TROUBLE ━━━━━━━
(shelby sister!oc x peaky blinders)
Peaky Blinders, season one - six
━━━━━━━
IN WHICH, Clara Shelby must
come to terms with the fact
that life is changing for her
and her ragtag family.
( extended summary inside )
━━━...
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☆
CLARA SHELBY HAD WALKED THE GRAVELLY ROAD of Watery Lane many times in her life. She'd walked it late at night, early in the morning, every day since she was little. She'd walked the streets proudly, proud of her steady gait and her family name, yet not once had she staggered down the path, completely soaked in another person's blood, covered in bruises and littered with cuts. Every breath seemed to drag more and more nausea from the pit of her stomach.
She hadn't slept, (as if she ever could after the night she'd experienced), instead she had opted to stay curled up and to continue staring at the canal ahead of her, hoping and praying that barges would not come crawling down the canal.
The pain was persistently shooting up her body like a fire burning through her veins. She cringed as it exploded in her head with blinding whiteness. It made her dizzy, it made her reel.
As the sun rose and the cloud cover rolled in over the city of Birmingham, Clara forced herself to her feet, her shaky limbs dragging herself along the canal to get to Watery Lane.
She was limping, the gait that was smooth only last night was faltering and uneven. Her hair was ragged and unkempt, loose strands of her brown locks fell over her features, which were contorted with effort. The stones dug into her feet through her socks, her boots long discarded with the man's body. It felt torturous for her to move, but she aimed to keep her movements small and steady, unwilling to give up this time.
The scarce people that walked the streets stared and watched as she gritted her teeth and pulled herself along the road. The crusted blood from the night left her as a sight to see and a budding topic of gossip. Clara tiredly slumped against the door of six Watery Lane, her hand fumbling with the handle before she fell inside. She sluggishly caught herself on the wallpapered wall, her head spinning and her vision spotting black.
"Hello?" She whispered, her throat raw. "Pol? Tommy?" She croaked, calling out for anyone. Her tears welled up again at the thought of being alone in the house. "Finn? Arthur?...John? Please?"
She could hear footsteps above and she held back a cry of pure relief. She wasn't alone. The man was halfway down the stairs before he froze at the sight of the girl. Tommy dropped his hands to his side and with only a fraction of a second hesitation, he ran over to her, careful not to tread on her feet with his heavy boots. Silently she tumbled, giving him barely enough time to shoot out his callused hands. Even then her dead weight was almost too much to prevent the momentum from taking her to the ground.
Tommy hurriedly rushed her towards the couch, carrying her in his arms as if she were a small child. Blood stained through the fabric of his white shirt, but he didn't care as he held her. She allowed him to place her on the couch, his eyebrows scrunching together in worry as he sat her down.
"Clara?" His voice was frantic, gnawing into the mind. His hand was waving in front of her glazed eyes. "Clara girl, can you hear me? Hey, hey, hey, look at me, what happened?"
