In The Bleak Midwinter || Part 13
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,  Part 11 & Part 12
Announcement Please See Note BelowâŠ
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader
Warning: Adult situations, flashbacks, mentions trauma, talk of abortion, Violence
Gif Credit: @thomasshelbyltd  @cillianmurphydaily  @peakyblindersdaily   @sikanapanele  Thank you for letting me use your beautiful gifs!
Tag: @lainey-laneâ, @pindlemouse, @ thelastemzy, @helloandreabeth, @fandoms-broke-my-life,  @shelbysbushblog, @accio-witty-username, @iamtheonewhocares, @infinitelycharmed23, @kingsmanstories, @shelby-gin-limited, @taylxr0, @sympathyfortheblinderdevil, @neversleeping4am, @icebluegriffin  @johhnshelby, @ subhamamu @ unicorn-glitter-princess @thatsamegirl, @mafaldaz, @cafe-sabor-a-chocolate,  @collegecatlady,  @20th-centu-fairy-girl, @xlightning-disasterx @niiight-dreamerrrr @i-shouldbepainting @dermittts @stylesbooze
Authors Note: I really donât like this chapter, but I give up. Iâm washing my hands of it. Itâs given me nothing but grief. I had high hopes for it and frankly, I think itâs cabbage. So Sorry ahead of time.
Also, when Polly mentions things being in their blood because theyâre gypsies, and having some deep insight/foresight/psychic intuition. I am going purely off the character established in season four. This is in no way a reflection of actual romani cultures. And I mean absolutely no disrespect in anyway.
So, I wasnât going to say anything. I was just to switch it out and call it a day, but then I worried it might be confusing if people noticed. So Iâm just gonna own it⊠I hated the Tommy and Fiona scene, so I changed it. I didnât want to leave up something I didnât love. So what that means is there will be two versions of this chapter floating around, because itâs already been reblogged (Thank you for that! You guys are the best!). So just be aware of that. If you happen to notice it, youâre not crazy, Iâm owning what I did. You can decide which version of the chapter you like best. Thank you!
You canât sleep. Your demons wonât let you rest. The threat of your impossible future haunts you into all hours of the night. Long after everyone else has succumb to sleep. You toss and turn, staring up at the ceiling, an itchy nagging feeling just under your skin until you finally give up and get out of bed. Youâre running yourself a glass of water, trying not to wake the rest of the house, when you hear a noise come up from behind you in the kitchen â a creak of a board, a shuffle of movement.Â
Spinning around quick, you hadnât expected company in the dead of night like this, but you canât say youâre surprised to find itâs Polly standing there, candle steady in her hand. Looking gorgeous as ever in her short curls and flowing nightdress against the dancing flame of the candle. You smile at her, the sight a pleasant surprise. A comforting one against the anxiousness the grips you tight tonight.
âCanât sleep?â She asks, like a mother would to a child. Caring for you and after you in a way you havenât experienced since you lived with your aunt Brona right after the birth of Finn.
You shake your head no, in response, placing your glass down on the counter, a forgotten thought before youâve barely had a sip.
But Polly doesnât mince words or opportunities as she places down the candle on the butcherâs block beside the stove and moves toward you as if she can see the anxiousness churning inside you.
âAâright then, so youâre up the duff?â She inquires without hesitation, without judgment, and the lack of reprisal on her breath and in her eyes settles some of the shame youâve been flogging yourself with for days now.
âI believe so.â You answer quietly, eyes scanning around to ensure no one is in ear shot, but the house is quiet as a church, not even a board squeaks.
âWhen was your last flow?â She inquiries bluntly, getting straight to the point. Her big dark eyes holding you in the shadows that surround you both. She speaks with ease, but still her words threaten to swallow you alive with the magnitude of the answer as you muster the courage to speak.
âI donât know.â You whisper as your face falls from hers, feeling foolish.Â
You know itâs the sort of thing you should know without doubt, especially since you crawled into Tommyâs bed and never came out. A line you swore youâd never cross again after all the heartache and struggles youâve endured to bring Finn into this world and then keep him alive.Â
Even with the factory laborer, you had been careful, diligent, to do everything in your power to ensure you didnât become pregnant. But with Tommy everything seemed so different. You were feeling things you never thought you would feel again. You thought with the tea⊠You see now you thought wrong.
âWith John, anâ the Italians, thereâs been so much⊠One, maybe two months. I canât- I canât be certain.â You admit on a shaken whisper, running a frustrated hand down your face, angry with yourself as you try to retrace it in your mind. Ever since coming to Small Heath the days have blended. Living under constant fear of death and grief, and then after Al⊠itâs been hard to get a good sense of time. But you know full well this is something you should have been diligently monitoring, you feel like a complete failure.Â
How could you have been so foolish! One child out of wedlock is an unforgivable sin, but two and by different fathers, you feel a panic coming on just trying to imagine the kind of shame that would accompany that fate. What kind of woman that makes your morally. What kind of mother that makes you, to put Finnâs already fragile joy into jeopardy.
âCould it be iron. Have you tried tablets?â She asks, you see her running down the list of possibilities in her mind before jumping to any conclusions.
You shake your head sadly. âBut itâs not just my flow⊠Iâve been sick lately, light headed sometimes, anâ my breasts are tender⊠I know what this is Pol.â You tell her, the words starting to choke you up as your throat tightens with an all too familiar fear.Â
Heart pounding in your chest as you finally say the words aloud. Making them real and utterly terrifying in a way that plaguing your mind never could. You swore to yourself youâd never experience this again, never find yourself here, and yet, here you are.
âThe tea didnâ work. I jus-â Tears edge at your eyes as your voice wavers. You such in a sharp breath and pull yourself together, holding your belly tight as you force yourself to breath slowly.
âI was hopinâ you might know a woman who can help me.â Those words break your heart. You hate to say them. Itâs never something you wanted. Never something you imagined doing. But you canât do this to Finn. Destroy his world with your carelessness. And you canât have that monsterâs baby and you have no way knowing who the father is. A fact that makes your heart feel sick and leaves you shuttering harder with shame.
âThe tea works. Did you forget to take?â Polly is certain, thereâs no doubt in her eyes, but there is a peculiar intrigue that seems to light up in her gaze. You wish you could hold on to that same kind of certainty, but this is your body and you can feel whatâs happening to it. Itâs changing. Thereâs something inside it and no amount of debate about tea will change that.
Polly steps close to you, her hands unceremoniously reaching for your belly, pushing and palming against your stomach as your secret barely takes shape in her hand.
âNo, never.â You finally answer her with a shake of your head, letting her carry out her inspection without a fuss. You swear it, you never forgot. Not once. Not something that important. Your attempts to monitor the situation may have been halfhearted at best, but your attempts to prevent it were steadfast.
Polly suddenly grabs at your breast, brief and quick as you jump a little, startled under her unexpected touch. You watch her eyes narrow with understanding as a quick huff leaves her chest before she quickly steps back.
Polly nods slowly looking you square in the eye to acknowledge the seriousness of your request. âI know a woman, but I warn you this one wonât go easy.â She smiles weakly at you.
You stare into her eyes, fear and confusion coiling and stirring about in your gut as your chest tightens with apprehension. âWhy do you say that?â Almost afraid to ask.
She cups your cheeks gently in her weathered hands as she looks you square in the eye.
âBecause this baby held on through that bloody match you had with the Italian and Shelbyâs never go without a fight.â
Her words hit you like a shockwave, like the floor being ripped out from under you. Tears spring to your eyes with the implication. Your chest suffocating as it pulls in around your heart. âHow do you know that? How can you be certain?â
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