Chapter Twenty Six
"I'm right here."

Michael impatiently slammed his hand down on the car horn, beeping at the hay cart that had been, painfully slowly, trudging along the road in front of them. "Move!"

Arabella released a heavy sigh of exasperation as she leaned back in her seat, Michael's frustrations fuelling her own. They were on their way to John and Esme's to warn them about Changretta, and get them straight back to Watery Lane, but time felt like it was quickly running out.

"Michael, fucking step on it will you?" Arabella couldn't help but snap.

"Do you want us to fucking crash?" He bit back, sparing a glance over at her. Arabella stared silently out of the window as they passed through the countryside. It was a drive she'd done herself many times when visiting John and Esme, and it was usually a peaceful time, with beautiful but views. But the stakes were high today, and Arabella felt the pressure mounting on her the more that time passed.

"There," she spoke, pointing towards the space for Michael to pull in to. He quickly swerved so they wouldn't miss the turning, pulling the car into the drive. Arabella reached into the glove compartment, snatching out her small revolver and tucking it into her waistband. Michael looked over at her as she did so, raising his eyebrows. "What? I'm being careful."

Michael shook his head, silently dismissing how cautious she was being. "It doesn't matter. Just relax a bit, all right? It's Christmas."

"I am relaxed," Arabella argued back. Michael gave her a look. "Shut up and get out of the car."

Michael couldn't help but smile slightly, but did as she ordered, stepping out of the car on the opposite side to her. Arabella met his eyes, nodding her head over to the house. They both began to head up the path, Arabella's hand inching towards the gun in her waistband, until Michael suddenly grabbed her hand instead, stopping her movement in her tracks.

Arabella looked over at him in surprise, but he didn't meet her eyes, nor did he let go of her hand. She shook her head, turning back around, biting down to stifle the smile threatening to tug at her lips.

The house seemed quiet, too quiet for John's house, which began to unnerve Arabella. "Hello?" Michael called out.

Arabella started to slow, prompting Michael to do the same, until they heard a gun click. She whipped her head around, heart almost leaping into her throat until she realised it was John.

"Oh, fuck, it's you two," John said, slowly lowering the shotgun. "Got nothing better to do on Christmas morning?"

"Tommy wants everybody at Charlie's yard now," Michael told him, cutting straight to it. Arabella might have began with a 'Merry Christmas, John' instead, but time was of the essence, to be fair to him. "Come on."

John shooed the dogs inside, closing the door shut behind him. "What's going to happen?" He challenged, looking between them both. "It's fucking Christmas."

"John, we don't have time for this," Arabella said, sparing a glance around them, feeling a little on edge out in the open.

John watched her for a moment, hesitating, knowing that Arabella wouldn't have come if it wasn't important. "Come into the house."

"Just come to the meeting," Michael countered.

"Have some food," John continued, ignoring him as he began to open the front door to let them inside.

As soon as it was opened, Esme came storming out, jabbing a finger at Michael. "Tell Tommy Shelby we can look after ourselves."

"Tommy says they could come for us today," Michael replied calmly.

"Tommy says, Tommy says," Esme repeated. "Are you his fucking parrot?"

"Look it's the fucking Mafia, all right," Arabella reminded them both, moving closer. "You know I wouldn't be here if this wasn't serious." She met John's eyes, trying to convey her sincerity. "This is the New York Mafia we're talking about."

"And we're the Peaky fucking Blinders," John countered back.

Arabella began to grow irritated, letting out a groan of frustration as Michael stepped towards them. "No, we're not, John," Michael argued back. "We're not the Peaky fucking Blinders unless we're together."

"You were together on the gallows, with one man missing," Esme bit back.

"John?" Arabella tried again, reaching for his arm. "John, come to the meeting, all right? Think about the kids."

"Come to the meeting and if you want to leave then fine," Michael added, but John's eyes were elsewhere, distracted by the hay cart Arabella and Michael had passed earlier, watching as it pulled up by the gap in the fence.

"No," Esme answered for them. Arabella began to follow John's gaze, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach. Slowly, she began to inch her hand towards her gun. "It's Christmas Day. We're the family now. We're staying at home."

As soon as Arabella saw a figure jump out from behind the bales of hay she ripped her gun out, lining it up in her sights at the man. John cocked his shotgun and began firing, knocking the man down.

But there were more coming.

"In the fucking house!" John ordered, shoving Arabella behind him.

Michael pushed Esme towards the house, rushing towards John and Arabella. He'd just about got a grip on Arabella's waist, pushing her in the direction of the house, before multiple men began firing straight in their direction.

Arabella stumbled into Esme's arms on the porch, the woman checking her over quickly before her eyes landed on the sight in front of her, growing wide with horror. Arabella snapped her head back around, watching as bullets plummeted straight into John and Michael. And there was nothing she could do about it.

Arabella had only ever felt time slow down that way once before – when her brother was killed.

The gunfire ceased the moment John and Michael dropped to the ground, as if the entire world had fallen silent with them. Arabella's ears had began to ring, the sound of the final gunshot that broke the air continuing to echo around her, until an intense silence slowly crept into the air, almost like everything around them was collectively holding it's breath.

And then it became shattered by a scream, the sound of Esme's heartbreak tearing through Arabella. And all she could do was watch, completely rooted to the ground, as everything came crashing down around them.

Esme flung herself out of the doorway, collapsing down beside John's body, her desperate pleas sending a gut wrenching agony through Arabella's entire body. She looked over to where Michael lay, something finally igniting in her, something telling her to move.

Before Arabella was even aware what she was doing, she had began to rush towards Michael, sinking to her knees beside him on the uneven ground. "Michael," she choked out, her vision of him becoming blurred by the tears forming in her eyes. "Michael!"

He lay silently on the ground, eyes closed with a grimace, his skin an ashen colour, clammed with swear. His chest moved up and down, with his slow breaths, fingers twitching as his lips parted. "Arabella."

"I'm here," she breathed out, tears streaming down her face as she placed a hand against his cheek. "I'm here, okay? It's okay. You're okay. I'm here."

She lifted her head up, locking eyes with Esme as she stumbled away from John's body, hand clamped over her mouth. "Call an ambulance!" Arabella cried out, her voice straining to battle the cries escaping her lips. "Esme! Call an ambulance!"

Arabella turned back to Michael as Esme hurried inside, placing her hands either side of his face. "Just hold on, okay?"

"Don't," he choked out between gasping breaths, reaching for her hand to stop her from moving, from leaving him alone.

But Arabella had to know.

"Just hold on," she told him, shakily rising to her feet again. Her legs began to grow weak as she stumbled towards John, breaking down, as she dropped to her knees beside him. "John," she sobbed. "John!" Arabella's lip quivered as she glanced down at him, barely being able to stand the sight; pale skin, closed eyes, blood stained lips. "John, please," she pleaded, fingers clinging onto his shirt. "Please."

Arabella closed her eyes, tears dripping down her cheeks. She lowered her head, crying into his chest, the one without a heartbeat, as she tried to come to terms with the reality – the reality that John was gone.

But there was still one person lay on the ground that did have a heartbeat.

Arabella lifted her head, fingers gently grazing against the side of John's face. "I love you." She whispered, shakily rising back to her feet. She looked over him once more, perhaps for the last time, a heavy ache tightening deep in her chest, sob escaping her lips, before she turned her head away, rushing back to Michael.

"Arabella," Michael breathed out, his voice hoarse, as she knelt down beside him, taking his hand in hers. His skin felt cold to touch, and when Arabella glanced over him, she began to see his eyelids growing heavy.

"I'm here," she assured him, lightly squeezing his hand. "Just stay with me, okay? I'm here." The words caught in the back of Arabella's throat. She couldn't lose him. "I–I'm right here, Michael." She placed a hand against the side of his face, her gentle touch causing him to look up at her once more, their tearful eyes meeting. "I'm right here."

A/N

It's missing John hours rn 😭

Was tempted to post this chapter on Christmas Day but decided that was too mean...