Chapter Text
Freshly 18, Rose set foot in Small Heath for the first time in almost three years.
Rose had grown up in Small Heath with her grandmother. She was, as the other children would say, a bastard born to a teen mother. Her father was somewhere off in London, likely with a normal family, and her mother had passed away during Rose’s birth. So, that left her grandmother to take care of her, alongside her neighbour Mrs. Gray. She’d spent many an afternoon at the Gray household, where the Shelby children spent most of their time. She was closest with Tommy; only two years older than her, he was quiet and preferred to be alone, but he never protested when she’d join him beneath the tree in the yard and read stories to him from books she’d taken from her grandmother’s miniature library.
As her grandmother aged, it was increasingly clear that Rose’s time in Small Heath could not last, and her aunt from America had whisked her away before she could even dream of voicing a complaint. And many a complaint she voiced once the boat docked overseas. America was fine, but it wasn't home. Then, her grandmother passed, and she was to return to Small Heath for a funeral. Selfishly, Rose was excited to return.
She’d missed the Shelby siblings terribly. The thought of leaving again made her heart break; worse than it had when she first left. It was why, when confronted by Tommy outside of Polly Gray’s home with a question about the length of her stay, Rose couldn’t be honest. Three months .
“I’ll be here a while,” she said. While 3 months technically fell within that category, she knew that Tommy interpreted it differently, and she didn’t bother to correct him.
Polly had been the first of the family to know, naturally, having spoken with Rose’s aunt after Rose asked to stay at her home. At the request of Rose, however, she agreed to keep it to herself. Better that than to meddle.
Arthur had been the first Shelby sibling to find out. He’d overheard Rose and Polly speaking about the details of her departure. Rose begged him not to tell anyone, to which he responded with an apathetic grunt. He didn’t care, truly, and Rose was grateful for that.
John and Ada found out a month later. They were angry at first, but agreed to keep her secret, though not without some questions. Finn was much too young to notice or care about any of the ardent conversations between Rose and Ada about the topic. That left Tommy.
Rose had tried to tell him, of course. Each morning, she awoke with the resolve to spill her secret, but everytime she saw him, she felt the words die in her throat. He had changed so much since they’d last seen each other; no longer just the quiet boy that defended her on the playground, he’d grown much stronger and taller, and the sight of his lopsided smirk and icy blue eyes made Rose’s stomach twist in an unfamiliar way. She spent most of her days with him, and most of her nights. He’d climb onto the roof of Polly’s house and sneak Rose out through her bedroom window, just as they had before she moved. The two would spend the night by a crumbled wall at the edge of town, just along the treeline, and they’d stare at the stars together in content silence. Sometimes, their fingers would intertwine above the dew-covered grass, and Rose’s cheeks would burn in the dark.
One month turned into two, and then two turned into three, and Rose still hadn’t told him. The Shelby siblings had decided to throw a going away party for her the night before she left; she'd told Tommy they just wanted a night of drinking and music at Polly's house for the fun of it. Rose had tried her best to play along at first, dancing with Ada in the small living room while Arthur and John sang along to the crackling record player in the corner of the room. Still, it was difficult to ignore Tommy’s gaze, which seemed to follow her all night. He sat at the kitchen table, still and silent, nursing a glass of amber liquid. The changed atmosphere had not been lost on him.
As little Finn joined Ada’s dance, giggling in her arms, Rose looked for Tommy. He was gone, but the ever so quiet creaking above her head gave him away. She was sure the noises were meant for her to hear. Excusing herself from the room, Rose slipped out and crept up the stairs, the sounds of the party still raging on behind her. As she pushed open the door to the room she'd been staying in, she felt the air leave her lungs at the sight of Tommy leaning against the far wall, gazing at something far over the horizon through the cracked window.
"Hello," Rose murmured. Tommy turned to her as she shut the door behind her, her cheeks flushed. "Didn't anyone ever warn you about venturing into the rooms of unmarried young women?" she joked. Tommy chuckled, spinning a toothpick between his teeth.
"Want to enlighten me?"
Rose laughed. She took careful steps across the hardwood floor, trying her best to avoid alerting the creaking wood. "Well, someone might think you're up to something sinful, and then we'd have to get married. I am a Christian woman, after all."
"Are you?" he hummed. As Rose reached him, his hand brushed against her sleeve before his fingers found hers, interlocking them together. "Then I suppose we'll have to get married."
Rose could hardly stand being looked at this close. She looked away, staring at the darkness beyond her window.
"Wouldn't that be nice," she mumbled. It no longer sounded like a joke.
“Something wrong?” Tommy asked. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, sending a shiver down her spine.
“No,” she lied. She cleared her throat. “It was all just getting to be a bit much.”
“You looked like you were enjoying yourself, though.”
“And you certainly didn’t.” Rose looked back at him, matching the smile that he’d failed to hide. “I guess that made things less fun."
“I was having fun," he insisted.
"Is that why you're up here?"
"I’m just not much of a dancer," he joked.
“Well, I'll make you one, Thomas Shelby. Come on.” Rose said, pulling him to the centre of the room. She guided his hands to her waist before she slid her hands up to his shoulders.
“What, are you going to teach me how to waltz? Is this what they’ve got you doing in America?” Tommy sighed, shaking his head. “This is why you’ve got to stay here with us.”
Rose couldn’t answer. Instead, she stepped closer to Tommy until her ear pressed against his chest. His heart seemed to beat as fast as hers did, which pounded in her ears.
“This isn’t really dancing, Rose. We’re just standing here,” Tommy whispered. Rose laughed.
“Maybe I just wanted a hug, hmm?” Rose asked. Tommy’s hands snaked around her waist. Rose took a deep breath. “Tommy, I’ve got to tell you something.”
“It's alright," Tommy said, shaking his head. "You don't have to say it." But Rose was firm in her resolve.
“Tommy,” Rose said, her voice louder now. A tear slid down her cheek. “I'm leaving tomorrow morning. I'm going back to America."
Tommy was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his eyes never leaving her face. His hand trembled ever so slightly against her cheek.
"I know," he said simply. Rose frowned.
"Did Ada tell you?"
"No, Rose. No one told me. I'm not stupid," Tommy smiled. "I've known for a while."
"Then why didn't you say anything?"
"Just thought there must've been a reason you didn't tell me. It was nice pretending for a while, too."
Rose sighed, shaking her head. "Thomas Shelby, I don't know what to do with you."
"Can I admit something now?"
"What? Are you going to America, too? Or maybe you're going to Scotland, be a right proper Scotsman-"
"I love you." As the words left Tommy's lips, Rose felt the air rush from her lungs, her heart slowing to an imperceptible rhythm. Then, her breath quickened, heat rising to her face. Tommy shifted, cupping both sides of her face now. "I fuckin' love you, Rose. Isn't that fucking stupid? You're leaving and I still love you."
"It is stupid," Rose said, laughing through her tears.
"I know! I fucking know it is."
"Do you want to know something even more stupid?" she whispered.
"What?"
"I love you, too. So much. So very much."
“Yeah?” Tommy leaned down, his lips brushing against hers. “I fuckin’ knew it.”
Time seemed to stop as their lips collided; Rose felt as though her heart might burst. His hands ghosted over the buttons of her blouse before the buttons were plucked and fabric was sliding down her shoulders.
“Do you want this?” Tommy whispered against her lips. Rose nodded eagerly.
“I do. More than anything.”
And so, with the muffled sounds of music below them, the two sank into the bed in a world that, for one just a moment, felt perfect and everlasting.
An hour had passed. Rose’s head leaned on Tommy’s bare chest as he sat up against the wall, rubbing gentle circles into her back. He breathed slowly and deeply, his eyes trained on the view of the night sky out of the window.
“I don't want to leave," Rose mumbled. Tommy sighed.
"I know. Me too."
Rose sat up suddenly, turning to face him with the blanket clutched to her chest.
“Maybe I’ll come back,” Rose said. “You can’t know that I won’t.”
“You won’t come back if you know what’s good for you.” Tommy leaned forward. “So don’t come back. Go be happy in America. Because you won’t be happy if you stick around here.” He reached out, wiping the tears away from her freckled cheeks.
“How do you know that? I honestly hate it there.” Rose shook her head, looking down. In a second, Tommy embraced her, pulling her back down to the bed. His hand rested on the back of her head.
“You'll tire yourself out with all this crying.” It was hard to ignore the strain in his voice.
Rose nodded slightly, pressing her cheek against his chest. “Alright.” She paused. “So what if we run away?"
Tommy laughed. "And do what?"
"I don't know. We can get married. You'll go to work and I'll raise our eight little blue-eyed Shelby children."
"Eight?" Tommy asked incredulously with a laugh. "We'll have to be rich."
"We will be if we're together," she mumbled. Tommy smiled, closing his eyes in the dark.
"You're right. How could I argue with that."
They continued to talk about their plans of running away until the sun began to rise, and sleep finally pulled Rose's lids shut. It was a silly dream for them to have, but a dream nonetheless. As she slept, Tommy's hands continued to roll waves over her bare skin. It was a dream for him, too, but sleep did not come so easily.
When Rose awoke, she'd been dressed in her nightgown, and Polly stood at her bedside with a disapproving frown.
“Come on, young lady, your aunt’s going to be here soon to fetch you,” Polly said with a huff as she pulled the curtains open. Rose sat up, looking around the room. “He’s already left. You two aren’t as sneaky as you think you are. Just be glad I’m not telling your aunt. She'd hit the roof if she knew what I'd been letting you get away with."
“Sorry, Polly,” Rose breathed, shuffling nervously out of bed. She reached under the bed for her half-packed suitcase. “Will he be back?”
“Don’t know. The others are here, though. Wanted to see you off. Now finish your packing!"
After Polly left, Rose dressed and combed her hair, her heart pounding in her chest. Why had he left? It did no use to wonder, she knew, but she couldn’t help but worry. She descended down the stairs, packed bag in hand, before Ada pulled her into a hug at the bottom of the steps.
“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Ada whispered. Rose nodded weakly.
“I know.” She glanced around the foyer. Tommy was noticeably absent. “Do you know where Tommy is?”
“Ugh, you know him. Said he had something to take care of.”
“Right.” Rose stepped towards the door, where her aunt waited alongside Polly. Her aunt reached out, taking Rose's bag from her.
“Ready to go home?” she asked her. Rose felt her stomach twist. She nodded slightly.
“Yes,” she breathed.
The Shelby siblings followed them to their carriage, voicing their sorrow loudly enough to attract the attention of several neighbours. Rose, however, was silent, a million thoughts racing through her head. As she scanned her surroundings, she spotted Tommy, sitting on the roof of Polly’s home. It was like the first time she left. He couldn’t see her off, not officially. Then it would be too real for him.
Tommy raised a hand, his face solemn and pale beneath the Birmingham clouds and smoke. Rose only nodded to him, then turned her face away. She couldn't bear to look any longer. With a few final goodbyes, the carriage departed from Polly’s front yard, and took Rose far away from Small Heath. Far away from the boy she loved.
Over ten years later, Rose Abottsford found herself back in Small Heath.