Betrayal.

It came in many different forms when it came to the Shelby Family. Grassing someone up to the police was up there with some of the worst, but in Tommys eyes - sleeping with the enemy was worthy of a death sentence.

Which was why Ada hadn't done what her aunt Pol had said, she didn't want Tommy to know - because despite Freddie Thorne being one of his best friends from school, he'd picked a side Tommy didn't like.

Instead, she went to the one brother who didn't dare judge. He had a shaky record with past relationships, not to mention being abandoned by a wife in name and on paper only.

Sebastian wasn't one to cast glares in the direction of someone he didn't like - aside from Grace, he was a proactive man when it suited him. He cared about those he talked to and he enjoyed lending an ear, but what he couldn't always wrap his head around - was the idea of betrayal, in the same way that Tommy could.

But, betrayal meant something different for each person who dealt with it.

"Sebastian..." Ada's voice called out from the doorway, she leant against the post with a plate of toast with a pot of jam balanced between the ridge of the plate and her thumb.

"Ada..." he mimicked her, beckoning her to come closer with a brief wave of his hand.

The book that had been resting against his face was loudly put back onto his desk, and with ease, he turned his swivel chair in the direction of the door.

"If you've got something to say, you might as well come out with it." Sebastian was always the one to skip around the frilly nature of polite chitchat, though he did enjoy partaking in a little bit of idle chatter, sometimes it was easier to rip off the bandage.

Easier for everyone.

"You have to promise me, Bash, that you won't tell a soul. Not even your horse."

Sebastian rolled his eyes at the mere idea of him telling his horses anything. He hadn't done that in what felt like a lifetime (in reality, seven years had passed since he last confided in his horse), so her worry was in vain.

Making a cross, from head to stomach, shoulder to shoulder, he made a silent promise that he wouldn't tell a soul. Not in a confessional booth, to a passer-by or a hungry horse.

"I need you to say it, please, just say it."
"Fine, I promise I won't tell anyone anything."

Sometimes, Ada could be such hard work, it was like trying to talk to a child sometimes with her. Though, he didn't mind. Sure, it was annoying sometimes, and felt like pulling teeth, but he wouldn't change it if given the chance.

"Get up, and put your shoes on."

Bossy, too. Ada was bossy, far bossier now than when they were children. It was as though she was catching up for lost time, but Sebastian didn't falter in his movements. Both feet were planted firmly onto the floor, already in his fancier brogues.

He needed to wear them in, he couldn't have blisters when dancing around an empty kitchen with Aunt Pol.

He wasn't an Oxford man, despite how much he wanted to be. He enjoyed feeling the grooves on the toe, the frills on lace band, the smooth velvet of the tongue. As his fingers were his eyes, it was just the way he distinguished his shoes from his brothers.

Ada didn't even give him a moment to gain a semblance of balance before her hand was around his wrist, and his shoulder was very nearly out of its socket. She took each step carefully as she helped him traverse the toy laden stairs, though he was used to taking two at a time, he allowed her to feel like she was being useful.

After all, he longed to feel useful again.

"Can we go and get some food? You stink of chips... and battered fish, and that bread didn't cut it."

The bread and jam that she had left on his working table, the same bread and jam that would no doubt be eaten by a curious and nosey Finn.

For Sebastian and Ada, they had always dealt with their issues via food. A bad day? No worries, a nice slice of bread and butter will help. A broken heart? Ah, that's no bother! A cake or two will stitch it right back up again. It was the only thing the duo had in common from before the war.

"Yeah, yeah- if that's what you want. So long as you tell me what the fuck it is you needed so desperately to tell me that you disrupted my sleep," Sebastian started, before relenting, "not that I needed it, mind."

Ada had never been one to stall before. She, like him, didn't find it necessary to. What made it all the more curious, was the need to leave their home.

Maybe she was going to tell him she was running away and this was her way of getting a head start, by telling him they were going back to the chip shop, just to turn him around and sneak off to the cut and jump on the first narrow boat she could find.

"Can you pay? I've only got enough for the pictures, and I really want to watch—"
"Yeah, whatever."

He had three one pound notes, and he was certain his sister would come up with the same idea.

As the door to their family home slammed shut, the duo headed back towards the docks. Not too far from Charlie's Yard, but far enough that the stretch from his previous journey there was starting to pull on his thigh muscles.

Silence, an uncomfortable one, fell upon them, both wanting to break it but neither were sure on the best way to do it.

People waved as they passed the housing estates, horns honked as they ducked underneath the foot bridge, until all they could hear was the sound of their own shoes against the cobbled streets of Small Heath.

It wasn't surprising that the streets were deserted by the docks, most were at work or on their way to do the school run.

Ada leant Sebastian against the wall as she walked into the chip shop with his three pound, and left with one large parcel of chips with extra vinegar, and a deal that the rest of the money was to be used for whoever walked in and asked for something to eat. He would've done the same, everyone deserved a special supper on a Friday, regardless of circumstances.

It was his only secret, that not even Thomas knew about. His pay, pension too, was split. Some for those who were less fortunate, some for himself and the rest, well... those funds were stashed in a wide array of places, waiting for a rainy day.

There was a little park, with two old rickety swings plonked in the middle of some well loved concrete, and that was where Ada had guided them to after a few more minutes of walking whilst eating.

At least it gave her something to do aside from fretting.

"Seb, I need to be really honest with you and I don't want you to get angry, and I don't want you to look at me with disappointment on your face." Ada started, the creak of the swing pulling Sebastian out of his thoughts for a moment before it became background noise. "Aunt Pol, she already knows — well, she guessed, really, but..."

What felt like an eternity of silence was broken with a strangled sob, Ada had never felt such anxiety before. She knew she was in good hands, she trusted him.

"I'm — I'm pregnant- and it's Freddie's."

Oh, he thought to himself, his face a wonderful painting of bewilderment and surprise. If she wanted to send him to an early grave, she was doing an excellent job.

"Are you- you know... keeping it?"

Sebastian silently scolded himself for such an inadequate question, he had no grace about it, he could've done it far better with a little flair too.

Ada laughed, though bitterly. She didn't know. She wanted to, of course she wanted to. Girls dreamed of the day they'd get married, and become mothers, but a baby... it made things difficult and Ada had her fair share of difficult, she didn't truly want any more.

"I think I am... but I don't know where Freddie is." She paused, nervously shovelling a few more chips into her mouth, head tipped skywards. "I want to keep it, I'm just — scared."

Sebastian knew the feeling of being scared, but he'd never know this feeling. The thought of bringing a child into the world, when one party is elsewhere, doing god only knows what — but he knew Freddie. He knew, that despite everything, he would do what was right. He'd marry Ada and they'd have a happy life together... maybe, he'd even drop this whole communism thing, too. But where did wishful thinking get him?

Nowhere.

————————

After walking from the dockyard to the cinema, to drop Ada off in time for the showing of ... whatever film it was she had wanted to watch - she had told him, he just didn't care enough about it to remember it, he made his way back home.

With a gentle hand from those who passed him by, Sebastian was put on the right track, knowing that someone Tommy hired wouldn't be too far behind him should things take a turn, or should he take a turn down the wrong street.

He had a dancing date with Aunt Pol, a tradition that had started almost four months after Michael and Anna were taken.

It had been his way of keeping her mind occupied with something less heart breaking. It didn't work, but the thought was what counted and Polly was grateful for it. For him, even.

Sebastian hadn't been able to dance when they started, and now he was as elegant as a professional, even if he occasionally stood on a toe or two.

Before the war, before things had turned hairy, he would go out into the bigger cities around him and dance. Every ladies name he'd gotten, would be passed onto John or Arthur, and every free drink split between the four of them. Family was the most important thing to have ever existed, and it still was.

The heavy wooden door to the house on the left of Watery Lane was propped open by the dustbin, as it always had been on Fridays, allowing Sebastian easy access to the front room.

It was quieter than usual, but he thought Polly was just changing her shoes into something more appropriate for dancing.

He hoped that was the case.

"Alright, Pol, are you ready to—"

The sound of someone clearing their throat cut him off, his head snapping to the side. The smell of the whiskey, cigarettes and horses hit him like a tonne of bricks.

Tommy. Of course it was Tommy!

"We need to talk."

A moment of silence passed between brothers, he could tell irritated cobalt blue eyes were fixed on his face, it was how Tommy always looked at him.

"No, Tom, we don't. Whatever you have to say can wait. I have plans and these plans won't be pushed back."

Shoes tapping against the wooden floor were drowned out by the sound of the cogs turning in Sebastian's mind. He wondered if a lackey had overheard Ada when they were at the park — or if someone had accosted her.

"Alright, deal. But we'll talk about why you aren't sleeping properly, and why Arthur fears you falling asleep at night, too."

Guilt flooded Tommys eyes, he knew it wasn't the way to bring up that topic, knowing himself how difficult it was to deal with but if Sebastian knew he wasn't alone...

Maybe it'd give them both a chance to heal, to move on — and to sleep soundly again.

Oh, bollocks! Sebastian thought to himself. He had gotten away with it for so long, he just thought no one had noticed the screaming... or the cries for help, both in English and a language only the Shelby's knew.