Gun metal and Daisies (Thomas Shelby)

Isolation is not safety.

Only priests and fools are fearless, and I've never been on the best of terms with God.

"It's Tilda! She's shaking! She's shaking real bad!"

Thomas and Charlie exchanged glances before bolting down the street. Thomas tried his best to keep the baby from jostling about too much.

When they entered the cramped walkway, they heard crying and frantic movements.

"Oh, Bubs, thank God you're here! She's got a raging fever but she's freezing to the bone."
Dorothy was trying her best to to get the girl warm, her eyes had tears building up in the corners as she desperately tried to get the girl warm, "I'm so sorry Matilda! I wish I could take you home, but it's just not safe. You'll be fine, I promise!"

By now Dorothy was humming old lullaby's that Thomas also knew. Thomas had learned it was something she did when the ringing got bad; the ringing got bad when she got stressed.

Thomas gave the baby to Theo and shrugged off his blazer, he draped his coat over the violently shaking girl who was sobbing loudly, probably at the sheer discomfort that came with these sorts of illnesses.

Before Thomas really knew what was going on, Dorothy was getting under the coats and jackets with the girl, rubbing her hands up and down the girls arms, trying to get the blood flowing.

"Bonny, what are you doing? You can't get too close, you'll get sick!" He tried pulling gently on her shoulders, trying to manoeuvre her away from the contagiously sick girl.

Thomas knew Dorothy had a poor tolerance to anything, really. He'd seen her get colds from being outside for moments and sometimes collapse from pure exhaustion. He supposed that's what living her in condition would do to a person.

It pained him badly that he had no way of helping. He couldn't make everything better, he couldn't silence the ringing or give her everything so she could have the fullness in her cheeks and the satisfied feeling of a full belly. He couldn't give that to her.

"No, Bubs! She needs to get warm, I'm not just going to sit here and do nothing!" She shrugged her shoulders out of his grasp.
She lowered her voice to a hushed whisper, "I'm not letting this girl DIE, Shelby."

Thomas stepped back. Far back. He wasn't used to her using his name, his real one. Maybe her language is what made Thomas take a step back. He supposed it was only now that the severity of the situation kicked in.

He'd seen people do this in France. Men would lie next to each other as a way to make sure the other wouldn't freeze to death in those trenches. With a huff and a sigh, Thomas turned to the other children, "okay. Until we get Matilda sorted out, you kids need to keep your distance, yeah? Can't have you getting sick either. Now where do you lot sleep?"

Theo picked up the box Tammy was sleeping in and lead Thomas to a small nook in the side of the walkway. It looked to be the remains of a living room of sorts. The front door had seemingly been taken off its hinges completely, leaving the 'living room' of sorts to just be used as a means of protection front the elements.

They had mats and cloths on the floor, the whole 'house' seemed to cave in on itself. The stairway had collapsed completely so it appeared that this was the only room they stayed in.
Thomas nodded slightly, trying to get his bearings.

The three children bundled up close to each other, Charlie took a blanket that was much too small for the three of them and draped it over Leah and Theo. He then laid down next to Leah who laid her head on Theo's shoulder. Charlie then took Leah's box and huddled it close to his body, keeping a protective arm wrapped around it.
Thomas grimaced at the sight of the children who were desperately trying to stay alive.