The journey back to Arrow House that night was filled with a clarity Verity had not experienced in a long time; yet in the same ilk her brain was fighting to see through the haze and come to terms with what she was losing.
It was as if two lives she had lived, were at last passing like ships in the night - two strangers pausing on a stroll to acknowledge each other's existence.
Her former life with her sister - the path she was choosing to once again live, versus the new tranquil home she had set up in Castle Combe.
It seemed one of the strangers bore the sharpest of knives, waiting on bated breath to kill off the other.
The psychologist limped up the steps of Arrow House at some ungodly late hour, most of the windows encasing darkened shadows - apart from the hall and of course, that damned office.
Verity began quietly mulling over her plans, if she took her bedtime pain medication and then her morning lot tomorrow, hopefully she would be dosed up enough to make the journey south, and begin packing her things.
Deep in thought, Verity kicked off her heels (welcomely) by the large double doors and entered the breadth of the spacious hall, the hearth crackling away peaceably.
Her dainty fingertips picked off her gloves, one by one - a slowed motion in her current musing state. Her coat was draped on the wooden hanger just some inches from the door, her thinking turning to hushed outward mumbles of affirmation as she limped slowly towards the stairs.
"Where have you been?"
That low voice stirred some embedded anger deep in her gut, and Verity turned to find Tommy's watchful blue eyes set on her from a few metres away.
The blinder leant on the wooden doorframe, hands tucked unassumingly in his trouser pockets, stare holding as the psychologist's jaw stiffened tightly.
"What business is it of yours where I go?" Verity remarked tempestuously, her back straightening as she stood tall.
Her hazel eyes flickered savagely up and down the figure of the man who ruined her life.
"Last time I checked you did not own me, Thomas Shelby."
Her sharp tone caused the smallest flicker of amusement in the corner of his mouth, visible for long enough to make Verity want to stride over and slap it clean off his face.
Before she could act, the smirk dissipated and he let out a nonchalant sigh.
"Was more worried about how far you got on a dodgy ankle more than anything else," he replied with that casual manner he sometimes embodied - usually when he wanted to downplay someone else's anger.
The sharply dressed man picked the cigarette tin out from one of his trouser pockets, selecting the tobacco as he wet it along his lip steadily.
"Francis mentioned you had a call from your sister. I figured that's where you went?" He asked, igniting the potent stick between his lips as Verity watched him cautiously - planning her next move carefully.
She was very much a guarded iron fortress at this point from any of the man's advanced. She trusted Tommy just about as much as she trusted putting her head between a lion's jaws. The man was no good and she should have known it all along before she fell into his trap.
"I did." She answered bluntly, pursing her lips crossly. "And if you think I'm going to get on my knees and thank you for it, then you really better get your head out of your arse - because I don't owe you shite." She snapped, deviating from her usual polished and more eloquent language - hoping to convey her upset.
Tommy silent watched on, like he was viewing a show or a film - just studying Verity with those ice blue eyes as she held his gaze with a defiant glance.
"You did the bare minimum by making the initial contact with my sister." She was sure to let him know, swallowing the lump of animosity forming in her throat. "It was the absolute least you could do considering it was all your fault."
Her mind flickered with the images of the day Nina kicked her out, the tears and the anger at the kitchen table. How broken and lost Verity had felt; being disowned from her family.
Her hazel eyes began to glass and glisten with wet tears at the onslaught of emotions.
"Yet I get the impression you somehow want me to be grateful for it?" She started, seeing the way he stood there as always - so cocksure of himself. She wanted to see that pitiful, broken and desperate Tommy who had begged her to stay during some heated conversation.
For all it was worth, for every scar he had inflicted - she felt it was justified for him to at least not be able egotistical, unreadable dickhead.
He had broken her, she wanted to see him pay for it - and succumb to the guilt in his heart.
Yet there he stood, collected and watchful, cigarette smoking away as the pair stood in crushing silence. Like chess players, one waited for the other to make their move.
"I don't want you to thank me, Verity." Tommy replied, stoic and grounded - one at which Verity despised when she felt like this. The way he always tried to take the high ground to try and make her feel crazy for being emotional about all of this.
"I know what I did. What I ruined." He took a draw on the cigarette, the potent smell rife in Verity's nostrils. "Ultimately, I want to see you happy. That, in turn, has meant I have had to turn and face the rubble of the mess I made. Clear up the shit show I left in my wake, on that messy course I made to claim you as my own."
Steadying her feet, Verity wavered on the spot as she listened to the truth that rang in his words - unable to bring herself to say much.
"I've come to see now that there is no logical way in which I can force you to trust me." He then confessed, a surprising follow up Verity had not been expecting to hear. "See... I stopped drinking yesterday morning and already, it's like the fucking fog has cleared. I did the right thing speaking to Nina, and stopped trying to chase every illogical ending to keep you here." He blew some smoke from between his lips and looked somewhat sombrely over at Verity.
There was his prize - the broken dove he had tried so hard to keep caged. Even with her curls wet from the rain, she still radiated beauty. A beauty and innocence he knew now was just as damaged as her damned ankle.
One he knew his bloodied hands could never hold.
"You can't be mine, no matter how hard I try to keep you here. I destroyed what we had, Verity. And I will die every day over and over thinking about that."
She stood in silence, dumbfounded at the admission and honestly stunned. She was there thinking his stoic and collected nature was the usual patronising presentation, when really it was his realisation. A realisation he had apparently accepted.
"You didn't destroy it, Tommy." Verity said after some moments, a pitiful chuckle of sarcastic disbelief? "Because it was never there in the first place, really, was it?" She put forwards.
"What we had was founded on a lie. It wasn't as if you had been an honest man up until then, you had always been disingenuous." She looked sadly down at her feet momentarily, laughing to herself in some sort of state of chaotic bewilderment she had even had this conversation with him.
"You've always been screwed up, so don't sit there and berate yourself over 'us'. It was never real."
Taking a short breath, Verity made her way towards the base of the steps - head feeling light and dizzy from the conversation. There was a certain release of tension in the air, yet all the same it was clouded with confused static.
"I wanted to leave tomorrow." She said, turning on the step to face Tommy as he nodded singularly in acknowledgement.
"I will have one of my driver's on standby for you." Was all he said, the pair wrapped in some unspoken, unresolved gaze that lingered for far too long.
There was so much that could be said, paths already walked that could be traced over and over. The psychologist and the blinder could dance for hours around the flames, recollecting each painful memory until the air turned blue.
But frankly, what else was there to say? They both knew the damage was done, it was a spoken fact now that Tommy was not about to keep chasing his hope of keeping Verity here and it seemed at last the ghost of them was finally allowed to pass.
Resolutely, Verity turned and began to carefully pad up the stairs, aware of the eyes still locked onto her.
"At least say goodbye to Charlie before you go tomorrow."
The psychologist gripped the banister a little tighter, the footsteps of Tommy sounding into the office as you heard the door click shut - that bar of warm glowing light suddenly shut away, leaving her in the shadows of the stairway.
Leaving Arrow House was no difficult task; she had done it many a time before - but leaving that little boy behind?
It was like driving a stake through her heart ten times over.
-
A/N: sorry this is kind of short, but I was dying to write some Tommy and Verity interaction time.
He's finally admitted he's lost the fight, but will this really be the last they see of each other? 👀
Also I thought it would be cool to incorporate the whole S6 thing of Tommy stopping drinking into this, as it would work well in order to show he is willing to change and blah blah blah
FINAL note: I updated the playlist a couple of days ago! There's a Spotify code there so feel free to listen along as you read :)