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You sighed as you put tea on a tray and carried it towards Tommys office. It was late but you knew there was no way that he was going to come to bed anytime soon. There had been trouble recently in London so all of the Peaky boys were on high alert, causing Tommy to retreat into his office and work out logistics for his next deal.
You knocked lightly on the door and when you heard a muffled “Come in,” you opened the door, stepping into the office.
“Hi love,” you whispered, breaking the heavy silence that hung in the room to alert him to your presence.
He didn’t respond, keeping his eyes trained on all of the papers spread out in front of him, focused intently.
“I brought you some tea, if you insist on staying here instead of getting some rest you might as well be hydrated,” you continued while setting down the drink in front of him.
“Thank you,” he murmured noncommittally, as more of a reflex than anything.
You put your hands on your hips, “you can’t carry on like this Tommy, you’re gonna work yourself into the ground.”
“It’s fine Y/N,” he responded, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag, his eyes closing for a moment in relief as he felt the smoke circle his lungs.
You could see that you weren’t gonna get anywhere scolding him and instead opted for a different approach. You walked around the desk so that you were directly behind him, putting your hands on his shoulders lightly. You noticed smugly how he slightly relaxed into your touch as you began to massage his tense muscles, working out the knots that had formed as he hunched over his desk all day.
“Come on Tommy let’s get you to bed,” you murmured, leaning down and giving his temple a kiss.
You frowned at the warmth radiating from his forehead. You removed your hands from his shoulders and put a hand on the side of his head, turning his face towards yours and putting a hand on his forehead.
“Y/N,” he started to say, no doubt intending on scolding you for interrupting him and telling you about how busy he was.
“Tommy, you’re hot,” you said worriedly. As you pulled your hands back, he turned back to his paperwork, still intent on working himself to death.
“Thank you love,” Tommy said offhandedly as he had yet to catch on to your concern, thinking that you were attempting to lure him out of his office through seduction as you had been known to attempt (and succeed) in the past. However, this time he was determined to finish his paperwork.
“No Tommy, I think you have a fever” you tilted his head up so that he was looking you in the eyes. “Have you been feeling sick lately?” You questioned.
“I’m fine Y/N, don’t worry, ‘m just busy” he mumbled, trying to get back to his work.
You walked around to the side of his chair and grabbed his hand. “Oh no you don’t Thomas Shelby,” you scolded, “you’re coming up with me, let’s get you to bed.” You pulled on his hand but the man didn’t budge. Damn, he was stubborn. And heavy.
“Tommy.” You said a bit more forcefully, if you don’t get up right now I’m going to call John and Arthur to come help me move you.”
His lips quirked in the semblance of a smile “They don’t take orders from you love, I run this compan-”
His sentence got cut off by a bought of coughing that he couldn’t contain.
“I knew it,” you scoffed under your breath. “Sure,” you conceded, turning his face back towards yours and running your fingers through his hair. “But who are they more afraid of hm? You or me?”
While Tommy may have had all of Birmingham, hell all of England, in his pocket, everyone knew that you had him wrapped around your finger and therefore, what you said went. Especially when it came to Tommy’s health as his family knew that you looked after him better than he did himself.
They had been around when you had spent months getting him off Opium, helping him with the detox process. It hadn’t been pretty and it hadn’t been fun, but it was all worth it to you to see him function without it.
Tommy pursed his lips, contemplating his next move. He decided quickly that this was the one battle that he would not win. He put out his half-smoked cigarette while standing up, allowing you to lead him out of his office.
As you went upstairs, you could see clearly that he wasn’t well and cursed yourself for not recognizing sooner. As you both got to your shared room, he started undressing for bed as you busied yourself fixing the pillows and blankets for him.
After making sure he laid down, you went downstairs to grab him a glass of water. As you set it down on his nightstand he said, “Really Y/N you don’t have to make a fuss.”
You looked down, a bit frustrated with how he always put himself last, instead focusing on the business. “Well someone has to,” you snapped, looking him dead in the eyes. The man rarely ate, rarely slept, it’s not a surprise that he got sick.
He lightly coughed again and you could tell he was still trying to stifle his coughs.
You softened a bit. “Tommy, you don’t have to pretend to be tough right now it’s just me.”
He glared at you. That look had caused men all around Birmingham and London to turn and run but you were the only person in the world unaffected by that look.
“I am tough,” he deadpanned.
“Oh I know, I know Tommy,” you cooed at him softly, getting into bed with him. “I’m just saying that you don’t have to be, not all the time.”
He slowly let his eyes shut as he got comfortable.
“Thank you Y/N,” he said quietly.
You didn’t respond, instead moving closer to him and he shifted so that he was laying on your chest, snuggled close for the night.
It was rare that you got to see him like this, with his guard completely down. You relished it, happy that you could bring some comfort to the man you loved so dearly.