Sullivan was glad she wasn't alone anymore when Tommy was away. Her home was always filled with laughter, even when she wasn't with him, because now she had a brother to talk to.

It wasn't always easy, however. In the back of her mind, Sully never forgot that he had agreed to sell her to a man, back in America, and even if he didn't, at least he let her father do this to her. She tried to forgive because she didn't want to be on bad terms with her brother, but some days were harder than others.

This morning, Sully didn't feel the strength to face her brother, so instead she walked down Garrison lane, pushing the pub doors where she found Arthur, sitting at the counter, a glass of whiskey in front of him and a cigarette hanging between his fingers. "It's still early, love," the man spoke as he turned to her, motioning for her to close the door and take a seat at a nearby table.

"What can I say," the blonde surrendered as sitting at the table, watching Arthur place a glass of whiskey and a cigarette in front of her. "I was awake."

Arthur hummed, exiting a minuscule blue bottle and putting it down on the table, his eyes contemplating it intently. "You shouldn't," he stated, unclogging the bottle and placing some white powder on the back of his hand, snorting it quickly. "Wanna try?" he offered, sliding the tiny bottle towards her carefully.

Sullivan grasped the bottle, examining it. "What is it?" she asked, shrugging as an answer to Arthur's question, watching him mimic what she should do to try it properly.

"Tom calls it Tokyo," the man responded with a frown, watching the blonde snort her cocaine away, squeaking when it was done, the uncomfortable feeling of the powder traveling through her nose bothering her for a second. "You shouldn't tell Tommy if we want to stay alive."

She closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of relaxation spreading through her body. "I won't," she stated, opening her light gaze on Arthur's concerned face. Sullivan leaned towards him, her hand reaching for his lighter. "What's bothering you, old friend?"

Arthur stared at her lighting up her cigarette, his mind remembering all the good times they had spent together through the years. She had grown so much. "I didn't know ya had a brother," he spoke, his face showing his genuine feeling of slight betrayal.

"Only Tommy did," Sully replied, watching the smoke she was blowing flying around them. "I ran away, Arthur," she announced, the drug making the words easier to tell. "I killed someone, in America. An ex-husband, sorta. He was violent, I killed him and I took the first boat for Birmingham."

Arthur didn't say a word for a minute, trying to imagine her in this kind of life, the kind of life that destroyed people. That made sense. "I understand why you never bloody spoke about that," he stated, compassion flashing in his eyes, "but why didn't you tell us about your family?"

Sully cleared her throat, downed her drink and cleared her throat again, trying to remove the lump that had formed in her throat. "My family's the reason why I fucking got married to him," she explained, lifting to meet Arthur's eyes. "Ya know, Arthur, when I first met you, the Peaky weren't what they are now. Sometimes business scares me because this is why I got trapped in this wedding. And I'm afraid that it'll happens to one of us, but then I remember that you won't allow that, any of you."

Arthur sighed heavily, staring down at her shaky fingers still holding her cigarette. He pulled his hand over her wrist, comforting her the best he could. After a few moments, she crushed her cigarette in the ashtray, rubbing her temples slightly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she spoke softly, filling the silence between them. "You're my best friend, I should've told you."

"I understand," Arthur affirmed, squeezing her hand gently. "Besides, I would've killed your bloody brother if I'd knew," he joked, making the blonde giggle softly.

She thanked him silently by squeezing his hand back, sensing his own need for comfort. Arthur was probably the strongest person she knew, however, sometimes he needed some attention and comfort too. Sullivan opened her mouth to speak when the man stood up, gathering his glass and her empty one, as if knowing she was about to ask questions. Silently, she grabbed the ashtray in front of her and put the chairs back on the table, sliding behind the counter to wash their dirty glasses and threw away her roach in the closest bin.

Arthur walked to the pub doors, opening them to the public. He had barely enough time to walk back towards the counter when a lady entered the pub, stepping inside quite hesitantly. She looked around her, her brunette hair tied in a low bun and her face seemed pretty tired, her eyes circled by purple rings. She pursed her lips when she spotted Arthur near the counter, the barmaid behind it sensing the tension in the air.

The woman was scanning Arthur's face, as if it was the very first time she had seen one of the Shelby in the street, taking in sight every detail of his face. "The cleaning job's gone," Arthur spoke up, startling the woman who almost jumped. "Vacancy's filled."

The woman seemed to hesitate for another second before her face darkened. A thrill ran down Sully's spine when she watched the shift of emotions on the woman's exhausted face. "I'm not a cleaner," the woman responded, looking through her bag quickly before pulling out a gun, pointing it in Arthur's direction. "But I have come to clean away some dirt."

Sullivan gasped, staring at the armed lady. She had to admit, that woman had balls to point a fucking gun at a Shelby. The blonde could see the woman's hands shaking, the gun almost falling for her grasp. "Why don't you put that away before it goes off?" Arthur's unimpressed voice rang through the pub, the woman's breath being heavier quickly.

"Arthur," Sullivan called quietly, trying to soothe the man in case this brunette, tiny lady was serious.

"You killed my son, you Peaky bastard!" the woman screamed, her voice breaking as she spoke the words. Her voice was distorted with pain. "You beat him and beat him and beat him."

"Your son was a boxer," Arthur argued quietly, his own hands starting to shake as he pressed one against the counter as if looking for his balance.

"No!" the woman exclaimed, tears rolling down her cheeks as she spoke. "He was a boy who got into a ring with an animal."

Arthur looked away from her, his voice barely hearable. "Yeah, ain't that the truth."

Sullivan's heart beat faster in her chest as she looked back and forth between the two of them, calculating her chances to make it in this no man's land before one of them got hurt. "Listen -" she tried to interject but the woman didn't let her enough time to speak her mind.

"I've come to stop you," the woman explained in a low tone, her voice threatening. "Because the coppers and nobody else will."

Sullivan freaked out this time, for real. Even more when Arthur place himself in front of the woman, facing her with all his height. "If you're going to use it, point that thing at my head.

That's where the trouble is," he ordered, motioning for her to point her gun at his head. "Gut-shot soldiers take half a day to die. I've seen 'em, walking around with their guts in their arms like dirty washing."

"Arthur!" Sullivan exclaimed, stepping towards them.

"Hold that gun up and do it," he almost pleaded, his voice calm. "Well, then, do it! Do it!" He shouted the words in the woman's face, whom of which was shaking for head to toes.

"Enough!" the blonde screamed from the counter, rushing to their sides. She pushed Arthur's chest so he would step back, and for the first time, the woman looked at her. Her dark eyes settled on the blonde's soft face, finding comfort in her younger self. If that fucker hadn't killed her son in cold blood, maybe he would've reach that barmaid's age, got married.

But instead, he was laying in a cold grave, alone and dead. Already dead. "I'm gonna finish my drink," Arthur indicated, which brought the lady back to reality. She tried to look at him above Sully's shoulder, but the blonde cut her action off.

"Don't look at him," she ordered, her authoritarian tone calming the lady down. "Look at me. I don't know how it feels to lose a child, probably because I don't have children, but I can only imagine how painful it is. I won't claim to say that I understand your pain, because I simply don't. However," she spoke louder when the woman opened her mouth to interject, "I do know that killing someone, regardless of how much pain you're enduring, will never, ever make you feel better."

The woman seemed to think about Sully's words for a second, before she was staring right into the blonde's eyes. "You want to know what it feels like to lose your child? It's like being stabbed each second in your heart, reminding you that your fucking child, the person you gave birth to, would never see what you're seeing right now. I hope you'll feel it one day," she added.

Sullivan's mouth opened wide, her eyes darkened by anger. "Listen to me -" she asked when the woman shot her gun for the first time, and the last time of the morning.

The blonde jumped, instantly bringing her hand to her heart to check if it was still beating. Even the brunette in front of her seemed surprised by the shot, the shattered glass falling on the ground shocking her. Arthur was by her side in a flash, grasping the weapon from the woman's shaking hands, pushing the blonde behind him strongly. The woman fell on a chair behind her, sobbing loudly as Arthur emptied the gun from his bullets on the table, some of them even rolling on the floor. Once it was empty, Arthur glanced at his friend behind her, checking if she was okay, while she was staring at the broken mirror in the back of the Garrison.

"Now, look," Arthur's strong voice spoke again, catching the sobbing woman's attention. "Look at me. We've got a fund. For you, you'll get paid weekly. I know it won't bring back your son. I know that. And you have other sons." At the mention of her other children, the woman's eyes lifted to Arthur once again, staring at him with all the hatred inhabiting her. "You do. And we'll find them work. And you won't have to work, you'll be -"

The woman's voice raised again in a scream while she turned the table down, the rest of her gun's bullets rolling on the floor, one of them even hitting Sully's heels. It was heartbreaking to hear, this upset scream expressing all her pain. "Someone has got to stop you people," she spoke, turning on her heels and exiting the pub quickly, leaving behind her weapon.

Sullivan didn't know what to say. She crouched down to collect the bullets and the gun, putting it on another near table, her fingers still shaking a little. Arthur sighed loudly, running a hand through his hair, his expression showing the inside battle in his head. Before one of them could talk, John pushed the door open, catching sight of the broken mirror in the back of the Garrison.

"Who broke the fucking mirror? Seven years bad luck, that is," he stated, already pushing the back door and leaving the friends to themselves. This time, Sullivan didn't hesitate to speak, wrapping her arms around Arthur's shoulders from behind.

"It'll be okay," she shushed, though she wasn't sure if it really would.

-----

When she stepped into her house after her shift that night, Sullivan was still thinking about the woman from earlier. She was so far gone into her thoughts she barely noticed her brother sitting down on the couch, Lizzie Stark perched on the other one. "You're home," Carl greeted, standing up.

"Yeah," she answered, waving at the other woman. The blonde entered the kitchen, her eyes focused on a bottle of whiskey, almost empty, but there was still enough liquid to soothe her tonight. She grabbed it and a glass, waving to the pair in the living room. "I'm going upstairs, have fun you two."

Carlisle shared a concerned look with Lizzie while Sully climbed up the staircase, closing her bedroom door quickly after she had stepped in. Pouring herself a full glass of whiskey, she downed it fast, her eyes focused on the only picture decorating her bedside table: the only picture she had from her family, the younger version of her posing between her two oldest brothers, the both of them holding her in their arms and lifting her up.

It has not always been chaos in her family. She could easily remember a time when they were happy together, laughing around the table and reading stories before bed. She could remember her mother singing along with her and Carlisle, Samual and her Dad only listening because their voices sucked. Sullivan recalled the compliments the Shelbys had made her when she had first sang in the Garrison, but her voice was nothing compared to her mother's. Carlisle and she had inherited from that gift, Sully's personal one being piano.

Richard had always loved to hear his daughter playing the evenings when there wasn't any argument ongoing between them. She would just sit at their piano, play and listen to her mother's voice, fondly memorizing every note Irene was singing to practice.

When did all of this fall apart?

Sullivan couldn't remember the exact moment every part of her life started to get destroyed; however, she did remember the feeling it brought in her chest to see her family falling apart in front of her, destroyed by risky business and lack of love. She recalled telling herself 'away it goes' when she thought about the happiness and love that had once settled in her home - and in her chest.

The forced marriage broke her into her soul, but witnessing her family distancing from each other hurt her heart in the deepest.

Mentally, she couldn't help but compare the Millers to the Shelbys.

Thomas was different from every other gang leader she had knew. He might be cold as ice when it came to his business, somewhere deep within his corrupted soul he knew the boundaries he shouldn't cross if he didn't want to lose his entire family. He had already crossed them once or twice, testing them only to get burned when he played with fire too much. He wasn't perfect, but he did learn his lessons every time he had to.

Somewhere in her drunk mind, Sullivan was doubting a sentence he had told her once. "I'm doing all of this for the family we already have, and for the one we'll build."

If her heart had warmed up when she had heard these words, Sully was afraid they would destroy her too. If Tommy was everything she had ever wanted, the one she had ever loved, she knew very well she would do whatever she had to in order to protect him. There wouldn't be any strong enough boundaries she wouldn't cross, there wouldn't have any long enough distance between them which would stop her from finding him. She was afraid of that part of her.

Sullivan's heart was breaking each time he had to leave for his business, regardless if it was for another part of Birmingham or London. Tommy was her securing point, her safe place. She would never get tired of hearing him telling stories about his youth, or watching him speaking in Romanian to his horses, trying to remember the words he was saying to learn them later. Sullivan's heart had been made to host Thomas Shelby inside of it.

She hoped he was feeling the same towards her, and her drunk and insecure side laughed at her to believe that.

However, her other side, the loving, admiring and actually not that drunk side swore she would never let the happiness Thomas fucking Shelby was bringing into her heart go away.