Mae
Summary: I am Emma, the invisible sister of Danny Whizz-Bang: the ordinary man who passionately believed I was extraordinary
A/N: Anon requested: I’ll star saying this :I love your writing! , so I had an idea for an original character, like imagine if Danny Whizbang had a younger sister (around thirteen years old) who is always been near to the shelbys and it's really close to them all, after her brother comes back from the war she steps up to take care of him but she is not really succesful at it, when her brother dies she is absolutely broken hearted and tommy takes her under his wing. This could be an imagine or a longer fic btw.:) I love this request sooo much, thank you for this wonderful and original idea! I kinda got creative with this character, hope you don’t mind ;)
Words: 2586
***
My name is Emma, but I go by Mae. My mum likes to tell the story of my birth and how Danny was sitting in the hallway with dad, both smoking frantically. Mum had already had a few children, but I was her last one, the unexpected one. When I was born, Danny rushed in and demanded to hold me. When he asked mum what my name was, she told him, “Emma.” But Danny shook his head and said, “No, she looks more like a Mae.” So, I go by Mae.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Danny used to call me. I’d sit on his shoulders and he could walk for hours, until you could no longer hear the factories or smell the smoke. He’d show me the grass and the trees and used to say, “See? The world is bigger than you could ever imagine!”
I cried when he went off to war. He tried to make me feel better by telling me that he was simply traveling the world. “Are you going on one of our walks again?” I asked, full of childhood innocence. “A bit further than that, sweetheart,” he said. “All the way, outside of Birmingham?” “Yes, I’m crossing the ocean. And when I come back, I’ll tell you all about it.” And with a kiss, he left.
But he was different when he came back. He tried to act like the brother I knew, always softly spoken en as gentle as a giant can be, but when he was on his own, he often changed. The war had damaged him beyond repair and even though I tried to bandage the internal wounds as much as I could, he remained emotionally unstable. So I started following him around and whenever he went mad, I was at his side, when I could. Suddenly, Danny Whizz-Bang had a shadow and everybody knew it. It was almost like it’d had been before the war: my favourite brother and I, inseparable. But still, he was different when he came back.
*** One day, I followed him after school, because he wasn’t acting like the Danny I knew and loved. I lost him halfway so I went into the Garrison, thinking he might go there next. As I walked in, I saw Mr. Shelby sitting at the bar, so I faltered a little.
He looked up and noticed me. “Hello, Emma,” he said in that husky voice of his, “How’s your mother?” “Very well, Mr, Shelby,” I replied meekly, even though she wasn’t, “Thank you for asking, sir.” He took another sip of his whiskey, “No need to call me ‘sir’, Emma.” “Sorry, Mr. Shelby,” I replied, without noticing the discrepancy. The Shelby’s were like royalty around here and every child grew up learning they were to be feared and respected at all times. I’d known Tommy since I was little, but I wouldn’t dare to call him ‘Tommy’.
“And where’s your brother?” he inquired in a low voice. I was scared that he could sense the worry in my voice, so I feigned fear and let my shoulders drop. Pretending I was even younger than I was, I mumbled, “I thought he might be here.” And then Thomas Shelby turned and looked me right in the eye. Shivers went down my back and I turned away involuntarily. I couldn’t have been more grateful when another man stepped up from a table and walked over to Tommy to talk to him, freeing me from all inquisitive looks. Slowly, he lit another cigarette and tried his best to ignore the man who was talking to him, but I could see the interest in his eyes. He was like a horse, with ears suddenly standing up. I love horses. Meanwhile, I’d disappeared into the shadows of the Garrison. I was good at that: disappearing. See, I’d realised that girls of my age have that talent. We are still cute, if we want to be. Not quite adorable anymore, but sweet and innocent we can still be, to others. Luckily, I wasn’t pretty, or I’d lose my advantage of invisibility. But we see everything. People think we’re just children but our minds are beyond that stage already, so we observe. The secret is this: we are not yet women, but no longer little girls either. The strange result is that we are invisible to adults, because we fit in neither category. We pass around unnoticed.
Suddenly, my brother came crashing through the doors. He was having one of is episodes again and I rushed out of my hiding place towards him, only to be thrown backwards into the chaos. Tommy and the other man reached Danny first and even though they didn’t seem to like each other before, they worked as one now. With a few exchanged glances, they both knew what to do and they tackled my brother to the floor swiftly, while offering him calm words.
Danny didn’t stop screaming and I became numb from the pain I felt for him. I would share it all, if I could, but there was nothing I could do. When silence followed, Danny quickly apologized to Tommy, cap in hand, muttering the words I had spoken moment before: “Sorry, Mr. Shelby…” I ran after my brother when he left again and took his hand in mine. That always seemed to help. No one else had noticed my presence at the scene, though I could feel a pair of eyes burning in my back when we left. ***
I come from a large family. I had more brothers than I could count and there wee always too many mouths to feed at home. Most of them worked at the factories. They were just ordinary men, living ordinary lives. But Danny had always been my favourite. He wasn’t anything special, but he asked after me every day, even when he got back from France. I never talked much, not in school and never in the streets, but I did speak at home. But me and Danny, we actually talked. Also, he had kind eyes, like my mother has.
I wasn’t there when he stabbed the Italian. I’d been in school because I’d been the first one in my family to go and so I went, every day. I remember that one day, Tommy came into our house. Danny, another brother and I sat hunched over a book. Tommy asked my mother, “Are they teaching your girl how to read?” Mum had laughed a little, “I think she’s teaching them to be honest.” And so I went to school, because Danny told me I was the brains of the family and that was all the encouragement I needed. Meanwhile, my brother unwittingly killed a man with criminal ties, and so Danny’s death was demanded in retaliation.
When I heard, I rushed out of the school building and sprinted through the streets of Small Heath. Suddenly, I was grabbed from behind. “Shhh,” someone whispered in my ear. But I struggled for my life and kicked the invisible assailant, because the only coherent thought in my head was Danny. “Let me go!” I said angrily. “Emma,” he pleaded, and only then did I recognised the voice, “It’s done. Your brother killed a man.” I turned around to face Thomas Shelby and I spoke more words than I’d ever had to him, “He didn’t kill a man. After the war, Danny was already dead.” “We all are,” he nodded. “Where is he?” I demanded. “Safe.” I narrowed my eyes, “And for how long will he remain safe?” Tommy cleared his throat and looked away. All the shyness had fallen from me, “Tell me. I’m not a little girl anymore.” “The Italians deal with death by death. Either they kill Danny in the cruellest way imaginable, or I do it. Quickly.” “You’re going to shoot Danny,” I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t feel. I couldn’t see. “Emma. Look at me, eh?” he crouched down to my level and forced me to meet his eye, “I will find a way. Do you hear me? I will find a way. Trust me, eh?” I didn’t. So for the first time in my life, I reacted on impulse alone and lunged forward. In a flash, I had grabbed the gun from his waist, knowing where he carried it on him. Then I pointed it at the Peaky Blinder in front of me. “Emma…” he sighed, “Don’t make this difficult.” “Difficult for you?” I grunt out through clenched teeth. There was another thing I had noticed about Tommy. When he was stuck or found himself in a position of disadvantage, he changed the subject. He reacted to absurd situations with even more absurd questions or suggestions. This was how remained in control, by catching the other off-guard. And he was trying it right now, “How did you know I carried a gun, right here?” he pointed at the spot on his suit. “I pay attention,” I merely commented, not taking my eyes off of him or the gun. Tommy nodded slowly and stated matter-of-factly, “Give it back to me. If you shoot me, I can’t help Danny.” Something inside me knew he was right, so involuntarily, I lowered the gun a little.
He held up a hand in a surprisingly comforting manner, “You need to let me help Danny, eh? Those fucking Italians are brutal. You can’t get in my way. Stay here. Emma, promise me: stay here.” Completely numb, I nodded. I had no idea why I trusted this man all of a sudden, but I did. Maybe because I grew up with the Shelby’s, the worst family imaginable, but at least we knew them. “Good girl,” he said softly, “When I come back, I will need your help. Just stay here, alright?” And then he vanished. Minutes felt like hours and I couldn’t bear waiting. Silently, I retreated into an alleyway and slid down the wall. There, I hid my face in my arms, which were resting on my knees and just sobbed. I couldn’t lose Danny. After everything that had happened, the brothers I had already lost in the war, I needed him. He came back from France and everything went fucking sideways, but he came back. I needed him to stay. When I heard the gunshot, my heart dropped. The world stood still and my ears were ringing. It was done. Slowly, I got up and walked. Where to, I had no idea. I no longer noticed the people around me and it felt like I was stuck in a glass container, separated from the rest of the people. Apparently, I had walked for hours and when my mind came back to me, I saw trees. I felt exhausted suddenly and let myself fall down in the grass. Within minutes, I was asleep. *** Danny Owens: the man who died twice. I had done my grieving already, outside of Birmingham, under the trees, in the grass. The second time hurt less, or did it? At least it didn’t shock me as much as it did the first time. He was the toughest man I know, because fighting yourself is so much harder than fighting any enemy. I would forever remember him as the kindest, bravest and best man I ever knew. The ordinary man, as he used to say, who told me every day that I was extraordinary. He deserved better. In those months, I never saw Tommy again. He was busy fighting a war with London, the communists and the rest of the world. But still, I trusted he had done all he could for my brother. After everything that had happened, I felt like I finally knew the man behind the peaked cap a little. But then, suddenly, he showed up at our house. “Emma,” he greeted, his eyes soft, “I won’t ask you how are, but I want you to know I tried…” I quickly cut him off, “I know.” His gaze turned glazed all of a sudden and I knew he was thinking of France. Danny used to have that same look about him. “What can I do for you, Mr. Shelby?” I asked politely. And back he was, “I told you the day Danny went off to London that I needed your help.” I frowned, “Why me? How could I be of use?” “You’re special, Emma,” he emphasised. “I’m just an ordinary girl,” I responded, in surprise. Tommy smiled a little, “That day, you said two things to me,” he paused a little and met my eyes, “Two things I remember clearly. One: you told me you weren’t a little girl anymore. And two: you told me you pay attention.” I kept silent and waited for what came next. Truthfully, I felt a little called out by his words. “I’ve noticed you, Emma,” he continued, lighting a cigarette at the same time. “No one notices me,” I said quickly. Again, he smiled. I’d never seen him smile, but this was the second time in mere minutes, “Exactly. You are invisible and you know how to use it. Danny always said his little sister was the smartest little girl he ever saw, and I now believe he was right. Behind that timid façade of a little girl, you observe, analyse and see everything.” He paused for a moment, “Tell me, Emma, what is it that we Shelby’s do?” I cast my eyes down and answered vaguely, “You run Birmingham, sir, everyone knows that.” “Don’t be afraid,” he said in a low voice, “And stop pretending. You know exactly what we do.” So I spoke frankly, “Yes.” Suddenly, Tommy stood up and walked over to the other side of our small room, “I will make sure you can go to school, for as long as you want to. If you want to go to another school, you will. If you want to go to university, you will walk into that university with your head held high. I will make it happen, alright?” I blinked a few timed rapidly. “I want to ask you for a favour in return,” he continued in his business-like tone, “Keep an eye out for me on the streets. If you hear anything that might be of interest to us, tell me. You’re clever; you know what we would like to know. It’s not a condition; I will take care of your education no matter what, so you’re not obligated to do as I ask. That much I owe to Danny. I’m just asking for your help.”
I shrugged and my pigtails flipped into the air with the gesture, “I’m honoured, but…”
He pointed at me, with a twinkle in his eye, “That’s good: the innocent act, but with the cynical thoughts behind it. No need to try it on me though,” he cut me off.
“Alright,” I let the façade slip for a moment and held out a hand, “I’ll do it. But I do have a condition.”
“What’s that?” he asked, walking towards me.
I narrowed my eyes, “Don’t ever treat me like a child that needs protecting. I need a friend, but no replacement for my brother.”
Tommy shook my hand carefully, “I’ll be your friend then, eh?”
“Yes.”
“Come to me when you need anything,” he said softly, almost lovingly, “Even if you just need some company. I’ll look out for you, Emma.”
And for the first time, I smiled at him, as I contradicted him:
“I go by Mae.” *** Masterlist
