Chapter Thirty Four
"I'm trying to protect you."

For the past couple of weeks, Arabella had spent the majority of her time at the hospital with Michael.

Mostly, they sat together at the table, attempting to get ahead of the mass piles of paperwork they had to complete. It reminded Arabella of when they used to work together in the office – except Michael would usually be doing something to piss her off, and she'd actually be finishing the work. This time, however, Michael seemed to be working extra hard, despite Arabella's assurances that she would take care of it. But Michael insisted, telling her she'd done enough of that over the past few years. So, she didn't argue, and appreciated the newfound hardworking side of him for what it was – incredibly sexy.

"Stop looking at me like that," Michael finally spoke up, not quite managing to hide the smirk tugging at his lips.

Arabella sat opposite him with her elbows on the table, chin resting on her hands as she gazed at him. "Like what?"

Michael looked up at her, raising his eyebrows. "Like that."

"Not my fault that even in hospital clothes you're still hot," she grinned back.

Ever since their kiss the other week, the two of them had been growing closer romantically. A lot of it was just flirting, and painful sexual tension for anybody that was in the room with them. There was the occasional make out session, but Polly had walked in on them in a fairly compromising position the other day so they had decided to be more careful with that.

They weren't strictly in a relationship, neither had asked the question of whether they were officially together, but both of them felt that they were heading in that direction. And when the war with the Italians was over, and when Michael was better and could actually focus properly on his life again, he'd decided that he'd officially ask her to be his girlfriend.

Both of them turned their heads as they heard the door click open, a nurse stepping inside the room. Arabella didn't think anything of it, returning to scribbling on the papers in front of her, until she heard Michael's voice. "What are you doing?"

Arabella glanced up as the nurse snatched Michael's bag closed, the bag Arabella knew had a gun inside it. Both of them rose to their feet on instinct, but the nurse shoved Michael back, letting out a loud shriek as she grabbed the bag and ran.

"Shit!" Arabella cursed as Michael fell to the floor, dropping down to her knees beside him. "Are you okay?" A gunshot rang out in the corridor, and Arabella snapped her attention towards the door. "Shit. Someone's coming."

"Go," Michael told her, straining as he tried to sit up. Arabella placed her hand on his back, helping to hoist him back up to the bed.

"I'm not leaving you," she said firmly, casting another glance at the door. On the table, her own bag sat in the middle of it, the gun she owned tucked away deep inside. "Hang on."

Before she could even reach the table, the door had opened again, slamming shut behind whoever had walked in. She heard the lock click, the sound causing her entire body to stiffen. Slowly, she turned her head, watching as Luca Changretta strode inside.

Arabella had to act quickly. Not having enough time to find her gun, she snatched her bag from the table, rushing over to Michael to stand between him and Luca.

Michael began to sit upright as the man approached them. Arabella's eyes drifted over Luca, the toothpick in his mouth, instantly reminding her of John. Her jaw tightened, eyes locking with his.

"Uh-uh-uh, where I'm from, a hat on the bed's unlucky," Luca spoke. Arabella gritted her teeth in an effort to remain silent. "My family say it brings death. Maybe, maybe that's what happened last time my man was sent for you, you got lucky."

Arabella's hand slowly inched inside her bag. Michael gripped other her hand as she swallowed harshly, watching as Luca stopped in front of her. Finally, her fingers brushed against the weapon, and she managed to wrap her hand around it.

Luca studied her for a moment, a half smile creeping onto his face. "Such a shame," he said, raising the gun and pressing it to her forehead.

"Arabella, move," Michael hissed. She levelled her eyes to meet Luca's, tightening the grip on her gun. Luca's finger hovered over the trigger, and Arabella's heart began to pound heavily in her chest. "Arabella," Michael snipped, gripping tightly at her hand. "Arabella, move."

Without breaking eye contact with Luca, she stepped aside, giving him access to Michael. The man began to smirk, his attention turning to Michael. And whilst he did, Arabella took her opportunity and drew the gun from the bag, aiming it at Changretta.

But Luca had already anticipated the move, managing to knock the weapon from her hands in one swift movement, sending it sliding across the floor. Arabella barely had chance to process what had happened before he pushed her harshly out the way, sending her colliding with the table.

Luca lifted the gun, pointing it at Michael's head with a soft sigh. "Now, your luck's run out." Arabella's brain desperately pleaded with her to move, to grab her own gun and shoot him, but as soon as Michael's fearful eyes locked with hers, she was suddenly rooted to the spot.  Luca prolonged the moment as his finger hovered over the trigger, the tension growing unbearably thick in the air. Arabella's heart pounded heavily in her chest, entire body completely still until Changretta finally pressed the trigger.

Arabella clutched the table in anticipation, only to hear an empty click instead. She released the breath that had been caught in her throat, entire body almost giving way as she realised there was no bullet. Luca smiled, taking great amusement in Michael's wide eyes and pale face. His eyes drifted over Arabella once more, watching as she straightened up, knuckles white as she gripped onto the table to steady herself.

When Luca reached the door, he paused, turning his head to face Michael once more. "And tell your mother, we have a deal."

Arabella's jaw clenched as she watched him leave. Michael noticed how hard she had gripped onto the table, her muscles tensing, knowing exactly what was coming next.

"Arabella–"

She gave the table a hard shove, the adrenaline coursing through her body almost knocking it on its side. Her attention snapped to her gun in the corner of the room, moving quickly to retrieve it, her ability to think clearly becoming clouded by the picture of Luca Changretta's face in her mind, and then the reminder of John's body.

"Arabella," Michael cautioned as she snatched the gun, though he knew very well that rational Arabella was no longer there.

The door was shoved open abruptly, this time Tommy, Arthur, Finn and Johnny Dogs bursting inside, all four of them doing a double take when they realised both Michael and Arabella were alive, having prepared themselves to see a completely different situation.

"Michael?" Tommy moved towards him, checking him over, whilst Arthur's eyes landed on Arabella, who had stopped a short distance away from the door. "What happened, eh? What happened?"

"They heard you, er, heard you coming," Michael told him, but Arabella had completely tuned out. She was going after Changretta, and she was going to put a fucking bullet in his head. "The gun misfired. They ran away."

"Arabella!" Arthur shouted in warning as he watched the girl exit through the door. "Johnny," he called, nodding the man over, the two of them instantly taking off after her and Changretta.

Arabella stormed down the corridor, reaching a breaking point in her patience. Her face was rigid, jaw clamped tight as she searched for Luca and his men. He must have made a quick getaway, because Arabella hadn't spotted him whatsoever. But there was only one way out of the hospital.

"Arabella!" Arthur called after her, shoving past the people in his way. "Arabella!"

She turned the corridor, watching as somebody wearing a familiar tilted bowler hat slipped through the double doors. Arabella tightened the grip on her gun, setting her sights on those doors, until someone slammed straight into her, almost knocking her over.

"Finn, keep her there!" Arthur ordered as he hurried past, Johnny Dogs in tow. Arabella had shoved Finn out of the way before the poor boy even realised what was happening, anger churning within her as she burst through the double doors, bumping straight into Arthur.

"Where the fuck is he?" She demanded, moving past the two men into the open space. There were a few cars parked, and a couple of people who were watching them with curiosity, which soon turned to worry when they noticed the weapons they were carrying. "Arthur?!"

"He's gone," he told her defeatedly. "He's bloody gone."

"No," Arabella whirled around, jabbing a finger at him. "No, I almost had him! Arthur, he was right fucking there! How did he just get away?!" She ran her hands through her hair, look up in the air in frustration. "Fuck!"

Arthur's turned to her, about to reprimand her for doing something so dangerous, but instead of finding smouldering anger in her eyes and a stone-cold expression, Arabella was crying.

"Arabella," he started as she shook her head, unsure as to why she was so overcome with emotion all of a sudden. Perhaps the fear from earlier, and the pent up frustrations, her desperation to get revenge for what happened to John, and failing to get it. Everything had all suddenly hit her at once. "Come 'ere," Arthur said, his entire expression softening as he brought Arabella into his arms.

Finn and Johnny Dogs watched them silently and unsurely, neither of them having any idea how she had gone from such a murderous rage to tears. 

"I'm sorry," Arabella mumbled against Arthur's chest, truly meaning it. She'd always had a quick temper, but recently all it would take was something to snap within her, and a switch would be flicked, shutting off anything in her mind other than the blinding rage.

"It's all right," Arthur assured her, his stare landing on Tommy as the double doors slammed open. "It's all right." He met his brother's eyes, recognising a similar look of pure frustration, knowing he was about to lay one in on Arabella. "Tommy–" he cautioned.

"Arabella," Tommy snapped as he moved down the steps. "Arabella, what the fuck do you think your playing at?!" She moved out of Arthur's grip, and Tommy immediately noticed the tears against her cheeks, but he was so annoyed with her that he couldn't stop the words falling from his mouth. "Do you have a fucking death wish or something, eh?"

"Tommy–" Arthur tried again.

"I'm trying to protect you, do you not fucking understand that?!" He grabbed her shoulders, shaking them lightly. Arabella swallowed harshly, her eyes brimming with tears again. "That anger–" Tommy stopped himself, finally recognising the emotion on Arabella's face, his words falling short. "Arabella." He loosened his grip on her, his hands moving to either side of her face. "I know you're grieving, I know you're angry, all right? But if you don't get a hold on it, that anger is going to get you fucking killed."

Arabella's head lowered as she glanced down at the ground, furiously trying to hold back her tears. She'd been so angry at Tommy, still hating him for so many of the things he'd done, but when he stood in front of her in that moment, all she wanted to do was burst into tears, fall into his arms and have him tell her that everything was going to be ok.

Because no matter how furious they would have been with each other in a moment like this, Mason would have taken her in her arms and held her until she stopped crying. John would have brought her into a tight hug and cracked stupid jokes until she felt better. And now neither of them were there to do that, and she was so alone, and so lost, and so fucking angry at the world for taking the people she loved away from her, her brothers away from her, so angry that she wanted to scream and shout and curse at the universe – but all she wanted, all she really wanted, more than anything in the world, was to cry in their arms and have them tell her she'd be ok again.

"Tommy," she choked out through her tears. "Tommy, I can't." She shook her head, swallowing heavily. "I can't do this anymore."

"You can." He pulled her into his arms, and Arabella didn't put up a fight. "You can, I know you can. We're here, we're right here, all right?" Tommy told her, holding her tightly as years and years of grief, and pain, and hurt, came to the forefront. "We're not going anywhere, all right? I promise."

Arabella truly wished she could believe him.

A/N

Finally, the hugs Arabella deserves.

Just realised there's about two chapters left until the end of series 4 👀