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CLOUDS BLANKETED THE SKY, HIDING THE MOON AND ITS GLORY behind them. Clara sat up in bed, her eyes scanning the pages of 'Great Expectations'. It was a boring night. The house was empty leaving her with zero entertainment apart from the book she held. Her family had finally decided to leave her alone for the night. Finn had seemingly disappeared off somewhere– most likely Isaiah's, leaving six Watery Lane all to her lonesome. The girl liked having nobody fawn over her but the quiet house reminded her all too well of the night the guns were found. Every so often, her eyes would dart towards the window in fear she'd spot the police once again.

Clara had wrapped herself up in the thickest blanket she'd owned, leaning into its comfort, trying to smooth her nervous mind. The streetlights shone through the recently unbolted window. It hadn't taken Tommy long to remove the nails holding it shut, allowing for the window to open and close like normal. Her hands flicked through the end pages of Great Expectations, her eyes scanning the words without reading them.

There was a creak.

It was only a creak, but Clara straightened at the noise.

Then there came a faint tapping coming from the window.

She was going insane.

She locked her hands around her hair, bunching her hair up as she did so. "C'mon Clara, it's just the wind...just the wind." She whispered repeatedly.

The tapping came once more and Clara squeezed her eyes together before forcing herself to pry them open. The tapping was persistent, too heavy to be rain, but too light to be rocks being thrown. The girl finally moved her head to look out the window, jumping back in fright as a pale face peered through the glass.

She carefully swung her legs over the side of the bed, treading towards the window. Her shaky fingers unlatched it, pulling the window open as a body threw itself into her room.

"Took you long enough," Will grumbled, straightening his jacket as he steadied himself inside.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Clara hissed, before shutting the window and latching it shut.

"I've come to break you out!" He declared, raising his arms dramatically.

"I can't leave!"

"You're no fun, what happened to the Clara who used to sneak out and have fun?"

Although she knew his words were teasing, the girl gulped, her eyes drifting to the floor. Clara sighed, her chest slowly deflating as the boy spoke. She was silent, her teeth sinking into her lip.

"C'mon, come out and let's go dancing down by Digbeth," Will pleaded, "They have the live band out and drinks galore, c'mon, you know it sounds fun."

"Will, I–"

"Are you a Shelby or not, ey? Because I heard Shelby's were supposed to be fun!"

The boy's words stung. Even if it wasn't intentional, something about it sent painful pricks throughout her body. Clara blinked, her heart rate beginning to speed up.

"Fine...I'll go." The girl reluctantly gave in, grabbing her coat from her chair. Maybe a change of scenery was what she needed. "—but, I have to be back early.

"You're no fun at all, Shelby." Will sang, throwing his arm around her shoulder playfully. Clara stiffened, shrugging herself out of his grasp. She ignored his questioning look, while she slipped on her boots.

And that's exactly how Clara Shelby found herself leaning against the sidewall of a Digbeth pub, the deafening music from the band ringing out as she smoked a cigarette which she'd stolen from Will. Will had disappeared into the pub to get them drinks, leaving her alone. She strayed away from the intoxicated dancers as they spun in circles to the lively beat.

Clara watched as people laughed jubilantly, throwing their heads back as their arms flailed and clapped. The girl's chest was tight and suffocating. She took another puff from her cigarette as the people spun and threw themselves round and round.

"Christ, you're like the grim reaper!" Will remarked, returning with two glasses of beer, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. "Can barely see you back here!"

"That's sorta the point," she snarked, as she lowered her cigarette.

"Drink up!" The boy cheered, ignoring her attitude, handing her the glass before chugging his own.

Clara crinkled her nose, she shook her head, pushing down the urge to gag at the smell of the beverage. It all rushed back. She squeezed her eyes shut with a small gasp, doing her best to push back the memory of the man.

She was in Digbeth.

She wasn't there.

She wasn't there.

She wasn't there.

It was as if cold water filled her lungs while blood pounded behind her eyes as she thrashed inside an invisible prison.

"Hey, Shelby?... Clara?...hello?" Will's voice snapped her out of her own thoughts as he quickly grabbed the drink from her hands before she dropped it. "Woah, what the fuck's going on with you?"

"Piss off," The girl grumbled, stepping away from him, balancing the cigarette between her lips as she folded her arms. Her eyes stared ahead of her before the boy placed two fingers under her chin and forced her to look up.

"It's like you're not even here!" He spoke, as his eyes tried to meet hers. "Look, I dunno what happened or what took away 'you', but I'm here to have fun. And I want you to have fun too." Clara flicked her cigarette, the ashes falling to the floor as she took another shaky drag. "I know you, Shelby, you're not yourself. I'm here to shake whatever is balancing on your shoulders."

"Now, come on, look around!" Will continued, raising his arms. "It's just us two, we're in Digbeth, your brothers aren't here, and we have drinks and music! Now, stub out that cigarette and come on! Live a little!"

He placed the two glasses onto the floor, before plucking the cigarette from her hands and promptly stamping it out. Will grabbed her hands, dragging her out of the shadows she was hiding in, pulling her into the small square where people were dancing.

Clara gripped the boy's hand as they weaved their way into the centre. Will flashed her his notorious smile before he pushed her out, lacing his arm around her waist, spinning them to the beat of the band as they played. The orange street lamps lit up the square as more and more people joined in, their woes fading as the folk-like music picked up.

The girl was spun, her hand gripping onto Will for balance as they turned. They broke apart, as people switched partners, leaving Clara to gasp as she twirled around with another boy who couldn't have been much older than her. She switched directions with a small smile, the dancing and music upbeat and lively as everyone switched partners.

She could feel her shoulders loosen as she gave in to the fun of it all, pushing away the aches of her body and the horror lurking in her mind, burying it. Clara let out a sudden laugh, and this time it was genuine and warmth spread throughout her body. She found herself located back in front of Will, the two circling one another before joining with a small spin.

That was when Clara decided to finally let herself go for the night. Let her worries, her pain, and sorrow go. Right there, right then she was living. Nothing else seemed to matter anymore; She allowed her body to instinctively guide her anywhere it pleased. Will seemed to be ecstatic that she'd loosened up, his smile widening at every passing moment. The two spun and danced, the movements reminding Clara of the wedding she'd attended not that long ago.

The two became one with the song, with the dance and with one another, the two friends letting go of every single thing that had gone askew over the past few months. For there, in the square in Digbeth, they were the stupid kids that they were always supposed to be.

She jumped around the square, she spun, she smiled, she laughed. The music flowed through her body, the upbeat rhythm increasing her amazing mood. She was happy. It was bliss, she was happy. There was no other word for it, she was just...happy. Happier than she'd been over the last few weeks.

They continued to dance until the band finally finished with a flourish. Will grabbed her hand and she was suddenly swung backwards, dipped low with a teasing laugh from the boy. The girl's cheeks were rosy from the cold air and the dancing, as the dancer's applause for the band filled their ears. Clara couldn't help but smile, her downtrodden state forgotten amongst the shadows as Will swung his arm around her, enthusiastically whistling and clapping for the band.

"Admit it," Will grinned, as the two strode along they re-entered the streets of Small Heath. "You had fun."

Clara was silent, her teeth gnawing on her lip as she hung her head to hide her smile.

"Admit it, Shelby! I'm the best friend to ever friend!" Will boasted, shaking her shoulder with his arm.

"I did have fun," the girl finally admitted, "Thank you, Will...I mean it, thank you."

"Woah, did the Clara Shelby just thank me?"

"Shut up!" Clara whined, her body aching with every step. Tonight may not have been a good idea given her state, but she had fun, probably the most fun she'd ever had.

The two walked along the shadows, their footsteps lost amongst the sound of distant factories and pubs. She had missed this. Not just leaving the house but, spending time with her best friend. As they strolled down Barr Street, they bid one another goodbye. Clara was almost reluctant to let the boy leave her, yet she felt selfish to drag him all the way to Watery Lane. As soon as he stalked off, the girl longed to yell after him. But, she wouldn't do that. She was a Shelby. And like usual, she was expected to handle it.

The girl took a shuddered breath in before taking off in a sprint. If she had to be alone, she would damn well be sprinting back to the comfort of her home. Clara ran, her energy draining quicker than usual, her head beginning to pound. She didn't know what time it was, but she hoped that her brother had decided to stay out at The Garrison. She slipped down the alley, her head down, her fingers lightly pressing into her ears to escape all of the noise. She took a deep breath in, holding it until she was out of the alley.

Clara came to a stop on Watery Lane. The empty street was lit up with a few lamps, their glow dusting over the gravel. She hurried down the road, her hands nervously fiddling with the cuffs of her jacket, as she hid away the darkness in her mind, forbidding herself to think about it. When she finally reached the door of number six, she pulled at the handle and it swung open. She let out a sigh of relief as she slipped inside. Tommy wasn't home. Now all she had to do was go upstairs and go to bed and she was in the clear.

Clara kicked off her boots, draping her jacket onto the coat rack, slipping across the kitchen. A sudden scurry of footsteps echoed as Pol entered the kitchen. The two froze at the sight of one another. Clara's eyes widened, whilst Polly lunged forward. The woman's face held its sternness as she pulled the younger girl in for a tight hug, her hands caressing the girl's hair. Clara pulled away and it was only then that she noticed Pol's pursed lips and worried brows.

"Oh, my love...you've really done it now, haven't you?" Pol spoke, tucking a strand of hair behind the girl's ear.

Clara's face scrunched up in confusion. "What have I done?" She questioned stupidly. She looked around the empty house, her eyebrows furrowing. Pol shook her head, letting her hands fall.

"You really are trouble, aren't you, my love?...right now your brother has the entirety of the blinders out looking for you."

Clara paled, her face dropping in dread. "But why?... I was only gone for a few hours!" She defended, her hands wringing together.

"Clara, you disappeared without a trace," Pol said, she sounded as if she were holding back her anger, focusing on the health of the girl. "After what happened two weeks ago—"

"I don't want to talk about that," Clara interrupted, viciously shaking her head. She refused to let it ruin her good mood, although the good seemed to have already gone.

"Fine," Pol pursed her lips, picking up her jacket. "I'd sit here and wait for your brother to come back if I were you." The woman frowned, her hand patting the girl's head. "No more disappearing, okay? Tommy should be back soon enough."

"Y-you're leaving?" Clara tentatively stuttered.

"I have to go and put an end to the search. Good luck with your brother, my love, I'm sure you'll need it."

And with that Aunt Pol fled number six, leaving Clara alone in the dimly lit kitchen. The faint ticking of the Grand Clock sent shivers down her spine. Each tiny tick caused the girl to inwardly flinch as she prepared herself to face her brother's wrath. She felt selfish, but in a way, she couldn't bring herself to regret her actions.

Her foot jittered against the floor, her fingernails in her mouth as she gnawed at them anxiously. It seemed as if even the slightest noise had increased its volume, her foot lightly banged against the floor, the clocks ticking, the phantom creaks around the house, the rain beginning to fall outside...it was slowly beginning to creep over her. She swallowed hoping to lubricate her mouth which had run dry. Clara hung her head as she waited. She was done for. There was no avoiding it.

Clara pulled at her collar as she squeezed her eyes shut, her hands rubbing her eyes as she rested her head on the table. It was late. She knew that. Her coat only provided so much warmth and she longed to crawl into bed and engulf herself in her blanket. Her heavy eyes drooped as she waited, her leg was no longer jittering, her muscles and body adopting the aches instead of the adrenaline.

Clara didn't know how long she'd been waiting for but as soon as the front door opened, her hunched back straightened, her once tired eyes in full alert as Tommy entered the house. She watched as he silently shrugged off his wet coat and his hat. He knew she was there. There was no missing her when he walked in. The man's hair was dishevelled, his shirt sleeves rolled up as he strode into the kitchen. The girl gulped and avoided her older brother's gaze.

She was being a coward.

The room was tense, the clock still ticking in its rhythmic pace as the two lingered in silence almost daring one another to speak first. The girl's cheeks hollowed as she bit the inside of her mouth nervously. Clara wasn't going to speak up. All she wanted to do was curl up in bed.

"What were you thinking?" Tommy questioned, his fury lacing his tone. "Actually no, don't answer that...it's clear that you weren't."

Clara was silent, her heart pounding against her ribs as if trying to fulfil a thousand beats. "I—" she began.

"No. You don't get to talk." Tommy snapped, running a hand through his hair, his other hand resting on top of the chair across from her. "You had one rule—one fucking rule, you weren't to cause trouble or stir anything up, and for a while, I actually believed it worked, yet here I am again, after spending the entire fuckin' night out on those streets trying to find you."

Clara looked down at her hands, her cheeks burning as her brother spoke. It felt as if a lump had formed in the back of her throat, blocking any responses bubbling.

"Clara Shelby, are you listening to me?"

Clara's head raised slowly, shivers running down her spine as she met his furious eyes.

"I don't think you understand the severity of the situation, so let me tell you what I did tonight." The man seethed. "I come home, expecting to find you in your bedroom, which you were told to stay in and I find it empty. Not something I like to find especially after what happened less than two fuckin' weeks ago.

"Don't talk about that." Clara shakily spoke up, mentally cursing herself for not biting her tongue.

"No, we are going to talk about it, since you can't get it through your fuckin' head that you can't just do whatever you want to do."

Clara averted her eyes once more, his voice cutting through her as he spoke. "I just wanted to go outside." She muttered.

"And you couldn't wait for the morning, ey?" Tommy asked, "Of course, you couldn't, because you're Clara Shelby, who obviously has no fucking care about anything, ey?"

"That's rich coming from you!" The girl childishly lashed out, her stubborn eyes now locking onto her brother's. "Practice what you bloody preach!"

Tommy's eyes blazed with anger, "You watch it, and if you say one more thing I won't hesitate to bring out the strap." He threatened, "And I mean that this is how this is going to go. You're going to sit and you're going to fucking listen."

"TYPICAL!" Clara burst, standing to her feet. All of her fear was lost in the rage. "Always telling me to bloody listen when you refuse to. I told you...I told you I wanted to get out of the house. You ignored me."

"You got attacked as if me or Pol or even fucking John and Arthur were going to let you out."

"Give it a rest!"

"For too long, you've been doing as you pleased." Tommy hissed, keeping his voice unnervingly low in contrast to the girls. "And I warned you, I warned you what would happen to you if you kept waltzing around the place after dark and look what happened."

"Don't you dare—" Clara warned, her Shelby temper rising.

"No, I will, because it's the only way to get it through your fuckin' head!" Tommy replied, his voice growing louder. "You had me running around Birmingham with the entirety of the Peaky Blinders on the lookout for YOU. You got hurt. You killed a man, You sneak out, you deal with the consequences."

Clara didn't mean to flinch, but she did.

"You think I'm not dealing with the consequences? Ya think I live my life like nothing's happened, you're fucking wrong." She scoffed, earning a scowl from the man. "I can't bloody sleep without seeing him, I can't smell alcohol without freaking out, I can't even look at my own FUCKING hands without shaking."

She was now yelling as Tommy's jaw clenched.

"You made me stay in my room...I HAD TO REPLAY THE ENTIRETY OF THAT NIGHT OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN, SO FORGIVE ME IF I WANTED TO ESCAPE THIS BLOODY HOUSE FOR A FEW HOURS."

"Clara, sit down."

"I CAN'T EVEN BLOODY BLINK WITHOUT SEEING HIM, BUT YOU WOULDN'T KNOW THAT WOULD YOU?" Clara kicked the chair angrily as she ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "BECAUSE THE ONLY TIME WE'VE HAD A PROPER CONVERSATION WAS WHEN YOU HANDED ME A GUN. A GUN, OF ALL FUCKING THINGS?!"

"Stop screeching and sit the fuck down."

"YOU'RE SUCH A HYPOCRITE, YOU TALK ABOUT DEALING WITH MY CONSEQUENCES, YET HALF OF THE THINGS THAT HAVE HAPPENED TO ME HAVE BASICALLY BEEN YOUR BLOODY FAULT!"

Her chest rose and fell as her brother watched her rage. He was silent, waiting for her to finish. Clara stopped yelling as her body trembled in anger.

"Are you done?" He asked as the girl took in a deep breath.

"You're ridiculous!" She spat, shaking her head as she let out a coarse laugh. "I've stuck up for you so many times, but I won't back down now. I won't become a mindless, killing machine like you."

Silence fell over the two, and Clara sniffed, "I won't, I refuse to." She stated, her voice cracking as she spoke. Although she had said it to the man, it sounded as if she were trying to reassure herself.

"Sit. down." Tommy gritted, his emotionless face unwavering as the girl ran a hand through her hair. Her tears burned her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

"No," Clara boldly laughed, "No, because you have caused so much fucking trouble for the family but god forbid, I go out! You stole guns, a bunch of coppers were up our arses and every single one of us have paid for YOUR BLOODY CRIMES," Tommy sighed, squeezing his nose, only enraging the girl more.

She grabbed the vase from the centre of the kitchen table, tossing it to the floor, watching it fall and shatter into pieces, the flowers now lying limp. Pol was gonna kill her for that, but she didn't care...she didn't care. Anger curled hot and unstoppable in Clara's gut, like a blazing inferno that wanted to burn her from the inside out.

She kicked the chair she sat on once more, going on a rampage as she kicked and threw anything she could get her hands on. Tommy was now approaching her slowly as she yelled and screamed nonsensical words of anger. She threw a framed photograph to the floor, then another and another before two, strong arms latched around her waist, pulling her back.

"GET OFF! GET OFF OF ME!" She bellowed, kicking and flailing in Tommy's grip as he pulled her away from the destroyed kitchen. "GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME." Clara barely had time to process what was happening until she was roughly placed on the bottom of the stairs. She stumbled as he grabbed her shoulders, facing her upstairs.

"Up," Tommy stated angrily.

"Let go," she snapped, jerking her shoulder to rid it of his grasp.

"Walk." He ordered. Clara's nostrils flared as she stomped up the stairs. "Starting now, you're not to leave this house until I decide fit. No going out, no stables, no sweetshops, no Garrison. Your bedroom window is going to be re-bolted, and you want to go out? Fine, you're back to school starting tomorrow. No more sneaking out, no leaving the house unsupervised, and no FUCKING complaining."

Clara took a deep breath in, storming across the hall. She shook with rage as her hand gripped her door handle. "I WISH YOU NEVER BLOODY CAME BACK!" She yelled, hot tears threatened to fall as she slammed her door shut. She grabbed her chair from the corner of her room, placing it under the door handle, before sliding down the wall and onto the wooden floor.

She buried her head in her arms, half expecting her emotional dam to erupt— yet nothing came. And so she sat emotionlessly, her head between her knees as her eyes cast downwards. It was going to be a long night...maybe even a long few weeks.

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I feel I need to point out a few more things. Clara's learning to cope with a lot of things and the attack did shift a lot of her mentality. She's got a shorter fuse than usual and she's going to lash out and misbehave.

As for her going out with Will, she leaned into the distraction and willingly participated. Will wants what's best for Clara and I love him. The main thing to take away from this is that Clara is still young. She's fourteen and has a lot of aNgSt to deal with, ANYWAYS!

HOW IS EVERYONE?? Are you guys having a nice Friday?

LOVE Y'ALL AND I'LL SEE YOU NEXT WEEK! Also, Here is your chapter meme, enjoy!