Forbidden Desires

Part 1

Warning: Symptoms of PTSD, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Self-Harm, Prostitution, Violence, Fluff, Mild Smut, Drug & Alcohol Abuse

Summary:

This plays after Grace's death but before Tommy becomes a politician. Lizzie is pregnant with Tommy's child, so it is somewhere around season four.

In this fic, Tommy suffers from episodes of PTSD and so does the reader, resulting from trauma and abuse. They will help and save each other without realising that their connection is much stronger than they could have anticipated.

There will be love, fluff and smut as well as a highly taboo relationship.

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

His Pain: Tommy's POV

"If only you could change" were the words engraved in his thoughts until the cold finally woke him. Not the frigid-temperature kind, but the kind of cold that sends shivers down one's spine, rattling their bones and it is this kind of cold that is embedded in his very being.

It is a cruel kind of cold, the lonely kind and it has gotten worse over the past two years, ever since his wife was shot and died in his arms. She was a beautiful woman who he had loved with all of his heart and, now that she was gone, his pain had returned.

It felt like the sharp pressing of metal against one's flesh, burying deeper and deeper and it felt different and yet the same every night.

Night? No, it did not just happen at night now anymore. It happened during the day too. Almost every day and every time that business was not on his mind. Business was what kept him going but, often, it was not enough.

There was not enough to do these days now that Tommy had built his empire and wealth and the wealth of his family. He no longer had a mission or purpose to fulfill and this was exactly what made his episodes and hallucinations so much worse.

Sometimes he imagined the shovels in France scarping away the wall paper inside his bedroom or bombs going off by his side whereas, at other times, he saw her. His late wife, Grace, with a bullet lodged in her chest, bleeding to death as he held on to her.

She even spoke to him these days, blaming him for her death and begging him to join her in the afterlife. But he did not. For Tommy, there was not yet a way out. He had a son to worry about and, just recently, Lizzie informed him that, soon, he would become a father yet again, for the second time around.

Tommy often remembered the times when, once, he had it all. He had both, love and wealth. But now that love was gone, life seemed more meaningless to him and it was the drugs and alcohol which helped him forget his pain and grief and now and then. Occasionally, whores helped him too but sex wasn't quite enough either without love. It was more like a sport for him now, one he soon grew tired of.

Tommy had not slept dreamlessly, without fear and without waking to fresh pains, in years and this is exactly what happened tonight when the clock struck ten.

Following some booze and a few drops of opium, he went to sleep early, around five o'clock in the afternoon after having arrived back home from America where, as usual, Tommy had business matters to attend to.

He was jetlagged and hungover, killing his intrusive thoughts with whiskey yet again. Coupled with drugs, it usually helped but it never lasted long until agony returned in it's fullest form, betraying him and his sense of security.

Attempts to slow his now laboured breathing, to still the small tremors of fear racking his aching body, were futile now again and it is then, by means of his shivering, that Tommy noticed the borderline painful press of sharp metal against his tongue.