New Beginnings (Tommy Shelby x OFC Chapter Twenty)
Ok everyone, this is the final chapter of Saoirse and Tommy’s story. I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has read, commented, reblogged and just been so utterly supportive. For personal reasons, this story has meant so much to me and I’m so grateful to have had such wonderful people to share it with.
Other Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen
Warnings: swearing, some smut, descriptions of death
Taglist: @hazelnmae @deaflikehawkeye @justanothershelby @miidailyinspiration
@mrsalwayswrite @lavenderhopehardy @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes @biba3434 @emilymarie0422 @tv-obssessions @readbasoeverything @curlyhairedblueeyedangel@soargumentative @l0tsofpennies
Three hours. Dylan had been gone for three hours. It felt like an eternity. Tommy had sent every trusted man out to search for him, but Polly had been adamant that he remain at the house with Saoirse. She needed him; she was a mess, and despite his initial protestations, he reluctantly agreed.
“This is all my fault,” Saoirse muttered over and over again, clutching that teddy for dear life. She was terrified to let it go. It was as though letting the bear out of her hands meant that she would lose all hope of ever getting her baby back.
Tommy knelt down in front of her and took her hand, kissing it reverently.
“Nothing about this is your fault,” he promised her, clenching back his own tears, wishing to be out with the rest of the Blinders looking for Dylan. He felt useless just sat there, waiting and doing nothing. “Plenty of women leave babies outside in the pram. My mum used to leave us outside in the fresh air all the time.”
“I’m not talking about that,” she whispered as a tear fell upon their joined hands. “It’s my fault because I didn’t want him when I first found out I was pregnant. He’s punishing me; God or whoever it is up there. He’s punishing me for all those times I thought about wanting to get rid of my baby. He’s doing this to me because He knows I don’t deserve Dylan and I don’t deserve to be happy.”
“Saoirse,” Tommy shook his head. “Love, that’s not true.”
“It is,” she sobbed. “It’s all my fault and I don’t know how I’m supposed to live the rest of my life without him, Tommy.”
“Ssh, don’t speak like that,” Tommy cupped her cheek, brushing away her tears with his thumb. “He’s not gone forever. We’re going to get him back and you’re going to see that none of this is your fault nor are you being punished for anything, because you’ve done nothing wrong.”
Bursting into painful sobs once again, Saoirse threw her arms around Tommy and let everything out. She couldn’t be strong. She was a crumbling mess and she just needed him to make it better. Tommy always knew how to make things better.
“It’s alright, love. It’s alright,” Tommy wrapped his arms around her and pressed gentle kisses to her head. “We’ll get him back, I promise.”
Tommy had no answers for that question. In fact, he refused to acknowledge it. They would get Dylan back come hell or high water.
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Night fell and rain set in for the first time in weeks, clearing the last of the humid air. Tommy was restless and was making phone call after phone call to try and see if anyone had any news about his missing son. But every call ended with the same despair that left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Saoirse hadn’t moved from the armchair, where she had been watching out of the window but not really seeing. Perhaps if she sat there long enough this nightmare would be over and Dylan would be safe and sound in her arms once again.
“Saoirse!” Arthur came bounding into the living room as fast as his legs could carry him. “You need to come quick.”
“Have you found him? Have you got him?”
“No,” he answered truthfully, guilt clouding his eyes. “I’m sorry. But listen, there’s someone on the phone for you and I really think you need to take the call.”
“I don’t want to,” she shook her head, painful disappointment seeping through her veins. “I don’t want to talk to anyone; I just want Dylan.”
“I know you do, sweetheart,” Arthur squeezed her shoulder gently. “Which is why you need to take this call.”
A feeling of dread, even greater than the one she already bore, settled upon her chest making it difficult to breathe as she headed into the den to use the phone. Tommy looked at her with such anger and she couldn’t tell if it was directed at her or someone else.
“Just take the call,” Arthur prompted gently.
“Hello?” she said into the receiver hesitantly.
“Saoirse,” the voice spoke; the one that had haunted her dreams for months. The one that had given more agony than she ever thought was possible until now.
“Joe,” she whispered, closing her eyes in pain at having to mention his name out loud let alone speak to him.
But then she heard it. That soft whine in the background that made her full breasts begin to leak with milk that was supposed to feed her child.
“Please don’t hurt him,” she begged, tears pouring freely. “Just give him back to me.”
From her peripheral vision, she could see Polly murmuring soothingly to Tommy who looked about ready to kill someone with his bare hands. She turned away quickly because otherwise she wouldn’t be able to carry on.
“He’s fine,” Joe said almost kindly. “He’s clean and fed and warm. I’m not a complete monster, you know. You do know that, right?”
“Yes,” she muttered. She didn’t care that every fibre of being screamed liar. She would say whatever it took to keep him on the phone and make sure Dylan was safe and well.
“You can have your son back,” he said suddenly. “But you must do exactly as I say.”
“I will,” she nodded fervently, even though he couldn’t see her. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
“There’s an abandoned warehouse on the other side of the city on the corner of Barham Street and Ascot Road. You will come there alone in an hour and I will give you back your son. But if you do not come alone, I will know. Trust me, I will know. I see everything, Saoirse; just like I’ve seen the happy little life you’ve been trying to live without me. If anyone else comes, your son is dead.”
The phone line cut out and Saoirse dropped the receiver in her hands.
“What did he say?” Tommy was beside her in an instant. “What did that fucker say? Where’s our fucking son.”
“He’s safe,” she croaked. “I know where he is and I can get him.”
“Right, let’s go then,” Tommy demanded.
“Not a fucking chance,” Tommy let out a short laugh. “There is no way in hell that I will let you go anywhere near that monster alone.”
“I have to, Tommy,” she sniffed.
“Tommy, please,” she pleaded.
“I said fucking no,” he roared, flinging everything angrily from the desk in front of him.
Saoirse broke down into tears and clutched onto Arthur for dear life as Tommy continued to smash up everything in his path. When his angry haze finally faded, he glanced at the destruction he had caused and felt nothing.
“I’m going, Tommy,” Saoirse cleared her throat. “And you won’t stop me.”
“No,” Saoirse reached forward and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. “You can’t. Listen to me, Tommy. If you or anyone else comes with me, he’ll kill Dylan. I won’t let him do that.”
“And what if he kills you?”
“That’s a risk I’m more than ready to take,” she answered.
“I’m not,” Tommy murmured, pressing his forehead against hers. “I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t,” she promised, wrapping her arms around him. “But I have to get our boy, Tommy.”
“I know,” he whispered, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I know.”
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The warehouse was exactly where she had been told. Arthur and Tommy had dropped her off about a ten minute walk away, and it had taken Arthur almost forcibly restraining Tommy to stop
him from going with his wife. Arthur wasn’t happy about leaving her to face Joe alone, but he understood that this was the only way.
The rain had become a light drizzle but Saoirse welcome the way it soaked through her clothes. It reminded her that she needed to keep her wits about her. Each step she took closer towards the warehouse felt heavier than the last until she almost couldn’t go any further. But go further she did because all she could think about was her son. She pushed open the door and was assaulted by a surprising amount of warmth and the faint light of a lantern. Her heart pounded wildly and she swallowed, unable to think of anything other than the feel of Joe’s hands around her throat and his fingers against her skin.
Dylan, she reminded herself. This was for her Dylan and she would face Joe a hundred times again if it meant getting her son back.
She turned at the sound of his voice and forced herself to meet his eyes. They weren’t angry like she had expected; instead they were soft and warm like the Joe she had first met. No. He wasn’t anything like the Joe she had first met. He was a monster and she should have expected he would try and lull her into a false sense of security with a kind smile, but it wouldn’t last.
“Where’s my son?” she asked, standing upright. She would not cower down to him again. Never again.
“He’s fine, I told you,” Joe smiled.
“I want him; give him to me,” she demanded.
“In due course,” Joe smiled that sickly sweet smile again. “Come and sit down. Let’s talk and catch up first, eh?”
“Catch up?” she scoffed. “You must be out of your mind if you think I’m going to sit here and play all happy with you. I came here for my son and you will give him to me now.”
“My my,” Joe smirked. “Sweet little Saoirse has finally grown a backbone. I wonder if you’re actually as brave as you really think you are.”
His hand reached out and wrapped itself gently around her throat, squeezing slightly as if testing her for a reaction. Defying every instinct that she had to scream and cry and beg him not to hurt her, she stood as still as a statue and let her eyes stare into his with no reaction. It seemed she had done the right thing because Joe dropped his hand and grinned.
“He’s over here,” he nodded to another room behind them.
She followed him without a second thought and when she saw a little crate stuffed with blankets, she ran to it, bursting into tears of relief when she saw those sweet little pouting lips and that button nose.
“Dylan,” she whispered, scooping him up into her arms and breathing in his comforting baby scent. “Oh my sweet boy, I’m so sorry my darling.”
“I told you he was fine,” Joe said. “I would never hurt a wean.”
“You said you would never hurt me but you did,” she hissed.
“That was… unfortunate,” he sighed. “You can’t honestly blame me for the way I behaved back then. I had my suspicions that Tommy Shelby was going to try and get his claws into you from the second you took that job and I was right, eh? He turned your head with these fancy ideas but he doesn’t love you like I do. No one could love you like I do.”
“You don’t know the meaning of love,” she spat, her bottom lip wobbling. “The things you did to me… you’re worse than a monster. You’re evil.”
“I’ll let that slide because you’re emotional about having your boy back,” Joe narrowed his eyes and she saw a tiny glimpse of his real persona in them. “But you have to understand that I didn’t want to do those things, Saoirse. I just couldn’t help it. When I saw his hands and his mouth on you, I was enraged. He was touching what belonged to me and I couldn’t have that.”
“I didn’t belong to you!” she shouted angrily. “I’m not something to be owned, I’m a person.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Saoirse,” he said sadly, lifting his hand to trace his fingers down the scar upon her face. “This means you belong to me.”
“No,” she shook her head.
“Yes, Saoirse. You belong to me and you always will.”
Saoirse closed her eyes as bile rose in her throat when her mind flashed back to that night. He was trying to get inside her head. He was trying to manipulate her just like he had done so many times during their relationship.
“He looks like his father, doesn’t he?” he said suddenly, his breath warm upon her cheek.
She opened her eyes to find him stroking Dylan’s head gently and she wanted to scream at him. She wanted to tear off his hand so he could never touch her son again. But she didn’t. She just watched him like one watches a predator, trying to suss out its next move in the hopes of surviving. She would survive him. She had done it once and she would do it again.
“I think I will be able to overlook that in time.”
“What do you mean?” she eyed him warily.
“Put the baby down and we’ll talk.”
“No,” she shook her head firmly. “He stays right here with me.”
“And I’m saying that you’ll put him down and we’ll talk,” Joe’s nostrils flared ever so slightly.
“I said no,” she gritted her teeth.
Joe let out a sigh and she could see the inner turmoil he had to refrain from losing his temper. It was palpable. The palm of his hand met with her face before she could even begin to process the movement, and Joe took the opportunity to snatch Dylan from her grasp.
“I didn’t want to do that, Saoirse,” he shook his head sadly, moving back when she reached her arms out for the baby. “But hopefully now you’ll listen to me, eh?”
Her eyes didn’t leave Joe’s broad form for even a moment as he lay Dylan gently in his make shift crib, smiling fondly when the little boy pouted his lips and let out a sigh of contentment. That was the only thing about this situation that Saoirse could find a positive in. Dylan was unharmed and clearly unaffected by the ordeal, and if she had her way he would remain so. When Joe stood back up and turned to face her, she forced herself to look him in the eye.
“I’ve really missed you,” he murmured, cupping her face and running his thumb across her bottom lip. “I’ve missed everything about you, and I know you think you’re in love with Thomas fucking Shelby but you’re not. He’s brainwashed you into thinking that he’s saved you, but really he’s just imprisoned you in the same way that you accused me of doing.”
“You raped me,” she spat. “And you beat me. You sliced open my cheek with a fucking knife.”
“I’ve already explained to you why I did those things.”
“And that makes it alright? Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to carry on living after what you did to me? If it wasn’t for Tommy, I would have ended my life just so I didn’t have to feel the pain you inflicted on me for the rest of my life.”
“What do you want me to say, Saoirse?” Joe huffed. “That I’m sorry and that I wish I could take it back? Because you know what? I don’t. I’m glad I did it. I’m glad that I made you hurt because I hurt. I did nothing but love you and you repaid me by kissing another man, but it’s possible for us to start again and get past this.”
“Let’s leave this shitty place and start again, far away,” he whispered excitedly, grabbing her face with both hands now; his eyes wide with excitement. “Me, you and the baby. I’ll be a good Dad to him, I promise you that. I’ll love him like my own.”
“He doesn’t need you; he’s already got a Dad who adores him,” she snarled. “And you’re truly deranged if you think I would go anywhere with you and most certainly not with my child.”
“You don’t mean that, Saoirse,” Joe closed his eyes in pain. “We can be a real family, the three of us. And if we can’t be together in this life then we will in the next.”
“What are you talking about?” Saoirse felt her stomach drop suddenly.
“This whole place is covered in petrol,” he grinned menacingly, pulling a packet of matches out of his trouser pocket. “I was willing to give you a chance, Saoirse but you’ve ruined it for yourself and for us. I promise though that wherever we end up after this, I’ll look after the two of you.”
“Joe, please,” she sobbed, trying to wrestle the packet from him. He snatched them away easily but she didn’t give up. “I didn’t mean it, ok. I do want you. I do want us to be together but I’m just scared of what Tommy will do. Please, please don’t this, I’m begging you.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not,” she shook her head, desperately clutching at his cheeks in an attempt to force him to believe her. “Joe, I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. Please, put the matches away and don’t do this. Put them away and I promise you that me and Dylan will go anywhere you want. Please.”
Joe’s eyes bored into her and his jaw clenched as he thought about it. Saoirse tried to smile reassuringly and rubbed her thumbs across his cheeks. Anything to try and make him believe what she was saying. She almost fell to her knees with relief when he slipped the box back into his pocket and smiled at her.
“I knew you still loved me,” he murmured, bending down to kiss her.
Saoirse wanted to bite him, kick, slap, anything to get him off of her, but the soft cooing noises of Dylan coming from behind Joe made her go along with this disgusting pretence. Just a little while longer. She could do it.
She wound her trembling arms around his neck and his lips moved to kiss her neck at the same time as his hands brushed against her breasts. She closed her eyes and knew it was now or never. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the small kitchen knife out of her sleeve and plunged it into Joe’s neck before she lost her nerve. And again. And again.
He fell to his knees, dragging her down with him as his hands grasped at her throat; squeezing until she couldn’t breathe. She gasped for air like a fish out of water and stars began to swim around her peripheral vision as his hands continued to crush the life out of her. She could hear Dylan start to cry and she reached her hand out towards the little crate, trying with all her might to reach him. Everything was going black and she knew she wasn’t going to make it.
But no sooner had that torturous thought crossed her mind did those hands loosen and she felt Joe’s dead weight upon her body. She pushed him off of her and just stared at his corpse lying on the dirty ground. She had killed him. She had killed a man. Remorse was not something she felt though. Instead all she felt was relief. He could never hurt her again.
Scrambling up to her feet, she gathered Dylan up to her chest, tears of relief and adrenaline dripping onto his soft head. Then she ran. She ran as fast her legs could carry her.
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“Saoirse!” Tommy was out of the car and down the road the second he saw her in the rearview mirror.
She was covered in blood and he had never felt such terror in all his life; not even the night he had found her in the flat after Joe had assaulted her.
“It’s not mine, it’s not mine,” she sobbed as she all but knocked him over in her haste to get to him. “It’s not mine, Tommy.”
“Dylan?”. Oh God, please let Dylan be alright.
“Dylan’s fine,” Saoirse promised, shifting the blanket around the baby so Tommy could see that his son was completely unharmed. “I’m fine. We’re both fine. He’s not going to hurt us again, Tommy. I couldn’t let him hurt us again.”
“Saoirse what have you done?” Tommy breathed, cupping her face, still unable to believe she was alive and uninjured, standing in front of him like a vision.
“He’s dead,” she croaked. “I killed him.”
“It’s alright. It’s alright. Arthur’ll go to the warehouse and get rid of the body,” Tommy spoke to himself more than to her, before turning his attention back to his amazingly strong wife. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
“I told you you wouldn’t,” she whispered, pressing her cheek to his. “You’re never going to lose either of us. I love you, Tommy and I want to enjoy the rest of our lives now without worrying about the past. The past is over for good and our future is all I care about.”
“The future,” Tommy let out a shaky breath, his hands stroking his son’s fluffy hair as his wobbling lip’s met Saoirse’s.
The future was theirs and they were going to grasp it with both hands.
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Tommy cracked open an eye at the sound of thundering footsteps bouncing down the hallway. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table and groaned when he saw it was only five in the morning.
“You can’t be grumpy on Christmas morning, Tommy,” Saoirse smirked knowingly as she opened her own eyes.
Tommy was prevented from replying when two very excited children burst in through the door with stockings in their hands and jumped on the bed giddily.
“Mummy! Daddy! He’s been!” Dylan squealed. “Father Christmas has been! Can I open my presents?
“Can I open my pwesents, Mumma?” Niamh asked. Two years younger than her brother and aged only three, she had the most adorable little lisp when she spoke and idolised the ground Dylan walked on. This of course meant copying everything he said and did.
“You can both open your stockings and then wait for me and Mum to come downstairs to open the rest,” Tommy answered. “Why don’t you go in your bedroom and open the stockings while we get dressed.”
The children were out of the room in a flash and Tommy grinned, snaking an arm around Saoirse’s waist.
“Next year there’ll be three of them to contend with,” he rubbed the slight swell of Saoirse’s stomach. “God help us, eh?”
“Well it was your bright idea,” she grinned at him, placing her hand over his. “I was happy with two.”
“Yeah but I can’t help that you make such beautiful babies,” Tommy smirked, leaning up to kiss her as his hand wandered and slid beneath her nightgown. “Now, I think we’ve got precisely eight minutes until they’re back in here, midering us to get downstairs and open the presents.”
“Hmm and what are you thinking we should do with those eight minutes, Mr Shelby?”
His only answer was to roll on top of her and slide himself inside her with a groan.
“I was thinking this might be an acceptable use of our time,” he smiled; biting at her bottom lip as he moved slowly inside her.
“Agreed,” she hissed clutching the sheets as his thumb rubbed at her clit.
They both knew there was no time for slow right now. They were on a time limit and every second counted, and Tommy made sure to use every single available second to bring Saoirse to the edge again and again. With a grunt he spilled himself inside of her and collapsed on top of her, careful not to let his weight rest on her too heavily and kissed her slowly.
And like clockwork the children appeared, eagerly chatting about what Santa had left in their stockings and what else might be waiting for them. Saoirse sat up and made a great show of interest in answering their giddy chatter.
Lying back in bed for a moment, Tommy watched his little family and smiled to himself. Whoever would have thought a woman could have come into his life looking for a job and caused him such grief and also brought him the most immense joy he had ever known.
His life was better with her in it and every day with her was a new chance to be a better person: a better father and a better husband. Every day was a new beginning for the rest of their lives.
