations, other than I was just a fucking coward. Couldn’t face that what I did- that I didn’t see, didn’t want to fucking see. That I didn’t do something. And I’m sorry that I’ve done such a shitty job at taking care of you since you came back. Can’t seem to fucking get it right. And sorry that I’ve never been there when you needed me That I’ve been such a shitty big brother.”

Arthur stops talking. He’s kept his gaze at the floor until then, hands alternating between gripping his knees and laying clenched on his lap, but now he glances up at Tommy. Who doesn’t know what to say. He should say that it’s okay, he doesn’t deserve Arthur’s apologies, anyone’s apologies.

But it’s true. Arthur let him go, left him alone when he needed him, didn’t come to find him- No one came

seconds that melted into endless minutes hours and days all at once as he lay there in the mud, bits of his brain leaking out into the soil, blood seeping in hot trails down his face until it too was swallowed by the earth, the pain pulling him under for only brief, blissful moments of nothing.

All night, he knows now, all night he lay there and no one came

“Why should they have gone looking for you?” Grace whispers. “You know they were happy to be rid of you.”

“It’s okay,” he says finally and Arthur slams his palm against the mattress with a deft sound that causes him to flinch.

“It’s not, Tommy!” he says. “Fucks sake, you’ve got to have some self-respect left!”

Arthur’s raised voice makes his heart race. Brings up memories of cowering against the wall as Arthur shouts at him, Tommy, snap out of it, of Arthur hitting him. Is always too rough whenever he grabs him, as if there’s hidden anger behind every touch and Tommy pushes himself against the headboard of the bed as if he could put himself out of reach as Arthur’s voice rises to a shout, “You could’ve died! Because I let you go in the first place, and because it’s a wonder you survived laying in that cold fucking field all night with a bloody hole in your head. Don’t ever fucking say that any of that was okay!”

“Don’t shout at me,” Tommy pleads, barely managing more than a whisper, but Arthur snaps his mouth shut around his last word.

“Sorry, fuck, you see?” he says, then. “I’m- I don’t mean to do that. Just keeps happening and I don’t know how to… bearound you.” He reaches for him and Tommy can’t stop himself from flinching, despite the desperate glow in Arthur’s eyes as he drops the hand to his lap.

“I’m sorry,” he says, again. “And I get that you might not know- You don’t have to say anything about it, is what I mean. But none of it was fucking okay. And I should’ve said I was sorry a long time ago.”

Arthur clears his throat and gets off the bed.

“Well, I’ll let you… Yeah. I just needed you to know that,” he says without looking at him, and quickly makes his way to the door, closing it softly as he leaves the room.

…

Tommy needs to say goodbye to Ruby and Charlie before they leave. He owes them as much, he knows, no one needs to tell him, but when Lizzie brings the matter to him, as he sits with Alfie in the kitchen waiting for the hours to pass and their car to arrive, the feeling is nothing short of sheer panic.

“I’ve already talked to them, several times, they won’t ask too many questions,” Lizzie promises him, evidently seeing right through him. “They just want to say a quick goodbye. Finn promised to take them to the stables afterwards, so they’re already preoccupied by that idea.”

Tommy nods, but he doesn’t know how he’s going to do this without completely falling apart. Alfie rubs his back.

“You’re not letting them down, treacle,” he says as Lizzie disappears to fetch the kids. “It’s for the best, alright? We’ve been over this. For now, you’ve got to focus on just fucking recovering from all this.”

Grace cocks her head ever so slightly, stood by the kitchen counter. “You know you’d only hurt them by staying. You’ve got nothing to offer anyone. You can’t take care of them. You can’t even take care of yourself.”

“Stop,” Tommy whispers, it just slips out, even though he’s not supposed to talk to them. Alfie furrows his brow but as he opens his mouth, Charlie trots into the kitchen with Cyril next to him and Ruby in tow, hanging onto Cyril by one of the many folds around his neck. Lizzie stays in the doorway, supervising with her arms crossed over her chest, leaned against the doorframe.

“Uncle Finn is taking us to the stables!” Charlie announces happily as he comes over to where Tommy’s sitting, virtually bouncing up and down before the chair.

“That’s good,” Tommy manages.

“Yes, because there’s always lots to do in the stables, so it’s good that we can help,” Charlie says and Tommy nods in agreement. Both kids look expectantly at him but he doesn’t know what to say. How to say it. His insides are already in knots and now his throat closes up as it so often does when he can’t find the right words. Any words at all. He doesn’t even have to look to Alfie for help before he speaks up.

“Your mum’s told you that your dad’s going away to rest, hasn’t she?” he says, and Charlie nods slowly, furrowing his brow. Ruby mirrors her brother’s expression. Tommy carefully slides off the chair onto his knees to get on Charlie’s eyelevel, and pets Cyril’s big head. The dog leans into the touch.

“Mum says dad’s going to live with you,” Ruby says and squints up at Alfie.

“Yeah, well, he needs someone to look after him, you see. Sometimes people need a bit of help if they’re going to get better, right, when they’re not doing well.”

Charlie nods slowly, biting the nail on his right thumb.

“Do you live in a pirate ship?” Ruby asks.

Alfie chuckles. “Now that’d be something, wouldn’t it? No, just a regular old house. But it’s by the sea.”

“Mummy says you have to go, or you could get really, really sick again and just lie in bed. Like before,” Charlie says and looks at Tommy with big eyes, still with the tip of his thumb in his mouth. “Do you promise you’ll get better, if you go?”

Tommy bites the inside of his cheek and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. Clenches his hands into fists until his nails cut into his skin. Keep it fucking together. Just another minute. He can’t fall apart like this, doesn’t want to scare them. And he tries to drown out the voices telling him he’s already done enough damage.

“I promise,” he says, and hopes his voice sounds steadier than it feels, he can’t tell, but Charlie’s brow smooths out so it couldn’t have been that bad. Alfie hunches over on his chair, elbows resting on his knees as he looks at Charlie.

“And I tell you what, seeing as it’s not a pirate ship, there’s a phone in the house. And you can call, whenever you want.” Charlie’s entire face lights up.

“Can we visit too?” he asks, and Tommy’s just about to say yes when Lizzie beats him to it.

“When daddy’s feeling better,” she says. There’s a slight crease between her eyebrows that Tommy doesn’t understand, but he nods in agreement when Charlie looks to him for confirmation.

“And you’ll come see our new house?” he asks, and Tommy nods again. Attempts to smile but isn’t sure if he succeeds.

“Of course,” he says.

Ruby’s brow is still furrowed. She releases Cyril’s fur and tugs at Alfie’s pant leg.

“Will you make sure the bad people don’t hurt daddy ever again?”

“I will,” Alfie answers solemnly, giving Ruby his full attention. She puts on an even more serious look, that Alfie mimics.

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

Satisfied, Ruby nods and goes back to holding onto Cyril who patiently stays in place, panting ever so slightly. Charlie is looking thoughtfully at Tommy and he forces himself to meet his gaze, where in that moment, something old and almost ancient seems to glint under the surface. Tommy desperately wishes he could wipe that look away. Wishes he could’ve done a single thing right where his kids are concerned. Given Charlie and Ruby all those things he never had, growing up. It’s all he’s ever wanted. Instead, he’s only tried and failed to do right by them. At least now, he won’t be able to do more damage. Perhaps that’s the best thing he can offer.

“Think you’re ready to go to the stables now?” Lizzie asks from the doorway. “Bet Snowball is really looking forward to seeing you.”

Ruby squeals with joy as if she’d completely forgotten and this was a great surprise. She throws her arms around Tommy in a tight hug, chirps a quick ‘bye daddy’ and runs off towards the hallway and the front door.

Charlie hugs him next, for a long time.

“Are you sure there’s a phone?” he asks into Tommy’s chest. Tommy rubs his back.

“I’m absolutely sure,” he says and smiles when Charlie pulls away to look at him. And thinks he manages this time, because Charlie also smiles, and whatever was in his eyes has gone again. Tommy ruffles his hair. “Go say hi to the horses from me.”

After another hug, and a wave in Alfie’s direction, Charlie sets off with Cyril in tow, and Tommy barely has time to get up on unsteady feet before Finn comes into the kitchen and pulls him into a tight hug without a word.

Tommy’s still amazed at how tall he’s gotten, surprised each time his nose ends up somewhere around his chest.

“Keep in touch, will you?” Finn says, voice thick. “Don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to just… let me know you’re okay. Have Alfie call.”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, and he still has to remind himself to continue talking, if he stops it’ll be hard to start again. He’ll forget how to. Finn squeezes him one last time and pulls out of the hug. Alfie comes up to him and holds out a hand.

“Take care of yourself, alright,” he says as they shake hands. “Right? Got to even out the ratio of Shelbys in full control of their faculties. Ada and Lizzie are gonna need you to help keep that brother of yours in line.”

Finn nods curtly. It’s strange, seeing him stone faced and serious. All grown up. “Look after my brother,” he says, and it’s Alfie’s turn to nod. Thankfully without any of his usual quips.

“Uncle Finn!” Ruby’s voice comes from the hallway. “Charlie won’t let me sit in the front seat but it’s my turn, tell him!”

“Better go keep the peace,” Finn says and smiles, the ice melting from his eyes as he clears his throat. “See you for dinner, Liz?”

Lizzie nods, and Finn leaves. Tommy feels Alfie’s hand on his arm and he allows himself to be led to a chair by the table where he sinks down, head spinning.

When he looks down at his trembling hands, he finds them full of bloody crescent moons from his nails.

…

He spends the rest of the day sat by the kitchen window waiting, eyes on the driveway. Alfie lets him. Just coaxes him into eating a little something and drinking a few cups of tea. At half past three, two cars finally pull up on the driveway. He doesn’t recognize which one is Alfie’s, but he recognizes Ishmael, who climbs out of the driver’s seat on the Mercedes. When Alfie goes to meet him, Tommy follows close behind, holding onto the back of his sleeve. They meet Ishmael in the hallway and him and Alfie exchange a few phrases in Hebrew. Ishmael hands over a set of keys to Alfie.

“You haven’t changed your mind, Sir?” he asks. “About driving down by yourself?”

“No, no, honestly getting to sit in peace and fucking quiet and drive for a few hours sounds like a dream right about now. Just get the luggage sorted,” Alfie says and nods towards the single suitcase on the floor.

Lizzie appears in the hallway just as Ishmael’s climbed into the second car and the driver’s turned it around to disappear down the road.

“I know Ada would like to see you before you go,” she says. “She said she’d be home in the afternoon. Think you could give her another hour?”

Tommy finds himself looking to Alfie, who sighs and puts his coat back on the hanger.

“Fine, fine, what’s another hour, hm?” he says. “We’ll put on another bloody kettle.”

Half an hour later, Ada’s car comes driving down the gravel road towards the house, and Alfie herds Tommy out the front door the moment it stops on the driveway, hanging his coat over his shoulders as they go, despite the warm summer air. Appearing silently behind them, Lizzie follows them out onto the driveway.

“You’re leaving?” Ada asks as she closes the car door and comes to meet them.

“Yeah. Think it’s about time,” Alfie says. “Just figured we’d stay and say goodbye first.”

“I’m glad you did,” she says, and adds, “I had to make sure Polly got home okay. We’ve left enough family members to fend for themselves lately. I’m not making that mistake again.”

Alfie’s face darkens. Tommy steps closer to him, until their arms touch. For his own sake just as much as Alfie’s.

“She’s grieving Michael,” Ada says. And he can tell she’s trying to catch his gaze but he can’t bear to look up from the gravel “It’s not- she’s not thinking straight. She didn’t mean any of that.”

“Oh, sounded like she fucking meant it alright,” Alfie says. “And there are no, fucking no excuses for speaking to Tommy that way. Especially after all the damage her fucking son caused, right, which she in no way tried to stop, might I remind you. Don’t stand there defending her.”

“I’m not-“

“Well it sure as fuck seems like it.” Tommy hugs Alfie’s arm and he snaps his mouth shut around the words. He sighs. “Fine, fine, let’s just get the goodbyes over with. Before something else happens that delays this whole thing.”

Closing the distance between them, Ada comes to give Tommy a hug, hesitantly as if she thinks he might bolt. But when he doesn’t pull away she holds him tighter. Tommy only then manages to return the hug.

“Take care of yourself, Tom,” Ada whispers. Squeezes him one more time before breaking the hug and taking a step back, allowing Lizzie to take her place.

Lizzie isn’t as hesitant. There’s a new ease to her movements as she embraces him, enveloping him in a cloud of her perfume. And she smiles at him. “Me and Charlie will give you a ring Saturday,” she says “And if you’re not up for talking I bet Alfie can do most of that.”

“Of course. Happens to be one of my areas of expertise, that,” Alfie says. Him and Lizzie shake hands.

“Well, I’d like to thank you for your hospitality and for putting up with us for so long,” he says and takes Ada’s hand. “Goes for both of you, of course.”

“We’ll come and visit. When, if, you’re feeling up for it, Tommy,” Ada says. “And maybe one at a time. I’ve got it on good authority we can be a bit much.”

Alfie steps back to wrap his arm around Tommy’s shoulders. He’s grateful to have the secure weight back there.

“Speaking of being a bit much,” Alfie says and looks around. “Where’s big brother, then? Thought he’d want to show his face too.”

They all look to Lizzie for answers, but she simply shrugs. Alfie grunts. “Right, but he’s made his choice, then. Let’s get going before we’re stuck here for another week.”

Tommy allows Alfie to lead him to the passenger seat of the car and tries to not let it bother him that Arthur’s not here. It’s fine. Arthur struggles with goodbyes. It’s stupid to expect anything from him…

Alfie opens the door for him and he climbs into the front seat.

“Got a blanket here, love, if you get cold,” Alfie says and reaches over him to the back seat, putting the blanket on his lap. Runs his hand over his cheek in passing, before going around the car to the driver’s seat. Though he only has time to climb in and start adjusting the rearview mirror before the front door opens and Arthur appears between Lizzie and Ada on the steps.

“Hold up!” Arthur calls. Alfie sighs audibly. Glances at him, and melts when Tommy gives him a pleading look.

“Fine, go say goodbye to your brother.”

Tommy climbs back out as Arthur strides across the gravel towards the car, only to stop a few paces away from him. Whatever he’d planned to say, he seems to have forgotten. And Tommy doesn’t know what to say either. They end up in a long stretch of silence.

“Have a safe trip,” Arthur says, finally.

“Okay,” Tommy says. And feels stupid.

Then they’re back to standing quietly across from each other. Arthur rubs the back of his neck. Allows his arms to hang by his sides. And after a deep breath, Tommy takes the few steps that separate them, wraps his arms around his older brother’s chest and hugs him. Arthur lets out a surprised noise. Freezes up briefly, before returning the hug, tucking Tommy’s head against his chest.

When Tommy pulls out of the hug, Arthur audibly sniffles. Just once.

“Go on, better go back to the car before Solomons glares a fucking hole through my forehead,” he says and ruffles his hair. With Arthur following behind, Tommy climbs back into the car. Arthur holds onto the door and hunches over to set his eyes on Alfie.

“You take care of my brother, Solomons, you hear that? Or we’re gonna have an issue. Doesn’t matter if you’re all the way down in fucking Margate.”

“Sure, sure, Arthur,” Alfie says. “Have no doubt that you’ll come barging when we least expect it.”

“I’m serious. If I find out- if you as much as fucking think about hurting him I’ll-“

“Arthur, please,” Tommy says before his older brother can get any redder in the face. To his credit, Arthur does shut up. Clears his throat.

“Right. Sorry. Just- check in every once in a while, hm? Give me some peace of mind.”

“Of course,” Alfie says, with a completely solemn expression that makes Arthur wrinkle his brow in suspicion. But then, he nods and closes the door. Goes to stand on the front steps with Ada and Lizzie.

Alfie turns to him, face soft again. He brushes away a lock of hair that’s fallen over his eyes. It’s gotten so long, the hair on top of his head. “What do you say, love? You ready to go home?”

“Yeah.”

Alfie starts the car. Tommy looks back only once as they drive down the gravel road. At Ada who waves. Lizzie who’s smiling ever so slightly. And Arthur who’s blinking frantically. Then he relaxes into his seat, turned to the side so that he can set his eyes on Alfie, and the way the sunlight catches in the silvery strands of his beard.

Alfie shifts gears as he pulls out onto the road, and then reaches to lay a hand on his thigh. Tommy puts his own hand on top of.

They’re finally on their way back to Margate. Home.

#tommy x alfie #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby #alfie solomons #breathe again verse #home to you

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