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Arthur was a hollow man. Rowan watched from the staircase as Tommy explained they were going to care for the boy's mother, with Arthur staring into an empty space. He appeared just as soul shattered as he was when he returned from France, and Tommy knew that look in his eye all too well. Arthur's mind was drowning in an ocean of his own thoughts, and all he could hear was the sound of bones cracking muffled through his ear drums.
"My head's like a fucking boat Tommy." Arthur solemnly spoke, his broken gaze never moving.
Rowan wanted to rush over and hold him, let him weep in her arms for hours upon hours. But Tommy wouldn't allow it. Tommy never allowed anyone to feel any sense of emotion other than himself.
"Full of heavy cargo, like coal or iron. Sometimes it slips to one end." Arthur continued.
Tommy refused to look at his brother and instead stared out of the window, much to Rowan's anger.
"And the boat tips. I can feel it slipping. I can feel the boat tipping." Arthur spoke gravely. "But there ain't nothing I can do about it. It's like my head's this big fucking barge. And it drifts, in and out, and in and out."
Arthur clutched at the sweaty and unwashed hair upon his head as he struggled to retain his tears. It broke Rowan, seeing him like this. She stood from her seat on the stairs, and slowly walked down to the bottom of the staircase, leaning on the bannister with her arms folded.
"We've been home a long time Arthur." Tommy interjected his soliloquy. "I thought you were alright."
Rowan watched as Arthur stuttered over his letters, desperate to make a plea for help that would fall only of his brother's selfishly deaf ears.
"I-I don't think I am, Tom." Arthur admitted. "Take this fucking thing away."
A revolver was drawn from Arthur's waistcoat and thrown onto Polly's neatly crocheted cloth that sat upon her coffee table.
Tommy sighed and shook his head as he heard the sound of the dull metal collide with the wood of the table.
"Just fuck off Arthur." He breathed deeply. "Do you know what? I've had enough. I've fucking had enough."
"Are you deficient in the fucking head?" Rowan spat as Tommy stalked over to Arthur, towering over the vulnerable man who was cowering in his chair.
"Shut up Rowan, this doesn't fucking concern you." Tommy snapped at her before spitting more venom into Arthur's face. "Supposed to treat you like a fucking kid, eh? Keep you away from guns and ropes, is that it? You think I haven't got enough on?" Tommy screeched into his brother's face.
"Stop it." Arthur pleaded, his voice low.
"The war is done."
"Stop it."
"Shut the door on it."
"Stop it."
"Shut the door on it like I did."
Rowan watched the two men bicker, her heart breaking more and more as she saw Arthur in his most desolate state begging his brother to stop tormenting him. She wanted to speak up, but she knew that hell and all it's fury would be the consequence.
Arthur had Tommy pinned against the fire place, bellowing into his face how he wasn't the same as Tommy.
"I am not fucking you, everyone fucking knows it!" Arthur's voice was coarse as he shook Tommy by the shoulders.
Tommy was silent for a moment. He held Arthur's face up to the scratched and dirtied mirror, forcing him to see his own reflection.
"Take a long, hard, fucking looking at yourself." Tommy told him, before pushing him back into his seat and straightening himself up.
Tommy instantly headed for the doorway, but was intercepted by a manicured hand latching onto his forearm.
"Don't you fucking dare Thomas." Rowan pulled him towards her so she could finally stare him in the eye. "Don't do this again. Don't set fire to the world around you before leaving everyone else to dampen the flames and watch the embers burn."
"Let go of me." Tommy ordered. "Now."
"Look what you've fucking done. Again. Not everyone works in the same way as you Thomas, not everyone grieves in the same way. No one is as mentally perfect in the brain as you fucking are." Rowan screamed and shoved his chest.
Tommy grappled her by the neck and pinned her against the door of the under stairs cupboard.
"One more word out of you, and I'll rat you out to that charming father of yours." Tommy whispered, his whisky and cigarette scented breath like fire upon her skin.
"Let go of me." She firmly instructed, making sure she didn't come across as begging or in need of help.
"Now fuck off, and tell your boyfriend to man the fuck up." Tommy shoved her against the wooden panel of wall before letting her go.
Her neck throbbed, and her hand stroked the skin which was slowly turning purple with bruising. Arthur was still slumped in his chair, not aware of what had gone on behind his back.
Tommy emptied Arthur's gun of any bullets before dropping it back on the table. He then grabbed the whisky bottle on the table and threw it into the fire, the flames igniting and illuminating the room before he vanished out of the door.
Anger still flowed through her veins, and Rowan chased him down the street without even second guessing.
"God forbid I hope you never struggle Tom. I hope you never have to feel what he's feeling inside his mind." She seethed into his ear and walked alongside him.
"Did you not hear me?" Tommy asked before bending down and shouting into her ear, causing her to flinch. "Get out of my fucking sight!"
She let him walk away. She knew that there was no point ever trying to fight Thomas, as he was far too blind to other people's problems. Rowan turned slowly, walking back to give her enough time to subside her anger before she had to deal with Arthur.
When she got inside the house, whatever she expected to see, the reality was so much worse. Arthur had kicked over the table and all of its contents, and was sat hunched over in front of the blazing fire.
It was the sound that hurt the most. Arthur sounded like a wounded young animal crying out for its mother in its last moments. She'd never heard him make any noise similar before, and she had never seen him cry so hard.
Rowan carefully knelt down next to him and wrapped her arm around his neck, his head colliding with her shoulder as he wailed.
"It's just you and I darling." She whispered into his ear.
Arthur cried for hours. Every time he seemed to have calmed down, a singular split second thought would set him off again. It was light outside when he fought with Tommy, but by the time he was finally silent and asleep on the floor with his head in her lap, it was dark.
Without wanting to wake him and set him off again, Rowan was desperate to use the toilet. He was snoring so lightly and looked so peaceful that she hadn't dared moved him for well over half an hour. Deciding it had become too much, she attempted to move his head as gently as possible and place it under one of Polly's beautifully upholstered cushions.
Arthur stirred ever so slightly, and the childlike innocence and desperation of his words melted her heart as he clasped her hand with his.
"Please don't go. Stay."
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a/n: this is easily my favourite scene i peaky blinders, paul anderson needs so much credit for his acting because it is PERFECT x