Arthur made his way through the door, as Tommy slammed Luca's head on the table over and over again. Finn staring in disbelief at his brother, as the oldest Shelby came to a stop. The memories of what had happened that night at the boxing match going through both Arthur and Tommy's minds, as Tommy dragged the Italian American gangster to stand. Luca's face bloodied and broken, as he looked at the man that should be dead. Arthur slowly raising the gun in his hand before firing. The bullet going through the middle of Luca's forehead, to the still behind him. Alcohol spilling from the hole, as the Italian dropped to the floor.

It was over. After all this time, it was over. The gun dropping from his hand, before he turned and left without a word. He would leave the explanation as to why he was not in fact dead, to their youngest brother, to Tommy; for he had more important things to do. Arthur running to the car and jumping in, before slamming his foot down on the accelerator; willing the machine to go as fast as it could.

He had to get to (Y/n). He had to show her, to let her see that he was very much alive. And when she believed him, he would have to hope that she would forgive him. That she would understand why Tommy had made the plan, and he had agreed to it. But most of all, he had to hope that it was not too late; that his beautiful wife was now not too ill, to come back to him.

Since Tommy had told him that (Y/n) was sick, his thoughts had been on every part of their lives together. From the moment that he, the rough gypsy boy, whose anger often led him to do more than his fair share of fighting, had met the rather elegant and sweet, but in her own way tough, beautiful little girl that had quickly become his friend. To the day that she had become his wife. Arthur never happier, never prouder than when he had watched her coming down the aisle towards him, in her white dress and veil. The moment the priest had stated that they were now man and wife, had been the moment that he had actually believed that he would cry with joy. And since they had married, (Y/n) had gone on to prove more and more that she was the only woman that he needed; the only woman that could truly love him the way that he needed. Being what he needed her to be, and doing what he needed her to do, when the Flanders blues would take over his mind.

(Y/n) had made him a better man, a good man. And though he still continued to work with the family firm, he had begun to think before he did things, rather than just act out of anger. And he in turn had done everything in his power to be the best husband that he could for her; loving her in every way possible. Promising never to hurt her. And he really had kept that promise; or he had until the night of the boxing match. So now, now he had a lot to make up for. Now he had to make that promise again, and this time.......this time nothing and no one would make him break it.

Finally, Polly's house came into view. Arthur wanting to get out of the car and just run, as everything seemed to slow. The automobile feeling as if it were crawling along at a snail's pace. The oldest Shelby swearing, cursing at God as he inched closer and closer. Arthur almost tearing his overcoat, as he finally stopped the car and jumped out, throwing open the front door and making his way inside. Taking the steps two at a time to get to the second floor. His hand shaking as he rested it on the handle of the door. His fear swallowed, before he quietly, carefully pushed open the ingress.

                                                         >>---------------------------------------<<

Arthur's heart broke as he came to stand over the bed. His wife was asleep yet appeared as though she were dead; her chest barely rising and falling, her skin paler than he had ever seen before. Her cheek's sunken and there a darkness below her eyes. Arthur falling to his knees, before hesitantly taking her hand in his; he afraid that he might just break her, if he squeezed too tight. Gulping at the heavy, bitter tasting lump that had formed in his throat, before he could even try to speak.

"(Y/n)............" Arthur able to hear the hint of fear in his voice.

"Luv......it's me........." He continued, when she did not stir.

"It's me.......Arthur. I've come back ta ya............" His heart frantically pounding against the inside of his chest, as slowly (Y/n)'s eyes began to open. A tear making its way down his cheek, as he saw that the light in this wife's eyes that he loved so much, was gone.

"A........Arthur...........?" (Y/n) managed to say, as she gingerly turned to look at him.

"Am......am I dead..........?" She continued. More tears making their way down his face, as she reached up and placed her hand on his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I.......I just couldn't live without you." Arthur shaking his head as tears blurred his vision. If he hadn't already known that she loved him, he most certainly would now.

"It's alright luv, I know. But ya not dead, and neither am I. I'm alive and I've come back like I promised.........I'm so sorry luv. I'm so fuckin sorry. I need ya ta come back ta me now. Ta live fa me, cos I can't live without you......." Arthur told her, before his head dropped to her side. (Y/n)'s hand moving to the back of his head, able to feel him tremble as he sobbed. Able to feel that it was true, and he was real. Rivers of tears now making their way from her own eyes. She not knowing how he was alive or where he had been, but at that moment she didn't care; all that mattered was that Arthur, her Arthur, was back with her. He had come back to her, and now she would come back to him, and never leave one another again.