Thomas Shelby Fanfics

Stronger Than You Think (Part 2)

word count: 4184

setting: memories from before season 1 mainly set in season 3

smut: no

proofread: half yes

edited: half yes

notes: reader questions gender, swearing, flashbacks, ptsd, war mentions, slow??? Idk. soft, a bit of angst, gay ;) ,  i am VERY SORRY if this feels rushed i have to admit i did rush it towards the end, i didn't know how to end it *i personally have no experience with gender dysphoria so the experiences the protagonist goes through may not be accurate* ENJOY!

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Life after the war became tough for you. Once you were all healed up, Thomas sent you back home to Birmingham, to live with his family. Thanks to the nurses, you found out your older brother had been killed at the beginning of the war, and your mother had succumbed to her illness. It pained you that you didn't have a real family anymore, but the Shelby women took you in with open arms. You became closest to their aunt, Polly Grey, who ran the Shelby's betting shop while the men were away. She admired your courage and thanked you for your service. She even said you reminded her of the daughter she always wanted and told you many things about the boys before the war.

Thomas used to be such a happy, carefree young man. He loved horses, which you found was still true: you remembered how when the Prussian cavalry attacked, he made strict orders to only kill the men and not the horses. He also loved dancing. The Thomas you had met didn't laugh a lot around the other men, let alone his brothers. Then again, who would be the same after the horrors of war?

Because you were a woman and had volunteered for the war, you committed a criminal act and was threatened with prison time. The only thing that stopped you was a record-breaking fast response from Sergent Major Thomas Shelby, listing all the heroic things you had done for your country and to save men of your squadron, as well as promises of threats and disorder when he'd return. It saved you and you were thankful, but you were still seen as mentally insane. The war left you scarred, plagued by constant flashbacks of bombs and yelling, dreams flooded by thumps of pickaxes against the wall, and the smell of mud and rotten flesh swirling around your head. For a while, you were locked in a mental asylum, believed to be insane and unable to function in society.  It wasn't until they started using drugs that the lines between the war and reality became thicker, and you finally had moments of peace in dreams and life.

Eventually, Polly managed to get you back in a fragile state. She had to help you through your nightmares and get all the mud out of your head without damaging you more and would make sure you were taking your medicine daily: once in the morning, and once in the afternoon before bed. She was always happy to help you and would find many different ways to distract you. While living there, you learned about Gyspy's and their culture. You were forever thankful she was in your life.

When Thomas came back, you were in a bad state- even though the war ended, you were fighting off a flashback. Bullets and bombs were whizzing over your head, making your skin crawl. Whenever you'd hear the noises, your hands went to your hair for protection. It felt so strange to have it long- it was mid-length now but you were used to it being so short. Polly requested you kept it so long to remind you of the passage of time. In these situations, she also taught you to touch something real in the room, like a table, or pillow, and focus on that whenever you felt like you were in the mud. Heavily breathing, you stumbled forward, gripping onto a chair as you tripped over your feet. The wood felt warm and dry under your hands, not cold or dirty like the pillars in the war that'd keep the tunnels from collapsing. You let your brain focus on the dips, curves and shaved texture of the wood. Soon enough, you found your heavy breathing was the only sound in the betting shop. A soft smile found it's way on your lips. This was the first time you were able to bring yourself into reality without the assistance of another person,