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"CLARA MARTHA SHELBY, get up, come on!"

The girl opened her eyes to come face to face with Aunt Pol who had ripped open her curtains leaving the sunlight to flood in. Clara sat up, rubbing the palms of her hands against her eyes. She yawned and tilted her head in confusion as her aunt rifled through her wardrobe.

"Pol, it's too early!" Clara whined, leaning against the wall tiredly.

"Come on, up you get," she instructed, ripping back the covers of the girl's bed. "We've got a wedding to go to."

"A wedding?!"

"Yes, a wedding."

"Who's getting married?"

"You'll know soon enough, now put this on." Her aunt placed an outfit on the outside of the wardrobe before leaving the room.

Clara swung her legs over the side of her bed, her feet carrying her towards the wardrobe where Pol had laid out a green dress— one that had only been worn once or twice throughout the time she'd had it. The girl was quick to throw off her nightclothes, slipping the dress over her head.

"Pol, can you tie the button?!" She called out, struggling to reach the back of her dress. The door to her room opened and someone walked in to assist the girl, their small footsteps clattering against the wooden flooring. "Thank you." Clara turned around and jumped in shock, her jaw dropping. "Oh my god...Ada?!"

The woman smiled, allowing for her sister to rush forward and hug her. "What are you doing here?!" Clara questioned, pulling back to admire her sister's nice outfit and huge stomach.

"Tommy said there was a truce," she grumbled, "Can barely walk yet I'm being dragged out." Clara laughed at her sister's words, her hand running through her messy hair. "Now, sit, Pol told me to do your hair."

"Fine," the girl rolled her eyes playfully, kneeling by her bed as her sister sat down behind her. Clara passed her the brush and Ada got to untangling her knotted hair, pinning it up quite like what she'd done for her own wedding. pins prodded and poked into her scalp causing the younger girl to flinch. "Ow! Quit tugging!"

"Stop whining." Ada huffed, pinning another strand of hair to the girl's head. "And stop squirming!"

"At this rate, we won't even make it." Pol commented, leaning against the doorframe, watching the two girls squabble.

"It's fine, she's done." Ada sighed, allowing the girl to stand up and shake out her dead legs.

"Go on and get your boots and coat on then," Pol ordered, causing Clara to rush past her. The girl bounded carefully down the stairs of number six, minding the state of her dress and hair. She slipped on her black boots, lacing them up as Pol helped Ada down the steps.

Clara stood up straight, shrugging on her grey coat as her aunt linked her arm through Ada's. "We're going to the Lee's" Polly spoke, her words pointed at Clara, who stood with her hands behind her back. "No trouble today, got it?"

"Got it." Clara nodded, rocking on her heels as her aunt opened the door. "Wait...did you say the Lee's?!" The girl got no answer as her sister and Aunt left the house. She scurried after them, avoiding the eyes that followed the three women.

The walk was surprisingly short, yet Clara's legs ached. Her curiosity was growing by the minute. Who could possibly be getting married? The three walked up a stone ramp, which the girl presumed led to the Lee's campsite. Pol led the way with Ada as they strode through the camp until a crowd of people came into view.

The girl tilted her head, pushing her legs to keep up with her aunt and sister. The two halted beside Tommy, who stood at the back of the crowd, watching the marriage. Clara came to a stop, craning her head to see the bride and groom, who knelt on cushions beside each other. The groom turned his head and for the second time that morning, the girl's jaw dropped. John glanced behind him at the crowd gathered, his eyes scanning the area.

"John's marrying a Lee?!" Clara questioned quietly, looking up at her older brother with scrunched eyebrows. Tommy hesitantly smiled and nodded, his hand patting her shoulder as Johnny Dogs began to speak.

"We're here today to join in matrimony this man and this woman..."

"You look well," Tommy said, looking at Ada, who refused to look at him. Clara stood on her tiptoes, looking to John, who had turned around with a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

"Do you John Michael Shelby take Esme Martha Lee to be your beautiful wife?" Johnny asked over the murmurs of the crowd.

"You got my invitation?" Tommy continued, looking forward.

"Grace said there's a truce," Ada responded.

"Family day. Your husband couldn't make it?"

"He's not speaking to me." The woman spitefully answered, causing the younger girl to wince. "And when he does he calls me a 'fucking Shelby' even though I'm a Thorne now."

"Thorn in my side, that's for sure."

"My God, Tommy. You admire him, don't you?"

Clara shook her head at her older siblings' words, her gaze focusing on the front. "There remains one more part of the ceremony. It's the mingling of the two bloods." Johnny explained, dragging a sharp knife along both John and Esme's palms. Clara winced and her nose scrunching. Even from her spot at the back, the two cut open palms shone a bold red.

"Where the two families become the one...family. I now pronounce you man and wife!" Johnny exclaimed while an uproar of cheers erupted. "Come on, John, kiss the bride, will ya?"

Clara smiled widely and clapped as her brother kissed his new wife. She looked to her side, noticing her brother and sister doing the same. Her smile widened even more. It was nice having the family 'reunited', things finally felt...balanced.

Before she knew it night had fallen over Small Heath and the camp had been transformed into a lavish celebration. People were drinking to their heart's content as the band played music for all to hear. People danced in an open area, being swung and twirled all over the place. From throwing up to shooting guns, it was safe to say the party was in full commence.

Clara was currently sneaking drinks from tables with some of the younger Lee's, all of them downing any alcohol in eyesight. The girl chugged down a glass of beer, allowing a Lee boy to drag her out into the dancing. The two drunkenly spun in circles. She linked her arm through his and skipped, her cheeks blazing red from the cold air. She laughed heartedly as they wove in and out of people, the two dancing back and forth.

With a sudden urge for a drink, Clara broke free from the link, making her way towards a table. Her vision spun from all the spinning, distorting everything around her. For the first time in months, all the girl could feel was the bliss of life. She gripped the table reaching for another drink when an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling it closer so she could grab it.

Clara awkwardly smiled at the boy from before, his arm lingering on her waist. She looked down at the arm shifting uncomfortably as she downed her drink. She could hear the boy trying to make conversation but, to be honest, she wasn't listening to a single word. The two watched as a batch of fireworks were set off, earning another cheer from the crowd. Clara let out a loud, amused laugh as the boy's hand began to travel down, and with a quick move, his wrist was caught in the girl's hand. Her eyebrow raised as he smiled sheepishly. Her grip grew tighter and her hand began to twist his, her wolfish grin widening as the boy's face slowly grew more and more sullen.

"Oi!" Clara dropped the boy's hand, as Tommy stopped in front of them, his finger pointed at the girl. "I thought you were under instruction not to cause any trouble?"

"There's no trouble here," Clara smiled, looking towards the boy who clutched his hand to his chest. "Is there?" The boy merely scoffed, turning on his heel and walking off to dance with another.

"See!" The girl pointed, "No trouble here at all!"

Tommy rolled his eyes, his hand clamping around her shoulder as she reached to grab another glass. He snatched it from her hands, draining it before she could drink it.

"No more for you tonight," he ordered, leading her away from the alcohol-laden tables.

"But, Tom...it's a wedding!"

"That I know," the man nodded, bringing her towards a table where a woman in all black sat.

"Stop being an arse!" Clara whined, slumping into the empty seat. She felt the man clip her behind her ears, as she leaned against the table. "You never let me do anything anymore, you're so boring!"

Tommy nodded at the woman sitting, while Clara huffed and placed her head on her hand, watching the people dance and clap along with the band's beat. Tommy, who sat behind the girl lit up a cigarette, his eyes tracing the crowd. Her hand inched towards a glass of champagne before it was slapped away by her brother. The girl scowled and pulled her hand back. Through the crowd, Clara's eyes landed on Ada who was being spun by a Lee boy. Pol weaved through the dancers, lightly pressing her hand against Clara's cheek in greeting before moving to speak to Tommy.

"You should tell Ada to slow down," The woman spoke, glancing at the man.

"You think she'll listen to me?" Tommy scoffed,

"I tried to stop her but she's been drinking. She's been stuck in that little basement for weeks. What do we expect? She's going off like a firecracker." The woman tutted, watching as Ada spun dangerously fast. "Oh, Christ, Tommy, please..."

The man sighed and stubbed out his cigarette, standing to his feet, cautiously approaching the dancing woman.

"Enough now. Come on. Enough." Tommy started, trying to usher the girl away from the dance floor. "All right, Ada, come on, have a rest, sit down."

"Come and look, Esme. Come and look at the family you've joined." She yelled, pushing Tommy away, while Pol rushed to her side. Clara stood up, watching as Ada continued to scream. "Come and look at the man who runs it. Chooses his brother's wives for them. He hunts his own sister down like a rat and he tries to kill his own brother-in-law!"

"Ada, that's enough," Arthur spoke up.

"And now he won't even let me have a fucking dance. Not even at a fucking wedding!"

"Sit her down," John ordered, his temper rising as his sister continued to stir up a fuss. Clara crept towards her family, her eyes glancing around as people stared and watched.

"Calm down, Ada. Ada, calm down." Pol soothed, as Ada panted and groaned. "Holy shit! Water..."

"Not now, Ada." Arthur boomed, "Bloody hell, you do pick your times!" Clara reached out and promptly smacked her drunk, older brother, following Pol and Ada as Tommy helped usher them out of the campsite.

Clara watched Pol help Ada into Tommy's car and as they sped off, she felt a hand clamp down on her shoulder. Looking up, John had gestured to his car, where Esme and Arthur had already been seated. The girl ran, her dress getting various splatters of mud on it as she jumped into the backseat beside Arthur.

Clara's chest rose and fell rapidly as John entered the car, she tapped Esme's shoulder before sticking out her hand. "Welcome to the family." She grinned, watching as Esme tentatively shook the hand.

John pulled out of the campsite at a rapid, jittery pace, sending the girl flying back against her seat. "Christ almighty!" She swore, clutching the side of the car for support. "Do you even know how to drive, John?!"

"It's just a new car," he grumbled, revving the engine. The girl looked up in disbelief, her grip growing tighter.

The car skittered to a stop as they pulled into the Shelby garage.

"Stop, Stop, stop!" Arthur called out, as the entire car shook. "Slow her up, nice and easy!"

"Story of your fuckin' life, Arthur," John retorted. Clara scrambled out of the car, half tempted to fall to her knees and kiss the gravelly road.

"Nice car, John," Tommy remarked, "How's she run?"

"Yeah, Beautiful, really smooth."

"Smooth, my arse." Clara quietly grumbled, straightening up.

"Your sister's about to give birth and you're talking about a bloody car?" Aunt Pol interrupted from the doorway as she helped Esme inside. Clara lingered, her eyes flitting from the damned car straight from hell to her brothers and Aunt.

"Not much us men can do now, Pol," Tommy answered, dropping his finished cigarette to the floor.

"Except go get drunk." Arthur grinned.

"Right, come on." Tommy gestured for the boys to follow him before Pol stopped him.

"There's one man who should be here."

"You are right, Pol, Freddie should be here."

"Is that a heartbeat I hear inside that chest?" Pol questioned, her delighted smile hiding in the twitch of her lip.

"The truce lasts till sunrise. On my oath." Tommy nodded, "Tell Freddie it's safe. Right, boys, let's wet this baby's head."

"Clara, in you get," Pol ushered, spotting the girl in the corner before she rushed to get to Ada. Clara's eyes widened shooting her brothers a pleading look as they laughed at her shock.

The girl crept into the house, following the loud groans of pain echoing through the walls. She entered the room, where Ada had been sat in front of the fire, Esme beside her and Pol in front of her.

"Pol, what do I do?!" Clara questioned, approaching the two, chucking off her jacket.

"Hold back her hair, don't get in her way," her aunt instructed, looking down as Ada screamed out in pain. Clara rushed to her sister's side, awkwardly holding back her short hair, running a reassuring hand through it.

"Keep going. That's right. Push." Pol told the woman as she began to push.

"I think it might be the wrong way round," Esme spoke up, her hands gently placed on Ada's stomach. "I tended three sisters." Clara looked away as Pol looked down.

"Yeah, I think you're right." She nodded, "We should move her forward. Come on, Ada." Clara helped move her sister to her knees. "Right, come on. It's not long to go now, darling. Push. Two, three."

"C'mon, Ada, you've got this." Clara faintly added, her hand moving to rub her sister's back. Ada screeched as Pol guided the baby.

The younger girl suddenly stumbled away from the group of women as Ada let out one final scream. She could feel bile rising in her throat and before she could process it, she was throwing up into the umbrella stand by the door. Clara retched and gagged, allowing herself to heave over the stand. She didn't know if it was from witnessing the birth or from the copious amount of alcohol she'd consumed. Shakily, the girl slowly stood back up, her pale face and hollowed eyes earning a quick look from Pol as the woman began to clean off the newborn.

"Clara, leave," she nodded, and the girl didn't waste a second. Without even pausing to grab her coat, the girl rushed out into the streets of Small Heath, her stomach still churning. She wandered along the street, her head spinning as she feebly kicked at the stones. Clara stopped outside the doors to the Garrison, where she knew her brothers had gone to drink some more. Her nausea flared as she pushed open the oak doors, walking through the pub before entering the snug.

All three men looked up as the girl stumbled in, all of them trying to hide their amusement. "So...is it a boy or a girl?" Arthur finally asked while the girl slumped onto the bench.

"Dunno..." Clara feebly shrugged, "Pol kicked me out."

"And why'd she do that?" John questioned, although, they all knew from the look on his face and the look on Tommy and Arthur's.

"Threwupintheumbrellastand,"

"What was that?"

"I threw up in the bloody umbrella stand!" Clara spoke in frustration, rubbing her bleary eyes as her brothers laughed and choked in pure glee. "'s not funny, you three wouldn't last minute, it was horrible! I never wanna see that again!"

"Good," Tommy nodded, a faint grin gracing his face. "Keep that mindset." He slid his glass of whiskey towards the girl. She looked at him in confusion, her eyebrows scrunching. "Go on, then."

Clara sipped the drink, her uneasy stomach still churning. She placed it back on the table, leaning against the table with her head placed precariously on her palm.

"Was Freddie there?" Tommy questioned, his head tilted toward the girl while Arthur and John joked amongst themselves.

"Not when I left, but Pol said he'd be there." She answered, her words being cut off as Grace entered the snug. The woman placed another bucket of beer on the table, flashing a small smile to the inhabitants of the snug before retreating.

"You like her." Clara smugly remarked, her exhausted eyes scanning Tommy's face.

The older boy smiled, shaking his head as the girl blinked through her tiredness. "I think you've drunk too much tonight," he spoke, grabbing her whiskey glass, tossing it back into his own mouth. Arthur and John stood to their feet, the former's arm stretched over the latter's shoulders. The two heartily laughed, stumbling into the main bar which looked like it had been deserted. Tommy looked down at the girl, who'd begun to shiver out of both tiredness and out of the coldness of Small Heath's bitter chill.

"Rest. I'll wake you when we leave." He spoke, his hand ruffling her once neat hair.

Clara grumbled but her head was pushed down onto the table by Tommy as he got up to leave, he grabbed his coat, throwing it at her before closing the snug door behind him. The girl grabbed the coat, putting it over her shoulders like a blanket as she folded her arms on the table. She allowed the warmth of the jacket to engulf her, the dense smell of smoke and cologne, and the overall sense of familiarity lulled her to sleep as her heavy eyes finally shut.

Clara slept with her back hunched over the table, her chest rising and falling steadily as her brothers drank and celebrated out in the bar. She didn't know how long she'd been sleeping there but she found herself jolting up from the table as a loud bang echoed throughout the Garrison, yelling and shouts of protest erupting from outside. She crept towards the door, slipping her arms through the warm jacket as she slightly opened the door to look through the crack.

She tiredly rubbed her eyes as Aunt Pol yelled and rushed to attack Tommy. Clara tilted her head at her aunt's dishevelled appearance, tears brewing in her sorrowful eyes.

"Whoa! Whoa! Polly! Polly!"

"—But the police came and took his father away!" She screamed, struggling to break free from John and Arthur's hold while Tommy merely stood and watched with startled eyes.

"Don't you DARE look at me like that!" Polly shouted, shrugging off John and Arthur's hands. She suddenly spat at Tommy's feet in anger. "You liar!"

It was only then that Clara's jaded brain pieced together what her aunt was saying.

The woman stormed out of the pub, leaving a crestfallen Clara to squeeze her eyes shut. She pushed open the snug door, causing all three men to turn to her. She looked small. Swamped in Tommy's jacket, the long sleeves bunched up around her wrists, the hem reaching just above her knee.

"You told the police?" Her voice was a mere octave above a whisper but it rang around the room, causing all heads to bow at the utter betrayal the voice held. Clara didn't know whether it was the tiredness or whether it was the constant fighting, but she was sick of her family being torn apart left right and centre. "How could you do that to her?"

"Clara-"

The girl shook her head, refusing to listen to her older brother's words. "I know you're not the same Tom as before— it's been proved ten times over, but I never thought you'd be this...cruel." She locked eyes with Tommy, and this time she wouldn't back down. She couldn't imagine what pain her sister was in right now and the fact that her brother was behind it enraged her.

Clara ripped off the man's coat, tossing it to the floor before waltzing out of the Garrison and into the darkness of the night, her folded arms trying to preserve any warmth. The loud patter of footsteps followed her, yet she ignored it until an arm grabbed her shoulder. She spun around angrily, seeing both John and Arthur behind her.

"What?" She gritted, (mainly to keep her teeth from chattering). Arthur wordlessly held out his jacket as John slung an arm around her shoulders.

"Walking ya home," John sniffed, as the girl shrugged on Arthur's coat.

"Can't have ya walkin' around this late at night." Arthur huffed, rubbing his hands together, a small smile on his face.

And so they walked home, the girl sandwiched between her brother's as they reached number six. Esme was standing outside, awaiting John who grinned widely upon seeing the woman. The two were quick to leave, 'off to initiate the marriage' as Arthur had called out after them, as the girl recoiled in disgust.

Arthur had entered number six with Clara, planning to sleep on the couch, too drunk to even think about walking home. It wasn't long until his snores echoed through the house. The girl crept up the stairs, her boots clutched in hand as she slipped across the floorboards. She stopped outside of Finn's room, only remembering that he'd been sent to Isaiah Jesus' house for the duration of the night. With a small sigh, the girl closed her bedroom door, shrugging off all of her clothes.

What was meant to be a happy occasion had been foiled by tragedy. And so she sat on her bed, alone, surrounded by the empty walls of her room, the only noise being Arthur's snoring from below.

She was alone, and then, only then, did she allow a single tear to fall onto her cheek.

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So...I don't like this chapter ??? I literally don't know why.

ANYWAYS, HOLA MIS AMORES!

How are all of you this fine Friday??

I am currently listening to the entirety of Arctic Monkeys discography just bc I can. It's also Ben Barnes birthday today so happy birthday to him (BUT GODDAMN MANS IS NOW 40⁉️)

Anyways, feel free to drop a few comments and a vote, I love you all and I'll see you next Friday <33333