Spring was upon you, as you strolled in soft strides through the open pasture. Even as a relentless winter refused to relinquish it's tight grasp on the atmosphere circling around you, as it's chill was ever present in the breaths that soared through your expanding lungs, you could feel the essence of spring.

The delicate morning dew, beaded on the very edges of blades of grass that brushed along the flesh of your shin bone, replacing the bitterness of frost with a gentleness that the land so desperately needed. The countryside rolled on for farther than your eyes could see, watching as it disappeared into the tree line, beyond the horizon pierced with the sharp tinge of gold from the awakening sun. A melting pot of lifeless yellow and fresh kelly green, the grass slowly returning to it's enrichened nature, before the stomp of a heavy winter had stolen the land's very soul. A thin fog rolled itself out across the pasture, a tender blanket engulfing the atmosphere with what resembled a spared breath, frozen in mid fall by the lasting clutch of the winter season.

The sky was a sight to behold that morning, as dawn slowly crept over the horizon in blinding tones of marigold that tore through the evening's remnants. But behind you, the sky remained a stilled void of deep indigo, as though the whisper that morning was near hadn't yet reached that side of the Earth. It was not a sharp line that separated the two skies, but rather an easy blending that you'd never witnessed before.

For out in the countryside, nestled amongst forests and forever rolling land left untouched by anyone other than the man who owned it, you could see everything. In the city, the sky was obstructed by the heavy cast of smog puffed into the dense atmosphere from the always churning factories, the sight of stars nearly lost as the bright gleam of burning fires blistered brighter than twinkling orbs a million miles away. In the city, the night sky was merely a blanket of black that told you the long day had finally been put to rest. But out here, you could see every single imperfection along the stretch of the sky, you'd always believed it to turn black when evening was upon it, marveling at the truth of its rich indigo blue hue.

The bright pierce of the rising sun contrasted the tender flickers of an endless sprinkle of stars, twinkling just across the way from it's blinding burn, a mesmerizing sight as you felt your steps having stopped as you gazed up at the melding skies. The right, shrouded in the shadows of night, the stars high in their rightful place as they lent a gentle glow down upon the land that hadn't yet to be awakened by the prospect of a new day. And to your left, it was the sight of the land just beginning to rouse, as the sun cut through the horizon and slowly bled it's golden glow up into the air. Watching as it spread like an oozing wound, seeping until it began to tentatively illuminate the freshly bloomed land that awaited below for it's warming rays.

You'd never stood amongst a stretch of land that appeared to have two entirely different atmospheres hovering above your stilled frame and you couldn't help but wonder, as you stared breathlessly up at the infusion of light and dark, if this was why Thomas loved sleeping out here.

You knew he was out here, long before you'd awoken to a bed vacant and cold, for he'd never come to bed that night. His pillow left unscathed by the imprint of his restless head, the ivory sheets left bunched around your frame as he'd never needed any for himself that night, the air that you awoke to barely tinged with the scent of his cologne. Thomas Shelby had slipped away to sleep beneath the open sky as he so often did.

The occurrence becoming more and more frequent now, ever since he'd been forced into taking a few months off, and although it frightened you at first, Polly Grey assured you that for him, it was normal. She'd told you stories of how he'd sleep beneath the open sky, breathing in the cold of the night under the comforting presence of the stars, when he was a boy. Somedays having to be found by his uncle and sweet Curly, carrying him back into the house when the weather became too treacherous. Tommy distanced himself from the gypsy boy he was growing up, but no matter how far he traveled, no matter how much he tried to change himself and the very lifestyle he strived to live, Polly had told you that there was no getting rid of his gypsy blood.

You knew right where to find him, as you pattered softly on bare feet through the long corridors of Arrow House, the tall walls still consumed in the dense presence of nightfall. Making sure to clasp young Charlie's door quietly, as not to alert him to awaken far before he needed to be, before making your way outside into the chilled air that had only just begun to echo softly with the chirp of the blackbirds. Their songs light and distant, as though they themselves had yet to fully awaken.

You didn't always go out searching for Tommy, somedays simply knowing that he needed the solace and the silence, deciding you were more of need inside of the house when Charlie woke or when Tommy concluded to come back. Some mornings, as you stared longingly out the front set of windows, you could see the single trickle of dark smoke expelling into the air from wherever he'd settled for the night. And with that simple mark of his presence out amongst the rolling nature, you uncovered him this morning, by the flickering remnants of a fire that continued to burn in front of his hunched over silhouette.

You were sure that Tommy heard your approaching presence, if not for the boots that crunched over the dried up grass that had yet to spring back to life, than for the fact that Tommy heard everything. Perhaps, he'd always been this perceptive, even as a young child growing up on Watery Lane. Maybe, it was something he'd immediately inherited from fighting for his country and for his life in France. Or it could be as simple as the fact that Tommy knew whenever you were near. But for whatever reason, you knew your company was not lost on his knowledge, even as he made not a single movement to address it.

He remained still and stoic, his back broad and strong as his arms wrapped around his knees that were pulled close to his chest. Even as his black coat trailed down his back, covering the fabric of soft ivory from his long sleeved undershirt, you could just about make out every swell of muscle that tightened and tensed beneath his subdued stance. For perhaps, this was as relaxed as Tommy would ever appear, forever stiff and weighed down with the burden of the world. Even in an element in which the calmness of a clear and star dusted sky breathed its way into his lungs, very little could ever be done to force his body to relinquish the tight hold in which it kept Tommy's being captive.

The rich scent of crackling cedar, consumed in the dwindling but still strongly burning flames of Tommy's contained fire, engulfed your senses. The powerful aroma of scorched fire wood, overtaking the tobacco that lingered along the breath that followed Tommy's very trail. The only smoke that descended into the open atmosphere, came from the fanned flames of the campfire keeping Tommy warm through the chill of the night, a rare moment when he hadn't a cigarette lit in his hands or hung limp between his lips. It was simply Tommy and the open sky, no booze to coat his tongue and muddle the thoughts he tried to avoid, his smokes tucked in his pocket instead of clouding up his lungs stick after stick. His vices set aside, in attempt for the open air above and the fresh grass beneath him, to soothe away his anguish.

The aroma of nature presented itself amidst the density of scorched wood, a crispness that you felt trail along the smoke inhaled with each breath. A coolness, trickling through your lungs as the scent of a blooming spring season cut through the persistency of the fading winter. It was a breath that teetered just as the uncommitted atmosphere did, on the nimble line between night and daybreak. For the sharp chill of a new morning's dew engulfed your inhale and yet, there was a weight to the oxygen that spoke of the heaviness that lingered in the depths of a waning night.

It was not cold enough that your deep exhale expelled visible in the air in front of your eyes, but you could feel your softly shaken breath fan against the chilled flesh of your face, as you walked through the transparent breath. Listening to the soft crunch of the lingering dried up grass beneath the weight of your steps, approaching Tommy in cautious strides, sure with each step you ventured that he would surely speak up. Address your presence, perhaps send you away as he had once or twice in the past when all he'd wanted was to be alone, listening to his mind talk to itself about him on a relentless and paralyzing loop. But the closer you got, Tommy remained just as silent and seemingly unbeknownst to your growing company.

There was always a sense of unease that ran through your veins when you approached Tommy in this state. Not only just in part to the obvious suffering of his battered and bruised mind, but of the chance that he'd turn you away, shutting you down in the cold and callous fashion that you'd unfortunately been acquainted with in the past. It wasn't an easy feat, getting Thomas Shelby to trust, let alone trust one enough to witness him in a state of fracture and pain. But despite the nights when he'd forced you away and tore himself from your comforting arms, shaking off the words he'd hurled in tones that cut deeper than any shouts that could echo their way through the room, you continued to try.

For even when he shut himself down, rather drowning himself in whiskey, as though the burn of that amber liquid would be enough to sustain him, than face you, you persisted in your efforts. Even if it just meant being there when he decided to come home after a night in the pastures. Even if it meant taking care of his boy when Tommy could hardly take care of himself.

"Francis tell you where I was?"

His voice startled you, as your footsteps came to a subtle halt only a pace or two behind him. for you hadn't expected Tommy to speak first, or at all for that matter. It sounded boisterous in the open air, as though it might just tremble the Earth and send a flutter of blackbirds out from the tree line in a burst of ebony. However, even as the rumble of his low voice felt staggering in the void of deep silence that had settled itself upon the rolling landscape, his tone was anything but sharp. Anything but angry or agitated or even exasperated.

In fact, there was a softness to Tommy's tone that spoke to the rawness perhaps, still left inflamed from his night hidden away amongst the countryside. There was genuine curiosity that saturated his words, a simple inquiry that begged no other reason lingering beneath it's surface, just a question of honest wonderment in your discovery of him as dawn slowly spread itself across the horizon ahead of him.

"No," You hummed softly, but remained still on your feet, as though the soles of your boots had planted roots in the soil beneath your stance. "I had a feeling you'd be here, when you never came to bed and I saw the soft trail of smoke from the window."

You weren't sure if Tommy's peaky cap was simply tucked away in the pocket of his coat or if he'd left it inside before leaving at the nightfall, but either way, without the shade of his hat he wore low over his forehead in an attempt to hide away his eyes, you could see his faint movements clearer. For the nod of his head, a mere bob that if it were hidden within the charcoal tweed of his cap, you knew you would have missed completely.

"Charlie awake?"

You shook your head softly, even though you knew Tommy couldn't see the motion. "No, he's still sleeping. I closed his door on my way out here, peeked in and heard his soft little snores."

You couldn't see Tommy's face from where you stood behind his sullen frame, but you knew in your heart, that the edge of his lips twitched with your words. For you knew of the nights Tommy slipped into Charlie's room, long after his tender head had hit his pillow while the clock ticked closer to midnight and simply watched his son sleep. There was something in the sight, an innocence so pure and unscathed by the world that Tommy knew, that pulled at the strings still remaining in the core of Tommy's hidden heart. For a part of Tommy, no matter how naïve he knew it to be, wished for nothing but to keep that boy as innocent as he was right now. He didn't want his boy to be exposed to the harsh realities of a world that would do all it could to take a Shelby down, he wanted to keep him as he was. Peaceful and happy, unaware and youthful, for as long as he possibly could.

Tommy didn't speak up again after your words disintegrated in the air, fading away into the melding indigo and golden sky, like the trail of smoke that simply ceased in visibility once it reached a certain height. The silence settling softly once again, over the swell of the rolling land and the shoulders of the two souls who stood upon it. It took only three short paces for you to reach Tommy, as your boots began to move tentatively towards him again, finding the fluffy patch of freshly budded grass softening the blow of your steps.

The unease that had begun to flow through your veins, right beside the very blood pumping to keep you alive, slowly faded as your shadow casted in a gentle breath over Tommy's broad shoulders. It wasn't often that it was you who hovered above him, as most days he towered with a daunting shade over your frame, but as he sat upon the Earth with his arms coiled around his bent knees, your soft spoken presence had the rare ability to engulf him.

Perhaps, the sight of him this way, raw and accessible, was the reason why the unease in approaching him suddenly seemed to fade from your body. Maybe it was the way you hovered above him, feeling for once like you held a shred more power than the man who always appeared to hold it all did. But as you watched as his body remained resigned and unmoving, his head hanging evenly as his bold blue eyes watched the sun embark to rise over the hidden horizon line, you realized that the reason behind your disappearing notion of anxiety was simple.

Tommy needed someone, even when he thought he was better off alone. He needed someone to hold him when his mind tore him apart, suffering in the silence he'd plunged himself into with his booze infused isolation. Tommy needed you and in that moment, as you watched him stare out into the open air as though by a shred mercy, it might just hold the remedy for his pain, you wanted nothing more than to hold him.

Shifting your feet forward not even a full inch, you bent down until your arms, that were draped in the soft wool of Tommy's navy blue cardigan, that he'd discarded the day before after a dreadful outing on the golf course, slowly extended across his shoulders.

Curling your arms around his neck in a tender embrace, flattening your palms against the muscular swell of his beating chest, instead of intertwining your fingers together. Feeling the warmth of his flesh soaking straight through the thin material of his ivory undershirt, the heavy breaths soaring through his lungs, as he inhaled a sharp breath with the feel of your arms wrapping around him. Bending further, as your palms slid across the clothed ridges and swells of his toned physique, your lips found the base of his neck. Kissing him in the tenderest of caresses, feeling the heat of his flesh beneath the soft patter of your lips.

"Where's your head at Thomas?" You whispered against his skin that smelled of the wind and the richness of the Earth. The faint remnants of his fading cologne and of the strong smoke that flickered from the fire.

For somedays, it was still in France. Down in the tunnels, kicking clay until it very nearly buried him alive. Other days, it simply fell at the mercy of the ghost of whomever haunted him that day. It had been a long time since Thomas Shelby's mind had truly belonged to him and him alone, unscathed by the touch of man or the harsh realities of an unrelenting life.

Your lips remained soft against the nape of his neck, barely brushing the surface but the warmth of your gently funneling breath kept your presence in place, until you felt the spread of warmth running along the bend of your knuckles. Turning your head a short fraction, pulling away from his neck as to gaze downward where your hands laid flat and steady against Tommy's beating chest, you watched as his hands lifted and slid over your own. Capturing your flesh in his own, concealing the sight of your fingers after a moment, until your hands that held him close were all but enveloped in his own sudden embrace.

Tommy's exhale expelled into the atmosphere in a gentle gust, releasing with a faint audible presence that you heard touch your ears, but could feel even more in the deep expansion beneath your tender touch. "A long fucking way from here."

His response, was not one that took you by surprise and yet, it still caused your eyes to flutter shut at the solemn truth of his answer. Swallowing deeply at the candor that flowed so effortlessly from the part in his lips, but sank like a boulder in the pit of your stomach. This was not new for Thomas, this war inside of his head. Having survived the one he'd willingly signed up for, coming back only to suffer in an entirely new war, one in which he'd never asked to be a part of in the slightest.

He'd been stuck in this turmoil ever since you met him, perhaps even more so, as you'd met him shortly after his wife tragically passed away. Leaving him heartbroken without a genuine way to grieve, alone with a son who needed him more now than ever, spiraling towards rock bottom that loomed not far out in the distance. You knew you couldn't completely heal him, you knew you could never erase the pain and trauma that had etched itself across the frayed strings of his heart and the torn fragments of his brilliant mind. You knew that a part of Tommy would always remain the same. But the one thing that you could do, no matter the challenges and turmoil he tossed your way, the one thing you could do was love him and hope. Hope that one day, your love might just be enough to help him heal a shred of his existence that needed relief.

The gentle but strong grip of Tommy's hand squeezing your own, draws your attention back down to Earth and out of the clouds muddling your mind with melancholy thoughts. Peering your eyes back open, you glance down at Tommy's hand that commands your focus and something about him, has the uncanny capability of knowing your every movement without even having to see your face. For he knew when your eyes reopened and he knew when you were sure to hear his voice amidst the dense fog of your overwhelming worries.

"C'mere."

Tommy's voice is low, nearly rumbling his words across the rolling land and off into the rising sun. But within the tenderness of a tone that falls beneath the breath of a murmur, an earnestness presides. For it captivates you, his gentle but assertive tone and the feeling of his hands that hold your own, tugging softly. Making you relinquish your arms from around his neck and lift them from their warming place upon the flesh concealing his beating heart.

But Tommy keeps hold of your right hand, your fingers residing in the palm of his calloused hand as you move slowly around on his left. Your legs brushing against his bent knee, until Tommy tugs at your hand and pulls you down upon the grass with him. He doesn't flatten his legs and he doesn't force you to sit beside him, but rather pulls you into the grass between his spread legs. Encircling you with his bent knees on either side of your frame, feeling as though you could very well sink into Tommy's embrace, as his arms coil around you.

Tommy Shelby was a man who exuded a cold, irreverent presence most of his days and yet, as his strong arms engulfed you into his confining but comforting embrace, there was an undeniable warmth in his actions. Not only from the heat of his flesh that burned with such a force, that all clothing covering his skin became meaningless in their pursuits, but from the way in which Tommy held you. With tight arms as though to keep you there, for as long as he willed to keep you. His hold powerful, as you knew even if you tried with all your strength, that his arms would remain in place no matter your struggles. His embrace iron clad as if you were merely a rag doll in his grasps or perhaps, in an attempt to keep you in his confines as though the rising sun might just cause you to vanish between his fingers, like sand slipping through an hour glass.

Tommy's embrace was strong and to some, suffocating. But to you, there was a tenderness and a warmth that he didn't often allow himself to exude, that your heart pined for. Because being held by Tommy Shelby, was like being held in the gentle hands of the universe. For you knew, with his arms coiled tightly around your frame and the heat of his breath fanning against the side of your neck, that you were safer right here in this very moment, than any other time in your life.

Tommy's nose, although mostly warm, still held a touch of the cold that had captured his flesh overnight. The very tip of his nose dragging against the swell of your neck, pricking a sharp trail of cold as though if you were to gaze up at his face, you might witness the softest tinge of pink burning his skin. The chill he buried in the nape of your neck, soon subsides as the warmth of his breath melts away any trace of the lingering cold. His exhale, blowing gently against your flesh and you can feel the way he inhales the scent of your skin, as if for a mere moment in time, it might just bring him an ounce of solace.

Your eyes flutter at the enticing sensation of Tommy's lips against your skin, the gentle peppering of kisses that soak immediately into the warming flesh of your neck as you gaze out at the landscape. Watching, as the minutes pass in the feeling of mere seconds gone by, as the sun illuminates the countryside in it's golden presence. Seeping further into the indigo that lingers from the night before, banishing away the traces of darkness and glittering stars, with its imposing and blindingly bright marigold gleam.

You couldn't say with any shred of certainty just how long you sat like that, coiled in the arms of the man you loved, watching as the sun rose with the daunting prospects of a brand new day. As a comfortable silence had sought out your stilled frames and nestled it's easy presence above you, as though a cloud gracing you with a gentle bout of shade. But it felt like hours had passed by, before you listened to the way your voice spoke up and splintered the quiet void.

"I wish I could bring it back," Your words, meek in their breathless and mid-thought tone, fell from your lips in a puff of air so light, it barely punctured the atmosphere in front of you. But Tommy heard your words, absorbing them as he pressed another kiss against the warmth of your flesh. Feeling beneath his lips, the way your neck tensed and released with your deep swallow and soft spoken expression. "bring your mind back home for you. I wish that I could help clear it, bring it and you some peace, for once in your life Tommy."

Tommy remained quiet as your vulnerable admission danced its way along his sense of sound, lifting in a floating breath into the illuminated atmosphere, trailing away from you as though a twirling speck never to be seen again. But the words you'd spoken in a breath softer than a hushed murmur, weighed with an indisputable presence upon your heart, as you watched day after day the way Tommy struggled to fight the devils ripping his mind apart.

He'd sold his soul and made deals with more devils than one should ever have to in a single lifetime, all so that he might have the strength to carry on. But they were coming to collect now, as Tommy was forced to rest and take a breath and it burdened your heart to witness the way they wrecked havoc on a man who appeared as an impenetrable pillar of strength, forcing him to his knees in a crumbling mess of spilled Gin and intoxicating smoke.

"You bring it back," Tommy's voice is nearly lost, as he mumbles softly against your neck. Refusing to pull away from the warmth and sweet smelling nature of your skin, as he begins to speak in a low rolling tone. Feeling the vibrations of his words along your flesh, sending faint shivers up your spine as the deep Birmingham infused voice, all but seeps beneath the surface of your skin. "I think."

"I think, with you," Tommy pauses, feeling a deep exhale of heat wash over your neck as lean further back into his tightening embrace. His arms wrapped around you, increasing the strength in which they hold you, as if they coincide with the candor spilling slowly from his muffled lips. "its as close to being home as it has been in a long fucking time."

You remained that way, engulfed in Tommy's strong embrace and the comforting touch of his words, until the new day's sun completely eradicated any evidence of the night before. Neither one of you shifting, only the faint peppering of a chaste kiss against your neck from Tommy's warm lips from time to time, as though to remind you or perhaps himself, that you were still right there. You hadn't seen the entirety of the sunrise, with your eyes closed in a serene moment feeling the powerful beating of Tommy's heart against your back, but you felt it. Expanding across your flesh, warming any trace of the chill in the air that nipped at your skin. Illuminating your encased frame in a pure light, feeling as it climbed higher and higher until you were bathed beneath it's golden hue.

There might not be such a thing as peace for Thomas Shelby in this world, but perhaps with you, he might come as close as he ever could to discovering what it might just feel like.

A/N: Ahh, this one makes my heart soft and happy!❤😭

I've had this tender idea for awhile, as I really loved the imagery and scenery where it takes place, and the little details about where in Tommy's mental state it takes place. (Specifically after season 4, because honestly, those scenes will never not make me cry in the show!) I really love exploring little intimate moments with Tommy, because even when they are rare and more scarce in the later seasons, there is something so very beautiful and raw about them. I like exploring the softer moments when his humanity shows, even if it means diving into the pain and turmoil that holds him captive. I hope you all enjoyed this piece, I am very very happy with what I was able to create here and really enjoyed writing it! ❤