Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

http://aravenamongcrows. (ask and submissions are open!!)

https://www.instagram.com/m.s.alexis/

♕

2 months later…

Sydney soared down the highway with a grin on her face beneath her helmet as the cool breeze of the late October air whipped her lightened hair against her leather covered back. She allowed her eyes to fall closed for a few seconds, focusing on nothing but the rumbling of her Ninja below her, and the roaring of the Harleys beside her.  

She reveled in the moment of pure, unadulterated peace - something that she’d known nothing of over the past few months - finally prying her eyes open once she was sure that she’d pushed her limits to the last possible second.

But the sliver of relief - of feeling like she belonged - was not snuffed out as easily as she’d become accustomed to, instead it was supplemented by the dirt path that came into view as her green eyes painfully adjusted to the sunlight that was pouring out from beyond the evergreen covered hills, getting brighter by the second. 

Her smile returned as she leant her body forward, revving her engine as her trusty street bike propelled her far ahead of the clunky Dynas that followed in her wake.

♕

Piney pulled into the circular drop-off of Charming Elementary with a groan, throwing his old Cadillac into park and heaving a sigh as he turned his aging body around to face the backseat where Ellie and Kenny were each tugging at a strap of the backpack that they shared.

“I’m holding it! I’m the man!” Kenny whined as he tried to keep his grip.

“Well I’m older!” Ellie put her entire body into the swift pull, yanking the dark blue napsack from his tiny, eight year-old hands.

“Will you two quit horsing around?” Piney scolded half-heartedly, but as he gazed upon the terrified faces of his grandchildren, guilt flooded him. His eyes fell closed and he turned back around, sorrowfully swiping his hand down his face. He could play grandpa just fine - grumpy and indifferent - but, just as he had all of those years ago, he was struggling to take on the role of a father. And the only way to rid himself of the responsibility that he had never been able to fully accept, was to avenge their mother - something that Jax had been making it damn near impossible for him to do.

Ellie shared a look with her brother, immediately releasing the strap that she’d taken into a death grip before reaching for the door handle.

“Are you picking us up, gramps?” Kenny questioned as he slid across the buttery beige leather and followed Ellie out the open door.

“I don’t know… We’ll see.” Piney sighed. He could hardly believe that he’d managed to get them to school, he couldn’t fathom the thought of getting them from school too.

“I love you.” Ellie told him sweetly as she leaned her head full of thick, long, dirty blonde hair into the window and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“See you, sweetheart.” The disgrace didn’t allow him to smile at her, and though Kenny was young, Piney could tell by the discretionary look on his face that he was onto him.

He sighed at his grandson - so wise, so much like his son . “You take care of your sister, kid. You hear me?” He told him pointedly. Someone had to.

“Okay, gramps.” Kenny gave a curt nod before taking off towards the school yard after her .

♕

Tig stood with his feet apart and his hips forward as he assumed the position along with the rest of his crew, looking down the line at Clay who lifted his gun and began firing, starting a chain reaction. He closed his eyes as he lifted his  sample weapon to do the same, but he quickly realized that, as he wielded the exact model that he had killed Donna with not three months earlier, he would need to keep his eyes open for this. He needed to see what he was shooting. He needed to be sure.

The rapid fire of gunshots piercing the autumn air was finally something that no longer sent Sydney into a PTSD induced panic. It was a feeling that - like many others - she’d missed; the spark of excitement in her nerves rather than the fearful jolt, the giddy skip in her heart rather than the dreadful sinking that she’d become a slave to in the time since she’d relocated to the small town that had flipped her entire world upside down.

The satisfactory twitch of her lips eventually turned to a smile as the rain of bullets projecting from her machine gun ripped through the target against the stacks of timber outside of the warehouse - then a grin, then, eventually, a maniacal laugh as the rush of reclamation crashed through her dormant veins.

The stoic look on Tig’s face as he fired into his own target without a single blink behind his sunglasses began to soften as he looked over at Sydney, who had turned to look at him. He shook his head with a bashful smile, only she could manage to bring even a single ray lightness to something so heavy . But even that angelic beacon couldn’t completely wash away the bleak reality of the situation - that something that used to feel so good in his hand, now felt so bad. He sucked in a deep breath as he pulled his eyes away from her perfectly healed face before it could morph into Donna’s - the dreadful sight that he knew would come even easier in the current predicament - pushing through the last rounds in the magazine until it was finally empty, not bothering to replace it with a fresh one the way that she and Jax had been eager to do.

“Sack!” He blindly hollered to the prospect, not bothering to look around and properly locate him. “New targets! Put em up, put em up!” He ordered - knowing that his demand would be obeyed by the desperate kid whether he witnessed it or not.

“So what do you think, gentleman?” Cameron squinted in the sun that was still low in the sky on the crisp, Wednesday morning - tossing Sydney an apologetic glance for the way that the common phrase had ignorantly rolled off of his tongue.

Jax nodded slowly, untellingly , his blue eyes squinting as well - but the expression had nothing to do with shielding himself from the early morning rays.

Clay bit his tongue as he watched Jax’s smug indifference in the face of the suppliers that their entire operation revolved around. “Alright, let’s talk!” He was thankful to be wearing sunglasses so that the roll of his eyes couldn’t be seen as he summoned the rest of his crew inside.

Sydney and Tig exchanged a knowing glance as they too bit their tongues - an action that their collective sensitive organs had needed to build a thick skin to endure in the few months that Jax had spent taking full advantage of the blackmail that he had on all three of them.

Tig exhaled as he began following the masses into the warehouse, but with each step that he took away from the bitter reminder of the weight of his mistake, the louder the voices in the back of his mind got. In the matter of seconds he heard himself being called every name in the book by the voices of his mother, his father, of Juliet, of Donna . 

His eyes fell shut as he turned back towards the fresh targets that Half-Sack was in the middle of trying to hang, doing the one thing that had always saved his life while simultaneously running it further into the ground - pulling the trigger.

“Okay!” Half-Sack howled when he turned around to see Tig - of course Tig was the one fucking with him. Ever since he had overstepped his boundaries with Sydney - and somehow escaped the beating of a lifetime - Tig had taken any and every opportunity that he could to assert his dominance over the shrimpy prospect who had never intended on usurping his position in the first place.

Chibs chuckled as he looked back from his kin to see Tig terrorizing his prospect; an activity that, as his sponsor, he felt a duty to partake in - lifting his own gun and firing off a few rogue rounds in the direction of the terrified kid.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!” Half-Sack yelled as he tried to shield himself against the shower of bullets lodging themselves into the piles of wood all around him, looking to Sydney who stood cackling between Tig and Chibs as they continued firing. “Tell them to stop!” He screamed until the air finally went dead around him, his eyes focusing through the dust on the two men - but only Chibs wore a playful smile. Tig’s expression was ice cold.

“Yeah, way to go!” He chose to acknowledge the cheerful man instead - the man that he was more confident wasn’t actually trying to kill him. “You’re gonna blow off my one last nut. Great sponsor.”

Sydney chuckled, shaking her head as Half-Sack zipped past them, mumbling something about how their antics weren’t funny - reaching back where her outstretched fingers eventually wrapped around Tig’s. She raised her brows and widened her eyes slightly to bring him back to earth as the cool metal of his rings pressed against the warmth of her skin. Although she couldn’t see them behind his dark shades, she knew that his eyes had softened - just as they had every other time that they’d shared this interaction since the accident.

Once everybody was inside the warehouse, they gathered around one of the long makeshift tables - a slab of wood laid across four fold out chairs - where the crates full of automatics were waiting for them.

Sydney felt her lips purse and her eyes widen in surprise once she saw them - crate, after crate, after crate. She pulled her pack of cigarettes from the pocket of her leather jacket which she wore much more comfortably in the cooler weather - quickly sliding one between her lips and sparking up before anybody could address one of the many elephants in the room. 

Normally, a fully stocked warehouse would be a good thing - but with the still present threat of ATF and a still dry market of buyers willing to work with them, it seemed like a liability. And by the looks on the faces of her fellow crew members, they felt the same.

“Russian pipeline has dried up.” Cameron explained the absence of AKs in the shipment of new guns with his head down as he wedged a screwdriver into the side of the crate and pried the top off - as if he could feel the protests that were about to come against what he was trying to pull. “Hooked up with a source out of Jabalia.” He continued as he pulled out one of the many unloaded MAC-10s and passed it to the outlaw President.

“How do these break down to ship?” Clay scowled as he lifted his sunglasses onto the top of his head. 

“They don’t.” Cameron told him with as much conviction as he could muster, not allowing himself to meet the weary eyes of his son - he needed to keep his composure. He needed to land this deal for them. “They come assembled.”

“That aint our business!” Tig shook his head incredulously.

“I know.” Cameron nodded firmly.

Sydney felt her teeth clamping down on the end of her cigarette in anticipation, threatening to snap the filter as the ongoing confrontation resurfaced. She hadn’t liked McKeevy because he hadn’t respected her, but at least he had respected her crew, and over the last few months she had lost the ability to say the same for Cameron. As conditions worsened in Ireland, he became more desperate - more greedy; offering them promises that were too good to be true and always seemed to come with a catch.   

“Where’re you going with this, Cam?” Clay raised a brow.

“True IRA’s pickin up momentum. North country’s getting hot - need to step up the cash flow, keep the anger focused.”

Sydney, Tig, and Clay weren’t the only ones who had gotten an extensive, hands-on lesson in controlling their expressions this year as Jax listened to the selfish piece of shit relay his bullshit pitch that did nothing to benefit them and everything to benefit himself - which was only made more evident by the fact that he'd found it necessary to take the extremely risky trip overseas to sell it in person.

“You want the Sons to run em?” He nodded to the bald man. He didn’t care if direct delivery was riskier, if it meant more runs - more time away from his son. If it was what Clay didn’t want, then it was what he did - and that was the power that came with being Vice President.

Edmund Hayes nodded to the man whom he was closer in age with - jumping eagerly at the glimpse of hope that Jackson Teller provided their cause. “Northern Cali, Oregon, Washington-”

“I don’t know if you heard.” Clay cut him off. “But we got outta the errand business sometime back.” He widened his eyes at Cameron who had surely been briefed by McKeevy on the extent of their predicament. “We buy wholesale, we assemble, we sell retail. End of story.”

“Yep.” Tig nodded his assurance. There was no way that he could risk going to prison the way that Clay and JT had back in the day - not now, not with his priors, not when he had Sydney . And letting her go to prison - even though she would face a much lighter sentence - wasn’t something that he was about to let happen, either.

Cameron stared hard into the deep blue eyes of the much bigger man that scared him shitless. “Come on, Clay.” He kept the smug expression on his face - the only facade that had even the slightest possibility of getting him this deal. “We both know you’ve still got an ATF target on your back. You really think it’s safe filling this space with illegal gun parts?”

“That’s what we got it for.” Sydney chimed in. 

“One tail leads them right back here.” Cameron countered.

“And one pat down finds fully assembled AR’s on half a charter of paroled members.” She scoffed in return, watching the man shrink down before Jax lifted him right back up.

“What’s the deal?” He asked, his smirk twitching as Clay’s eyes narrowed at him from across the table.

“We sell, ship, store. You load your saddlebags and deliver - charter to charter. I’ll give you twenty percent.”

Juice couldn’t hold back the snicker as he heard the joke of a deal - if it could even be called that. “We get sixty percent when we assemble our own?” Clay’s scowl deepened. 

“We carry all of the risk - all of the overhead.” Edmund was quick to counter this time. 

Cameron felt a small sense of relief. They were on the same page . “My son will be your point guy in Cali.” He nodded to Edmund. “This is a win-win, Clay.” He shifted his gaze from the stubborn and insulted President, to the much more open-minded VP - letting it linger for a second. “We’ll let you talk it through.” 

“That’s bullshit.” Chibs was the first to admit the second that they were hopefully out of earshot - but his longtime relationship with the Hayes’ gave him the family pass to trash talk them. “They’ve still got access to the Russian surplus - AKs that we need. They’re just tryin to stonewall us so we’ll play along, the Mick pricks .”

Juice shook his head with a sigh. “He’s not wrong about the feds… It doesn’t matter what dummy corp we use, or how far off the grid we are - if ATF puts a tail on any of us, we’re gonna lead em right back here.”

"It's a risk that we've always taken." Sydney shook her head.

Clay thought about his next move very carefully. “What do you think, VP?” He looked to his stepson thoughtfully, wondering if some reverse psychology might save him from another lengthy stint in Stockton State Penitentiary. 

Jax was taken aback by Clay's unexpected trust in his judgement - the judgment that he wasn’t using. He exhaled through his nostrils as he looked down at the pavement beneath his white shoes, taking a second to separate his head from his heart. “Go get the Irish.” He nodded to Juice.

“Yeah.” The eager man confirmed as he skipped out the door.

Clay wondered if his move had been the right one, keeping his hardened gaze fixed on the back wall until he finally stole a glance at his VP’s unreadable expression - something that the younger man had mastered as of late.

Sydney watched the exchange with a crease in her forehead, the dwindling end of her cigarette burning against the tips of her fingers until she finally snapped out of it - dropping the butt to the ground and grinding it under the heel of her boot. 

“You come to a decision, boys?” Cameron called from behind Juice as they re-entered the building with Edmund in tow.

Jax looked between Clay, and the Irishman. “Yeah.” He nodded, leaning against his palms on the table filled with hardware. “You get us the Russian guns that we need to keep our Oakland business intact - we run that as usual. As for all of these.” He gestured to the plethora of MAC-10s that they so desperately wanted them to take. “We use your facility to store and assemble - then we’ll run them up the coast.”

Clay stared daggers into his VP, watching as he waltzed around the side of the table until he was standing directly across from him - at the other head. 

“ But .” Jax continued, looking directly into Clay’s eyes as he spoke to Cameron. “MC Pony Express is gonna cost you thirty percent.” He crossed his arms smugly.

Edmund matched Jax’s smugness with his own as his father whispered their counter offer in his ear - but he knew that it didn’t matter what number they settled on. All that mattered was that they were going to settle.

“Twenty five.” He raised his thick brow in challenge.

“Twenty eight… And the Russian stock.”

To say that Sydney was mindblown would have been an understatement. She found herself, for the first time in months , remembering why Jax had been given that Vice President’s flash - and it wasn’t just by right of survivorship. When he was able to shove all of the bullshit aside, he was one of the smartest men that she had ever met  - not smart enough to scare her, but smart enough for her to wish that they were able to see eye to eye in a way that allowed him to set their personal differences aside, because together, they could make this charter unstoppable. 

“Okay.” Cameron appeared as reluctant as he could as he agreed to the deal that he hardly thought would land.

Sydney could tell that Clay and the others were weary - whether because of the tense atmosphere, or because of the deal itself. “It keeps us in business til the heat wears off.” She nodded her support. She needed to prove to Jax that she was just doing what she had always done - what he refused to believe she had always done; what was best for the club.

Jax looked at the conniving little blonde cautiously as she backed him - wondering what it was she was playing at, but he nodded in return, nonetheless. If he could’ve had anyone on his side in this moment that he found himself in an intense staredown with Tig and Clay - he was glad that it was Sydney.

“Call a vote, Pres .” Jax sneered through his smirk, and that was when Sydney understood what was really going on - that this wasn’t about the club at all, this was, once again, about the one thing that had always ruled the stepfather-stepson duo: power .

“All in favor?” Clay grumbled in a tone that oozed defeat - the low statement hardly coming out as a question. But he didn’t bother looking around to count the number of hands that raised behind him, keeping his disapproving eyes on Jax as he stormed off. He knew what the answer was.

♕

David Hale waltzed cautiously into the Charming Diner where he had been summoned by his brother - an occasion that, these days, has crossed over the line of rarity and into the territory of concerning. He quickly recognized the back of Jacob’s head - that thick, dark hair that was just bordering on grey. He slowly made his way over to the round booth where he sat with two men that he had never seen before, which, for a small town cop, was strange. Definitely concerning. 

“-must be very frustrating, Mr. Hale.” A grey-haired man in a suit nodded as he skimmed over a manilla folder.

“Every surrounding town from Stockton to Lodi has grown nearly seventy percent in the last two decades.”

David fought the urge to roll his eyes as he caught the end of the conversation that he’d had to endure his entire life from his father, and now from his brother.

“Except Charming.” The clean-cut man added pointedly, sliding the folder back to Jacob while his bald-headed counterpart stayed silent next to him.

Jacob Hale nodded with his eyes widening, glad that somebody finally seemed to understand what it was that he was getting at. “SAMCRO has sabotaged every major development effort that’s come through Charming - coercion and violence.”

“Easy to do when the local cops are in your pocket.” The man with a DIY buzz cut finally spoke.

“Uh huh…” David finally announced his presence, watching the eagerness of the man fade as his eyes fell to the badge that he wore proudly on his chest.

“Uh.” Jacob looked awkwardly between his little brother and his new friends. “Gentlemen, this is my kid brother, David Hale. He’ll be Chief once the year is up - things are gonna change.”

David cringed at the confident declaration of his older brother, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the tone that bled expectation - as it always had - or because if that expectation was one that he was no longer certain he could meet.

“David, I’d like you to meet Ethan Zobelle.” The sharp man stuck his hand out for a handshake. “And AJ Weston.” The man with the poorly shaved head stepped forward next.

David shook both of their hands before he eased into the booth next to his brother, his blue gaze lingering on the strange new men that he for some reason had a bad feeling about.

“Can I get ya anything, David?” A friendly voice snapped him out of the tense, one-sided stare down.

“Just coffee, Anna.” He leant back in his seat, tilting his head up towards the dark haired waitress that had been serving him almost as long as Doreen had.

“You got it.” She nodded with a smile.

“So… What’s this about, Jake?” David raised a brow.

“I reached out to your family.” Zobelle interjected. “Asked for an introduction.”

Jacob breathed a sigh of relief when he was let off the hook for having to perfectly deliver the fabricated cover to his ever-so-suspicious younger brother. “Ethan owns cigar shops.” He nodded. 

David’s brows crinkled - the explanation providing him absolutely no relevant information as to what this had to do with him or his brother. 

“Stockton, Milbrae, Alameda.” Jacob continued.

David nodded along as he tried to get a proper read on the situation, but he was getting two completely different vibes from what his brother was telling him, and what the men before him were showing him. “You planning on opening up a shop here in Charming?” He surmised as best he could, though he still felt that there had to be more than just a prospective business venture to warrant a white collar meeting with two of the town’s top political figures.

“I have my eye on a storefront.” Zobelle nodded.

“We’ll need to know that we’ve got the right support before we commit to Charming.” Weston leaned in, speaking slowly as if he was talking to a child.

“Support?” David was lost again.

“To protect our investment.”

Yet again, the two men did nothing to help him get back on track.

“We’re aware of your outlaw problem.” Zobelle clarified for the horribly confused man in front of him that, if he had the correct mindset, he could see being a perfect fit for his daughter. “Your brother has brought me up to speed on your struggle.”

David looked over at Jacob who sat frozen - like he had just been caught red-handed. “I’m guessing this isn’t about cigars…” He sighed. 

Jacob blinked a few times as he tried desperately to figure out how he could help get his brother on board with this plan - how he could make him see that this would benefit both of them. “Ethan shares a common interest.” He began carefully. 

“The Sons of Anarchy have been supplying weapons to gang members for over a decade, it’s time it stopped.” Zobelle fed the incriminating accusations to the cop who he hoped was as hungry for them as his brother had told him he would be.

David looked down at the business card that Weston was sliding across the table to him, noting the sporadically placed identifying symbols that were tattooed all over his arms that tried to hide in the white button-down that he wore with a black tie. “League of American Nationalists…” He plucked the blindingly white piece of cardstock off of the speckled surface and read it aloud as a smirk came to his face - he had been right to trust his intuition afterall.

“The League represents an influential group of businessmen who are tired of criminals undermining local enterprise.” Zobelle worded his explanation to the skeptical man as strategically as he could.

“Right…” David gave a theatrical nod. “And how many black and latino businessmen are there in your ‘influential group’?”

“Here you go, David.” Anna returned with his coffee at the perfect time - cutting the mounting tension once again as Zobelle stared at him guiltily from across the table.

“None.” Zobelle finally answered after a long pause.

“None.” David confirmed, his gaze shifting to Weston. “I know who you are - white hate.”

“Quite the opposite, Deputy Chief.” Zobelle responded calmly. “We are separatists , not supremacists.” 

Jacob jerked his neck uncomfortably as Zobelle tried to convince his irritatingly smart brother of something that he knew he couldn’t be convinced of - he was too good, too pure. 

“We are God-fearing patriots, and in a time when black radicals are in power in this country, we are desperately trying to remind our citizens of their founding beliefs.” Zobelle’s voice got louder as he fell into his commanding role as head of The League.

“That all white men are created equal?” David responded with a sarcastic smile. “What the hell do you want from me?”

“Call us what you want, we have the same goal.” Weston sneered. “Stop scumbags from arming scumbags-”

“We just want you to know that we are at your disposal if you need us.” Zobelle cut off his excited right hand before he could completely scare the deputy off.

“And why would I need you?” David raised a brow, determined to make these phony assholes state the true intentions that he was already well aware of.

Jacob began blinking rapidly as the crucial meeting went much worse than he had envisioned - he was losing both sides. “My family-” He began, stopping himself before throwing his arm around his brother. “ Our family, built this town.” He corrected. “Our great-great grandfather, his brothers. And before our old man dies, the Hale’s are going to give it back to the folks who live here.” He nodded firmly.

David felt his brother’s arm squeezing tighter around him each time that he mentioned their family - the vision that the Hale’s had always had… Every Hale except him.

“And that salvation nets you a tidy real estate profit.” Zobelle surmised - deciding to test the loyalty of the brothers that he was expected to put his trust in.

Jacob froze, dropping his arm from his brother’s shoulders and reaching for his coffee. “Progress has its rewards.” He stated curtly, bringing the mug to his lips as he stared straight ahead.

David scoffed as he realized what this was really about, pushing himself up from the table. It had been bad enough when he had realized that his brother had fallen for the model citizen act of the modern day Nazis, but to find out that he had chosen to overlook that detail solely for financial gain was what set him over the edge.

“Come on, David!” He ignored the pleas of his greedy brother who’s voice began to sound exactly like his father’s.

♕

Sydney leant against the metal wall of the warehouse, puffing lazily on a cigarette while she, Chibs, Tig, Clay, and Jax all watched Juice, Half-Sack, and the Irishmen load up their van with the dozens of crates of MAC-10s to bring to their storefront.

“Now that we’re keepin the Oakland business…” Chibs was the first to bring up another of the many elephants that had flooded their walls as of late. “Who the hell are we gonna sell guns to?” He scowled. “Niners? Mayans? Who?”

Sydney listened to the genuine confusion in his twang, but she didn’t bother looking up from where her eyes were glued to the dirt beneath her boots. It was a valid question - it was just one that she hadn’t cared to ask for herself. She was confident that she could get Laroy back on board relatively easily, and Alvarez’s loyalty seemed to lie with the highest bidder.

Tig looked to Clay as he waited for the answer that would depend on the next question that came out of his mouth. “Opie back yet?” The older man looked to Jax who was also standing with his eyes glued to the ground.

“Tomorrow.” He mumbled, still trying to figure out how the fuck they were going to manage to pull that off.

“Alright, we’ll sit down with him and figure out the move…” Clay tried to drawl out lazily, but Sydney knew that it was forced - she just hoped that Chibs didn’t.

“Yeah.” Jax spit out as he snapped his eyes back up. “We should do that.” He nodded bitterly as he brushed past his President and made his way to his bike.

Tig locked his worried eyes with Sydney’s, blinking his assurance that they would figure it out - even if he had no idea how. His hand moved to his jaw nervously as he fell back while everybody dispersed. 

“Cap.” He placed his hand on Clay’s bicep, keeping him from walking away. “Opie’s gonna want payback for Donna’s death, right? Well Jax and Piney both know it wasn’t the Niners… So you got any ideas on where the hell we’re gonna land with this?” He needed something to calm the raging anxiety that was building in his chest as he thought about being found out, about what that would mean for him - for Sydney; just as he had every single day since he’d killed that poor woman.

“Give Trammel a call.” Clay grumbled out of the side of his mouth as Jax looked back at the pair from where he had fired up his bike. “We’re gonna need some police intel…”

♕

“Davy!” David heard from behind him, wishing for the first time as he climbed into his Bronco, that it wasn’t an open top - because he had no way to drown out the desperate pleas of a greedy man.

“Do you know what those guys do?” He sneered, looking his suited brother up and down in disgust. “Since when do you smoke up with neo-Nazis?” 

“I know who they are.” Jacob nodded sincerely. “I’m not an idiot.”

David scowled. He wasn’t sure what his brother had expected to accomplish with that statement, because going into this knowingly only made it worse.

“Look, Charming is our town, Davy… Dad tried for years to get it back from SAMCRO and he couldn’t. But you and me? We can.”

“I’m not gonna swap one outlaw for another one.” Hale shook his head. He couldn’t care less about reclaiming his town from anything besides evil, and he wasn’t going to settle on a lesser of two.

“The League’s got no interest in Charming. For them, it’s all about race.”

“And that makes it okay?” David scoffed.

“Grow up, little brother!” 

David turned away, and just in the nick of time - the revving of motorcycles filled their ears, only serving to prove the point that his brother was so horribly trying to make.

♕

Tig laid back against his stiff dorm room bed as he stared at the ceiling fan, counting how many times it could make it around in a full circle before he heard Sydney’s next breath from where she slept soundly against his side while his fingers tangled in her hair. It was a tacit routine that they had fallen into over the past few months; she would stay up to comfort him throughout the night, and he would stay up while she caught up on the sleep that he robbed her of during her lunch break - the only rotation that ensured both of them at least got some rest.

“Mmmm.” He felt a smirk tugging at his lips as a grumbly moan rippled through her body, rolling over her so that his arms were wrapped around her and his chest was pressed against her back.

“What’re you dreamin about?” He whispered into her ear, pressing his lips against her neck as he hugged her tightly.

“You.” Her voice came out in a raspy chuckle before he felt her go rigid in his grasp.

Sydney felt her blood run cold as he froze behind her, now laying just as stiff as she was. “W-what time is it?” She cleared her throat as she pulled herself from his grip and reached for her phone on the nightstand where the clock read 2:52 P.M. “Gem will be needing me.” She hastily slid off of the bed and scurried into the bathroom where she straightened herself out.

“I uh.” Tig called after her. “I thought you were picking up the kids today?” 

“I am.” She told him as she moved around the room, avoiding his eyes while she gathered her things. “But I have a shoot later.”

Tig felt a jolt of familiar panic, he knew what that meant. “I won’t be home til late - gotta meet with Trammel.” He told her simply, hoping to get himself at least halfway off of the hook as they drifted into the wealth of unspoken understandings that the last few months had required them to come to.

“Okay.” She finally met his eyes as she stood in front of the door with her purse in hand.

Tig felt his heart tighten as his eyes trailed over the woman that he loved - the woman that he barely even recognized anymore. He recognized her when she smiled, or when she cracked a joke, or when the sound of her voice would lull him to sleep - but he didn’t recognize her as she stood before him with hair that had been bleached white enough that he couldn’t even call it blonde anymore, skin so heavily fake-tanned that it was almost orange, and a look of fear that he hated to know that he was the cause of. It was an expression that he had to rip his eyes away from, because it only made her face blend with Donna’s that much easier - meek, uncomfortable, terrified .

“I’ll see you later.” Sydney nodded sadly, stepping out of his dorm and closing the door on yet another question that neither of them would ask.

♕

Chapter Text

http://aravenamongcrows. (ask and submissions are open!!)

https://www.instagram.com/m.s.alexis/

♕

Gemma eyed the clock in the corner of her computer screen with a raised brow, chuckling as Sydney scurried through the office door where she had promised to help close out some end-of-day orders, with just seconds to spare. But her brow raised higher as the young girl completely avoided her playful eyes, shuffling to her desk where she put her head down in a way that she knew had nothing to do with the urgency that she’d entered the room with.

She scoffed as she continued to go ignored, returning to the paperwork that she had been filling out. “He say anything about that yet?” She asked knowingly as she scanned Sydney’s blood red, corset-style top that nearly pushed her tits up to her ears - one of her many extra revealing ensembles as of late that she knew had nothing to do with her new job, and everything to do with her old man.

Sydney felt her grip tighten around the pen in her hand as she fought off the rush of defense before she managed to remind herself that it wasn’t warranted - not against Gemma, at least. “If he did, I wouldn’t be wearing it.” She admitted begrudgingly, feeling Gemma’s sympathetic gaze lingering on her. “I thought I was better than this…” She shook her head sadly as she ran her finger down Tig's ring that still sat on her thumb.

Sydney had never been above doing what she could to get a man’s attention - years of relentlessly pestering Happy just to get some kind of reaction was a testament to that. But something about reducing herself to push-up bras and photoshoots with pornstars just so that Tig would look at her - even for a second - had her yearning for Happy’s ignorance, because at least it was what she’d always known to expect.

“Nothing more humbling than love, baby.” Gemma chuckled, trying to lighten the dreary atmosphere that accompanied the struggle of learning how to navigate a relationship through the first major club incident - the dreary atmosphere that she didn’t miss - selfishly allowing herself to feel a little extra thankful that her and Clay had gotten past that point. 

“He still not fucking you?” She questioned with a scowl when Sydney stayed silent. Surely Tig had blown his top by now. With the amount of shit that he had been harboring, she was surprised to have heard that he’d even managed to hold out the few weeks since the last time that they’d talked about it.

“Jesus Christ, Gem.” Sydney muttered.

“Well?” The Matriarch urged.

Sydney finally met her expectant eyes, slumping back in her chair. “Fucking away our problems is a thing of the past, just like you wanted.” She mused. 

“He still coming home every night?” She narrowed her eyes slightly. She was sure that she knew the answer since Sydney’s constant presence at Cara Cara and the clubhouse would’ve made his first vice nearly impossible - but she also knew by the inventory in the bar that he hadn’t returned to his second.

Sydney nodded cautiously to the concern in Gemma’s motherly tone - the only thing that had her able to sit through the invasive and humiliating conversation. “He won’t sleep without me… Even when I fall asleep on the couch, he brings me to bed with him.”

“Nightmares?” Gemma surmised easily, sad to hear that her old friend was still plagued with the awful restlessness, but once again, she greedily allowed herself to be glad that at least she still knew something about his habits.

But the selfish lock over her heart began to crack and an ache took its place as she looked over the terrified expression on Sydney’s face as she nodded once again - an expression that she’d seen far too many times in her days as the President’s wife.

“You talk about it?”

“Not really…” Sydney shrugged distantly. “He just apologizes - thanks me, tells me that he loves me.” Her somber green gaze trickled downwards.

“And is that enough for you?” She narrowed her eyes pointedly this time.

“Care to elaborate?” Sydney sighed, throwing her pen down onto her desk as the familiar frustration resurfaced. She didn’t take kindly to Gemma - or anyone, for that matter - trying to poke holes in her relationship on a good day, let alone when she was busy trying to repair the cracks in the foundation. 

Gemma stared at her for a few seconds - her mind briefly flashing back to that night at Abel’s homecoming party… That blatant defiance that Sydney had thrown in her face. “You know what I mean.” She challenged. 

“If what you’re trying to ask me is if I’m okay with the fact that my old man went from being incapable of keeping his hands off of me, to being unable to look at me for any longer than ten seconds, then no. I’m not okay with it.” She snipped. “But I love him, so if this is what he needs right now, then I’ll stick it out.” 

“And what if you can’t?”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.” She sighed, waving her hand in the air and returning to her stack of paperwork.

“Will you?” Gemma raised her brow.

Sydney ignored her penetrating gaze, along with the equally penetrating question. She knew that the older woman was just protective of the man that she’d known for decades - who she’d witnessed endure a world of pain, but there was nothing more that she could say to convince her. Like she had to with everybody else, she would just have to continue to prove it to her. 

“You want kids?”

Sydney nearly laughed at that one, now finding herself almost thankful for Gemma’s incessant badgering because it allowed her to become amused rather than insulted.

“I’ve never wanted kids.” She scoffed as she finished scribbling a VIN number onto a service sheet. “But damn… Do I want his babies.” She looked up with a grin.

“I’m serious.” Gemma’s expression didn’t let up. She needed to know how serious she was about riding this out, because if Tig hadn’t cracked under the pressure of pussy or booze, she knew that he had to be hanging by a thread - and Sydney was the only one who could keep that thread from unravelling. 

“So am I.” Sydney shrugged, trying once again to pull herself from Gemma’s narrowed eyes. 

“This is good.” She decided after some thought. “For both of you - shows him that you aren’t going anywhere.”

“And how is it good for me?” Sydney scoffed.

“Forces you two to do something other than drink and fuck.” Gemma closed with a playful smirk.

“Ouch.” Sydney winced mockingly - grateful that, despite the endless prying, Gemma never made her feel as pathetic as she thought she’d become. 

♕

Jax waltzed across the compound with a confidence that he was starting to understand Clay’s addiction to. It wasn’t the invincible smugness that often entranced freshly patched members, and it wasn’t the arrogance that came with an officer’s flash. Instead, it was a pure rush of certainty - certainty that he would get what he wanted, just as he had since the day he had found out the truth behind Donna’s death. 

“Hey, Ma. You still takin Abel to his appointment later?” He greeted his mother with the extra pep in his step that his newfound power provided him, proud to show her that he was just like his father. But the moment of pride was short lived as he looked over to see Sydney glaring at him, feeling his lip turning up at the mere sight of her.

“I’m going to get the kids.” She told Gemma with her head down and she pressed a post-it note against one of the service sheets, rushing to her stiletto clad feet and digging through her bag for her cigarettes as she brushed past him on her way out. 

Gemma sighed as she eyed her son knowingly - watching that light drain from his face as the harsh scowl set in. Now he looked just like his father.

“I see what you’re doing.” Sydney heard the venomous sneer in her ear as she strutted to her car.

“I could say the same to you.” She scoffed, stopping and turning to face him once she reached the black vehicle. “But you’re going to have to be more specific.” She squinted theatrically.

“With Opie’s kids.” Jax clarified - spitting his disgust onto the pavement next to her feet. “Taking care of them so that you don’t have to feel guilty because your piece of shit old man murdered their mother.” He seethed.

The exposed nerve in the gaping wound of Tig Trager was one that Sydney had managed to patch over in the past months, allowing her previously erratic temper that he had so heavily preyed on as an outlet for his anger after the incident, to remain at bay. 

“Or maybe…” She drawled as she dragged the red sole of her shoe through his saliva. “I just relate to a young girl who just lost her mother.” That piercing green gaze flicked up and bore a hole straight through his facade as she climbed into her vehicle with the most sinister smirk that he had ever seen.

♕

Hale strolled out of the station with Rodriguez and Eglee in tow, joining them on a field training exercise in an attempt to keep his mind clear of the interaction that he’d had with his brother. But a crease formed in his forehead as he heard the rumbling of a Harley, squinting as he peered down the street and spotted Jax making a beeline straight for him.

He sighed, avoiding the knowing glances that he got from both Mark and Eglee - this was the last thing that he needed while he was trying to get himself back on the straight and narrow after the lines had become blurred thanks to the unholy trinity that had become the bane of his existence; Stahl, Sydney, and the Sons of Anarchy.

He met Jax at the curbside where his skeptical colleagues were out of earshot, glad that at least he was meeting with somebody who was on the same page that he was trying to get himself back on. “Heard Ope’s comin back…” He greeted his former classmate awkwardly.

“Yeah. That’s why I’m here.” Jax told him, quickly standing from his bike and removing his helmet - the dreaded conversation wasn't one that he could risk being witnessed by the wrong eyes. “Look…” He began, begrudgingly allowing the regretful words that he’d pondered for the past ten weeks, to slip through his lips. “This guy’s been through enough.” He grimaced.

Hale’s brow twitched as he tried to read between the lines that were being forced on him for the second time today. “Yeah…” He agreed wearily.

“So, whoever was responsible for killing Donna - you and me can’t prove it.” The blonde man declared with as much conviction as he possibly could whilst one lied through their teeth to the one person that could actually help them. “The suspicions that we have don’t help Ope.” He told him pointedly.

Hale blinked as he realized what he was hearing - that Jax was backing down, something that he so badly wished he could judge. “Well if he asks me, I’m not going to lie to him just because I can’t prove it was Clay-”

“Run it through, man.” Jax cut him off with a sigh. “What does it get anybody? It turns Opie inside out, and he loses the only family that he’s got left.” He stopped himself, shocked as the rehearsed words rolled easily off of his tongue in a way that he almost started to believe. “It puts Clay on the attack.” He had to switch tactics - something that was more personal for the man in front of him, and less personal for the man within him. “He shits in Unser’s ear? It’s gonna blow back on you.”

Hale looked back at Mark and Eglee where they stood at his Bronco, waiting for him to do what his job was as the Deputy Chief - to guide them. “Alright.” He nodded. “I’ll protect Ope - keep my suspicions to myself. But you’ve gotta do something for me.” He watched as Jax’s jaw twitched curiously. “Unser is in bad shape. This guy should not be on the job, and he’s got another two months on his extension. After that? You’ve got to let him step down.” If he was to let everybody think that he was a follower for the rest of the year, he was going to secure his opportunity to show them that he was anything but. He was a leader.

“I’ll do what I can to make that happen.” Jax agreed reluctantly to the terms that he wouldn’t actually have to consider for at least another month, giving his new insurance policy a curt nod before taking off as quickly as he’d appeared.

♕

Sydney gasped studiously from the front seat of her car, dropping her half-smoked cigarette to the ground as Ellie and Kenny made their way across the elementary school parking lot that was littered with kids frantically searching for their mothers’ minivans. 

“Miss Eliana Winston!” She hollered at the out the open window. “Show me the outfit!” Ellie giggled as she placed her hand on her hip and strutted towards her favorite new babysitter, showing off the lilac coloured ensemble that finally fit her. “Strike a pose!” Sydney urged once Ellie reached the end of the makeshift runway, snapping a few pictures of the young girl’s hip-drop with her phone as if she was paparazzi. 

Kenny rolled his eyes at the girls as he climbed into the backseat with the heavy backpack slung over his shoulders. “Why doesn’t grandpa pick us up?” He groaned. 

“Honey.” Sydney flipped her visor down as she swiped some clear gloss over her full lips before handing the tube to Ellie who did the same. “Grandpa doesn’t even know what day it is.” She snickered, catching the sadness on the young boy’s face in the mirror as she went to flip it back up. “But.” She added hopefully, looking between both Winston children’s dismal expressions. “Dad will be home tomorrow.” She reminded them.

“Daddy!” Both kids exclaimed in unison.

Sydney smiled, relieved that she didn’t have to deal with trying to explain away Opie’s absence to his grieving children much longer. “Now.” She told them as she buckled her seatbelt. “Let's go make some cupcakes.”

♕

Gemma tiptoed down the long corridor of St.Thomas on her way to the neonatal wing, wobbling  as she balanced both herself and Abel in his carseat across the thin heels of her strappy sandals. She prayed as they approached the chapel that the baby wouldn't start crying, but as they successfully slipped past the room of worship in silence, she was met with a sinking in her heart that didn't come from a screaming infant. Instead, it came from the sight of her oldest friend, sitting in the red, velt lined room alone with his hands clasped as his head down - undoubtedly praying for release from the life that she had condemned him to.

♕

Sydney leant over her kitchen island with a grin on her face as she placed her final cupcake among the masses of orange, black, purple, and green frosted treats. “You guys are going to be the coolest kids at school tomorrow.” She chuckled as she sucked a dollop of icing off of her thumb.

“We already are.” Kenny beamed, flashing a grin that had been dyed green from the candy that he had shown more interest in eating than using to decorate.

“Oh yeah?” She chuckled.

“Yeah.” Ellie added as she too finished decorating her final cupcake. “Everyone wants to be like you and dad.”

Sydney smiled through the small ego boost, she was just glad to hear that in the small town, bullying didn’t seem to be an issue. Despite what some of the parents may have thought about the bikers, they at least taught their kids how to respect them - even if it was purely out of fear. 

“Hey!” Ellie screeched as Kenny reached over and dragged his finger through the spider web design that she had spent the last ten minutes perfecting - grabbing his arm as he tried to pull away and yanking him into an arm wrestle that she quickly won.

“No fair.” Kenny pouted. “Do over.”

Sydney grinned as they assumed the position, changing the spooky Halloween music that had been coasting through the speakers, to a soundtrack of a crowd cheering. 

“In the left corner, we have reigning champion, Eliana Winston…” She rumbled in her best narrator’s voice. “Standing at an impressive four-foot, four inches.” Ellie waved for the ‘crowd’. “And in the right corner we have Kenneth Winston, standing at a modest four-foot, one inch - but don't be fooled by his size, ladies and gentlemen! He is hungry for revenge.” Kenny rolled his eyes, not bothering to feed into their game as he leant his small body forward - ready to take his sister down.

“Shake hands, opponents.” Sydney ordered. “Ready up…” Her voice shook with anticipation as she watched their hands join. “On your marks… Get set… Go!” She hollered, watching as the power struggle began between the much bigger girl and her younger brother who was fighting as if his life depended on it - and was almost succeeding. “You remember what I taught you?” She narrowed her eyes at Ellie who she could see was struggling, almost sabotaging her own victory when she broke eye contact to look at her.

Ellie quickly remembered the technique that Sydney had shown her, locking her green eyes with her brother once again as she curled her wrist inward and pushed her arm outward - effectively slamming his against the marble.

“Oh my god! She takes him down! And the crowd goes wild!” Sydney yelled excitedly as she cheered for Ellie. “The first female champion that the International Arm Wrestling Association has ever seen!” She rounded the island and lifted Ellie’s arm in the air in victory. “Eliana Winston!”

“Whatever.” Kenny pouted, sliding out of his stool and making his way into the living room where he turned on the TV.

Sydney winked at Ellie as they shared a knowing glance. “Hey Ken, there’s a new game there if you wanna try it…” She called to the sulking young boy whose eyes instantly lit up as he raced towards the Xbox. “Come with me.” She whispered to Ellie as she led her down the hallway and into the laundry room. “I got you something…” She explained as she reached behind the washing machine, pulling out a sparkly pink backpack. 

Ellie gasped, reaching for the bag with a squeal as she began jumping up and down. She couldn’t believe it, her own backpack - one that she didn’t have to share with her brother for the first time in her life.

Sydney chuckled, but she felt her throat beginning to lock as she pondered the truth to Jax’s words, because there was a truth to them. This did ease her guilt. 

"Big girls should have their own things." She told her thoughtfully as she petted the top of her golden head.

"But... I just had my birthday..." Ellie blinked cautiously. She'd learned not to get too excited about new things - because they always got taken away eventually. "And won't Kenny be jealous?"

"I'm sure he will just be happy that he doesn't have to carry around your butterfly notebooks anymore." Sydney winked, and Ellie knew that she was right. She slipped her short arms through the straps and the smile found its way back onto her face as she ran back to the kitchen and began filling her backpack with the things that now just belonged to her.

♕

Gemma waited nervously in the hallway outside of the examination room where baby Abel had just been seen for his final follow up with the surgeon that had operated on him the day that Wendy had prematurely rejected him from her crank-riddled body. She felt her heart starting to pick up as she watched the dark haired man explaining multiple things on a clipboard to Tara, tapping her foot as she tried to focus on her grandson, and not on his test results.

“He’s perfect!” Tara exclaimed as she burst out of the room, feeling just as relieved as Gemma was.

A smile began to spread across Gemma’s face. Of course he was. “The echoes?” She blinked, needing confirmation that he was finally out of the woods.

“Clean.” Tara shook her head with an infectious giddiness. “CBC’s, CMP’s are all normal. His weight needs to come up a little, but other than that-”

“He’s still real fussy with the feedings.” Gemma sighed to the only person who she knew would understand.

“Could be the lactose… We-” Tara paused for a split-second when she saw it - the way that Gemma was looking at her; like she was a person , like she was family… “We could try soy based.” She looked back down at her clipboard.

“I don’t wanna turn him into a little vegan pussy.” Gemma joked.

Tara felt a cautious smirk tugging at her lips, peering up at the older woman through her eyelashes as she jotted down the suggestion. “He can drink it in his wifebeater onesie.” She joked back. 

“Oh.” Gemma’s brows raised in amusement. “ Dr. Funny .” She sneered. “How’s his sleep apnea?” She asked pointedly - she couldn’t let Tara get too comfortable. 

Tara sighed as she dropped her clipboard, but she didn’t meet Gemma’s pettiness with frustration or anger - she met it with a lightness.

“You’re there pretty much every night.” Gemma explained in mock-innocence.

“The times that I’m there, he’s sleeping fine.” Tara’s lips flattened into a sarcastic smile as they kept up their frenemy charade.

“Good.” Gemma nodded curtly, a trace of fascination on her lips before Tara’s brown eyes fell to the baby boy that ignited a spark behind them - a spark that had Gemma thinking that maybe she could survive in this life after all... “You on the pill?” Tara sighed as she looked back up. “Just wondering.” She clarified thoughtfully. “You got that look…” 

“The aching, empty-womb look?” Tara chuckled. 

“Somethin like that.” Gemma smiled. It was a look that, like many others, she knew all too well - the look that had inhabited her own eyes since the day that she'd laid them on JT.

Tara’s lip twitched as a theatrically inquisitive look painted itself across her face. “You think I’m using Jax to get knocked up?” She half-joked. 

“Oh, Jesus.” Gemma scoffed, grateful for the change of pace before she could dive too deep into the ache that she felt in her heart for the man that she’d loved and the son that she’d lost. “I hope not… If you’re gonna trap someone, make sure they’ve got money.” She smirked.

Tara couldn’t take it any longer - the friendly joking, the underlying advice, the complete ignorance over what had gone down before Donna’s death. “Where are you on this, Gemma?” She needed to know, once and for all. “Me and Jax.” She clarified. 

“You care what I think?” Gemma scowled as the familiar conversation began.

Tara thought for a second as the question hit her ears in the slightly higher pitched tone of voice that told her that this was a test - a test that she had failed once before. 

“Jax does.” She nodded.

Gemma tutted her tongue. She really was smarter this time… “You really want my advice?” She decided to go for the tactic that never failed her - a damning truth. 

Tara took a second to consider what she was potentially getting herself into once again, nodding cautiously. She knew that this was what she wanted - what she had always wanted.

“ Total disclosure. ” She explained the one thing that she knew Jax would never be able to give, and Tara would never be able to take - which was why they’d never worked in the first place. “The same thing that I told Syd and Tig - probably the only reason that they’re still together.” She nailed the coffin with the perfect example that she knew would hit home for the Doctor.

Tara’s brows knit curiously. “What do you mean?” She and Sydney had grown incredibly close in the months since she had decided to devote her life to becoming an old lady, but for some reason, they never talked about their old men. She knew that Sydney and Jax had their differences for whatever reasons that they so desperately tried to hide from her, but that was no excuse for her not to mention Tig? Regardless, the odd pairing had shockingly become one of the most lust-worthy couples - next to Clay and Gemma - amongst the old ladies who only wished to get to a place that they had somehow been able to reach. This had to be the key…

“It’s the only way it can work with you and him… You’re too smart, too… Neurotic to live in the vague. He needs to tell you everything. No truth? No pussy. You draw the line.”

Tara’s eyes lit up with both wonder and horror as she took in the valuable new information and processed it as best she could. “I… I’m not sure I wanna know…” She stuttered, unsure if she was trying to convince herself, or if she just wanted to hear what was coming next…

“Then this will never last.” Gemma confirmed with a nod, reaching down to the thick handle of Abel’s car seat.

“D-Did John Teller tell you everything?” She stopped her, pouring her heart into the cautious question that she knew would produce one of two reactions.

Gemma stopped dead in her tracks as the innocent question punched her right in her defective heart, turning to face Tara as she allowed the sympathy to creep in. “You love the man…” She sighed. “You learn to love the club.” She gave the first pure piece of advice under the tearful gaze of the woman so desperately and hopelessly in love with her son. “If you can do that? There’s no truth that you can’t handle.” She nodded sincerely as she walked back up to her slowly, pressing a motherly kiss against her pale cheek - pulling away and leaving her stunned.

If Tara really loved Jax as much as Gemma thought that she did - loved Abel as much as she thought that she did - then she supposed that there would never be anyone more deserving of her first pure and proper blessing. It was clear that Tara wasn’t going anywhere, and her junky scapegoat wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon, so considering that she only had one chance to ensure that her son was loved by a woman who knew how to love him, she figured it was her motherly duty to teach his old lady a thing or two about her old man.

♕

Chapter Text

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https://www.instagram.com/m.s.alexis/

♕

Gemma made her way out of the hospital with Abel in hand after the emotional and unexpected conversation with Tara, feeling a weight lifting further and further off of her chest with each step that she took towards her car.

“Wayne?” She pulled her sunglasses off of her face as she eyed Unser where he sat, hunched over on a bench.

“Gemma.” He perked up as he looked in her direction, his eyes following suit before they fell to a squint in the sun that was beginning to set earlier each day as winter approached. “The little guy doin okay?” He nodded to Abel.

“Yeah.” She nodded with a grin - still unable to believe that she could finally say that. “Gotta beef him up a little, but.” She shrugged with a chuckle that he mimicked. “How about you?” She asked in a considerately cautious tone that she was sure he was the only person to ever hear. 

Unser blinked a few times, pulling his eyes away from her knowing gaze. “Right as rain.” He scoffed casually, but his body language did not follow as he began to stutter. “This- this is just a… A follow-up.” He tried to hold his smile for as long as he could before his saddened eyes trailed towards the pavement beneath his worn boots. 

“Where’re you at with it?” She questioned in a tone that she was more familiar with - the tone that demanded the truth.

“The BCG’s are keepin it contained to my bladder…”

“I guess that’s good.” She tried to utter out optimistically - determined not to let anything ruin the good news that had been so hard to come by as of late.

“Yeah.” He nodded unconvincingly. 

“You, uh- you waitin on someone?” She looked down the empty street.

“Hale’s pickin me up.” He nodded sadly.

Gemma felt the pang in her heart for her old friend - the man whose own children didn’t even care to help him in such a crucial time of need. She looked away from him and down at Abel who was cooing happily in his car seat. “We’ll wait with ya.” She nodded with the fierce resolve that he had fallen in love with all those years ago - the only thing that could bring a smile to his face at a time like this.

♕

“Okay, but how do you make them clap like that?” Lyla whined as she stood above Sydney where she crouched low to the ground in a black pleather bikini, trying to teach her how to twerk for the thousandth time.

“I told you!” She exclaimed, springing to her feet and swiping Lyla’s drink from her hand that she surely didn’t need - she was already loose enough. She ushered her intoxicated friend off of the set, guiding her over to the cluster of chairs where various crew members were waiting for Luann’s approval. “Hold onto the railing.” She told her as she slipped the long leather trench coat from her shoulders and directed her hands to the cold metal so that she could support herself better as she learned the rhythm. “Now flex your muscles and let gravity do the rest.”

The two laughed hysterically as Lyla hopelessly tried to jerk her hips in a way that would make her cheeks do what Sydney’s did, giving up with a pout. “My ass just isn’t big enough.” She stomped her platform boot against the black, glitter speckled floor. 

“No way, I’ve seen flat girls do it online.” Sydney giggled. “Ima knows how to do it.” She perked up as the third member of their trio strutted back over after a trip to the bar. 

“What?” Ima questioned with a silly scowl as she approached her friends. 

“Twerk with a flat ass.” Sydney smirked. 

Ima rolled her eyes as moved to the other side of Lyla. “Try going slow.” She demonstrated, not bothering to ditch the drinks in her hands as she crouched down, balancing much easier without the leather pleasers that brought the other girls an extra eight inches off of the ground. “Start raising up slowly and then flick your hips.”

"Like you're riding dick." Sydney added, immediately regretful as the bitter reminder that her days of being comfortable with her sexuality were far behind her. “Flex your muscles at the last second.” She blinked, refocusing herself on the task at hand.

“Oh my god!” Lyla screeched as she copied them with some success this time, reaching for her drink from Sydney’s hand which she downed in celebration. 

“Oh, you girls.” Luann zipped passed them on her way to the director’s chair with a roll of her eyes. “Always shaking those asses around.” She slipped her glasses on as she began scrolling through the photos of the three gorgeous blondes modeling the newest bondage line.

“Awe, Lu.” Sydney mock-pouted. “You’re just jealous you aint got no ass to shake around.” She joked with a grin as she clapped her heavily tanned ass cheeks in her new boss' face, howling with laughter as Lyla cheered her on with a barrage of spanks.

“Oh, sweetie - I paid too much to get rid of my ass to afford to be jealous.” Luann shook her head with mock-sympathy, turning her attention back to the camera screen with a playful smile. “These are gorgeous, girls.” She told them with a thoughtful nod as she swiped through the montage of seductive poses that she felt could rival Playboy head-on, once again thanking the porn gods that Sydney had finally come around to her offer. “You tell Laura that she did a great job.” She looked over their heavily oiled bodies and beautifully painted faces where their cheeks were skillfully contoured and their striking eyes were surrounded by a pitch black kohl that had been smoked out to perfection.

Ima beamed under the praise. “Drink?” She passed Sydney her favorite now that everybody was officially wrapped for the night - Tequila Sunrise.

“She’s not drinking tonight.” Lyla happily swiped the drink instead, flashing the three blondes a mischievous grin.

“Since when?” Ima scoffed.

“Tig’s on business - gotta drive myself home.” Sydney frowned theatrically.

“Lu, I’m not gonna be able to make it tomorrow.” The nasally voice cut Ima off before she could come up with a solution to Sydney’s excuse - the only thing that could make her tolerant of the woman that she turned to see. 

Cheryl avoided the wandering eyes of the star trio that she had learned the hard way to stay away from, turning back to Luann whose expression didn’t make her feel much better - but it didn’t matter, she was going to go somewhere that she would be appreciated.

“Come on, Cher.” Luann sighed, throwing her glasses down into her lap. “Who the hell am I gonna find to replace you in tomorrow’s anal rain dance this last minute?” She threw her arms up in frustration. 

Sydney stifled a smirk while Ima avoided Luann’s silent plea. “I’ll do it, Lu.” Lyla sighed at the unwillingness of her friends - feeling a twinge of jealousy that they had the luxury of choosing what jobs they did and didn't do.

“Suit yourself.” Ima scoffed.

“Christmas is comin up… Piper wants the new Littlest Pet Shop clubhouse.” She gave a playful roll of her eyes to combat the sad smile on her face.

Cheryl stalked out quickly without another word once she was off the hook - glad that she didn’t have to stay and try to come up with an excuse as to why she needed her retainer back the way that some of the other girls had needed to do. 

“You know she’s going to Georgie too, right?” Ima raised her brow in Luann’s direction - always a little too eager to stir the pot.

“Do we care?” Sydney scoffed.

“She wasn’t making me any money anyways.” Luann shrugged. “But if any of you three go to Georgie - I promise you that there will be hell to pay. You hear me?”

“Yes ma'am.” Ima put her hands up in defense. “I guess you won’t be needing that then.” She swiped Lyla’s drink - the drink that was Sydney’s drink - before making her way over to join the afterparty.

Lyla chuckled as she watched Ima strut away and immediately begin flirting with the bartender who was far too generous with his pouring - but the girls certainly didn’t mind. “You sure you won’t come tomorrow night?” She turned back to Sydney with a whine - something that she was coming to realize that pornstars did a lot . “There’s still time to get matching costumes.” She added hopefully.

Sydney rolled her eyes with a smile. “Nah.” She shook her head regretfully. She had become something of a regular at Cara Cara in her last lonely few months - there was never a shortage of attention for her in the porn studio. “Bobby’s gettin’ out…” She reminded her.

“Oh yeah, that’s right.” Lyla mused playfully, still not understanding why Sydney would want to spend Halloween drinking beer with middle-aged, recently incarcerated men instead of attending an extravagant, champagne-catered costume party with her girlfriends. 

“Sounds like you’re gonna be sore, anyways.” Sydney winked.

“Don’t remind me.” Lyla scoffed, leaning in to kiss her friend on the cheek rather than hug her while their bodies were still slick with oil. “Get home safe!” She called over her shoulder as she made her way to her dressing room.

“Always do.” Sydney rolled her eyes. “Night, Lu.”

“Night, baby. You let me know if you change your mind about that locker room special!” Luann called after her.

“Yeah, yeah.” Sydney waved her off as she located her cigarettes, smiling around the white cylinder as they carried on their usual back and forth routine that she knew Luann hoped she would break, just as she had the first one.

 ♕

AJ Weston stalked through the dimly lit building, his eyes straining in disgust as he made out the variously coloured men carving out furniture during the overtime hours until he finally spotted the man that he was looking for: Ernest Darby.

Darby approached cautiously, eyeing the fellow bad man with his beady gaze. “I talked over your offer with my guys.” He told him by way of a greeting. 

“Talked over?” Weston scowled in offense, feeling much less restrained in his reaction before the like-minded man than he had in the presence of the Hales. “It’s a no-brainer.”

“See, I’m a little fuzzy about your end in this.” Darby squinted skeptically. “What exactly goes into the League’s pocket?”

“You think this is about money for us?” He scoffed.

Darby raised a brow. Of course he thought it was about money . What else would it be about?

“You got kids, Darby?”

“No.” He sighed, reluctantly feeding into whatever bullshit analogy he was about to be presented with.

“I just pulled my six-year-old out of T-ball because I found out that they were giving trophies to every boy, on every team, for simply playing the game.” He swallowed the bile rising in his throat. “Trophies should be earned. Teaching children that everyone is equal is a dangerous philosophy.” He nodded, turning towards the array of employees that worked in Darby’s shop. “But maybe you’ve lost sight of that.” He raised a brow.

Darby rolled his eyes. “Business is down thirty percent, I can’t afford the white guys.” He smiled sarcastically. 

“ Never put money before race.” Weston gave a curt nod, pulling an envelope out of his pocket. “This is $5K. It should get you operational inside of Charming.”

Darby couldn’t fight the familiar greed that sparked in his veins as he instinctively reached for the cash, laughing nervously as he realized what he was doing. “And when Clay finds out I’m dealing crank and pussy in his backyard?”

“There’s a phone number inside the envelope.” Weston nodded - knowing that he’d succeeded this time. “Call it and tell our Aryan brothers how much manpower you need - and if I were you? I would button your shirt.” He flicked the distorted swastika that sat just above Darby’s neckline.

“I got nothin to hide.” Darby told him smugly.

“It’s not about hiding.” Weston shook his head as his jaw tightened. “You haven’t earned it.”

♕

Tig rode nervously up the hill to Sydney’s house. His meeting with Trammel had gone as well as he could’ve hoped for while trying to choose an innocent man to kill in place of his mistake, but he knew that was only one of his worries for the evening. He took a deep breath, ironically hoping that he would turn onto her street and find that nobody was home so that he could just have a moment of peace before the storm. But instead, he was surprised to see that the lights were on and her car was in the driveway.

He scowled, trying not to allow himself to get too optimistic - but she was never home from Cara Cara this early. He killed his engine, slinging his helmet over the handlebars before making his way up to the front door where he unlocked it - inhaling the comforting warmth of the vanilla-scented candles that he could smell were burning.

He made his way up the stairs, a crease still in his forehead as his ears perked up at the sound of the TV coming from her bedroom. “Hey, baby.” He greeted her cheerfully as she came into view, sitting cross legged in bed with a bare face, her hair piled on top of her head, and a crossword puzzle in hand - a familiar sight that he had missed, and that flooded him with relief. Maybe she hadn’t gone after all .

“Hi, Tiggy.” She smiled, pushing her distraction aside. “How did it go?” She asked wearily.

“Okay.” Tig nodded, sliding off his heavy kutte and laying it on the stool of her vanity as he made his way into the closet for some comfier clothes - ridding himself of the constricting button-down and replacing it a black t-shirt, strolling back out in his boxers. “Had to pick the best one.” He grimaced. “Mayan with some statutory rape charges.” 

Sydney nodded slowly. “How do you feel about that?” She questioned carefully. She didn’t give a shit who answered for Donna’s death, whether they deserved it or not - but she knew that his conscience did.

“Okay.” He nodded sincerely as he made his way around to his side of the bed. He wasn’t sure if it was the facade that he’d learned to hide behind well enough that his true feelings were concealed even from himself, but it was what he felt was the truth in the moment - and it was a truth that he was able to share with her, which was a luxury that he couldn’t afford to question. 

“So, what’d you do today, angel?” He changed the subject, leaning in where he pecked her lips and turned his attention towards the TV where she was watching Breaking Bad. “Is this the new episode?” He scowled as he studied a scene that he didn’t recognize.

“Finale - I just started it. You were taking too long.” She giggled, poking him in the side.

“Well restart it!” He shook his head in mock-impatience. 

“Okay.” Sydney chuckled, reaching for the remote. “Me and the kids made Halloween cupcakes for them to take to school tomorrow.” She told him as she rewinded the first few minutes of the show.

Tig’s jaw fell open as his head swiveled dramatically towards her. “So you’re watchin the finale without me, and hidin cupcakes from me?” He exclaimed, painting a bashful blush across her cheeks. “Damn, woman.” He shook his head, turning it back towards the TV.

“I thought the cake-scented house and sprinkle-covered floor would’ve been telling enough.” She chuckled, making to get out of bed to retrieve the dessert.

“Nah, nah, nah.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her back into bed beside him. “I got it, Princess.” He told her, pressing another kiss to her lips as he jumped to his feet and trotted down the stairs with a smile on his face. He was proud of himself - this was the longest that he had been able to provide her his undivided attention before his mind began to blend her face with Donna’s, before her hair began to darken and her warm skin began to feel cold to the touch. Things were slowly but surely returning to normal.

Sydney felt a steady buzz rippling under her skin - the vibrations manifesting into full blown shivers after he had acted so normal . She tried to slow her breathing, willing herself to calm down - not to get her hopes up, but the giddy smile stayed plastered on her face as he returned holding a container full of cake.

“What happened last night?” He nodded to the TV as he shoveled a bite of chocolate cake into his mouth.

Sydney rolled her eyes with a snicker. And to think that he was getting mad at her for watching without him - he didn’t even know what happened when he did watch. “They need to up distribution because Walt wants to make more money, Skinny Pete introduced them to Tuco, Jesse got fucked up, Walt went and demanded their business.”

“That’s right.” Tig nodded along. Even if he had remembered all the details - he still would’ve asked just to hear her explain them. 

Sydney dug into the mountain of cake as well, scooping out a spoonful of vanilla instead - squealing as it crumbled off of her fork on the way to her mouth. She did her best to get it between her teeth in time, but her efforts were useless as half of it tumbled down her chest, and the other half smooshed against her nose and upper lip.

Tig grinned in amusement as she sat stunned before beginning to laugh, trying to swallow her half-bite without choking. He felt his own chest beginning to rumble with laughter, unable to stop as he fed off of her - pulling her into him where he licked the frosting off of her nose and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that lasted longer than any other kiss that they’d shared in the last three months.

Sydney felt herself getting dizzy as she reveled in the intoxicating taste of his lips - a taste that Donna’s death had deemed forbidden. She was careful not to let herself overindulge - pulling back with glossy eyes as they trailed down his relaxed form as he laid in her bed with a lazy smile.

Maybe Gemma was right. Maybe this was good for them. They’d found intimacy in places that they never even knew existed - places far beyond sex. Maybe it didn’t have to be such an awful thing - taking a break, slowing down. It didn’t have to be this horrible elephant in the room that neither of them would address but would happily take on the weight of. It would come back in time - she would bring it back in time, just like she had the smile on his face.

But the tiny piece of hope that Sydney had finally managed to finally get ahold of, shattered instantly when she heard it - moaning coming from the TV. A heat came to her cheeks as her eyes flew to the screen, but it wasn’t the coy flush that she had been brandishing since he’d gotten home, it was the scarlet mark of shame that she had been forced to wear since that fateful day in August. 

“I have to pee.” She quickly slid out of bed and into the bathroom where she slammed the door shut and covered her ears, trying desperately to drown out the sounds of the sex scene that only reminded her of everything that she was trying to forget - the frustration bringing tears to her eyes. 

Tig frowned as she practically leapt out of his arms, leaving him alone with the crushing weight of guilt that harshly came back down after so cruelly being lifted. He pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself not to put his fist through the TV screen that had ruined the bit of peace that he was stupid enough to think he was being rewarded with for his progress - clutching the pendants around his neck instead.

Though the words hadn’t been spoken, he wasn’t an idiot. He had noticed that his inabilities to get over the incident were affecting her by the little things - like the way that she didn’t sleep naked anymore, she now showered after him instead of with him, she waited to change until after he had left the room, and she started taking much longer baths that always resulted in the being door closed. He knew that she wasn’t happy, and he missed the normality and comfort that he always felt with her, and in turn that he provided for her - a comfort that he hated seeing her no longer have in his presence under the fear of rejection. But he had no idea how to get it back without the blaring image of what he’d done seeping in and distorting reality as it had every single day since he’d pulled that damn trigger. All he knew was that he had to start trying before it was too late.

♕

Chapter Text

http://aravenamongcrows. (ask and submissions are open!!)

https://www.instagram.com/m.s.alexis/

♕

Tig stood with his feet apart and his hips forward as he assumed the position along with the rest of his crew, looking down the line at Clay who lifted his gun and began firing, starting a chain reaction. He closed his eyes as he lifted his  sample weapon to do the same, but he quickly realized that, as he wielded the exact model that he had killed Donna with not three months earlier, he would need to keep his eyes open for this. He needed to see what he was shooting. He needed to be sure.

He opened his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, looking over at Sydney who had turned to look at him with a grin on her face. He shook his head as a bashful smile swelled on his cheeks, turning his attention back to the target that he now knew was safe - hammering his ringed finger against the trigger which shot a spray of bullets into the dark haired woman that appeared, standing with her back to him.

He gasped, dropping the weapon that continued to fire into her even from the dirt, but she didn’t collapse as she had that night - instead, she turned to face him.

Sydney was coaxed awake easily as Tig began tossing beside her - the routine that her nervous system had been trained to expect. She’d long surpassed the need to blink the sleep out of her eyes as she rushed to his aid in the manner that she’d had many nights to perfect - placing her hands on the sides of his neck and tangling her fingers into his grown out curls as she began whispering sweet nothings into the air that surrounded his turmoil.

“I told him he would hurt me.” Her pained voice uttered through her tears as she stood before him, riddled with his bullets. 

“Donna…”

“This aint no life for women and children.” She shook her head.

“I’m s-”

But Tig didn’t get to finish his apology as his tearful blue eyes cracked open under the comforting touch, widening painfully as they strained to focus in the dark. 

“It’s okay, baby.” He heard Sydney’s voice, loosening the shaky breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding - wrapping her in his arms and burying his face into the comfort of her hair.

Sydney’s eyes fell closed as a shameful sigh escaped her lips, selfishly reveling in the only touch that he could bear to give her. “Do you want me to read, or sing?” She asked softly as she placed a gentle kiss to the scorching skin of his neck, pressing a hand to his chest before slipping out of bed to fetch him some water.

Tig took a deep breath as she disappeared into the bathroom, exhaling as he swiped his hand down his face - contemplating the options that, just a few short months ago, he would’ve declined without a second thought. 

But the constant push and pull of his fucked up mind didn’t allow him to realize that they could finally see through the glass that was no longer frosted with layers of deception - the only goal that they’d ever had as a couple. Instead, all he saw was regression - regression in the one area that had always served as their strongest bond. 

“Read.” He choked out as she reappeared by his side, gratefully accepting the cold water from her outstretched hand where he brushed his fingers against hers. “I don’t think I’m gonna be sleepin anytime soon…”

“Okay.” Sydney nodded softly, returning to her side of the bed where she reached over her nightstand and retrieved the old book that her dad had read to her, countless times.

“You didn’t read ahead too, did you?” He grumbled with a small smile as he settled his head in her lap.

“No.” She giggled as she wound her fingers into his thick hair that had lightened in colour over the summer, flipping through the worn pages of the book that had made it through many moves and trips to the beach - and now, rough nights. 

“The dwarves and Bilbo shouted and cheered.” Tig closed his eyes as she began narrating the story that he had never gotten to hear. As a kid, all of his classmates had read The Hobbit - had gotten to read The Hobbit. But he was different - he didn’t have a quiet place at home where he could curl up with a book long enough to take any of it in before his father could smack it out of his hands, or a mother who was coherent enough to read it to him, and the rage that he felt against the kids at school who did have those luxuries never allowed him to sit still long enough to do it anywhere else. He had spent his youth feeling like an animal backed into a corner - terrified and desperate with only one way out, but Sydney had adopted that traumatized little boy into her loving home where, for once, he felt that violence wasn’t his only option.

Sydney felt the weight lifting off of her chest as his tense body began to go limp beneath her fingertips. They never made it more than a few pages into the story before he fell asleep, but she didn’t mind if it meant that she got to bring him peace in one of the only ways that peace had been brought to her.

♕

Tara pulled onto the compound carefully with baby Abel strapped in his car seat behind her. She had no doubts about the safety of the top of the line model that Gemma had purchased, but she wasn’t so sure that she felt as secure about the tattered seatbelts that lined the back of her dad’s Cutlass that she had taken as her daily driver.

“You ready to see grandma?” She cooed to the baby that she couldn’t help but think of as her son - snapping back to reality as Jax parked his bike next to her. 

“Thanks for drivin him.” Jax leant down to her waiting lips with a smile as he pulled his helmet from his overgrown locks.

“No problem.” Tara smiled back. 

“You sure you don’t wanna come tonight?” He asked again with a raised brow as his blue eyes shifted to the office door where Gemma was standing. “She wouldn’t be there.” He smirked.

Tara shifted her eyes to the Matriarch as well, feeling the same flutter in her stomach as she had during their conversation the day before - the flutter of approval , and it was a feeling that she intended to keep up. “I’m sure.” She smiled. “Let her know I’ll head over to grab him after my shift - give her the night off.”

“Okay.” Jax nodded with pride. He knew that Tara’s need to please had more to do with his mother than it had to do with him, but he was just glad to see that for once , the women in his life weren’t his biggest problem. “Hopefully if this nanny thing today works out, you won’t have to.” He told her with a knowing smile.

“I don’t mind.” Tara told him with every ounce of sincerity. Every second that she got to spend with the sweet baby boy was a blessing that she didn’t intend on taking for granted - she’d already flirted with that fate. “You going to see Ope?” 

“Yeah.” Jax nodded as she brought up the sore subject that he had reluctantly decided to keep her in the dark about, letting her efforts to foster his child brighten up the corners of his dark and tortured mind that had threatened to unravel him. 

“Mornin.” Gemma cut the tension as she approached the couple that her bitter hazel eyes were becoming more accustomed to.

“Hey, Ma.” Jax straightened up, walking into his mother’s arms where he placed a kiss against her bony cheek. “Thanks for doin this.”

“It aint just for you.” She told him playfully, making her way to the backseat where she began unstrapping the car seat, forgoing the greeting to Tara. 

Tara chuckled, shaking her head and rolling her eyes knowingly as Jax stood with a brow raised. “I love you.” He told her once they were free of the pair, leaning down to peck her lips. 

“I love you too.” She smiled against his mouth. 

“Your best friend’s here.” Gemma rolled her eyes as she shuffled back into the office with Abel in hand. 

Sydney sat up taller in her chair as she peered through the blinds to see Tara’s car, waiting until Jax was far enough away. “I’ll be back.” She tossed Gemma a playful wink that she knew she would hate, bounding out the door.

“Damn, doc.” Tara looked up from where she had been smoothing her hand along her stomach - her aching, empty womb . “Daycare drop off looks real good on you.” A smile spread across her face as Sydney stood before her with a playful grin. 

“You’re here early.” She scoffed as she eyed the clock on her dashboard. 

“Long night.” Sydney’s grimace was hidden by her squint in the early morning sun. “You got time to go grab coffee?” 

Tara thought about it for a second. She really didn’t have time - but she would make time for the only friend that she had who understood all of the confusing things going through her mind. 

“Sure.” She smiled, nodding to her passenger seat where Sydney quickly climbed in. She was glad to see that she looked like less of a pornstar today in her white graphic t-shirt and tight grey jeans, hopeful that the cooling temperatures would mean that she didn’t have to feel so underdressed everytime that she was near her.

The two chatted mundanely as they made the short drive to Sydney’s favorite coffee shop on Main Street, waltzing in where they stepped into the lengthy line of small town residents stopping for their morning sustenance.

“I hope Gemma didn’t want you back anytime soon…” Tara chuckled as she looked around the tiny storefront that was absolutely packed.

“I’ll bring her back a coffee.” Sydney shrugged.

“Black with lots of sugar.” Tara laughed - almost surprising herself with the memory. “Maybe I’ll get her something…” She mumbled mindlessly as she scanned the rows of sweets.

“No.” Sydney hummed as she pulled Tara away from the pity-pastries

“Why not?” Tara’s dark brows furrowed.

“She’ll know you’re kissing her ass.” Sydney scoffed.

“God.” Tara rolled her eyes. How didn’t she think of that? “How did you get in with her so easily?” She whined.

“I wasn’t trying.” Sydney replied with an easy smirk. “I also wasn’t fucking her son, so that helped.” She gave a sly smile that almost faltered as her stomach twinged through the inadvertent lie in what was supposed to be a light-hearted joke. 

“Yeah, I guess that does.” Tara laughed, stepping up to the counter where she placed her order for a large flat white.

“How’s that going, anyways?” Sydney reignited the conversation after placing her order, as well as Gemma’s - taking it in a direction that didn’t tremble her already shot nerves.

“Good.” Tara blinked. She was surprised - this was one of the first times that Sydney had brought up Jax in weeks , but it only reminded her of the unspoken, one-sided understanding that they had come to about discussing their relationships. “How’s Tig? I haven’t seen much of him lately…” She probed gently, but the truth shone blatantly in her eyes.

“He’s fine.” Sydney quipped, turning away quickly as she inched closer to the pickup counter.

Tara felt a scowl forming on her face. At first she had been concerned for her friend - desperately curious as to what had twisted her favorite couple up so badly since Donna’s death. But that was months ago, now she was starting to think that this was all some big power trip; some moral high ground that Sydney took advantage of after learning of the upper hand that she and Tig had over her and Jax - that she had the right to judge her relationship, but couldn’t receive judgment in return. 

Sydney took the liberty of grabbing Tara’s order as well, hoping that the more time that she spent trying to fit the hot coffees into a tray - the more time Tara would spend rethinking her topic of conversation.

And she was right. The brunette stayed silent as they made their way to the car, something changing about her aura as she stepped back into the vehicle.

“So I talked to Gemma last night…” She started.

“Oh?” Sydney raised a brow. She was shocked to say the least, but she now understood why she had been quick to change her attitude. “And?”

“She gave me some good advice.” She nodded as she shifted the old car into drive. “About transparency…” She added gently.

“I know all about that.” Sydney snorted, too preoccupied with her own bitter feelings about that pesky little demon… Transparency . 

“Do you?” Tara squinted skeptically - desperate for some more information from the only person that she had ever felt that she’d actually had some kind of transparency with.

Sydney felt her body stiffen in defense - a mode that she had become far too familiar with. “What are you asking?” She bit out. 

Tara blinked as she retreated in her seat, realizing that her intentions had been taken out of context. “I guess I just don’t know where to draw that line.” She shrugged. “You know… Not giving in to him unless he tells me the truth.”

“Well.” Sydney smiled sarcastically - deciding to throw her a fragment of the bone that she was so desperate for. “I can tell you that when you don’t draw the line? It gets ugly. Trust me - you don’t wanna see it.”

Tara scowled. Maybe this wasn’t some kind of power trip at all - something that she had been too conditioned by Gemma to expect - maybe something bad really was going on between them, something like she’d thought all of those months ago…

“With the way that he treats you? I find it hard to believe that he could get ugly.” She chortled as she pulled back onto the compound, prying more gently this time. Slow and steady wins the race.

Tara’s words felt like a punch to Sydney’s already bruised heart - and ego. They were words that she would’ve taken pride in prior to the incident, because then they had been true. But now they just came as a bitter reminder that purity couldn’t survive in this life. Anything that wasn’t tainted with blood and smoke would always be too good to be true. 

“Yeah, I never said he was the ugly one…” She stared ahead distantly as she spoke the shameful and cryptic words before ripping her seatbelt off.

Tara raised a brow, not relenting until Sydney finally had to look at her as she passed over her drink from the tray. She sighed when she managed to catch her gaze and didn’t let go, softening her expression for the older woman that she needed to remember was a friend and not an enemy. 

“Just do me a favor and take my word for it, okay?” She widened her eyes sympathetically. “Now that I know better…”

“How do I do that?” Tara’s forehead creased. 

“Exactly like Gemma said.” Sydney nodded. “Make him earn it.” She narrowed her eyes.

Tara wished that she could understand it - their affinity with using sex, but after a lifetime of being the usee and not the user, the entire concept just made her feel dirty. She wanted to avoid it altogether. 

“I’m not some object that he gets to have as a prize if he behaves.” She grinded her teeth together as her eyes slipped shut - digging her skull back into her headrest.

“You are when you look at it like that.” Sydney nodded pointedly. 

“So how am I supposed to look at it then?” Each word that she spoke become more laced with frustration as Sydney talked so easily about something that she struggled so fucking hard to understand. 

“Like you’re bigger than him.” Sydney stated simply. “He has to earn what he so desperately wants - what you decide if you will let him have.” She explained the only way that she knew how - a way that Tara clearly still wasn’t following. “It’s the same way that you made him earn his way back into your heart.” She nodded - trying a softer angle that she hoped the bleeding heart sitting in front of her would be able to comprehend.

“He was always in my heart...” She groaned with a wince. 

“Desire can have the most powerful man begging at your feet, Tara. He already loves you, so you don’t need to question if he desires you. You just need to make him show it.” She nodded.

Tara nodded back slowly as she finally started to understand what it was that Sydney was saying. She wasn’t sure if she could do it - wield sex like a powerful weapon - but at least she was starting to understand how it worked.

“Just remember this, okay? You may be the one on your knees, but you have him by the balls.” She smirked.

Tara chuckled, hugging her friend goodbye as she processed the wealth of new information - trying to figure out how she fit into all of it… If she even did fit into all of it. But she shook those thoughts away. She was determined to make herself fit. 

“Jesus.” Sydney muttered as her combat boots brought her stomping into the office where she slammed the black coffee down on Gemma’s desk as she rocked her sleeping grandson. “I see why you used to be so worried about that girl.” She chuckled as she made her way back to her own desk. 

“ Used to?” Gemma scoffed with a brow raised as she reached for the paper cup.

“Well.” Sydney sat back in her chair smugly. “You gave her your little transparency talk, so you can’t be that worried.” She challenged with a raise of her own brow as she brought her drink to her curled up lips.

Gemma scoffed, unable to decide if she was impressed, or pissed off by Sydney’s intelligence - but it was an intelligence that she hadn’t yet decided the legitimacy of, either. Only time would make that clear.

“Hey!” She swatted the air in a scold as Sydney lit up a cigarette across the room. “You’re doin it again!” She looked down at the baby in her arms.

“You smoke around him!” Sydney shook her head incredulously. 

“Not a pack a day!” Gemma continued to frantically motion towards the door.

Sydney rolled her eyes as she made her way outside, rounding the side of the building where she pressed her back up against the cool bricks and attempted to smoke in peace.

♕

Happy made his way out of the Tacoma clubhouse, taking his last breath of fresh, pine-filled air before he made the lengthy trip back to Charming. Things had been quiet lately - too quiet, even for him. The northern charters where he had condemned himself to spending his time over the past few months were nice, but he found that nothing satisfied him these days quite like California did, and he was happy to finally have an excuse to return to the one place that had always felt like home.

“Didn’t think you were gonna head out without me, did ya?” He could practically hear the shit-eating grin through the taunting tone that came from behind him, looking up to see Kozik trotting down the wooden steps after him. 

“Didn’t remember inviting you.” He quipped back with a smirk.

“Eh, figured a release party is the perfect time for a little family reunion.” The blonde man threw his muscled arm around his bony shoulders. “You know, visit the ol’ stomping grounds. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah right.” Happy scoffed, elbowing him playfully in the stomach. 

“Sorry, Kozzy-poo.” Donut appeared next, shoving his brother of equal stature out of the way as he made his way towards the bikes with Happy. “VIP only.” He winked as he pulled his helmet down over his long locks.

“Didn’t know that ‘VIP’ was code for ‘scraped the bottom of the barrel’.” He shot back.

“Think it’s best if you sit this one out.” Happy nodded to his friend before pulling on his own helmet - glad that the Redwood native didn’t put up a fight. He was trying desperately to get back in Sydney’s good graces - hence Donut’s presence - and bringing Tig’s worst enemy surely wouldn’t help him do that.

♕

After more laps around town than Jax cared to admit, he finally pulled into Opie’s driveway where that sense of unbridled certainty that he’d amassed during the months in his best friend’s absence began to sink deeper into his chest. He had been able to wear the mask for his club, for his mother, for Tara, even for himself - but he didn’t know if he could hide under the veil in the face of the man whose sanity had forced him to wear it in the first place. But as his best friend emerged from his garage with the same look of uncertainty on his face, he felt the curtain of secrecy being pulled a little tighter. He needed to stick this out - for Opie, for Piney, for his father . 

The two men said nothing as they pulled each other into a hard embrace that was weeks overdue - something that they both knew but neither expressed.

“It’s good to see you, brother.” Opie choked out through his tear-filled eyes.

“Yeah.” Jax forced a smile. “How was the walkabout?” He grimaced.

Opie looked to the ground, forcing his beanied head into a nod. “I’m doin’ okay.” He lied.

Jax knew that it was a lie, but he also knew that there wasn’t much else for his grieving friend to say - and for that, he was grateful. “What’s this?” He nodded towards the old bike sitting in the middle of the garage that served as a perfect distraction from what neither of them wanted to admit. “Holy shit… Panhead EG… ‘63?”

“‘65.” Opie nodded as a ghost of a smile came to his lips - grateful for the first normal conversation that he was having back in the town that had robbed him of just that.

“Where’d you find it?” Jax raised a brow, impressed.

“Highway Patrol pulled me over outside of Ukiah… I started bullshitting with him and he turned me onto this used parts guy. Electra Glide was just rottin behind some garage…” Just like he was . “It’s all there.” He blinked himself from his sorrow. “Stock.”

“That’ll keep you busy.” Jax scoffed.

“That’s the plan…”

Jax gave his friend a sympathetic smile. “I missed you, bro…” 

Opie chewed his lip. “How’s everybody doin’?”

“You know… Gettin’ in done.” Jax shrugged as he took a seat on the edge of the trailer that held the old bike.

“I heard Syd’s been a big help with the kids…” Opie commented.

“Yeah. We made a new deal with the Irish.” Jax was quick to gloss over that topic. “We’re gonna run handguns up the coast til the ATF heat dies down.”

“What does that do to business?” Opie questioned.

“We keep supplying Oakland…” He broached the subject gently. “Just need to figure out who that supply goes to…”

Opie finally realized what that meant. “Retaliation?” He straightened up. 

“Yeah.” Jax nodded sincerely. “We’re sittin down to figure it out - wanted to wait until you got back.”

“Hey, Jax.” Both men whipped their heads around where they found Mary standing in the doorway.

“Hey, Mary.” The blonde man shot her the best boyish grin that he could muster while coming off of a conversation - and internal decision - that heavy.

Opie turned away the second that he saw his mother - the mother that had bailed on him, but had come to the aid of his children when he followed directly in her footsteps. 

“He’s too skinny, right?” She nodded to her son with a smile as she leaned up to kiss his scruffy cheek.

“We’ll beef him up.” Jax chuckled, turning towards his best friend knowingly. 

“The kids will be so glad to see yo-”

“I get some things to take care of.” Opie cut her off, softening his tone as he realized how it sounded. “You mind pickin em up from school, Ma?”

“It can wait, man…” Jax told him gently. 

“No.” Opie snapped, his teeth grinding as he willed himself to calm down. “I-” He cleared his throat. “I’ll see the kids later, Ma.” He told them both - leaving no room for negotiation. “See you at the clubhouse.” He nodded to Jax before making his way towards his bike.

Jax sighed, turning back to a disappointed Mary as she watched her son walk away from his children, just as she did. “Ope loves his kids…” He assured her. “We just gotta give him a minute.”

“Take care of him, Jax.” She told him sternly. She knew all too well that loving one’s kids had little to do with having the strength to be there for them. 

♕

Chapter Text

SURPRISE. Blessing you all with some bonus content since today is Sydney’s birthday 🎉 

First off, we have this bonus update, because what better way to celebrate our Aries queen than by watching her scheme? 

Second, I made a 3D tour of Sydney’s entire house (which took 15 hours so don’t let it go to waste, I beg) https://youtu.be/8nhsR30R674   (this link will also be on the ARAC Tumblr page  and it will be linked on the Tumblr Masterlist as well). Let me know if it’s anything like what you’ve imagined!

AND THIRD, head over to my Instagram @m.s.alexis for an exclusive Sydney birthday edit/post!!! (Because it’s cool as fuck and I did a really good job on it, ok? Ok.)

OK NOW LET’S GET INTO IT

♕

Tig made his way into the office after a grueling morning of working double time in order to complete all of their cars for the week, a day early - wiping his hands on a service rag when found Sydney at her desk, anxiously tapping her pen against a stack of paper while her knee bounced in tune.

“Nap time?” He raised a brow. He could tell that she was exhausted and in desperate need of a cigarette - another bad habit that she had ramped up lately. 

Sydney snapped out of her jittered haze, blinking a few times as she looked up at Tig. “Lord knows I fuckin need it.” She scoffed.

Tig felt his face fall into a grimace as a pang of guilt jolted through him - a feeling that no matter how often he experienced, he never got better at hiding.

Sydney felt her face fall as well as she realized what she’d done, pushing back from her desk. “If we’re partying tonight.” She clarified casually, doing her best to avoid drawing attention to the slip up for both of their sakes.

“Mmm.” He nodded as he reached for her coffee, not completely convinced, but not willing to accept the feelings that came along with acknowledging that. “Jesus.” His face contorted as he yanked the paper cup away from his puckered lips. “I can’t wait until tomorrow when all this pumpkin shit is gone.” He grumbled with a shake of his head.

Sydney giggled as she dug out her cigarettes, thankful that at least something good had come from her coffee run with Tara.

♕

Bobby sat back against the hard chair in the interview room of the ATF facility in Stockton where he had been held captive by the feds for the last eighty-six days, narrowing his small eyes at Stahl as she walked in with her head down. 

“Release papers.” She told him as she slid the stack of documents across the table, still avoiding his questioning gaze. “Your lawyer has already been through them. Read them, initial the boxes, sign them, and we’ll have you home to your wife and kids by the end of the day.” She plastered a fake smile on her healed face. 

“Rosen told me that my case was thrown out at the end of August. You mind tellin me why I’m just gettin cut loose now?” He raised a brow.

Stahl sighed through her nostrils and her eyes fell closed as the scumbag who sat smugly before her, forced her to relive the blunder of an investigation - all thanks to them. “The witness went missing. The State Attorney dismissed the case.” She growled through her clenched teeth. “But, we can detain for up to sixty days in the hopes that the case gets reinstated... It didn’t.” She finished with another fake smile before quickly turning towards the door. 

“So that’s it, huh?” He chortled, waiting until she turned back around to carry on the taunt that he had been waiting to give. “Your pretty face gets smashed in… You spend months, thousands of dollars trying to crush us… What for, bitch? What’d you get?”

Stahl chewed the inside of her lip as she contemplated her answer. “Peace of mind.” She told him simply, finally ridding herself of his presence. 

♕

Clay sat anxiously at a quiet table in the bar with his thick black-framed glasses teetering on the bridge of his nose as he sifted through dozens of charter records, doing whatever he could to busy his mind before he had to face Opie; and worse - Jax.

“You plannin a trip?”

Relief instantly flooded him as he heard her voice - the kind of relief that only came from the one person that you didn’t have any secrets with in a time where secrets were the only thing keeping you alive. “Ah, I’m just seein what charters we’re gonna need to make this thing work with the Irish.” He looked up at Gemma, then down at Abel where he sat, happily cooing in the stroller that she was pushing. 

“Well, if it involves you and a map - we’re screwed.” She teased.

“You sayin’ I got no sense of direction?” He smirked up at her. 

“I’m sayin’ that you need a GPS to get from the driveway to the front door.” She bit her lip.

Clay chuckled, pulling her into his lap. “You know I’d be lost without you, baby.” He teased. 

“Got that right.” She scoffed, leaning down to his lips where she indulged in his taste until the inevitable sound of Abel crying pulled her away. 

Clay chuckled as she got up out of his lap, shaking his head as he returned to his paper stack. “How’d that nanny thing go?” He raised a brow.

“Good.” Gemma smiled, finding herself a little extra grateful to have a husband who so fiercely valued every word that came out of her mouth - even if they were just mundane details about her daily schedule. “I hired her to help with him - Neeta.”

“ Neeta ?” Clay scowled. “Oh, jesus…” He threw the map back down to the table in mock-anger. “There goes my under-aged nanny fantasy.” He rolled his eyes, sliding his glasses off with a sigh before his smile could break through prematurely. 

“Actually…” Gemma narrowed her eyes as she sauntered up to him. “It’s time for your one-o’clock feeding…” She rasped, running her fingers over his broad shoulder before making her way down the hall with a seductive grin.

♕

Sydney made her way out of Tig’s dorm after a peaceful - and thankfully dreamless - nap, sucking in a deep, cleansing breath as she stretched her arms above her head before starting down the hallway, stopping when she heard something very unusual.

“Wait.” She whirled around and placed her hand on Tig’s chest to still him as she examined the noises coming from one of the floater dorms - the noises that they usually made in the middle of the day, but she pushed the bitter thought away. She needed redemption after the way that she had let this exact scenario embarrass her the night before. “Is that?” She raised a brow, knowing that there was only one couple that the scandalous medley of groans and moans could belong to. 

“Yep.” Tig chuckled in amusement, pulling her against him to keep them both quiet as they pressed their ears against the thin wall. 

“Hey!” They were startled by an overly chipper voice, looking up to see Half-Sack making his way towards them - completely oblivious to both their eavesdropping, and what they were eavesdropping on as he hauled a giant box over his shoulder. “Could you guys help me with that door?” He nodded.

Sydney’s eyes lit up as the perfect opportunity presented itself on a silver platter. “Sure thing, Kippy.” Tig nodded through the sinister grin on his face, trying not to laugh as he nudged Sydney forward where he could feel her shoulders starting to shake.

Sydney held in the laugh that was bubbling deep in her stomach and steadily climbing up her chest as she turned the knob just enough that he could push the door open with his body weight and keep them out of sight - and line of fire. 

“Oh shit!” Half-Sack blinked once he realized what he had just walked in on. “Balls! Shit. I’m so sorry.” He froze in place as a half-clothed Clay and Gemma came into view. “I, uh… Um, I was just putting this here.” He rushed to set the box down, looking frantically between them, and the doorway where Sydney and Tig were cackling.

“Either join in, or get out, Sparky.” Gemma rolled her eyes over Clay’s shoulder from where he laid on top of her. 

“Okay.” Half-Sack nodded, pulling the door shut behind him before her words tugged him back. “Wait…” He re-entered the room, sending Sydney and Tig into a further fit of incredulous hysterics. “You didn’t really mean that you want me to join in, did yo-”

“Get out!” Clay hollered, sending the babbling kid bolting down the hallway before he could think to reprimand his makers.

Gemma sighed once Half-Sack was finally gone, chuckling as she returned to her husband’s lips before, yet again, Abel pulled her away with his shrieking. 

“Oh my god.” She groaned with a laugh, her smile only widening as one graced his lips. 

“Ah, kids… Huh?” He breathed out through his hearty laugh, leaning down to her lips one last time. “I’m sorry, my love…” He rolled off of her and flopped down onto the bed with a sigh.

Gemma shook her head with a smile, wrapping herself in the Harley Davidson blanket on the end of the bed as she crossed the room to Abel.

“I meant what I said, you know.” Clay told her as he pushed himself up, leaning back against his elbows as he admired the only person who could’ve gotten him to crack a smile today. “I would be lost without you.” And it was true. She had been his true north the last few months, even more than she ever had. He knew that no matter what, as long as he had her by his side, everything would be just fine.

As the joyous thrill of shit disturbing buzzed through Sydney’s weakened body while they held each other upright in an attempt to recover from the hysteria, she decided that now was as good of a chance as she was going to get anytime soon. 

“Joining in… Huh?” She raised a brow suggestively as she smoothed her hand up his chest. 

Tig shivered under her touch, but it wasn’t the shiver that he was used to feeling from her - the one that went straight to his cock - it was one that sent a flash of horrendous scenes from the shooting, into the backs of his eyes. He knew that this was his opportunity to push through it - to finally allow himself to feel something other than guilt while she was willing to overlook it, but he couldn’t find it in himself to do it. A demon like him was not worthy of the pleasures from an angel like her. 

“Doll, I don’t think Gemma would take too kindly to us ruining her afternoon tango  and bein’ late.” He winked, pressing his lips against her temple before he took off down the hallway so that he didn’t have to see how badly he was disappointing her. 

Sydney sighed, letting her eyes fall closed as she chewed the inside of her lip and wrapped her hand around his ring. She had been fighting the urge for weeks , and she had been patient with him the same way that he had been patient with her. But as time continued to stretch on, her patience was running out as her pounding heart shrunk in her chest, just as her ego did.

♕

The harsher that the dread became for everybody as the realization of what the afternoon would mean began to set in, the faster the time seemed to pass. Before they knew it, they were face to face with Opie on the compound; the one place that he had steadily avoided since the death of his wife - and maybe even before then. 

Opie fought the grimace that threatened his expression when not even the sight of every single member awaiting his return to the place that they all had the luxury of calling home, could put a smile on his face. He took a deep breath as Clay approached him with his arms out, emotionlessly stepping into them, just as he did everybody else, until he reached Sydney.

“Hi, Ope.” She gave him a weak smile as she pushed herself onto her tiptoes and into his embrace, locking eyes with Jax who stood in the distance with Piney.

“Thanks for your help with the kids.” Opie mumbled into the sweet smell of her hair that was lighter since the last time he’d seen her. “Really appreciate it.” He gave a curt nod as he straightened back up.

“The club protects their own.” Sydney nodded back, struggling for the first time to believe her token statement - especially as Jax scoffed behind them. She kept her gaze on him as she slowly turned to follow everybody inside, praying that whatever he was hanging back to tell Piney, would not blow back on her.

“I talked to Hale. He understands.” Jax told the old man without taking his eyes off of Sydney.

“Yeah, right.” Piney scoffed, letting his own eyes linger on the snake of a girl who he saw as being just as responsible for tearing his family apart. No matter how well Clay liked to believe that he had covered his tracks, it hadn’t been hard for him to fit the pieces of the puzzle together on his own - the confirmation from Jax had simply been a short-lived bonus. 

Jax sighed as the familiar squabble began. “Piney… Keepin this between us? It’s the best thing… But just for now. You hear what I’m sayin?” He fully intended on outing the real rats at the table that would soon belong to him, but he had to wait until the time was right - until Opie was right, because he couldn’t do it alone.

♕

“I haven’t been able to say this yet on a club level…” Clay began the heavy session that he had been dreading for months, turning his sympathetic gaze towards Opie. “We’re all broken up about what happened to Donna.” He nodded sincerely - lacing his words with as much truth as he could. “She was a great girl… I know how much you loved her.” He focused on nothing but Tig and Sydney’s incessant nodding as he avoided the eyes of Jax and Piney. “She sure loved you… And I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” Opie spit out the second that there was silence in the air, keeping his eyes glued to his lap.

“Now we gotta deal with the underbelly of this.” Clay breathed out, glad that the younger man seemed to want as little to do with the sentiments as he did. “Those bullets that killed her? They were meant for you.” Jax and Piney exchanged a glance as they waited to see what direction this took while Sydney and Tig shared the same one, but for a completely different reason. “We gotta settle that.”

“Had to be the Niners.” Opie looked up for the first time since church had started. “Unser said it was a gangster SUV, black guy driving.” He scowled.

“No one saw who was driving, Ope. No one.” Tig assured him. “We’re pretty sure the guy was not black.” Because if he was, that would be bad for business.

“Brown.” Sydney corrected.

“Right.” Clay nodded.

“Mayans?” Opie’s scowl only deepened. This was the first that he was hearing of this. “How do you know?

“Jax and Piney talked with Laroy, so we know it wasn’t the Niners.” Chibs nodded.

Sydney breathed a small sigh of relief when the Scotsman unknowingly covered for them - glad that at least someone was buying what they were trying so hard to sell. 

A few moments of silence passed as Opie pondered the confusing new intel, looking to Jax for confirmation that he still didn’t quite understand the lack thereof. 

“That’s right.” Piney nodded from the end of the table - blinking his glossy eyes at Jax who he was placing all of his trust in. “As far as Laroy’s concerned, the, uh… The Niners and the SOA are good.”

“And you believed him.” Opie scoffed at his oaf of a father without an ounce of inquisition in the question that fell from his mouth as a statement.

“Yeah.” Jax retook the reins. “We did.” He nodded slowly. “I know the truth when I hear it.”

Though Sydney should’ve been glad to hear the eerily convincing words coming from his mouth in her favor, all she could feel was terror. Terror because Jackson Nathaniel Teller was slowly learning how to hide the softness that used to bleed from his pores - masking it in a way that she was all too familiar with, because it was what made her so powerful.

“It’s gotta be Alvarez.” Tig nodded. “He thinks we set him up… We took his money, then we left him behind to get shredded by the Niners.”

Opie put his head back down as he ran through the second scenario that made just as much sense as the first one had - willing himself to keep his frustration at bay. He would find out who killed his wife, once and for all.

“I had Trammel look into it.” Clay unfolded the piece of paper that Tig had gotten from their friend on the force the day prior, hoping to put any of Opie’s confusion to bed. “Black Range Rover got jacked outside a bar that same night. Turns up two days later a few miles down the road from the Mayan clubhouse in Oakland - MAC-10 casings on the floor.” He explained with a raised brow. “I, uh, convinced Trammel to let us handle the arrest.”

“I’m the one who kills him.” Opie declared without a second thought.

“Agreed.” Clay nodded. “You, Tig, and Chibs.”

“And me.” Jax added. There was no way he was going to send Opie on a job without him this soon - especially with Tig.

“Yeah, I want Jax.” Opie nodded.

Clay sighed through his nostrils as he looked over at Jax who was staring him down, then to Tig who simply nodded. “Alright.” He shrugged with a slam of the gavel, watching as everybody filed out into the bar to welcome back their grieving brother - everybody except Jax.

Jax shut the double doors, making his way back over to where his stepfather sat with his head down - plucking the falsified police report from his decaying hands.

“Looks like Trammel earned his pay.” He scoffed as he made his way back into his seat.

“You got something you need to say?” Clay raised a brow, finally free to go on the defense now that they were alone - a disadvantage that Jax had learned to reap.

“We both know this is bullshit. And the only reason I don’t set fire to it is because I love Ope, and the truth would kill him.” He delivered the lie that couldn’t be classified as anything but the truth - for now.

“We all love Ope.” Clay snipped as he stood from his chair, swiping back the report from Trammel. “He needs this - and we’re gonna give it to him.”

“Whoever you put this murder on.” Jax called after him. “Just make sure that they deserve to die.” He told him pointedly. “Cause the guy that actually killed Donna is out there sharing a beer with her husband.”

“You better be real careful how you navigate around this one.” Clay’s voice dropped an octave as his pointed hand raised in front of him in a scold.

“Or what?” Jax scoffed - feeling a tiny surge of that power that he had allowed to poison his veins in Opie’s absence. “You gonna put a bullet in the back of my head too?” He smirked.

♕

Gemma made her way back into the clubhouse with Sydney in tow after they finally closed out all of the orders for the week in preparation for tomorrow’s unexpected day off. But her relief was short-lived as she crossed the threshold to see Clay at the same table as before, but this time with his head down.

“You watch him for a minute?” She looked back at Sydney who had migrated to the bar where Half-Sack was already pouring her a drink.

“Yeah.” Sydney nodded, reaching for the stroller as she tipped the rum and coke towards her lips - she had to get an early start if she wanted to properly enjoy this night, and her already high tolerance had been expanded greatly over the past few months. 

Gemma pushed the stroller over to her before she made her way over to her husband, approaching him much more cautiously than she had the first time.

“You okay, baby?” She asked quietly. 

“Oh.” Clay lifted his head, blinking a few times as he sorted out his expression. “Yeah.” He smiled up at his wife. 

“How’d it go with Opie?” She asked as she scanned the wall full of framed mugshots behind his head.

Clay followed her gaze, sighing as he considered his response carefully. “Good.” He nodded, pulling her into his lap once again. He did much better when he had her in his ear telling him not to worry - he didn’t want to give her a reason to stop. “We determined it was a Mayan problem - boys are out taking care of it.”

Gemma’s eyes shifted nervously as she contemplated the question that she feared the answer to. “Jax?” She asked skeptically. 

“He’s on board.” Clay nodded confidently. “Just like I told you he would be.” He raised a brow smugly as his hand tightened around her waist. 

“Is that what you told me?” She flirted, leaning down to his lips.

“Mhmm.” He hummed as he kissed her, smiling against her mouth. 

Gemma giggled, allowing herself to settle into the embrace for a few seconds as she trailed her hand down his chest. “Now why don’t you take me home and finish what you started earlier?” She raised a brow.

“What about the kid?”

“Tara’s comin to get him… I’m all yours tonight, baby.” She smirked.

“Oh…” Clay hummed again, returning to her sweet taste of security.

Sydney leant over the bartop, sighing as she wistfully watched the couple that she idolized - the couple that she thought she had a chance at being - shivering as the icy chill of embarrassment crashed through her tense muscles.

“Oh, yeah!” Half-Sack stole her attention away as he looked between them. “Thanks for that earlier.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s like you want to get rid of me sometimes, I swear.”

Sydney chuckled as she brought her drink to her lips. “Don’t worry, Kippy. I would never do anything to get rid of you… Someone needs to keep me entertained.” She winked.

Half-Sack rolled his eyes again, but his smile shined through the weak facade. Even if she was just playing around, he was glad to hear that she did want him around.

But the unintentionally tender moment was cut short by the booming of Clay’s demanding voice as he followed Gemma out the door. “Don’t forget your costume!” 

Sydney scowled as the words painted a wince on Half-Sack’s face. “You guys actually dress up around here?” She found it hard to believe that the largest chapter could set their masculinity aside for one night when even the smallest ones couldn’t.

“No.” Half-Sack winced again at the reminder that not only would he be dressed ridiculously, he would be the only one dressed ridiculously. “It’s my punishment for what you guys did to me earlier.” He whined, kicking the hardwood floor with the toe of his boot.

Sydney bit her lip in amusement. “You get to choose?” She raised a brow - already knowing the answer.

“Nope.” Half-Sack sighed as he reached down under the bar and retrieved the heinous outfit that Juice had found at the pop-up Halloween store.

Sydney grinned as the skin tight, red leotard came into view - complete with a tail, horns, and a sparkly pitchfork. “I can work with that.” She nodded, grabbing his hand and yanking him out of the bar behind her. 

♕

“Tell me you did it.” Opie demanded from the Mayan as he ripped the duct tape off of his mouth from where they had him up against a utility box in an abandoned industrial lot in Oakland.

“What?” The confused hispanic man looked around, trying to recognize the faces of the men who had yanked him off of the street, thrown him into a van, and brought him here.

“Tell me.” Opie growled as he pressed the barrel of his Glock against the liar’s forehead. “Tell me that you killed my wife.” Tig stole a glance at Jax from where he stood looking just as concerned in front of Chibs as the innocent man continued his pleas of confusion before Opie stuffed his gun in his mouth. 

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talkin about man.” He insisted with a very convincing scowl.

“Tell me that you pulled up behind her and unloaded an entire clip into the back of her head.” Opie persisted.

“No.” He shook his head casually, even with his teeth around the weapon that threatened to end his life - which only scared the left and right hands that much more. “You got the wrong guy, homes.”

“Ope!” Jax finally intervened, yanking his best friend away from their scapegoat as he gave Tig a look that told him to take care of it .

Tig blinked back after a few weary seconds of questioning what Jax’s true motives could be, but he realized that he didn’t have much of a choice but to trust him - especially without Sydney by his side to tell him otherwise.

“Go with em.” Tig nodded to Chibs. “Go on.” He watched the Scotsman head towards the two younger men as the incriminating expletives started spilling from the Mayan’s mouth.

“What the hell are you doin, man?” Jax forced a scowl once he got Opie far enough away that he wouldn’t be able to hear whatever Tig was going to have to do to pull this off. 

“I’m not leaving here with any doubt.” He sneered. 

“The longer this takes, the greater the risk.” He argued weakly as Chibs appeared behind him. “Ope, just do the guy and let’s get the hell out of here.”

“You guys can go.” Opie shook his head. This wasn’t for the club. This was for him - for Donna.

“Listen to me-”

“If it was Tara who had her head blown off, you would be ripping off that guy’s fingers, one by one.” Opie cut him off. “I gotta know, Jax…”

Jax took a deep breath, realizing that he had no way around this except to hope that he had stalled long enough for Tig to figure it out - and placing his only hope in the person that had crushed it in the first place was not something that he was eager to do.

“Okay.” He nodded, leading Opie and Chibs back to their victim where they heard a gunshot - the sound that, for the first time ever, provided him some relief. 

“Shit!” Chibs ran towards the Sergeant.

“Tig!” Opie followed after him.

“He broke loose - reached for my gun.” He explained as he watched the Mayan rolling beneath him in the dirt with a hole in the side of his mouth. “Had to blow him up, man. I’m sorry, Ope…”

“No doubt, bro.” Jax nodded, looking to Opie. “This guy killed Donna.”

Opie didn’t know what to believe, but he had to believe something , and his best friend seemed like his best choice - pointing his gun at the head of the agonized man where he pulled the trigger and ended his misery, just as he had done to his life. 

But a new problem arose as Jax, Tig, and Chibs all shared a look this time when Opie got to his knees and ripped open the shirt of the now lifeless man and pulled out his knife - carving the SOA marker into his stomach.

“Jesus christ.” Jax shuddered as he listened to the squelching of the blood around the blade as it dug into his flesh.

“So that Alvarez knows who, and why.” Opie nodded. 

Jax took a deep breath as his lifelong friend so valiantly declared the exact opposite of what they needed. “Get rid of those guns.” He nodded to the three men. “You guys take the van - head back. I’ll dump the body.” 

“You’re droppin him on Mayan turf… You can’t do that alone, Jackie Boy.” Chibs nodded.

“You guys need to be there when the feds drop off Bobby.” Jax shook his head. “I got this.” He nodded, bringing Opie into one last hug before he would be left alone to clean up his mistake. 

♕

Chapter Text

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https://www.instagram.com/m.s.alexis/

♕

“Hey.” Jax’s husky voice came down the line after the second ring, a small gesture that put a smile on Tara’s face as she made her way across the St.Thomas parking lot towards her car. 

“Hey, baby.” She cooed.

“How’d the nanny thing go with Gemma?” 

“Good. She called to let me know that she hired Neeta - offered me the night off, but I told her not to worry about it - I’m just on my way to grab him now.” She told him as she reached for the door handle. 

“That’s great.” 

A small scowl creased Tara’s brow as that horribly familiar feeling of uncertainty flittered in her chest. “You okay?” She asked tentatively as she pulled her hand away from the car door, beginning to wonder what it was that she had clearly interrupted as she listened to the sound of his heavy breathing.

“Yeah, I’m just in the middle of it.” Jax tried the best that he could to keep the irritation out of his voice as he looked down at the body that he had completely obliterated to destroy Opie’s mark of vengeance - an act that would only bring on a new one, but that was a problem for another day.

“Uh, am I gonna see you later?” She tried to sound as casual as she could as she listened for any sounds of explanation in the background of his call, but she got nothing. 

“I don’t know. I gotta drop something in Oakland, then head to Bobby’s party.”

Oakland? “Um, o-okay.” She stuttered - her face falling to a wince. “I love you.” She tried to recover.

“I love you too.” He replied after a moment's silence before snapping the phone shut, leaving Tara to ponder the words of the only women who understood the weight of them.

♕

“What d’ya think?” Half-Sack looked up from where he had been sitting on the end of Sydney’s bed for the last two hours while he waited for her to get ready for the party - a feat that normally would’ve made him antsy, but he was in no hurry to put on that horrendous outfit.

“Uh.” The poor kid nearly choked as his innocent blue eyes landed on the ironic costume that was anything but - blinking rapidly as he rubbed the back of his neck and tried to find words that wouldn’t get him beaten to a pulp. “Um, are you- Are you sure that Tig’s gonna be okay with you wearing that? You know, like… Around everyone else…” He tried to keep his eyes from falling instinctually to her ass that could be seen through the sheer white fabric that hardly did anything to cover it anyways.

“Nope.” She smacked her lips with a shrug, walking over to her vanity where she straightened the halo sitting atop the mass of voluminous blonde curls that she had embellished with shiny strands of tinsel.

“Isn’t that gonna like… Get me in trouble.” He raised his brows, failing horribly at trying to be subtle.

The chuckle in Sydney’s chest rippled up her throat and escaped through her nostrils. “You don’t gotta worry about the big bad Sergeant tonight, Kippy - that’s my job.” She smirked at her reflection. 

♕

By the time that Jax finally made it home to shower off the stench of death before Bobby’s party, Tara had already gotten Abel to bed and had curled up on the couch with a book.

“Hey.” He sighed, the exhaustion clear in his voice as he set his keys down on the coffee table and avoided her eyes.

“What happened to the party?” Hope laced her inquisition, wondering if maybe he had decided not to go after all.

“Just gettin in the shower now, then heading there.” He didn’t bother trying to sound enthusiastic as he began stripping the layers that weighed him down. “You sure you don’t wanna come?” 

Tara ignored his question as the agitated grunts began passing through his lips. “What’s the matter?” She asked more firmly this time now that she could see his frustration rather than just hear it, placing her book down on her lap.

“I’m just tired.” Jax shook his head, walking towards where she sat expectantly and leaning down to her lips, but he couldn’t quite make himself indulge in her purity after the heinous act that he had committed, kissing her cheek instead.

Tara sat stunned for a few minutes before she reminded herself who she was, and who she was with - allowing the revelation to take over her as she made her way down the hall towards the sound of the running water. It was time for some transparency.

But it was easier said than done as she approached the open down where she saw him leaning against the wall as the scalding hot water rained down over his head - doing nothing to cleanse him of his sins. She took a deep breath, doing what she could as she bent down to gather his spent clothing from the dampening tiles as steam billowed in the air above them - turning down the hall as she began devising a plan on her way to the laundry room for how she could make herself draw that line of truth that Gemma and Sydney were so adamant about.

But, as she pulled a blood-stained bandana from his back pocket, the plan devised itself. She felt every single one of her nerves beginning to try as the conclusions rushed from the back of her mind and now stood right in front of her face - feeling her body turning back to where he had stepped into a black towel, his chest red from the punishing stream.

Jax felt his face fall even further than it already had as his sorrowful blue eyes landed on all that remained of the innocent man that he’d sentenced to death, sitting in the dainty fingers of the one untainted thing he had left. 

“You know why I run away from shit all the time?” The words began tumbling from her trembling lips. “Because I don’t trust anyone… If I’m gonna stay, I need to know the truth.” She could feel herself getting angry - her breathing getting heavier and her words spilling out faster.

“I tell you the truth.” Jax tried weakly.

Tara sighed, shaking her head knowingly. “Not just what you think I can handle. I need all of it.” She took a deep breath as she assessed all of the words that she had spoken before she’d had the chance to comprehend them, realizing that maybe she did want the truth after all. “It’s the only way I’ll know if I can do this.” She nodded firmly - a last ditch effort to convince both of them.

Jax ran his hand down his face as he pondered the inevitable outcome that he had feared every single day since they had reconnected. But in the dark hours that had consumed him ever since Abel had come into his life, he had grown wise - wise enough to realize that the outcome didn’t have to be inevitable. Keeping her at arm's length had been the cause of their demise the first time, and he was now in control of if it would be the cause of their demise a second time. 

He reached out, plucking the sick souvenir from her hands and turning it in his own - throwing it out of his grasp as his skin began to crawl with guilt. He looked into her eyes one last time - the warm brown eyes that hadn’t yet turned cold as she looked at him with what he could only describe as faith.

“I helped Opie kill a man today.” He ignored the ache in his tightly clenched jaw as he fought off the tears that threatened to spill from his culpable eyes as he was forced to reveal the part of himself that he so badly wished didn’t exist. “Retaliation for Donna.” He explained as she stood, unmoving - praying that she had heard him, because he didn’t want to have to repeat it. “Shot him in the head.” He sighed.

Tara stood in place for a few more seconds as he squirmed under the gaze that she had no control over as the chill in her veins thawed and gave way to a new feeling, a feeling that she had never experienced before; a feeling of power - power that she didn’t have the first time.

The next thing that she knew, she was launching herself towards him - dropping his bloody clothes at her feet and yanking him to her lips where they told him all of the things that her voice couldn’t. 

She had managed to draw the line, and they had crossed it together.

♕

Tig made his way out of the shower and into some clean clothes as he readied himself for the party that he wished he would be able to enjoy, but with the dreary aftermath of what he had just done, and why he had done it - he would’ve much rather been able to cling to the comfort of a night in with Sydney, than have had to put on a front for everybody else.

He grabbed a beer from the fridge as he passed through the bar that was already beginning to fill up, grumbling when he saw that Half-Sack was nowhere in sight to serve him. But he pushed the brief consideration away - he would catch up with his punching bag later.

Finally, as he stalked out onto the compound with his jaw set harshly in place as he ignored the wandering eyes of croweaters that had traveled from near and far for the occasion, he found Clay - cautiously approaching him where he stood in the garage, observing the party that he too would soon have to face.

“We good?” Clay questioned as he slinked in next to him, not taking his eyes off of the thick crowd that was doing nothing to distract him from the mounting worry as the reality of the stunt that they had pulled began to set in.

“Yeah.” Tig blinked slowly, blowing out a long breath as he prepared himself to deliver the regretful news - the job that he had been plagued with far too often as of late. “Things got a little complicated…”

The casual scowl on Clay’s brow deepened as he turned his head towards his Sergeant. “Do I wanna know?” His expression remained as he waited for an answer.

“No worries.” Tig shook his head. “Jax cleaned it up.” He tried to tell his President as confidently as possible, but the assurance did nothing to calm Clay, just as it did nothing to calm him.

The older man sighed, his gaze returning to the packed compound where he easily picked out Opie as he sat at a table with his head down. “Think this moves him past it?” 

“I don’t know man… He’s working some shit out.” Tig answered easily - unsure if it was an answer for the long-haired man, or for himself.

“Well.” Clay perked up as the tow truck turned into the lot, watching as Half-Sack slowly meandered through the hoards of people on his way to the designated parking spot at the very back. “Hopefully this will be the pick me up that we need.” He forced a grin.

And it was - watching the skinny prospect nervously tumble out of the vehicle in the form-fitting devil costume that left absolutely nothing to the imagination was quite amusing, but the amusement came to a screeching halt when Sydney stepped out next to him in an outfit that was even more attention-grabbing.

Tig’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as they raked over Sydney’s fully exposed form in the sheer, fur-trimmed white babydoll that barely came down far enough to cover the sparkly white boy shorts that she wore underneath. He blinked a few times as Clay swung his head towards him discerningly, unable to formulate a proper reaction as he stood in shock - but the party-goers did it for him as whistles, whoops, and hollers arose in celebration of her risque costume choice that somehow managed to make even the bikers feel underdressed for the occasion. 

Sydney grinned under the sea of envious and eager eyes that ate up her theatrical juxtaposition, searching the crowd for the only set of eyes that she cared to see - but once she found them, she wished that she hadn’t. She felt the rapid thumping against her ribcage beginning to cease as her heart plummeted in her chest. The look that Tig was giving her wasn’t the one that she had hoped to provoke; it wasn’t one of passion, excitement, or lust, it was one of disappointment and discomfort - the same way that he had looked at her ever since he had killed Donna.

She had thought that her plan had been fool-proof; rile him up with a slutty outfit that would respark the flames that the weight of their mistakes had extinguished, but as she tore her eyes away from his disapproving gaze and looked down at her diamond-encrusted pleasers - courtesy of Cara Cara - she realized that she had only stomped out what had remained of the dwindled fire. 

As she made her way through the crowd under his disapproval, she became painfully aware of just how many people were looking at her on the arm of the prospect instead of the Sergeant, wrapping her arms around herself as the weight of their perception began to feel overbearing - realizing that maybe this hadn’t been the attention that she’d wanted after all.

Half-Sack was eternally grateful for Sydney as she stood next to him in full costume among the sea of bikers who had no regard for the childish holiday - not just because she had dressed up with him, but because her outfit had successfully managed to take almost all of the attention off of his. 

“I told you it would fit!” Juice hollered as he approached the pair, giving the prospect’s spandex-covered ass a hard slap.

“Yeah, yeah.” Half-Sack rolled his eyes, jumping at the sting, but a scowl came to his face when he turned back to see that Sydney was cowering behind him rather than joining in on the hassling. 

He looked between her and Tig, willing the frown not to grace his lips in front of the crowd that was already beginning to catch on to what was going on there - reaching for her hand instead. “Let’s get some drinks.” He pulled her inside where she was at least out of the spotlight, making his way around the bar where he poured her a tequila shot before popping the top off of a Corona. 

Sydney accepted the liquid courage gratefully, sighing as she poured the potent liquid down her throat - hoping that it would burn up the quivering in her nerves as quickly as she had trained it to. 

Half-Sack continued feeding her shots as he looked around, desperate for something to distract her - a spark of relief flooding him as he spotted two familiar bikes cruising past the open door.

“I think Bobby’s here.” He told her as he slid another shot across the bar.

“Already?” Sydney scowled as she lifted the glass to her lips, squeaking as the liquid almost became lodged in her throat as she felt herself being yanked outside before she could even swallow. “What the fuck, Sack-” She began to utter out as her thumb caught the stray drips from the corners of her glossy lips before the husky voice cut her off.

“Now there’s my Kitty Cat.” Donut rumbled from where he sat against his bike, his helmet still in hand.

“D!” Sydney squealed, bounding towards him without a care in the world for the shoes that threatened to break her ankles - or the man who has broken her heart, standing next to him - as she leaped into his giant arms.

Happy sighed as he watched the pair embrace while she blatantly ignored him - glad that, even if she refused to acknowledge it, he had still been able to make her smile. 

Donut grinned as she wrapped her legs around his waist, spinning her around a few times as he tried to find an appropriate place to rest his hands against her exposed skin since her back had been claimed by a pair of feathered wings. “You’re gonna get me in trouble with this outfit.” He whispered into her hair as he squeezed her ass - his devilish eyes catching those of both Happy and Tig

“Yeah, well…” She grumbled as she pulled away, looking over her shoulder at Tig who was standing just as stunned as he had been before. “A little trouble might be just what I need.” 

Donut raised a brow as he tightened his grip - narrowing his eyes at the Sergeant who looked like he was ready to blow at any second. He didn’t understand why she had suddenly abandoned her independence for a man who clearly didn’t appreciate her, but if trouble was what she was after, then he was happy to oblige.

Tig sucked in a deep breath as he watched his woman with another man’s hands on her in a way that his hadn’t been in months . He shook off the familiar impulse of violence that rolled over him, avoiding Clay’s knowing glance as he pulled himself together and made his way over to the entangled pair. 

“Trouble incoming.” Donut smirked as he set Sydney back down to the ground, squeezing her waist with a wink before he pulled the same hand away to shake that of the Redwood Sergeant that had his Princess so twisted up.

“Hey man.” Tig forced a smile as he met the taller man’s hand with a firm grip - but his was firmer.

“Glad we could make it down.” Donut smiled mockingly as his golden eyes narrowed and his grip tightened. 

“Yeah. Me too.” Tig lied through his gritted teeth. “You boys should head on inside and get in on some of that keg before it's empty.” He nodded towards the bar.

“Didn’t expect the mother chapter to have a shortage.” Donut snorted, looking between Tig, and Sydney who was in an intense staredown with Happy - deciding that leaving the couple to their own devices for a few minutes while he gathered some intel on what the fuck was going on, probably wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. “Guess I better get a move on, then.” He clapped the curly-haired man on the shoulder before motioning for Happy to follow him inside.

Sydney felt Tig’s hand snake around her waist as they watched the two men make their way through the crowd that parted for them without a second thought, but she felt no comfort in his possessive grip, because she knew that was all it was - possessive. She stole a glance at his expression as his eyes remained glued to their kuttes - the vein in his neck protruding as his teeth ground harshly together. 

Tig tightened his grip on her as he focused on the feeling of her silky garment between his calloused fingers as he mustered up all of his strength to finally try and push past the mental block. “My angel…” He purred as he turned to face her, sliding his hands down her sides in a way that sent goosebumps breaking out across his skin. Good start. “You didn’t tell me you’d be wearing this …” He mused as his eyes raked over her form, really taking in all of the delicious details now that he had her in his grasp.

“You didn’t ask.” She pulled her diamond-embellished eyes away, refusing to return the embrace as people stared from every direction - confirmation that his sudden willingness to act was only an effort to ward off other men; he could make sure that everybody knew what property belonged to him, but he couldn’t bother to maintain it.

“I have to ask about these things now?” He raised a brow, reestablishing eye contact as he pulled her in tighter.

“No.” She balled her fists against his chest, pushing back slightly. “But maybe if you’d thought to pay even a shred of attention these last few weeks, you wouldn’t have had to.” She sneered, meeting his eyes with a ferocity that was only enhanced by the glitter that surrounded them before she finally broke away.

And that was exactly what he’d needed - that anger, that spark . He felt the ignition of the familiar flames beginning to warm his stagnant heart and chilled veins, a sinister smile coming to his face. What better way to step back into the dynamic that they knew best than by going back to their roots? This was the perfect opportunity to show her that she hadn’t been wrong in giving him a second chance.

♕

Chapter Text

http://aravenamongcrows. (ask and submissions are open!!)

https://www.instagram.com/m.s.alexis/

♕

“Alright man, enough of the shit.” Donut rumbled in that low, throaty voice as his hand swallowed Happy’s bony shoulder - yanking him around to face him. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Get the fuck off me.” Happy scowled, easily flinging the bigger man off of him as his eyes darkened and his lip turned up as the ‘fight’ portion of his ‘fight or flight’ mode kicked in - the mode that he had become unfamiliar with.

“Nah.” Donut shook his head, his waved locks falling against his broad shoulders as he walked the bald man backwards so that he couldn’t dodge his questions any longer. “I let this shit slide when she was in the hospital - let you ignore it while you hid in Tacoma, I aint doin it anymore. Not when our girl is out there looking like that.” He angrily thrusted his finger towards the door.

“Like what?” Happy tried weakly, but he knew exactly what the brawny man meant.

“ Sad . Pining for some fucking loser’s attention.” Donut sneered in frustration. “We taught her better than that. What the hell are you doing letting this happen?”

“I aint letting shit happen!” Happy yelled, his usually low voice raising loud enough to draw some attention from onlookers - but his threatening glare quickly scared them off.

“You’re the only one she listens to.” Donut countered, holding his pitch black gaze as he waited for a reaction that he knew wouldn’t come from the infamously stoic man. “Well then you better start talkin’, or I’m gonna have to find out from her.” He challenged.

Happy stood still for a moment, contemplating the beating that he would be subjected to if Donut found out why they were no longer on speaking terms . “Go ahead.” He decided with a curt nod. If there was one thing that he still knew about Sydney, it was that she had pride ; she would never be able to look one of her oldest friends in the face and tell him the truth about what had happened - even if it was just her skewed perception that she refused to let him correct - especially if she was having more problems with Tig. And more problems with Tig might’ve just been exactly what he’d needed to be able to work his way back into the void in her heart that the Sergeant couldn’t seem to fill…

♕

Sydney stayed close to Half-Sack’s side as the evening progressed, grateful that their matching costumes provided her an excuse to linger around the only man who seemed to value her presence these days. She sat atop a picnic table with a few croweaters who had thrown together some last minute costumes once they saw that dressing up wasn’t completely out of the question now that the young girl was around to set the tone, feeling herself getting tipsier and tipsier as she sipped on her third beer of the night - the sounds of the blaring music and babbling girls beginning to fade as the familiarly toxic boldness set in and brought her eyes wandering to Tig who lingered behind Clay and Gemma.

Tig felt his heart stop and his body shudder when he caught her staring him down from across the lot, looking so fucking good where she sat so angry because of him . Surprisingly, after months of hating himself for all of the horrible feelings that he had plagued her with, the thought of being able to anger her this intensely made his dick twitch - another feeling that he’d begrudgingly grown unaccustomed to. 

It wasn’t like he was a foreigner to her wrath - the two had become closely acquainted - but something about seeing her with Donut had uncrossed whatever wires had unintentionally gotten tangled in his brain since Donna’s death; and for that, he was eternally grateful.

The brief moment of what Tig prayed was sexual tension was broken when the black Ford that they had all been waiting for finally pulled onto the lot, allowing himself to grin as the barrage of cheers arose for their guest of honour. 

Sydney looked away as Tig joined in on the celebratory greeting where Bobby was practically yanked out of the unmarked police car by Precious, too busy listening in on the conversation going on behind her between Piney and Opie.

“It’s Halloween.” Piney sneered to his son who remained silent. “You know, I don’t give a shit how bad you feel. You need to pull that sad little head out of your ass and go be a father… I’m tired of carrying your damn water, boy.”

“Love you too, Pop…” Opie responded with what she was sure was a sarcastic smile laced with shame.

She wanted to giggle, to snicker, to find amusement in the blunt truth that the grieving man needed to hear, and the old man had no problem giving - but as the words hit her ears, she found her eyes being drawn back to Tig, and suddenly she felt a world of resentment that she had been working tirelessly to push down. If he had just been honest with her from the start - if she would’ve caught on seconds earlier, Opie’s kids wouldn’t be spending their favorite holiday, parentless, and she wouldn’t be spending it, hopeless.

♕

Donut remained at the bar as the crowd surrounded their most recent jailbird, chuckling as he watched the overweight man downing shots between bites of greasy food - thoroughly enjoying every second of his homecoming. He turned his attention away from the Northern Cali celebration, indulging in one of their celebrators instead; a cute brunette wearing a pair of cat ears who slid him another beer with a wink. He accepted the beverage gratefully, tipping it her way as he shot her a wink of his own - pressing himself up against the bar as the party began to move inside and the room began to fill.

He spotted Sydney among the sea of black leather easily, a smile coming to his face as his honey-coloured eyes grazed over her ethereal display that would be described as anything but holy . “Comin’ to give me my three wishes?” He raised a brow once she was close enough - stealing her attention before it could drift to where Happy sat on a couch across the room with his arms crossed silently.

“That’s a genie.” She rolled her eyes, the giggle escaping her throat a little easier with the alcoholic lubrication.

“Ah.” He swatted the air. “I bet I could still get 'em if I rubbed you the right way.” He grinned wolfishly as his thick fingers dug into her thinly covered ribs, holding her against him as her knees immediately buckled. Tickling had always been her weakness.

Sydney squealed, kicked, and laughed until, amongst her flailing, she managed to lock eyes with Tig who appeared in the doorway. The reality of the situation punched her in the gut as she pulled herself from the large hands that suddenly felt like they were suffocating her, steadying herself against the bar as she regained her composure - contemplating whether or not another drink would help her push past the awkward and unfamiliar feeling that now buzzed beneath her skin. The impulsive, self-destructive side of her brain said fuck yes , but the logical side refused to let her forget what had happened the last time that she’d tried using that coping mechanism in the arms of a man that she didn’t belong to.

But that was when they weren’t together. “Hey, Jess!” She called to the petite woman who turned to face her with a smile. “Two tequilas, please .” She grinned sweetly. She may have felt like she’d already lost Tig, but she wasn’t going to lose herself, too - not again. 

“What about me?” Donut pouted beside her, determined to break down the wall that he could see she was trying to build. 

“Is that one of your wishes?” She looked up at him with a raised brow, a smirk tugging at her sparkly lips.

As if on cue, the song that usually would’ve sent Sydney bolting to the dancefloor began punching through the tension-thickened air - sending her heart on its final descent to the bottom of her stomach. She cleared her throat, avoiding Donut’s knowing eyes as he raised a brow. “Dance with me?” She slid him one of her shots as she lifted the other one to her lips.

“Thought this was your song with Hap?” Donut finally saw his opportunity for answers as the trashy latin song blared through the speakers. 

“Not anymore.” Sydney growled, feeling her wandering eyes being regrettably drawn towards Happy as he looked at her, half-expectantly from across the crowded room that seemed to be lined with souvenirs of her failure, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. “Why?” Her head snapped back towards him as the frustration became overwhelming. “Don’t think you can keep up?” She challenged. 

Donut sighed as he looked between a brooding Happy, a threatening Tig, and a desperate Sydney. “You know they’re both going to kick my ass, right?” 

“Eh.” She shrugged as she looked tentatively over her shoulder at the two men who had refused to show her an ounce of interest in the past months. “It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.” She winked - the playful expression faltering as she felt a small pinch in her badly bruised heart. Donut had always known what it was that she needed in her regretful moments of vulnerability, and he never held it against her - or brought attention to it.

Donut snorted, shaking his head with a smile. “You sure that leg’s healed up enough? I think you are going to be the one having a hard time keeping up with me .” He nodded to her thigh that brandished the scar proudly, and in the most Sydney way possible: tanned, and covered in glitter.

“Only one way to find out…” She mused as she lifted her hand, willing herself not to think about why she was doing what she was doing, and just enjoy it, as she would’ve been able to had this been any other day.

He led her to the dancefloor, assuming the proper position to her favorite dance with their chests pressed together and her hands in his as the beat began to pick up. She closed her eyes as she waited for the chorus to drop, focusing on nothing but the feeling of the rhythm that mingled with the alcohol and pushed a smile to her face when he began spinning her around. She grinned and giggled as he twirled her expertly - almost as good as Happy did. But as that comparison entered her mind, she could feel herself slowly falling out of tune, her eyes managing to catch his across the room even as she was spun around rapidly. 

Donut frowned when he felt her beginning to shrink in his arms for the second time tonight, yanking her back to face him where he began moving his hips theatrically in time with hers. 

Sydney giggled again, unable to stop herself from mimicking the movements now that she had the extra encouragement to get back into the flow. She spun herself back around as the song slowed down - grateful for her friend who was able to set his masculinity aside to make sure that she had a good time. That was something that Happy would never be able to do. 

The pair finished the song off strong - attracting the kind of attention that Sydney was used to as she hit every single beat while she spun, stepped, grinded, and twirled. “Thank you…” She whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck - a feat that still required her to stand on her tiptoes even in the ridiculously high heels.

Donut hugged her back, but he didn’t release her as the next song began. “He giving you trouble again?” He asked tenderly as he kept her back to Tig while he stared daggers at the dark-haired man.

“He’s been through a lot, D.” Sydney sighed, feeling much less sensitive about the subject now that the discomfort of his touch had faded away - thankful that her tolerance had been built up enough to feel loose after the amount that she’d had to drink, and not belligerent the way that she’d been with Jax.. .

“And you haven’t?” He pulled away, looking down at her with a scowl.

Sydney said nothing as she pulled her eyes away from his slightly blurry form, looking straight ahead at the ‘Road Captain’ flash on his chest instead.

“Why are you putting up with this, Syd?” He asked earnestly this time as she avoided his questioning gaze with a look that had him fearing the answer.

“You don’t get it.” She shook her head, a lump forming in her throat that suddenly felt far too dry.

“No, I don’t.” He nodded, catching her chin in his hand as he forced her eyes back to his. “I don’t get why my fierce, ferocious Kitty Cat is letting some flea-bag put a collar on her.” He mused with a playful smile that he hoped would help her realize that his inquisitions were harmless.

Sydney giggled, the threatening ache in her neck beginning to subside. “It’s not him, it’s…” She sighed as she looked around the room that she no longer knew her place in. “ This .”

“Life of a Son, honey bun.” He winked. He knew that she wasn’t being completely truthful, but he didn’t feel the deceptive tense in her muscles when she’d answered the question, either.

“Yeah.” She chuckled humorlessly. “I guess so...” 

“So.” Donut squeezed her waist as he made to change the subject - hoping to bring her back to the normalcy that he had temporarily been able to remind her of. “You gonna pay up for that lapdance?” He raised a brow, tossing a smirk in Tig’s direction. Surely that would be enough to kick the asshole back into gear.

“I am a woman of my word…” She mused with a smirk of her own.

“Better be.” He nodded. “You didn’t even call me on my birthday, so that’s good for two.”

“Deal.” She chuckled, taking his hand and leading him to the closest chair.

Tig stayed firmly planted in place as he watched Sydney’s every move as she climbed into the Tacoma man’s lap and grinded against him as if her life depended on it for not one, but two songs - his grip getting tighter around the beer bottle in his hand, and his kutte getting heavier over his heaving chest as his eyes darkened.

“Man… Who is that?” He heard from beside him, not bothering to look over and see who was asking because it didn’t matter.

“My old lady…” A growl rumbled through his dry lips before he sucked them between his teeth in a hiss as his pants tightened and a grin came to his face. He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t angry. He was aroused . And now he had a primal need to take back what belonged to him in the way that he knew she wanted - in the way that would fix everything.

The intoxication had hit at the perfect time and Sydney was able to completely lose herself in the moment and give the performance of a lifetime, thoroughly following through on her promise. She blinked her eyes open as the final song ended, a sinister smile coming to her flushed face as the enthralled crowd came into view. She tossed Donut a wink as she got to her feet, smirking at the sea of onlookers before she felt herself being hauled into a pair of familiar arms that couldn’t possibly have felt more foreign. 

“You bad girl…” Tig purred as his hands smoothed down her sides. “Now you’re comin’ with me…” He whispered against her temple.

“What about me, Princess? You missed my birthday too.” Bobby hollered with an expectant shrug. 

“Yeah! Me too!” Juice chimed in, feeling a little too bold next to his much bigger brother.

Sydney fought the urge to cringe under the hassling that yanked her right back down from the pedestal that she had managed to crawl her way up - desperately searching for the comfort that she used to feel in Tig’s arms as she noticed that they weren’t the only ones who seemed to be amused by the drama as the fascination on the faces of her spectators began to turn to judgment as they watched her hop from Son to Son. 

“You know how I can tell they’re fighting?” Bobby leaned over to Juice, mumbling just loud enough that Sydney was able to hear.

“How?” Juice scowled.

“They aint covered in hickeys.” He laughed heartily, shoving another roll into his mouth.

Sydney stiffened as the dreadful rush of embarrassment crashed through her quickly eroding veins, once again. She had always taken pride in how affectionate they were - no matter how many people had tried to tell her that she shouldn’t - but she now realized that the problem with having such a public, passionate relationship was that everybody could tell when something was off.

“You just wanna hide me away so that nobody else can look at me.” She spit out as she whipped her head back towards Tig, ignoring the dizziness from the sudden movement as she met his eyes with a hardened glare. “I know that you don’t wanna fuck me any more than you did this morning.” Her lower lip trembled as she delivered the equally venomous statement in a lower tone this time.

“Baby…” Tig winced. He hadn’t exactly thought that rekindling such a raging blaze would be easy , but he had hoped that the heat of the moment would’ve at least warmed the coals. “You know that’s not tru-”

“Tig!” The frantic voice cut off his plea, turning to see Half-Sack standing in the doorway, pointing to the dark Mercedes cruising through the parting crowd.

Sydney didn’t let up on her stare as his brows furrowed, breaking away once he regained eye contact - making her way outside to see what the cause for concern was with him hot on her heels.

“What the hell is this?” Clay mumbled from the doorway where he was standing with Gemma, his scowl getting deeper and deeper as he realized that the familiar looking vehicle was not silver like Rosen’s - it was black. He pressed his hand to his wife’s chest to keep her back, nodding to his Sergeant as the two began making their way towards the gate to greet their unexpected guests.

Sydney was too distracted by the unknown identities of the two men who stepped out of the fancy car to notice that Happy had followed them outside, and was walking next to her where she followed closely behind Tig and Clay. 

“Garage is closed.” Clay called out to the pair of middle-aged men who met his threatening strides with a confidence that he did not appreciate - especially on his own turf.

“We’re not here for car repairs.” A suited man with grey hair answered, holding out a small box to the outlaw President. “I understand you’re a Camacho fan.” He forced a smile.

Sydney scowled as two more men got out of the vehicle - these ones not dressed nearly as sharp as their more eager counterparts. She took a few steps closer as footsteps closed in around her - the thick crowd of bikers clearly joining her in feeling as if this was a threat.

“Who are you?” Clay raised a brow. 

“Oh!” The man who had given him the box perked up, peering around him to look at Sydney. “I see you are in the presence of the Cali Queen.” He nodded his greeting - the greeting that he shouldn’t have known to use.

Sydney’s forehead creased as the sound of a cocking gun filled her ears, watching out of the corner of her eye as Happy stepped in front of her.

“Oh, and the Tacoma Killer.” He taunted with another moniker that he shouldn’t have known about - temporarily tabling Sydney’s indifference towards Happy as they shared a side-eyed glance of concern.

“What do you want?” Clay asked as he studied the box of cigars from the cocky man who had yet to reveal his cards - but he could tell that by the extensive research that he’d done, he was about to go all in. 

“Just dropping by to give you a little friendly advice.” The shorter, balder, and beadier-eyed man answered, leaning in front of his boss as he handed Clay a business card.

“And what advice would that be?” Clay raised a brow as he turned the ‘League of American Nationalists’ card between his fingers, looking up with a sarcastic smile.

“We feel it would be best for all concerned if you stopped dealing arms to the One-Niners and the Mayans.” The taller man nodded confidently.

Clay, Tig, Happy, and anybody else who was in earshot all began laughing after a second’s hesitation. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about…” Clay looked around at his crew as they too feigned confusion. “We’re just mechanics, and Harley lovers.”

But Sydney didn’t bother trying to make them think that they had it all wrong, because as she scanned over who their entourage was made up of, it became clear to her that they knew that they didn’t.

“Balls heal up good, Izzy?” She called to the tall bald man standing beside the sleek sedan with his arms crossed in front of him.

“You wanna find out, Princess?” He let out a menacing grin before Tig cut it short, pulling out his gun next as he took a step forward. 

“Are you going to shoot him, Mr. Trager?” Suit-man mock-pouted, leaning forward where his right-hand pulled him back. “With all these witnesses?” 

Tig stared all four men down harshly as he seriously contemplated the question that felt more personal than it should’ve - but he couldn’t tell if that was his guilt talking or not.

Sydney cursed her deprived body that was no longer operating under the ignorant veil of intoxication as her thighs instinctually pressed together as she watched Tig in full Sergeant mode, in full old man mode - a mode that he no longer allowed her to claim.  

“Darby’s guy.” Tig mumbled by way of explanation as Clay stepped forward.

“Mr. Darby is one of our supporters.” The man nodded.

“Mm.” Clay nodded, both unamused and unsurprised - waltzing out in front of Tig and rounding his new rivals in a circle as he sized them up. “Expensive car, hell of a suit, all your teeth… You must be at the top of the Aryan food chain, huh?” He mused with a raise of his brows.

“What you do for a living is between you and your maker.” Zobelle felt himself beginning to shake with anger. “I’m not here to adjust your ‘moral compass’.” He mocked. “This is just a reality check - you’re a criminal and you’re done selling guns to color.”

“Look, uh…” Clay sighed. “I don’t know what Darby told you, and uh - I don’t know what your angle is… But let me be real clear - nobody threatens SAMCRO. And nobody tells us what we can and can’t do… Black, brown, or white. ” He narrowed his eyes. “So why don’t you climb back into your little German clown car and drive on back to Nazi town. Because next time you come onto my property, and piss on my shoes? He will kill you.” He nodded to Tig. “And I don’t give a shit how many witnesses there are.”

“My shop opens in a few weeks.” The man nodded to the box in Clay’s hand. “Until then? Enjoy.” He gave a curt nod and a polite smile, retreating back to his vehicle and disappearing as quickly as he’d shown up.

Sydney took the opportunity to make her escape while everybody was distracted by their mystery guests, slipping away from the Sons who crowded Clay as they tried to figure out what the fuck had just happened. She rounded the clubhouse, making her way to her car that she had sensibly decided to park along the street before the sizable party began - hearing nothing but the hollow sounds of her heavy shoes against the pavement, bouncing off of the concrete building and echoing in her ringing ears.

“Syd!” She heard behind her, the desperate plea only adding to the bleak reality of each step that she took.

“Hey, hey.” Half-Sack finally caught up to her - a challenging task even in her ridiculously high heels. “Sydney, wait.” He reached out and grabbed her arm gently, bracing himself for the same reaction that he’d gotten the last time that he’d done that.

“I’m fucking humiliated Kip, please.” Sydney begged as a sob clawed painfully up her throat.

“Don’t cry.” Half-Sack shook his head, placing his hands on her trembling biceps once he was confident that he wasn’t going to be slapped. “You’ll ruin your makeup.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter.” She shook her head. “He doesn’t care.”

Half-Sack winced as his heart clenched painfully for his friend that he wished he knew how to comfort. “You know there isn’t a single guy here that wouldn’t kill to be with you…” He tried, uttering the sincere words with as much conviction as he possibly could.

“I don’t give a shit about anyone else.” She choked out, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. “I only want it from him.”

“It’ll come back, Syd…” He pressed on. “You know shit’s just tense right now - Bobby, Donna. But we’re gonna get through it.” 

“Look around, Kip…" She whispered shakily as she looked over his shoulder at the mass of black leather that didn’t have a single concern for her absence. “I don’t belong here…”

Half-Sack refused to turn around, because he knew it would only prove the point that she was trying to make - the point that he wished would be easier to argue. 

“And please don’t tell me that I do… We both know it’s a lie.” Her pained voice barely uttered out the plea. 

“He’s your old man… Doesn’t that mean something?” He asked quietly. She - and others - may not have thought that she belonged as a member, but surely she knew that she belonged as an old lady?

“I don’t know anymore…” She told him what she only wished was a lie, hanging her head as they both stood silently under the crushing weight of the truth. 

“Do you miss her?” Half-Sack’s eyes flew open - ripping him from the frantic search for the right thing to say that had inadvertently closed them in the first place. He felt a shiver rippling under his skin as her long nails grazed his chest, finally processing her words as she realized that she was stroking the tiny pendant that sat around his neck.

Sydney sighed when his saddened eyes fell closed in response. “I miss him too…” She nodded as she ran her fingers over the ring on her thumb. 

She missed Tig more than she had ever missed anything in her life. She missed his hands, his lips, his love . She missed him more than she missed Happy, and she missed him even more than she missed her dad. Because at least Happy and her dad were gone - she had a reason to miss them. But she had no reason to miss somebody that slept next to her every night.

♕

Chapter Text

http://aravenamongcrows. (ask and submissions are open!!)

https://www.instagram.com/m.s.alexis/

♕

Happy stood alone on the sidelines of the party that had picked back up since their unwelcome visitors had departed, watching the gates to the compound like a hawk where he refused to let any more threats slip past him - especially threats that had clearly been anticipating his protection. 

“You seen Syd?” He heard behind him, turning to see an uncharacteristically meek looking Tig.

“No.” He grunted, thinking back to what Donut had said as he turned away. He had been much more concerned with how Sydney had felt about him, than how she’d felt about Tig - and any signs that he had noticed that pointed to the fact that they were having problems were ones that he hadn’t been able to trust weren’t just being made up by his hopeful conscience. But as Tig moped around the compound like a lost puppy that had been kicked and abandoned - he felt a selfish twinge of relief.

“What’s going on with you guys?” Tig decided to seize the forbidden opportunity that he had hoped for months ago, now that Sydney was nowhere in sight. He was desperate to show her that every horrible thing that she was thinking, was far from the truth - and he meddling in their relationship might just be what would help save his.

“Not your business.” Happy rasped, not bothering to face the man who was forcing his jaw further and further into place.

“She’s my old lady.” Tig nodded calmly. “I care about her, she cares about you. So, yeah… It’s my business.”

Happy hesitated, but he felt the muscles in his neck beginning to relax when the notoriously hot-tempered Sergeant kept his cool. They were definitely having problems. “Said something I shouldn’t have.” He turned his head to the side, not quite meeting his eyes. 

“You try to fix it?” Tig squinted as he placed his hands on his hips.

“Yes.” Happy spit out, whipping his head back around.

“Well, you should try harder, man… She needs you.” He decided to leave it at that. He knew that a fight wouldn’t be the answer here - as much as he wished that it would be - instead relying on the strategic use of words that he had never relied on before, and had undoubtedly picked up from Sydney.

Happy scowled as the words hit his ears and made him twitch, forcing himself to remain standing in place until he was sure that Tig was gone. He was right, he did need to try harder - and he would.

♕

Sydney blinked open her heavy eyes that had been weighed down by the alcohol, the tears, and the glitter - gripping her steering wheel harder as she waited for the blurry red light above her to turn green. She took a deep breath as she let her eyes fall closed again, bouncing her head back against the worn black leather of the headrest until she felt her halo beginning to tilt, exhaling slowly as she opened her eyes back up to adjust it before it could fall. 

Once it was back in place, she reached for her phone - sighing when she unlocked it to see that she had no new messages or missed calls inquiring about her untimely departure from the party, just the gut-wrenching, stomach-turning, tear-jerking photos of her and Tig from the fair that she had set as her lock screen. She gripped the phone tightly in her hand as it began to shake, whipping it down on the seat next to her and turning her head back towards the still red light that was now ten red lights. 

She blinked a few times, reaching for her pack of cigarettes in hopes that some nicotine would help her sober up enough to complete the drive to Cara Cara - her eyes falling closed as the smoke invaded her airway and cauterized the ends of her fried nerves. She let her eyes stay closed for a few seconds as she revelled in the sliver of peace, but when she finally pried them open, the light hadn’t changed.

“Jesus.” She rolled her eyes - another unsavory action that made her head spin. She took another drag, reaching for the knob on the radio which immediately began pumping out one of the cheesy country songs that she and Tig used to dance to in her kitchen. “Ugh!” She slammed her fist against the knob - the thin, worn plastic threatening to crack as the music came to an abrupt stop and left her in a deafening silence. She heaved as she kept her head down and her hand against the dashboard, peeking up through her white-tipped eyelashes to see that the light was still red.

It almost became comical to her at that point - chuckling through her haze as she contemplated running it. She knew that she could almost surely make it without a problem - the small town didn’t bother with trap cameras, and by that time the streets were free of trick-or-treaters who were now fighting their parents about bedtime as they bounced off of the walls after the largest sugar rush of the year, and she had done much worse than run a red light. But with her luck lately, David Hale would speed out from behind a building where he had been waiting to arrest her, and she wasn’t sure that she had anybody to call to bail her out anymore.

Deciding against flirting with the possibility of a DUI while they were still under ATF’s microscope - something she hadn’t cared to consider during her haste to get off of the compound and away from the judgment - she took another long puff on her cigarette as she reached for her phone again, quickly swiping past the lock screen and into her settings where she changed it to a photo of some black roses. She pressed the lock button, then pressed it again, the glass screen lighting up with the dark image instead of the light one that she had been used to seeing for months. The absence of the familiar sight hurt, but the bitter reminder that its presence provided, hurt more.

She sighed as she held down the power button on the phone, watching the screen go completely black before she set it down on the seat more gently this time - looking up to see that the light had finally turned green, just in time as headlights appeared in her rearview mirror.

♕

Maya almost rolled her eyes when the blonde girl standing on the opposite side of the bar ordered a double vodka-cran. She chortled to herself as she reached for a short glass, filling it with ice before adding two shots of vodka, and topping it off with cranberry juice - a routine that she had repeated more than one hundred times tonight, if she had to guess.

“Here you go.” She popped a straw into the red drink and slid it to the ditsy looking girl dressed as a playboy bunny - another sight that she had seen far too many times tonight.

Ima raised a brow at the short-haired bartender, swiping the drink from her ungrateful, unmanicured hand. “Smile, sweetheart. It’ll get ya further in life.” She gave her a condescending wink before strutting back off towards her group without leaving a tip.

Maya sucked in a breath as she fought the anger bubbling in her chest, gritting her teeth and gripping the countertop before she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Easy, Tiger.” Clayton chuckled, calming his pitbull of an employee. “I brought you because I thought you could handle these girls.” He quirked an eyebrow. Any of the other girls from his parents’ bar would’ve jumped at the opportunity for the extra cash that came with the rare exclusive and prestigious gig - especially in a town as small as Charming - but none of them had the expertise on how to handle an out-of-line customer quite like Maya did; he’d thought that pornstars would’ve been a cakewalk for her.

“I can.” Maya growled to her manager who loved to tease her at the worst of times, whipping around where she grabbed her jacket and stomped outside. He could tend to the bitchy broads on his own for a few minutes if it was so easy, it was time for a much needed smoke break. 

Once she made it out the heavy metal door of the warehouse-style building, she took a cleansing breath of late-autumn air with no regard for the chill that tickled the back of her throat, because at least she could breathe . She hadn’t realized just how stuffy it had been inside the low-lit Halloween party, but she supposed that was what an abundance of fog machines and cheap perfume would do to a girl who was only accustomed to the smell of beer and cigars.

She sparked up a cigarette, glancing around the cluster of industrial buildings that looked all but abandoned at the late hour, a feeling that became increasingly creepier the more that she realized she was the only person around for what had to be miles - at least she hoped.

She wrapped her leather jacket around her small frame, clutching it tightly as she quickly smoked the cigarette that was supposed to calm her down, but only seemed to have put her more on edge. She forced herself to relax, taking another deep breath of crisp, October air when her entire body jolted at the sudden sound of a loud car - startling her from her already disrupted haze and sending her cigarette tumbling to the pavement. 

“God dammit.” She grumbled, crouching down to pick up the half-smoked cylinder that laid burning by her boots, sending a steady stream of smoke up into the air.

She didn’t intend on smoking the rest - an item from the ground of a porn studio was one of the few things that she wouldn’t put into her mouth - but she knew that one of these girls would surely let her boss know exactly who had left it, tainting their perfectly manicured industrial lot . 

She snorted at the thought, stamping the glowing ember against the pavement as she heard the same loud car getting closer, eventually turning onto the property - suddenly glad that she was low to the ground. She watched as a black car pulled into a vacant parking space before yet another blonde exited the vehicle. This one was dressed in a slutty angel costume - she hadn’t seen one of those yet tonight, which was probably a good thing because it surely would’ve started a catfight. Which, the more she thought about it, might just make her night a little more worthwhile… 

But she was pulled from the amusing fantasy of skinny girls throwing drinks and pulling hair by a new sound - a sound that, a few short months ago, she would’ve been excited to hear. But now it was a sound that was unfamiliar, a sound that sent a wave of both dread and excitement through her stomach and into her core. It was the sound of a motorcycle. 

She abandoned her worry about the damn cigarette, scurrying to her feet and slipping back inside before she could see who the sound belonged to - because she wasn’t sure that she wanted to know. 

♕

Tig sat at the bar among the commotion of the wild party, tapping his beer bottle repeatedly against the countertop as he searched the room for any sign of Sydney - the sound of her voice or the smell of her perfume. But once again, he came up empty handed. He sighed, lifting the bottle to his lips where he drained it - at least with how drunk she had already been, he knew that she would be staying in the safety of the clubhouse tonight.

“How you holdin’ up, Tigger?” He heard the gentle voice that accompanied the comforting hand on his shoulder, looking over to see Gemma sliding into the now empty stool next to him, which had been quickly abandoned by whoever her presence had scared away. 

“Hey, Gem.” His forced smile came a little more naturally for his old friend, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. “You want a drink?” He looked around for the croweater that had been serving him just minutes ago, finding her at the end of the bar in a full blown liplock with Donut - a sight that helped calm him down a bit because although he didn’t know where Sydney had gone off to, at least he knew that she wasn’t with him. 

“I’m okay.” Gemma shook her head, holding up her keys. “Gonna head out.” 

“Okay.” Tig nodded, placing his hand on the small of her back. “I’ll walk you to your car.” He began leading her through the crowd that hardly required her an escort - everybody in attendance knowing not to stand in the way of the queen.

“Didn’t think you’d still be standing by this time.” She snorted as they crossed the threshold.

“Eh, been layin’ off the booze lately…” He grimaced. 

Gemma frowned. She wished that she could’ve been glad to hear that, and on any other day, she would’ve been. But she knew that this wasn’t a quality of life choice - the only reason that he hadn’t been drowning his demons in whiskey was because Sydney had .

“You do me a favor?” She looked over with a raised brow as they approached her Caddy.

“Of course.” Tig nodded dutifully. 

“Don’t do that shit tonight.” She shook her head. “Have fun… You deserve it.” She narrowed her eyes pointedly. “You both deserve it.” She pulled him into a hug as he processed the words that she wouldn’t dare say out loud - not here. 

Tig nodded as he realized what it was that she was trying to say - the hints that she was dropping. It had been no secret that she was privy to the real reason that he was struggling, but they had never discussed it directly, instead sticking to cryptic conversations like the one that they were having right now.

“Okay…I’ll try.” He decided as she got into her car,  - not that he’d really needed much convincing. “You have fun too.” 

“I’ve already had my fun.” She scoffed. “It’s time for grandma to head to bed.” 

“Okay.” Tig chuckled. “Want me to have the prospect follow you home?” He looked around for the bright red beanpole among the hoards of black leather, half-hoping that he would find Sydney with him. 

“I’m fine, Tiggy.” Gemma widened her eyes. 

“Okay.” Tig backed away with his hands up. He knew that look all too well. “You get home safe.” 

“You too.” She added with one final nod before she pulled her door closed, hoping for both him and Sydney’s sake that she had done enough to help push him past whatever restraint he’d been keeping on himself.

♕

Returning to her post feeling much less concerned about the pornstars and more about the company that they kept, Maya scanned the room as a subtle jitter began to build under her skin. She hadn’t seen or heard from Happy in months, and she had stopped driving by the clubhouse ever since she had seen him with her - whoever she was. 

She had no idea what she wanted; if she wanted to see him, if she didn’t want to see him. But as her green eyes roamed the colorful crowd for the darkness of his black leather that the blacklights wouldn’t illuminate, she came up empty handed - and the feeling of deflation gave her the undeniable answer. 

“You okay?” She looked up to see Clayton’s usually playful brown eyes looking down at her with concern.

“Yeah.” She shrugged it off, pouring herself a glass of whiskey because clearly the cigarette had done nothing to calm her nerves. “Just thought I saw someone I know.” She explained after pouring a hearty swig down her throat.

“I don’t think you want to be knowing anybody here.” He snorted, leaving her to tend to the party.

Yeah, maybe… Maya bit her lip as she continued surveying the crowd, almost grateful for the distraction when she spotted the same girl from the parking lot, making her way towards the bar. Here we go again , she thought as she reached for the cranberry juice.

“Hi.” The blonde greeted her - something that none of the other blondes had cared to do. “I’ll have a teq-” She stopped, eyeing the glass of whiskey sitting next to her modestly ring-adorned hand. “I’ll have one of those.” 

Maya blinked in surprise when she ordered a real drink, reaching for the short glasses where she snuck a glance at the girl who stood before her, looking at the ground. She looked familiar, but she had no idea how. It was a small town - or maybe she had just seen too many bimbos tonight to keep track… But this girl looked sad - and not the kind of sad that came from showing up to a party in the same costume as another girl who had forced her to go home and change. Besides, she would’ve remembered her only encounter with somebody who wasn’t high on their own self-righteousness and whatever else . 

“Here.” She slid her two glasses, full to the brim - offering a sympathetic smile.

“Thanks.” Sydney nodded to the little blonde bartender gratefully, pulling a few bills out of her purse.

“Oh my god!” The moment was cut off by a high-pitched squealing that made Maya cringe. “I didn’t think you were coming!” Lyla screamed as she emerged from the crowd in a sexy nurse costume.

“Neither did I.” Sydney grumbled, forcing a laugh as she hugged her friend - hoping to absorb even a fraction of her excitement. 

The urge to roll her eyes buzzed once again in the back of Maya’s brain, swiping an empty glass off of the bartop with a huff - but when she turned back around, the two blondes were gone, and there was a hefty tip sitting next to her drink.

♕

Happy wasn’t sure what he had expected when he’d followed Sydney to Cara Cara, but he supposed that he’d never expected to have had to follow her there in the first place. Half-Sack had told him when he’d interrogated him about her whereabouts, that she’d taken to spending a large amount of her time there, but he’d had a hard time believing that she would choose the prissy pornstars over the life that she had always known and loved - especially now that she finally had her foot in the door. But as he approached his second hour and eighth cigarette while waiting for her in the parking lot, he realized that it didn’t matter if he believed it or not, because it was the truth. And it was a truth that confirmed everything he had been pondering since he’d set foot back in Charming - something had gone on here since he’d left, and he needed to find out what.

He slid a toothpick between his teeth in place of yet another cigarette, begrudgingly stuffing his dwindling pack into the pocket of his kutte before pushing himself off of his bike and making his way inside. He didn’t do as little as blink as he passed by the security guards that didn’t dare give him any problems, his dark eyes quickly adjusting to the fluorescent glow of the black lights - scanning the large room full of scantily-clad women. He squinted slightly, ignoring a dark haired girl who had asked him a question that he hadn’t bothered to listen for, finally landing on a pair of green eyes among the crowd. But they weren’t Sydneys, they were Maya’s.

Maya froze when she saw him, almost dropping the wet glass that she had been drying. She blinked a few times, trying to figure out if her mind was just playing tricks on her through the liquor and the shadows. She had long forgotten about the nerve-pricking sound of the motorcycle, deciding after time had passed and she didn’t see him, that it had just been wishful thinking. But now, as he stood across the room staring her down with those pitch black eyes, she understood why her mother had always warned her to be careful what she wished for.

Happy blinked once under her penetrating gaze, forcing his body to move as if he wasn’t completely stunned by her presence. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say to her - if he was even supposed to say anything at all. It wasn’t like they were together, and conversation had never been his strong suit, especially awkward conversation - but as he caught the white feathers of Sydney’s costume out of the corner of his eye, he realized that he wouldn’t be saying anything at all.

Maya scowled as he walked up to her, staring directly into her soul as he stood on the other side of the bar, wordlessly - just as he had that day at the fair. But that was when they didn’t know each other - he’d had no reason to speak to her then, now was a very different story. 

“Drink?” She snipped impatiently when he just fucking stood there, making it clear that his presence at the porn studio had absolutely nothing to do with her.

“Yeah.” He rasped, glad that she seemed to be on board with the idea that they were to act like strangers.

Maya scoffed, rolling her eyes as she slammed the glass down onto the counter and filled it with Jagermeister - his favorite, sliding it towards him and storming away before he had a chance to not say anything else. She had always assumed that he slept with other women while he was on the road - something that she had come to terms with - but not while he was in town, not while he was so close to her…

When she was finally forced to turn back, she understood why he hadn’t said anything - because he was too busy focusing on the one thing that had always prioritized his attention: Sydney. No wonder the skanky, angel-costume-wearing little tart had looked familiar in a way that she couldn’t place with her white-bleached hair and fake and bake tanned skin. It was the same girl that she had seen him with on the compound that day, the same girl that he had constantly left her in the middle of the night for, the same girl that he’d had her believe was ‘just family’. But the look in his eye wasn’t a look of family, it was a look that told her that she had been right in being worried all along.

♕

A few hours later, Tig found himself thoroughly intoxicated where he stood above Bobby along with Chibs, Juice, and a few other Sons from neighboring charters who had managed to stay awake and keep the party going. The small crowd screamed and cheered as the overweight man flopped down in between the redheaded croweater’s legs - the real homecoming gift that he had been waiting to collect.

“This is the only cage I ever wanna be in ever again.” He mumbled against her as she wrapped her legs around his head.

Tig laughed obnoxiously, tossing back another shot that had somehow found its way into his hand as he stumbled around the room - spinning in circles as he tried to locate the hallway. 

“You can come home with me, baby.” He heard a silky voice beside him, looking down to see a dainty hand on his chest. He blinked a few times, trying to force his rolling eyes into place, but he didn’t have the strength - or the coherence - to turn his head. All he could see was that the hand tarnishing his leather was one that didn’t brandish his ring - and that was all that he needed to see.

“Piss off.” He mumbled, barely making it to the bar where he crawled on top of it and laid his spinning head in a pile of what he hoped was beer as he blacked out with thoughts of Sydney, alone in his bed, swirling in the back of his mind. As soon as he woke up, he was going to make things right. 

♕

Sydney begrudgingly lifted herself to her feet from the couch that she had been sitting on with Lyla. She’d willed her bladder to hold off as soon as she’d spotted Happy lingering outside of their circle, but after the amount she’d dranken, she couldn’t hold it anymore. 

“Want me to come with you?” Lyla asked as Sydney stood before her shakily, handing her a drink to watch in her absence. 

“No, it’s okay, babe. I’ll be right back.” She nodded with a fake smile. This was definitely not a confrontation that she wanted to have in front of an audience. 

She avoided his eyes as she slipped past him with a roll of her own, ignoring him as he followed her through the thinning crowd and down the hallway towards the washrooms - her steady buzz fading with each step that she took.

Happy’s scowl set firmly in place as he walked one pace behind Sydney, eyeing anybody who dared to look at her in the slutty costume that for some reason felt out of character - even for her. He tailed her down the empty hallway, straightening up when she turned to face him with a look behind her eyes that was slightly softer than the fierce, angry fire that he’d seen behind them earlier, but as silent seconds passed them by, he realized that the flames had only been delayed. 

“Been real quiet without you.” He choked out, realizing that he hadn’t at all rehearsed whatever was about to come out of his mouth.

“Just like you wanted.” She spit back.

Happy felt his jaw tightening. “I don’t like this.” He shook his head firmly.

“What?” She asked impatiently.

“Feeling like we don’t know each other…”

“Imagine how I felt.” She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest as he stared her down, attempting to pull the answers from her with that dark gaze that only she could see the light behind - just as he always had. 

“Alright, well.” She perked up studiously as the frustration kicked her back into gear. “If you feel like you’ve missed something on the Sydney show, allow me to give you a recap: my dad died, I got shot, Jax has made it his life’s mission to make sure that I never patch SAMCRO, the only family thatI had left me for dive bar pussy.” She let her feet take her closer to him, one slow, dramatic step at a time. “Oh! And uh, my old man wants nothing to do with me.” She added with a sarcastic smile as she brushed past him and disappeared back into the party. 

♕

Gemma’s heavy eyes rolled into place as she came to after her second blackout, but as soon as she was reminded why she’d blacked out in the first place, she wished that she hadn’t. A tear rolled down her battered cheek as she listened to the sound of the chain link fence that she was being repeatedly slammed against, groaning once she felt herself being turned around.

“We need you to pass on a message to your old man.” The vaguely familiar voice of the masked man in front of her hit her ears, making her stomach turn. Her forehead creased as she searched for some kind of identifying features behind the white Halloween mask, seeing nothing but dark, beady eyes.

“Ple- please…” She begged as he wrapped his hand around her neck. 

“You tell him to stop selling guns to the Niners and the Mayans.” The man ignored her pleas. “Or we find you, and we do this again.” 

Gemma said nothing as her eyes fell to the open buttons on the sweaty man’s shirt, a nazi tattoo sitting proudly on his sternum. But that was all that she could bear to look at as the sound of a zipper filled her ears, and her eyes fell closed once again, begging God for another stint of unconsciousness. 

♕

Chapter Text

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♕

Unser sighed as he made his early morning drive to the station, his weakened eyesight struggling in the low light along Highway 18. But it wasn’t a struggle that worried him, because soon it would be a struggle of the past - a realization that he remained indifferent to. He had no idea what he was going to do once he no longer had a duty to Clay - to Gemma, but he figured that anything had to be better than compromising his morals twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year.

But the brief contemplation of his dwindling responsibilities was halted when the street lights of the old utility building came into view. The sight wasn’t revolutionary by any means, it was the same sight that he had become accustomed to seeing every morning since he had moved out of the family home and onto a lot just outside of town, but what was revolutionary was that this time, it wasn’t that same sight. This time, Gemma’s Cadillac sat parked outside of what was supposed to be an abandoned building. 

He scowled, swerving his squad car off of the road and into the dirt that led to the warehouse that he’d chased kids out of plenty of times, pulling up alongside her pristine black XLR that gave absolutely no explanation as to why it would be there . He stepped out of his vehicle wearily, placing his hand on his gun as he looked around the property that showed no signs of anybody else. Once he was satisfied that he was alone on the premises, he made his way around the vehicles, seeing the same lack of helpful clues on the inside that he did on the outside. He sighed, pulling out his gun as he started up the steps and slid open the rusty old door.

Gemma jerked awake at the sound of the sheet metal screeching against the pavement, her sore eyes blinking rapidly as she tried to pull herself from the bad dream that had her lying in a cold sweat. But as she looked around the empty warehouse and saw her tattered clothing covering the dusty floor along with several bloody footprints, she realized that this had been no bad dream…

She clutched the blanket that had been placed overtop of her half-naked frame when she jolted at another sound, they were coming back. She began to panic, looking up to see that her wrist was no longer chained to the fence. Maybe she could make a break for it.

“Gemma?” She heard the familiar voice - the voice that had been her savior many times...

“Wa-” She tried to call out through the shock, through the fear - a sob escaping her instead. 

“Are you in there?”

“Wayn-” She tried again as tears soaked her face. “Wayne!” The plea finally passed through her trembling lips, burying her face in the blanket as she cried. She knew that he would find her.

♕

Tig woke up in the same unconventional position on top of the bar after only a couple of hours of alcohol-induced sleep. He could tell before he even opened his eyes that he was still thoroughly drunk, and most definitely would not have woken on his own if it hadn’t been for the weight that he could feel settling on top of him. 

He scowled, cracking his blurry eyes open when the warm body finally stopped moving. Sleeping with somebody on top of him wasn’t something that he wasn’t used to - Sydney had learned that it was one of the only ways to keep away the nightmares - but this didn’t feel like Sydney. He could feel that it was a woman - the tits pressed against his chest made that clear - but this woman felt heavier, bulkier; not soft and comforting like Sydney was.

His eyes finally focused below the bar lights that shone above him, looking down to see the mass of familiar white hair. He sighed, relieved that he had just been too intoxicated to realize that it was her after all, but as he placed his hand on her lower back to pull her closer, he recoiled instantly - sending the woman toppling off of him and onto the floor with a bang that shook the entire bar. Bottles rattled and crashed down to the floor on top of her, the sounds waking multiple passed out partons around the room.

Tig growled at the sweetbutt that had sought him out as a mattress where she writhed around on the floor in pain, cradling her fishnet-covered knee. “Be fuckin’ glad it was me and not my old lady.” He slurred, still half asleep as he painstakingly pushed himself up to his elbows. He blinked again, trying to beat the pounding in his head before it could distort his already spotty vision as he swung his legs down off of the bar and launched himself towards his dorm in search of his old lady in question.

He stumbled around unconscious bodies until he finally got to his room, swinging the door open while holding onto the handle that threatened to pull him to the ground - finding that his bed was indeed occupied, but not by Sydney.

“What the fuck?” He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, focusing on the large lump beneath his sheets.

“Five more minutes.” Donut grumbled with a hearty laugh, pulling Jessica closer as she stirred against his chest. 

“What the fuck, man.” Tig shook his now throbbing head, squeezing his eyes shut. “You seen Syd?” He sighed frustratedly as he rubbed his temples.

“Thought that was your job.” Donut smirked with his eyes closed, not bothering to regard the man who clearly needed a lesson in how to treat his woman.

Tig growled, stalking over to the bathroom where he made to slam the door shut behind him - stopping himself just beyond the threshold. “You’re cleaning my fucking sheets.” He snarled, yanking the door shut and starting up a sobering cold shower. He needed to wash the beer from his hair before he could do anything.

He fumbled with the buttons on the shirt beneath his kutte, finally flinging the offending garments to the ground, but his forehead creased when they landed with a thud. It took him a few seconds of digging through the pile of spent clothing, but he finally found what had caused the heavy landing: his phone.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he sat back against the wall, realizing that this would be much easier than going on a wild goose chase, half-awake and half-drunk. Flipping it open, he pressed number one on his speed dial, the gentle trilling of the line lulling him back to sleep.

♕

Unser tapped the steering wheel nervously as he drove a silent, beaten, and bloodied Gemma away from whatever had been done to her in that warehouse - something that had her refusing to unwrap herself from the scratchy blue blanket where she sat in the passenger seat.

“How’d you know I was there?” Gemma choked out, realizing that if she didn’t say something, he would.

“I recognized your car… Then a call came in over the radio while I was inside.”

Gemma felt her brain trying to pull her face into a scowl, but it wouldn’t move. “Anonymous tip?” She surmised.

“Yeah…” Unser only became more confused by her lack of explanation, but abundance of knowledge.

Her eyes trickled down - the only part of her aching body and numbed mind that she had control over. This had been done strategically. They’d wanted her to be found…

Unser narrowed his eyes as she pulled hers away. “You gotta tell me something here, Gemma.” He sighed, frustrated by the familiar song and dance that he had gotten so close to escaping.

Gemma remained silent as her eyes darted around, suddenly very aware of her surroundings as they passed the turn to her house. “Where’re you going?” She scowled, wincing as she tried to sit up straighter. 

“St.Thomas.” 

“No.” She decided after a moment of hesitation.

“I gotta get you to the hospital?” He shook his head incredulously, wishing that just for once she would stop going against the grain with every chance that she got.

“No hospital.” She groaned, narrowing her eyes before a spike of pain as they hit a bump, forcing another wince to her face. 

♕

Tara was jolted awake by the piercing sound of her cellphone, looking around the empty bed before she remembered that Jax had told her he wouldn’t be coming home - which was the entire reason she’d placed her ringer on the loudest setting to begin with. She swiped the offending device from the nightstand before it could wake the baby, scowling when she saw the name on the caller ID. 

“Hello?” She answered softly as dread crept into every one of her nerves. It had only been a few months since Donna had been killed, and she knew from what Jax hold told her mere hours ago that they had just answered for her death - and there were only so many reasons that she could be getting a call from the Chief of police at 6:00 A.M….

♕

Tig woke up to the same sound that had put him to sleep, only this time it was louder, and he was on the receiving end. He blinked a few times as his sensitive eyes adjusted to the bright lights in the bathroom, a scowl coming to his face as he realized that he was sitting half-clothed on the floor, and the water was still running. 

He shook away the vague memory, looking down at the phone that was still sitting in his hand, quickly recalling why it had been there in the first place and pulling it to his ear in hopes that it was Sydney.

♕

Gemma didn’t do as little as flinch as Tara pressed what had to be the fifteenth alcohol-soaked cotton pad to her bleeding face, her shameful eyes falling closed to avoid her questioning gaze.

“Jax see you leave?” She sighed.

“H-He stayed at the clubhouse.” Tara responded shakily as she kept her hands as steady as possible. 

Gemma shuddered. It seemed that everybody had stayed in the safety of the clubhouse. “What about Abel?” Her eyes snapped back open.

“I called Neeta.” Tara assured her with a soft nod, looking between her and Unser. “Y-you need to tell me what happened, so that I can help you…”

Gemma looked down at the periwinkle coloured robe that surrounded her beaten, bruised, and befouled body. “Use your imagination…”

Tara froze with the gauze against her face. She didn’t want to use her imagination. She’d had enough of using her imagination, because her imagination always went to the worst-case scenario - that was the entire reason that Gemma had pushed into talking to Jax. But the look in the older woman’s eye told her that she already knew all of that, and for once, her imagination may have been right…

“Maybe we should let her rest a while.” Unser interjected once he could see her discomfort mounting, getting to his feet. They all knew what had happened, but saying it out loud - saying it out loud made it real. And he didn’t want to be the one to put that crushing reality on the fragile woman that he so dearly and dangerously loved.

“We have to get her to the hospital.” Tara insisted.

“No.” Gemma shook her head.

“I can’t treat you in your living room.” Tara shook her head. Not for this .

“I’d have to check in… There’d be insurance and shit and-” She looked back down. “Everybody will know.”

Tara’s heart smashed into a million pieces as she gazed upon the strongest woman that she had ever met, in the most vulnerable position that any woman could ever find themselves in - no matter who they were.

“Okay.” She nodded firmly. “We’ll get you dressed, then… We’ll go pick up Abel, and I’ll sign him in - we’ll say we’re running more tests.”

Gemma looked deep into the glossy brown eyes that had only ever shown her fear, but this morning, they showed her something different. This

morning, they showed her compassion. “You could get fired for that…” She narrowed her bloodshot eyes. 

“I’ll figure it out.” Tara nodded, turning away uncomfortably where she began gathering the pile of bloodied gauze.

“Promise me.” Gemma whispered, her tongue jutting out over her split lip. “You won’t tell anyone…”

Tara sighed, turning back to face her. “Gemma-”

“Promise.” She cut her off.

“Well we gotta tell Clay?” Unser scowled. 

“Not Clay.” Gemma shook her head. Especially not Clay. “Not Jax… No one.” Her voice fell to a desperate whisper that begged their compromise, and it worked as they both unwillingly nodded their heads, and Tara placed her hand over hers. If this was the one thing that they could do to help her, they would.

♕

“Clay.” Tig knocked on the door of the dorm that he knew Clay had retired to, pushing it open when he heard nothing but a groan coming from the other side. He wished that he could ignore this the way that his President clearly wanted to, but the second that he’d heard the voice on the other end of the phone, he’d rushed back into his clothes and bolted out the door - knocking multiple things over on the way.

“Clay.” He repeated as he entered the room to see his friend flopped over on the bed, blinking through his still spinning eyes as he kicked the mattress. “Clay!”

“Get out!” Clay groaned.

“Come on, it’s Alvarez…”

Clay woke up immediately, lifting his head from the hard pillow. “Alvarez?” He scowled at his Sergeant, reaching for the phone. “Yeah.” He sighed down the line.

“Niners came into my hood and took out one of my guys.” Alvarez growled.

“How do you know it was the Niners?” Clay almost rolled his eyes as he pushed himself up, reaching for the beer bottle on the nightstand and bringing it to his lips.

“Blew out his guts - got him holding up nine fingers.”

Tig paced around the room nervously, the small circles doing nothing for his poor balance. He was anxious to get his phone back so that he could check his call log and see if he had ever gotten through to Sydney, or if she had texted him about going home at some point in the night - because clearly she wasn’t at the clubhouse.

“Shit’s going sideways out here, man. We’re gonna need those AK’s - as many as you got.”

Clay winced. This threw a huge wrench in his plan to blame the Mayans for Donna’s death, and get back into business with Laroy - and he had a feeling that he knew exactly who had thrown it.  “I’m sorry, man. I wanna help you out, but this ATF thing’s got us tapped.” He ended the call before he could get chewed out, whipping the phone against the wall - which Tig ran for, making a mental note to remind Sydney that her fancy iPhone surely wouldn’t have survived the blow, while his ‘piece of shit flip phone’ barely had a scratch.

“I thought Opie tagged that Mayan as SOA.” He looked up at Tig skeptically. 

“He did, he carved it on his belly.” He nodded firmly. 

On his belly… He sighed, running his hands over his face. “Get Syd ready, tell her to call Laroy and let him know that shit’s about to jump off.”

“Yeah… Okay.” Tig nodded, hoping that was a task that he would be able to complete, but his faith began to dwindle as he made his way back to his room, scrolling through his phone to see no recent communication with her. He grit his teeth as he mashed his finger into the call button and closed the bathroom door, beginning to shed his clothes again.

But the call went right to voicemail. He sighed, hanging his head as he clutched the sink, forcing himself to look up into the mirror at his reflection - the reflection that made him sick to his stomach.

He showered quickly as the invasive thoughts swam through his still slightly inebriated brain, wishing for more alcohol to dull the pain that he knew would only grow as the trying day went on.  It was clear that she had left to get away from him, and he wished that he could blame her, but he couldn’t. 

He had thought that what he’d needed was an old lady who could handle the club - what he’d always thought was the root of all of his relationship problems. But Sydney had shown him that the club wasn’t the problem at all, it was him. He had been the problem all along. He hadn’t been a good partner lately - he knew that he hadn’t been a good partner lately, and that simple fact usually would’ve had him retreating back into the shadows of loneliness, pushing anybody else far, far away before he had to live with the guilt of hurting them. But he had stayed with Sydney because she had managed to prove the opposite - that she loved him, that she could handle it, and no matter how unworthy he felt, he couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her again.

He stepped out of the shower, toweling his dripping curls as he took a deep breath before reaching for his phone once again, the spicy scent of the body wash that Sydney had gotten him invading his airway and tugging on his tattered heartstrings. The second call went to voicemail, and he began to worry as he dressed himself hurriedly and made his way out to the bar, hoping that he had just missed her among the crowd earlier - pressing redial the entire way there. Ignoring his calls was one thing, but her phone being off was very much another - she’d become glued to that thing in the past months, there was no way that she would let it out of her sight.

“You ready?” He looked up to see Clay sitting on the pool table where Bobby and his welcome-home gift were still passed out, his brow raised expectantly. 

“Don’t know where she is, man. Won’t pick up.” He held his ringing phone out for proof.

“You looking for Syd?” He heard a chipper voice that died down significantly - turning to see Half-Sack behind the bar, shrinking immediately.

Clay looked between the shrimpy prospect and his fuming Sergeant. “You know where she is?” He asked the terrified man before Tig could - knowing that he would get a proper answer.

“Uh… Yeah… She uh- She went to Cara Cara.” He looked away, avoiding Tig’s eyes.

Tig growled as it all came back to him. He snapped his phone shut, thrusting his finger in the air as he advanced on the prospect. “You knew this whole time?” He sneered, his teeth baring behind his quivering lips.

“Woah, man.” Half-Sack backed himself up against the wall of liquor bottles. “I didn’t know you were looking for her, she left last night.” He explained, not daring to utter the remark that had formed on the tip of his tongue about how long it had taken for him to notice her absence - another damning piece of evidence in support of her somber claim.

“And you let her go?” Tig took his collar into his giant fist.

“Tig!” Clay hollered, sparing Half-Sack the beating solely because they were on a time crunch. “We’ll go get her.” He assured his Sergeant, heading for the door. 

♕

Sydney woke up to a steady breeze rolling through her window, cracking her eyes open with a scowl as she looked around the room that was still dark at the early hour. Her head began pounding immediately, forcing her eyes shut again as she reached blindly towards the nightstand for her phone. But in her search, she found that she was in bed alone - a realization that recalibrated her senses immediately. She sat up, searching the floor for any of Tig’s spent clothing that he always forgot to put in the laundry basket, but all she found were bits and pieces of the angel costume that she was still wearing. 

She pulled the blanket up to her chest as she reached behind her to close the window, finding her phone sitting on the window sill in the process. She clutched her head, holding down the power button as everything began to come back to her; Donut, the mystery guests, Cara Cara - but she realized as the dead battery icon appeared on her screen that she had no idea how the hell she’d gotten home. She remembered driving there, but based on her condition at the moment, she prayed she hadn’t driven back. 

She pulled the covers back, shakily getting to her feet as she padded across the room and into the bathroom where she slipped into her robe. When she turned back, she saw that there was a glass of water and two Advil tablets sitting on her vanity - something that she definitely hadn’t been able to set up for herself. The tender sight only made her wince, because it meant that she must’ve gotten really ugly if Tig had been shunned to the couch. 

But as she made her way downstairs in search of him, she realized that he couldn’t have been shunned to the couch, because somebody else already had. A shiver rolled through her entire body, making her cringe as she laid her glitter-caked eyes on Happy where he slept soundly on his back. She fought the groan that threatened to escape her lips as she balled her fists, digging her long nails into her palms. She didn’t know what was worse, the fact that he had slept in her house without permission, or the fact that Tig hadn’t .

She crept back upstairs where she quickly and quietly made herself presentable, scraping as much of the glitter from her face as she could while it tingled with the threat of tears, twisting her still tinsel-adorned hair into a low ponytail and securing it up into a black banana clip. She ripped the restricting, strappy garments from her soft and untouched skin - the shiver pushing the sting in her chest further up her throat. No matter how uncomfortable things may have been between her and Tig lately - in the months since they’d gotten back together, they hadn’t spent a single night apart.

She tiptoed down the stairs after dressing herself in a black and white flannel that she had opted for rather than her first choice which had been a grey one that belonged to Tig, a pair of black leggings, and an oversized pair of black sunglasses. Her black sneakers sat between her fingers as she carried them downstairs before slipping out the door and bolting to the garage, determined to get away before Happy could wake up - which she knew would likely be seconds after even the faintest sound of the door closing. 

She was relieved to see as the heavy garage door lifted, that her car was damage-free, and parked perfectly next to her bike. She fired up the engine, tossing her shoes onto the passenger seat as she high-tailed it out of the neighborhood with no regard for the early hour. She had no idea how Happy was going to get back to the clubhouse, and she didn't care. 

♕

Tig stomped up the front steps to Sydney’s house as Clay waited in the driveway, praying that she was there because he hadn’t had the balls to open the garage and check for her car in front of his President who would blame him if it wasn’t - and he wouldn’t be wrong in doing so. He shoved his key into the lock that he was thankful to see hadn’t been changed overnight, pushing the door open where he immediately began calling out for her.

“Shut the fuck up.” He heard a raspy voice sneering from the living room - a raspy voice that was far too low to be Sydney’s. He stalked down the hallway with a scowl, that scowl only deepening when Happy came into view, sitting shirtless on the couch and pawing at his eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” His confusion quickly turned to anger - an anger that, once again, he was thankful for, because it was only going to push him further towards the normality that Sydney was desperate for.

“I went after her.” Happy rushed to his feet in defense, his lip turned up as he walked up on the man who dared to question him for looking out for his old lady. “Somethin’ that your pussy ass can’t seem to do.” He spit out bitterly.

Tig stiffened as the deja vu of the recurring conversation set in, only this time, he wasn’t giving up. “You don’t know shit about what’s gone on here.” He growled.

“Don’t need to.” Happy shook his head. “All I know is that my Princess aint happy.”

“She’s not yours.” Tig snarled, his frustration beginning to overtake his accountability. 

“Then act like it.” Happy nodded firmly, brushing past him and heading out the door.

♕

Chapter Text

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♕

Tig and Clay rode down Main Street on their way back to the clubhouse in search of Sydney, hopeful that they had somehow just missed her in their hasty travels, because time was running out to give Laroy the heads up that his shit was about to hit the fan over their mistake - the mistake that shouldn’t have existed.

“There!” Tig yelled over their collective roaring engines as they sat at a red light, pointing out Sydney’s car parked in front of her favorite coffee shop. 

Sydney grumbled as the telltale rumbling of motorcycles got louder, her sliver of peace crumbling before her eyes - or ears - as they so quickly found her in the one place that she’d had left to be alone, because apparently her own house was out of the question. She sighed, crossing her legs and placing the straw of her much -needed venti iced latte between her lips as she watched the door expectantly.

The two large men came barreling into the quaint cafe just seconds later, morning diners moving frantically out of their way - bumping into walls and tables so not to block the path of the determined bikers.

“Jesus Christ.” Tig shook his head when he finally laid eyes on her, blowing out a sigh of relief.

But Clay hardly shared in his Sergeant’s reprieve as he looked to her for an explanation, his brow only raising higher when she met him with a hardened stare of pure indifference. He held her gaze for a few seconds as he waited for Tig to penetrate her facade, but it quickly became clear that the curly-haired man had struck out far before this conversation had even started.

“We were worried about ya…” He decided to take on the roll of ‘good cop’, forcing himself to swallow the frustration over the turmoil being caused by the incest within his ranks.

“Well, here I am.” She mused theatrically, resting her elbows on the table where she folded her hands together. 

Clay scowled, looking to Tig for a proper explanation now - but he also gave him nothing. “You don’t answer your phone anymore?” He shook his head incredulously, briefly remembering why women had never been considered for the club in the first place - because it wasn’t just their emotions that got in the way…

“It’s dead.” She told him simply as she actively avoided whatever Tig was trying to tell her with his glossy blue eyes.

“Well then charge it.” He bit out, slamming his burner down on the table. “We need a meet with Laroy.”

“Alright, well then meet with him.” She countered with a scoff. In the months since Donna’s death, she had watched her strong and fearless President back himself into a corner with his tail between his legs - exactly like she had tried to tell him he would be forced to do if he didn’t listen to her. Now with Jax calling all of the shots and barking up every wrong tree, she’d been left with nothing to scratch on - and that was a scab that was going to take more than a single bone to heal. 

Clay raised a brow, leaning over the small, one-person table where he slid the phone closer. “I trust that you remember the number.” He smiled sarcastically, shooting Tig a look that told him that he better get a handle on his woman so that they could get back to business, making his way outside so that the couple could have what was apparently some much-needed alone time.

Tig felt the guilt coursing through his entire body as Sydney glared up at him as soon as they were alone, looking away awkwardly as he tried to figure out where the hell to start - but Clay’s narrowing eyes on the other side of the glass told him exactly where he would be starting.

“Uh.” He cleared his throat, looking back to her. “That Mayan we killed yesterday… Jax went rogue and tagged him as a Nine. Need to let Laroy know that shit’s about to get crazy in O-town.” He explained as he rubbed the back of his neck, hoping that the news would redirect the anger that he could feel radiating off of her.

Sydney nodded slowly, watching him closely as he trembled under her stare, saying nothing as she reached for the phone and flipped it open, dialing Laroy’s number.

“You gonna ask what happened?” Tig scowled when she stayed silent.

“You just told me.” She scoffed, lifting the phone to her ear and getting to her feet. 

“Yeah, but ain’t you curious about how it went down?” He shook his head incredulously.

“I don’t give a shit how it went down. It’s your problem, not mine.” She told him bitterly as she gathered her things and turned towards the door. “Gas station outside of town - I’ll meet you guys there. Public place to keep everybody square.” She explained before disappearing, just as she had the night before.

Tig sighed, forcing himself not to get too discouraged as he tried to convince himself that a majority of her attitude was coming from her hangover - as it had many times over the past months - following her outside as they did what they did best: ignored their problems to handle business.

♕

Unser sighed as he drove around the outskirts of town, trying to focus on the beat of the old rock song that was pounding through the speakers of the fancy car that played music much louder than he thought was even possible, instead of the steadily increasing beat of his heart. 

He’d put it off as long as he could - trying to find another way to explain what had happened without explaining what had happened , but as he approached the construction site, he knew that this was the only way. 

He took a deep breath as he drove the beautiful car up the small hill, wincing as he placed it into neutral and stepped out onto the dusty pavement - watching as it began to roll, gaining just the right amount of speed before smashing head-on into a cement barrier. 

“Another magical day to be alive…” He sighed once again as he turned away from the smoking sight that he hoped she would forgive - that she had to forgive, starting the long walk back into town as the sun began to rise on the first day of November.

♕

Sydney sat back in the driver’s seat of her car, smoking a cigarette while Clay and Tig did the same next to their bikes behind her where they were all parked at the gas station on the outskirts of town. 

“Alright… I’ll send somebody out.” Clay slammed his phone shut with a sigh, looking towards Tig. “Rosen - Otto wants to talk to us.” 

Tig nodded distantly, his eyes wandering behind his sunglasses to the side mirror of Sydney’s car where he could just barely see her face. He offered her a small smile, but she turned away the second that she saw it. He sighed, his heart pinching behind his tightening chest as he chewed the inside of his lip - looking hopefully for something to distract him from the understanding that he had royally fucked every good thing that had ever come into his life.

“Here comes Captain Black.” He perked up when the Mercedes came into view - the quintessential ‘corruption car’, it seemed.

Sydney didn’t bother removing her giant sunglasses as she took the final drag off of her cigarette, holding it in for as long as she could before she stepped out of her car and dropped the butt to the ground, grinding it beneath the thin sole of her shoe.

“Premium or regular, sir?” Clay approached the car with a grin.

Laroy ignored the old man’s joke, looking past him and directly at Sydney who seemed to be ignoring her old man as the curly-haired Sergeant hovered over her while she looked straight ahead.

“Your intel checked out.” He nodded. “Dead Mayan was flashing our sign…” Teaj stepped out of the vehicle, nodding Sydney’s way.

“Been missin’ that ass around the hood, shorty!” He called as he made his way into the small convenience store with a menacing grin.

“Hey!” Laroy hollered to his player of a right hand who had much less concern for the presence of hers, snapping his fingers. “Not now!”

Sydney chuckled, pulling her sunglasses down far enough so that he could see the wink that she tossed him - feeling herself being pulled into Tig’s side as a growl rumbled in his chest. She cursed herself for the betraying reaction that her touch-starved body gave, a moan almost slipping through her lips as her stomach dipped and her thighs pressed together, but she quickly realized that this was just another display of possession in the presence of another man. 

“It must’ve been the Mexicans - killed their own guy.” Laroy surmised without a second thought, nodding with a fierce determination.

Sydney was suddenly glad to be in Tig’s arms, because it stopped her from blowing their cover by physically slapping her palm over her own fucking face as her eyes widened dramatically behind her shades at the continuously shocking stupidity of the men before her.

Tig bit his lip as a smirk tugged at it when he felt Sydney squirming in his grip, squeezing her hip to let her know that he too found endless amusement in the so horribly misguided conclusion - but it was a conclusion that benefitted them.

Sydney shivered again - a feeling that she was sure he could feel this time. She shook her head, pulling herself from his grasp as she made her way closer to the gang leaders. She refused to allow herself to get her hopes up, especially for the wrong reasons.

“Guess me and you are goin’ steady again.” Laroy nodded.

Clay lifted his hand which Laroy grasped, pulling him into an embrace. “I’m happy to say that our little Mexican retail experiment is in the rearview, brotha.” He pulled away with a smile, looking over the less than pleased expression of his new - and old - business partner. “You look tired, man...” He taunted.

“Yeah, well… Recreational H is drying up.” Laroy sighed. “Ain’t no stimulus package for the middle-class powder user, so black and brown are back to fighting over the junkie trade.”

“The tragedies of a recession…” Sydney mused, feeling an irritating flicker of warmth in her heart as Tig chuckled behind her.

“Gonna need two dozen AKs.” Teaj seemingly reappeared out of nowhere, speaking directly to Sydney who blinked out of her haze.

“Alright.” Clay nodded when she didn’t. “They’ll be simple though - no scopes, no mods.”

“Need them tonight.” Laroy nodded. He wasn’t picky - not when they were at war.

“I’ll call you with the location.” Clay nodded back.

AJ Weston blinked with each shutter of the industrial strength camera that his bulky arms held up without a problem, watching the encounter between two of Northern California’s biggest players through the lens - the encounter that should’ve been stopped. He pulled away with a scowl, sinking down behind the steering wheel of his truck as a Charming PD squad car rolled up - immediately pointing his camera back at the scene that provided him much more intel than he had expected.

“Somethin’ you fellas need?” Unser greeted the dark-skinned men as he approached what he was sure was a meeting that he shouldn’t have been interrupting, but it gave him the motivation that he so desperately needed to be able to deliver the lie.

“Black man can’t stop for gas in Charming?” Laroy scoffed, turning his attention to Sydney while Tig and Clay stepped forward to muzzle their nosey lapdog. “Looks like our little vanilla cupcake healed up good…” He whispered, his lips brushing the top of her head as he ran the back of his hand along her thigh.

“Always do.” She nodded.

“They must be payin’ you real well to be takin’ beatings and bullets.”

“When you’re good at something, never do it for free, right?” She mused with a sarcastic smile. “We’ll see you later, Mr. Wayne.” She nodded, squeezing Teaj’s bicep as she strutted past him with a smile.

“You boys have a nice day.” Unser smiled as the unwelcome men glared at him while they reversed out of the small parking lot. “I thought that we don’t shit where we eat?” He narrowed his eyes at Clay.

“Relax.” Clay swatted the air as he pulled his gloves on. “Just mending some fences.”

Unser nodded as he tried to force himself to say what he needed to say in a timely fashion, but he completely froze in front of the man that had always scared the living shit out of him - as he always had.

“What?” Clay scowled.

“Uh.” He cleared his throat. “There’s a car out by the power and water construction site - needs a tow.”

“So call the garage.” Tig whined with a roll of his eyes. He was tired, stressed, and hungover - he didn’t need their operations being interrupted by something as minuscule as their day job.

“It- it’s Gemma’s Caddy…” He looked down at his boots. “She ran off the road last night on her way home fr-”

“Jesus christ.” Clay cut him off, stalking up to him as his expression hardened. “She alright?” 

Unser paused again. “Yeah…” He nodded unconvincingly. “She’s with Tara at uh… At St. Thomas.”

Sydney listened to the entire exchange with a crease in her forehead. They had driven past that same construction site on their way to the gas station, and she hadn’t seen any wrecked vehicle - let alone Gemma’s.

“You’re just telling me this shit now, right?” Clay raised his brows as he made his way to his bike while Sydney and Tig exchanged the same look of confusion.

“I just found out!” The sound of revving engines drowned out what he hoped would be his last close call of the morning.

♕

Gemma sat up from the pelvic exam chair with a wince, looking up at Tara in hopes that she would tell her that the damage wasn’t nearly as bad as it felt - because she hadn’t yet had the courage to look for herself.

“Uh.” Tara cleared her throat, doing her best to take the emotion out of this and do her job - just like she had done with Abel… Until she had formed too much of an emotional connection and inevitably crossed the line... 

“There’s a number of small tears, but it’s nothing that won’t heal on its own.” She nodded assuringly as she slipped the blue gloves off of her trembling hands. “I’m gonna start you on antibiotics right away.”

Gemma looked up with a concerned curiosity in her eyes. “It’s standard procedure.” Tara took a deep breath, not wanting to explain why it was standard procedure, but it was the only thing that was going to stop her from bursting into tears. “Advanced treatment for chlamydia and gonorrhea - even before the tests come back.”

Gemma stared ahead blankly as the realization of just how much they had taken from her, slapped her in her throbbing face. She knew that there would be a recovery - both mental and physical - but she hadn’t thought about the internal one as well…

Tara took her face into her hands as she made to remove the butterfly bandage that she had placed on the deepest gash in her cheek, her heart cracking when she flinched. “Sorry…” She muttered as far too many memories flooded her - memories that used to have her just as jumpy… 

“Kohn tried to do the same thing to me.” She whispered as she retook her face much more gently this time that she knew it was coming, tugging lightly at the bandage. 

“What?” Gemma’s eyes nearly popped out of her head.

Tara nodded softly. “When you came looking for Jax that morning… The night before he knocked me out and had me on the bed… I reached for his gun but.” Her eyes fell closed as she took a deep breath. “I couldn’t finish the job…” The bandage pulled free, a small amount of dried blood sitting on the surface of the wound. “Now you know a secret of mine.” She nodded sincerely, hoping to give her the confidence that she so desperately needed right now.

♕

Sydney sat silently in the waiting room at St.Thomas with Clay and Tig, nervously bouncing her knee as her leg sat crossed overtop of it - trying to work out the timeline in which this supposed accident possibly could’ve taken place. 

“Step aside, step aside - we got a man down.” She heard the unmistakable accent coming from down the hall, looking up to see Chibs, Half-Sack, and Juice all looking extremely disheveled as they rolled a groaning Bobby into the waiting room on a stretcher.

She chuckled, but the amusement didn’t last nearly as long as she would’ve hoped - looking back down at her phone screen that was still black, despite having been plugged into the charger for the last twenty minutes.

Tig turned from where he had been pacing around the small room, plastering a grin on his face for his brothers that were clearly having a much more manageable time with their hangovers than he was. 

“How’s the homecoming queen?” He nodded to Bobby.

“He’s a little green.” Juice laughed as he shook Bobby’s leg - jolting him from his half-slumber.

Bobby looked around frantically as his long hair fell into his face. “How’s Gemma?” He mumbled, vaguely remembering why they were there.

“Better than you.” Clay nodded with a smirk.

“Good… Good… Alright.” He nodded, passing back out against the rolling bed that was much more comfortable than the pool table.

Tig looked away, disappointed that his distraction had been short-lived - making his way back to his chair next to Sydney where he looked down at the phone that she was repeatedly trying to turn on.

“What was that about my ‘shitty phone’, again?” He nudged her with a smirk, pulling out his burner. “Clay chucked it against the wall this morning - still looks good as new.” He proudly turned the silver device in his hands. “Doubt yours would be lookin’ this good after a Jax-fueled pitch.” He chuckled.

“Yeah…” Sydney’s voice trailed off as her already spotty attention was stolen by the Chief of police who had clearly attempted to slip past them undetected. “Probably not…” 

Tig’s brow twitched when she brushed him off, her voice going hollow and her eyes becoming unfocused. “Hey, babe.” He leaned over, whispering into her hair gently as his hand found its way onto her knee. “Why don’t you head home if you’re hungover? I can keep you updated on Gemma-” 

“I’m fine.” She cut him off, shaking her head as she removed his hand from her leg and set the phone down on her chair as she got to her feet, following Unser down the hall where he ducked into a room that had to be Gemma’s.

Unser stepped inside of the room where Tara was tending to Gemma’s facial wounds. “Sorry.” He averted his eyes from where she was covered by just a blanket over her legs - guilt flooding him as Tara pulled the curtain closed. “Sorry, Doc… I need a word with Gemma.”

Gemma winced. A word was the last thing that she wanted right now. “Let him in…” She sighed, listening as the two whispered to each other while they traded places. 

Tara left them alone for some privacy - something that she was sure to give Gemma as much as she could. But as she pulled the door closed behind her, she froze in place as she looked up to see Sydney’s green eyes staring right through her. 

Sydney felt her heart sink when Tara looked at her like that. Not like she was surprised to see her, but like she was surprised to see her ; sadly, desperately, guiltily - like she had been caught red-handed. The two stared at each other silently, forming some kind of unspoken understanding as Tara ducked back into the room with a nod that did nothing to help calm her suspicions. 

“What is it?” Gemma shook her head in frustration.

“Clay’s here…” Unser choked out regrettably. 

Gemma felt a jolt of anxiety run through her already worry-ridden body. “You son of a bitch…” She felt her voice beginning to shake.

“I told him you were in a car accident.” He did his best to put a stop to what she was thinking.

“What?” Gemma scowled. 

“I ran your Caddy into a concrete barrier out by the utility shed…” He sighed as Tara reappeared, looking just as pissed as Gemma was… “Take my head off if you want.” He threw his arms up in defense. “I just didn’t see any other way to sell this.”

Gemma didn’t nod - she wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction, but she retreated, looking back down at the pink blanket that covered her bruised legs.

“He doesn’t know about nothing else.” He assured the two women.

“I’ll go and talk to him.” Tara offered.

“I-” Gemma shook her head. “I don’t wanna see him yet…” She couldn’t see him yet.

“Actually…” Unser winced. “They’re all here…” Tara twitched, knowing that a specific one of them was standing right outside the door, and she didn’t know if it mattered whether Gemma wanted to see her or not…

“Jesus Christ.” Gemma sneered. “Is there anyone you didn’t tell?”

“I’ll handle it.” Tara tried to assure her as she turned back towards the door, but she wasn’t sure if it was the truth… She knew that she would be able to lie to the men who didn’t know any better, but she had no idea how she was going to lie to Sydney who was already suspicious; who knew what this looked like, firsthand - and she didn’t know if she wanted to.

“Uh…” Unser looked around the room that was full of sharp tools for Gemma to stab him with. “Maybe I should help her…” He turned towards the door, quickly being yanked back.

Gemma tightened her grip on his arm as she tried to find the words - tried to make herself say the words. “This wasn’t about me.” She told him in a whisper. 

“What do you mean?” Unser’s forehead creased.

“What those animals did.” She kept her voice level as it threatened to break. “It was to hurt Clay - Jax.” She watched as it finally began to make sense to him. “If anyone finds out, then they win… And I can’t let that happen.”

“Who’s ‘they’, honey?” But he was cut off by the door opening behind him, turning to see Sydney standing where her jaw had fallen to the floor. “Hey!” He yelled, shooing her out of the room as he yanked the curtain closed, but he was no match for her speed as she side-stepped him before becoming paralyzed once again as she came face to face with exactly what he had desperately tried to stop her from seeing.

“Gemma…” Her voice barely came out in a whisper as she ignored the old cop who seemed to know as well as she did that something was not right here. 

“It’s alright.” Gemma told him with a shake of her head. 

Unser watched her reluctantly before deciding that he wasn’t exactly in a position to be disobeying her orders, sighing as he made his way out of the room.

Sydney stayed silent as dread enveloped her body and wrapped itself around her neck as she looked at the spitting image of her teenage self - the image that she had struggled to face after what had been done to her…

“I’m alright, baby.” Gemma nodded, pulling her eyes away before they could begin spilling the tears that she had been holding in all morning. 

“W-” Sydney tried to clear her constricting throat, but her voice still came out in a squeak. “What happened?” 

“Ah.” Gemma swatted the air. “Had too much to drink last night… Should’ve just stayed at the clubhouse with Clay.” She did her best to sound nonchalant as she delivered the lie that held so much truth - she should’ve stayed at the clubhouse with Clay.

“So did I, and I didn’t total my fucking car?” The blonde woman exclaimed incredulously as she rushed over, the confused panic in her chest turning to frustration as she continued to search her eyes for the truth. 

“I told you before, I ain’t young like you.” Gemma forced out a chortle, but she knew that she’d been caught the second that she watched Sydney’s bloodshot eyes twitch out of her deceptive hold, and fall to the blanket in her lap. “I’m alright.” She narrowed her eyes, recapturing hers as her voice fell into the commanding tone that, for a second, made her feel like she actually might be.

Sydney’s entire body was rigid with fear, but The Matriarch had made it clear that this was not the place for it. “Are you sure?” She whispered shakily.

“Yes, baby.” Gemma nodded, confident that they were at least on the same page about this being under the radar . “Just sore… A little insecure.” She chuckled - going for the one thing that she knew Sydney would be able to understand… “I just don’t want them to see me like this - didn’t want anyone to see me like this.” She forced a playful smirk.

Sydney nodded as she tried to tell herself that it was the truth the way that Gemma wanted her to do. There was no reason that she shouldn’t believe it; it was a truth that she could reconcile, and even one that she could understand - but there was also something else that she could understand… An awful memory that sat tucked tightly away in the back of her mind… A memory that was refusing to let her accept that this had been the result of a car accident.

♕

Chapter Text

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♕

“Hey.” Tara flinched when she heard the familiar voice, looking up from her clipboard to see Jax rushing through the communal waiting room.

“Hey-” She could barely utter out her greeting before she found herself at the end of a hard kiss - a kiss that should’ve sparked her nerves, but instead turned her stomach.

“How is she?” He panted. He’d hardly taken a breath since he’d heard the news, racing out of the clubhouse and speeding to the hospital before he’d even had time to shower off the night.

Tara opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out, instead taking a deep breath as she gathered her paperwork and turned to face him in hopes that the pressure of his innocent stare would coax some kind of response.

“She’s fine.” She almost fucking choked as she spat out the lie, nodding rapidly.

“Yeah?” Jax nodded gratefully.

“J-just… A few bruises.” She added as he looked at her like that; so hopeful, so trusting…

“Okay, good.” He blew out a sigh of relief as he finally began to catch his breath, but he caught something else in the process; a hint of apprehension in her glossy brown eyes before she looked away. “I’m sorry about last night… Just wanted to stay and keep an eye on Ope.”

“It’s fine.” Tara shook her head. That was the least of her concerns right now.

Jax narrowed his eyes at her until she finally met them. “Are you ?” He asked sincerely.

Tara forced a smile as she raised her eyebrows in response instead, worried that she may actually vomit if she tried to utter another vile mistruth.

Jax sighed, his expression softening. “Look, I’m glad that you asked for the truth… It means a lot to me that you want to figure out how to make this work for both of us.”

Tara felt her phony smile beginning to crack. The truth - that thing that she had been so desperate to get just hours earlier, but now found herself unable to give. “Yeah.” She chortled, glancing back down at her clipboard, peeking up at him through her lashes where he gave her a knowing smile that the butterflies in her stomach thankfully allowed her to return. “I have to let Clay know.” She blinked once she realized what it was that she was supposed to be doing - before somebody else could wander down the hallway and find out the truth.

“Yeah.” Jax nodded with a sigh, following her down the hall as she led him to his next problem of the still very early day...

Clay perked up the second that he saw them, immediately abandoning his crew where they were taking up a majority of the hallway outside of the smaller waiting area as Tara tossed an apologetic smile to her clearly weary coworkers.

“What’s going on? Is she okay?” Clay asked her, ignoring Jax altogether - he had more important things to tend to right now.

“Yeah.” Tara nodded much easier in the presence of somebody who scared the hell out of her. “She just had a little too much to drink… I have to run a few more tests, but she’s gonna be fine.” She assured him - and she hoped that she was right…

“But, uh… It’s nothin’ serious, right?” He narrowed his eyes with a genuine concern that she had never seen from the large man, which made her next answer that much harder to give...

“N-no.” She stuttered, shaking her head rapidly.

“Can I see her?”

Tara lowered her voice, taking a step closer to the President. “When she hit the barrier, she took a pretty good shot to the face.” She winced convincingly. “There’s some… Swelling .” She nodded in a way that she hoped Clay would be able to understand. “It’s gonna be a little while.”

“Okay.” Clay nodded. He understood, but he wasn’t happy about it. “Well, uh. I appreciate you taking care of her, Doc.” He smiled politely. 

“Oh.” Tara shrugged it off with an awkward smile. “Of course.” She chortled, catching Sydney’s eyes across the room from where she had retaken her seat, nodding to the men before taking her leave.

Jax was glad that his little stunt in Oakland hadn’t seemed to have blown up yet as he began following Clay back to the group, but his relief was short-lived as the larger man turned right back around and blocked his path.

He scoffed, quickly harnessing the cockyness that he’d gotten used to displaying, even when he was in the wrong - just like step-daddy taught him . “Somethin’ wrong?” He smirked.

Clay’s face fell instantly into a harsh scowl. “They found that Mayan that we visited… He was throwing up nine fingers - now brown’s a little pissed at black.” He sneered with a sarcastic smile.

“I made a decision for the good of the club.” Jax shrugged. “Spur of the moment… Seemed like the right thing. I’m sure you can understand.”

Sydney looked away from the showdown between Clay and Jax that she knew Jax would win - just like he had every other time in the past three months - when her phone finally turned back on, lighting up with the dozens of missed calls from Tig.

Tig glanced down at the repeatedly buzzing phone in her hand, his eyes wandering past the green display of notifications where he noticed that her background had been changed. He frowned as his heart began to sink from where he had barely been able to suspend it with ropes of ignorance, but he couldn’t let his demons win again - he had to keep trying.

Sydney’s entire body tensed into a cringe as she kept the grimace from her face when she not only saw the background that she had completely forgotten she’d changed during her drunken tantrum, but when she realized that Tig had seen it, as well.

“It’s a good thing nothin’ happened to me.” She heard beside her before she felt another nudge against her shoulder, turning to see him looking down at his name repeatedly blinking on her phone with a wink.

“Well.” A sarcastic smile came to her face as his continuous nonchalance sent a rush of anger through her. I’m just glad to see that you even noticed I was gone.” She shoved the phone into the bottom of her purse.

Tig stiffened in the already hard chair, rubbing his nose as he looked away from her penetrating gaze. “Looks like you were safe with Hap.” He shrugged. There was no way that he was going to tell her that he hadn’t realized that she’d left the clubhouse until he’d woken up this morning.

Sydney’s brow creased. How would he have known that? Unless he had possibly been behind it all along… But her brief concern over the meddling of her old man quickly turned to the possibilities of what could’ve happened if she hadn’t been safe with Hap, the same way that Gemma hadn’t been…

“I saw him at the house…” Tig nodded as he observed her confusion, even though she hadn’t cared enough to ask.

“Oh.” Sydney nodded, having already moved past the issue as her mind raced with every single horrible scenario that she feared wasn’t far from the truth.

“Yeah.” Tig nodded attentively, trying to force the friendly conversation that she clearly wasn’t trying to have. “You guys finally talk?” He asked hopefully.

“No.” Sydney deadpanned, dramatically pursing her lips as she shook her head.

It was Tig’s turn to furrow his brows now as he became confused. She seemed just as indifferent towards the bald man as she had months ago, but he couldn’t tell if it was because she actually was, or because he was the one who was asking…

“Did you guys get to talk?” She raised a brow as he continued to silently stare at her with an innocence that was grating on her last nerve. “You know, since that was something that you were so adamant about doing for me.” 

“I-” Tig’s expression turned to a scowl as his face contorted in deep confusion. “I thought that you d-didn’t want that?” He stammered. Even though he had gone against her wishes and talked to Happy, it had clearly been unsuccessful.

“Oh so now you care about what I want.” She scoffed, sitting back in her chair as she crossed her arms and willed herself to calm down before she could cross the line that her ever-building frustration seemed to be so dead-set on finding. “He brought me home… I guess.” She explained with a blasé shake of her head, hoping that would be the end of the conversation.

“You don’t remember?” Tig scowled again.

“Nope.” She popped the single-syllable word as he continued to distract her with his stupid questions.

“Thought you didn’t do that…” He nodded slowly.

“Well, things change.” She gave a salty smile, making to get up and away from him once again before she was halted by Unser angrily waving his phone in the air.

“The feds raided Luann’s studio.” He announced. “Asset seizure… Wiped her out.”

“What?” Sydney scowled incredulously. She knew that Luann had taken a massive hit since the feds had raided her for drugs - thanks to Stahl - but she’d been under the impression that since her recent employment, things had been looking up.

“Well… That must be what Otto wanted.” Clay nodded as his control continued to slip from his decaying hands.

Tig felt his heart leap as the first piece of good news hit his ears in months . He knew that he should’ve been concerned for his incarcerated brother and his old lady - and had he been single, that concern would’ve come much easier. But since his old lady had decided to make the porn studio that was filled to the brim with drugs and opportunities, her new hangout spot away from him, he was relieved.

Jax sucked in a deep breath, looking at the extremely tired group of men behind him. “Okay… Me and Ope will go deal with Otto."

“Ope goes with Tig to assemble the guns for Laroy.” Clay shot him down the only way that he knew how; the way that would cut deep.

Tig stiffened in his seat as a cold chill ran through his veins, and by the look on Jax’s face as he glared the Sergeant down, he felt the same way.

“Take Bobby.” Clay ordered. “He could use the fresh air.”

Jax looked back at the passed out man with a humourless chuckle, tossing Tig one more warning glance before he turned back to Clay. “I’ll handle it alone.” He practically spit at him before he waltzed out the doors on his own - because that was exactly how he had to do this.

♕

AJ Weston rounded the corner of St.Thomas hospital where he hoped to capture the reaction of the President when he found out what they had done to his old lady, but the sight that he came face to face with was nothing like the devastation that he had expected to see as the white-haired man took his infant grandson from Neeta with a big, toothy smile.

Sydney sighed as she splashed her face with a handful of cold water, leaning her weight against her arms as she held onto the edge of the sparkling white bathroom sink, shaking her head at her lifeless reflection before ripping off a paper towel to dry her hands and making her way back out to the waiting room where she hoped Tig had left.

Her eyes were glued to her phone the entire time that she dragged her feet along the polished hospital floors, taking as long as possible as she carefully analyzed each explanatory text that came from Lyla and Ima as they filled her in on what exactly had gone down at Cara Cara. But she was snapped out of the porn politics when she walked right into a khaki-covered body, looking up to see none other than their mystery guest, himself.

“Sorry, ma’am.” Weston smiled politely as his hand grazed her waist, slipping away just as quickly as he’d appeared. 

Sydney was now steady on her feet, but she felt anything but stable as her head began to spin. She stumbled over to the nearest trash can where she gripped the edges, breathing heavily as her stomach convulsed under his touch. She’d known exactly what had happened to Gemma, and now she knew exactly who had done it.

“Hey, are you okay?” She felt a new set of hands on her - a set that didn’t send her body into fight or flight mode, despite the fact that they too belonged to a stranger.

“N-no.” Sydney shook her head as she straightened up in the arms of the light-haired nurse. “No, I’m okay. Just hungover.” She forced a chuckle as she tried to blink the spots out of her vision, making her way back to the waiting room much quicker now. She couldn’t believe that she had let it go over her head in her haze - even momentarily. Of course this had been them. Now she just needed to figure out why .

She made it back to her seat where she was relieved to see that everyone had dispersed, being left alone in the room with Juice and Half-Sack who were preoccupied by their Gameboys. She returned to her phone where the text messages were continuing to pour in as the girls learned new information, looking up a few minutes later when she felt a presence above her.

“I got you some stuff…” Tig held out the handful of half-decent snacks that he’d managed to snag from the vending machine. “Thought you’d be hungry.” He nodded thoughtfully. He’d learned in the past months as sex slid off of the table, that the next best way to cure any of her moods, was with food - especially hangovers.

“Thanks.” Sydney’s eyes met his briefly before she swiped the packaged goods and dropped them into her purse, returning to her phone.

Tig bit the inside of his cheek, his breathing getting heavier beneath the weight of his kutte - and all that it stood for. “That’s all I get?” He raised a brow as playfully as he could.

Sydney didn’t bother acknowledging him as her fingers rapidly moved across her keypad, her long nails clacking against the glass screen of her phone.

“Okay.” Tig nodded, defeated as he sunk back into the seat next to her while she ignored him. “Can I at least get a kiss?” He tried again, nudging her forehead with his own.

Sydney rolled her eyes, dramatically pulling back from him as she waved her phone in the air. “I’m a little bit fucking busy right now.” She huffed.

Tig frowned, his eyes falling closed as the weight of constant failure came crashing down on his shoulders. “I’m trying to fix things here…” He whispered. 

“You can brush me off for two months, but I can’t have one day?” She shook her head incredulously.

Tig nodded slowly as he got to his feet, and left her alone - which was apparently what she wanted now. He grinded his teeth as he made his way out to the parking lot where Opie was waiting for him. He thought he’d known what he needed to do to fix things, but now it seemed like that option had been taken from him as well. He had always known deep down that he was destined to suffer, but now all he could do was hope that some way, somehow, he was destined to suffer with her by his side.

♕

Jax stood in the doorway of the visitation room at Stockton State Penitentiary as the guards held him back from the fight that had broken out between two men. He watched with a raised brow until they were dragged away where they would surely be thrown into solitary confinement for inciting violence in the common area, allowing himself to be led across the tense room to the long haired man wearing his signature black beanie.

“I arranged a little entertainment.” Otto chuckled as he shut the book that he had been reading.

“Appreciate that.” Jax smirked, looking back at the final sight of the last man before he was dragged away. “White on white? What’s that about?” He knew how prison hierarchy worked, something had to be up.

“Our Aryan friends are gettin’ a little choosy about who they burn crosses with…” The older man slid his thick glasses off of his face. “Somethin’s tricklin’ down from the top of Mount Whitey… Not sure what.”

Jax zoned out as he stared at the man who had made countless sacrifices for his club, his mind wandering back to their own Aryan friends… 

“Not why I asked to see you.” Otto’s voice snapped him out of it.

“I know.” Jax nodded regretfully. “I heard about Luann… How can we help?”

“This punk producer’s been making a play for her talent. With the feds shutting her down every three months? This asshole will highjack all of ‘em.”

“We’ll talk to him.” Jax nodded his assurance.

Otto sighed, running his tattooed hand over his scarred face. “She needs time… And money.” He shook his head. “These girls won’t stay without a paycheque, and she won’t stay afloat if she has to pay out retainers.”

“We can try and get her the time.” Jax grimaced.

“And the money?” His brow raised underneath the brim of his hat.

“We’re only half healed, Otto.” He sighed. “We don’t have money to spare.”

“Yeah…” Otto nodded slowly. “That’s what I thought.” He sighed. Another favor gone unanswered. “This seizure by the feds… It’s Stahl pissing in my mouth for what I did to her. And I did that for SAMCRO.”

“I know that.” Jax nodded sincerely. And he did. But he also knew that Clay would never vote to give away his precious money - especially if he was the one asking.

“I don’t want her back in front of the camera, Jax. I promised her that she would never have to do that again.” And it was a promise that he would’ve been able to keep, had he not put his ass on the line for his club.

“I won’t let that happen. That’s a promise.”

It was a promise. But it was a promise that he had no idea how to keep, and the only way that he could find out was with the help of the one person that he’d never wanted to be indebted to, again.

♕

Weston stalked up the heavily populated sidewalk of Main Street, pushing through the hoards of people that were crowding the shops as their post-Halloween clearance sales began, his determined strides finally carrying him to the entrance of what would soon be the cigar shop.

“Dump those in the back.” Zobelle nodded to the burly men as they carried boxes into the bare room.

Weston waited until the pack mules were out of earshot, the words spilling from his trembling lips the second that they were alone. “She didn’t tell him.” He seethed. 

“What?” Zobelle asked, disinterested.

“Morrow’s old lady.” Weston stomped his foot impatiently. “They don’t know what happened.”

“How do you know?” Zobelle demanded.

“Heard the guys talking with the nigger nanny about Gemma being hurt in a car accident, Clay’s laughing and playing with some little kid.” He shook his head incredulously. “You said this was gonna rip them up!”

“It will.” Zobelle nodded, gripping his henchman’s shoulder as he walked him towards the glass windows that overlooked the small town that would soon be free of scum . “It will. Unravelling The Matriarch will destabilize them. They’re all little boys who need a strong mommy.”

“But if this bitch doesn’t say anything, what the hell does that mean?” Weston scowled.

Zobelle took a deep breath as he carefully considered his answer. “It means that we underestimated Mrs. Morrow…”

♕

Chapter Text

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♕

Jax begrudgingly stalked back into the hospital with a frustration that motivated his long strides across the waiting room, but he painted it over with smugness, just as he had done every day until he - and everybody around him - had started to believe it.

“You know anything about a ‘Georgie Caruso’?” He practically spat at Sydney as he stomped up to where she sat, deeply immersed in her phone.

“Poached a few of Luann’s girls. Why?” Sydney’s brows furrowed as she tried to look up at him disinterestedly, but she couldn’t help the interest that his statement had piqued.

“Well.” Jax ground his teeth as he tore himself out of the inquisitive gaze that he hoped he could capitalize on. “It looks like he’s gonna poach a few more, come with me.”

♕

Gemma yelped from where she sat in the hard leather chair of her hospital room as she tried to lean down far enough to pull her tall boots up under her long skirt, wiping the wince off of her face the second that she heard the door open.

But the wince was only replaced with a grimace as she recognized the large set of black leather boots, straightening up to see Clay standing over her.

“Oh, baby…” Clay shook his head when he finally saw what it was that Gemma didn’t want him to see, dropping down to his knees beside her. “I’m so sorry.” He shook his head, leaning in to kiss her cheek. He didn’t care how bad she thought she looked, he wanted her to know that he was there for her, just the same.

“Um-” Gemma nearly screamed as she placed her hand on his chest to stop him in time.

“I’m sorry.” He pulled back quickly, not realizing that the gentle action would be that painful.

“No, no.” She shook her head as a whirlwind of emotions that she hadn’t had time to expect, began to tingle behind her sore eyes. “It, um, it’s okay. I’m just.” She blinked the tears away as she hid from his gaze. “I’m just kind of jumpy.” She looked down at her hands where she clasped them tightly in her lap as she realized that they had succeeded in doing exactly what they had set out to do, after all; they had ruined her.

“You’re gonna have to lay off the midnight joyrides.” Clay grinned, hoping to lift her spirits with some lighthearted fun that showed her that her swollen face had done nothing to deter him, and it never would.

“Yeah.” Gemma forced a laugh that even she could hear the fakeness of, briefly meeting his eyes the way that his hovering just inches from her face, was begging her to do.

Clay quirked a brow as she squirmed beneath him, refusing to look at him for more than half a second. “You okay?” He had seen Gemma through countless ugly traumas, surely this wasn’t the one that had her fearful of his commitment to her?

Gemma blinked as she contemplated her answer, her lie - a lie that was hard to deliver when it was so far from the truth. “Oh.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she swatted the air. “I’m fine.” She nodded as convincingly as she could as her voice faltered.

Clay scanned her expression, desperately looking for some kind of guidance on what to say to reassure her. “It’s kinda hot…” He smirked. 

Gemma only felt her heart sinking further in her chest, but it didn’t quite reach her stomach, because at least it meant that she had succeeded in her deception. “Thanks.” She chortled, reaching up to the square of gauze taped over her left cheekbone. “It’s what I was goin’ for.”

Clay smiled when he finally saw some of the Gemma that he knew, taking her hands in his as he squeezed them while getting to his feet. “You ready to go home?” He nodded out the door. 

“You know, they have to, uh…” She placed her hand over her forehead as she sifted through the multitude of excuses, for the right one. “Tara said they gotta do some more x-rays…”

“I talked to the Doc… I’m sure she’d be okay if I broke you out of here.” He winked.

Gemma blinked as the sadness hit her once again. “Neeta can give me a lift.” She shook it away.

Clay frowned as she did what she always did; refused to let him help her. “I can wait…” He told her gently. She did so much for him, so much to make his life easier, the least he could do was return the favor. 

“No, honey. It’s okay.” She braced herself for the surge of pain as she reached down to grab her purse. “I guess it’s gonna be a while.” She looked back up at him with whatever sincerity she had managed to gather in the ten seconds since she’d last been forced to meet his eyes.

“You sure?” He narrowed his gaze.

“Yeah.” Gemma swallowed the crack in her voice as the softness in his hit her ears - a softness that he’d only ever cared to give to her. “I’m sure.” She nodded, regaining some strength. “I’m really, I’m-.” She cleared her throat. “I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Clay sighed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her lips, but once again, she didn’t move. He smiled apologetically, reaching for her hands again where he brought them to his lips. “I love you.” 

Gemma felt her lips beginning to wobble. “I love you too…”

♕

“Add these two cameras to the list, okay?” Was the first thing that Sydney heard as she passed through the doorway where the string of pink beads had been parted to allow the unnecessarily large crew of ATF agents easy access as they hauled boxes of equipment from the studio.

“Marvelous…” Chibs mused as he looked around the nearly bare building that still looked every bit entertaining to him.

The small group made their way over to Luann who was tearfully hugging both Lyla and Ima. 

“Otto wasn’t kiddin’...” Jax sighed regretfully. 

The two blondes both nodded to Sydney as they took their leave - a leave that Sydney feared would be their last. “That’s some lovely merchandise walking out that door.” Chibs shook his head.

“And they’ll keep walking if I don’t come up with the rest of their money.” Luann widened her worried blue eyes.

“Otto said some guy’s giving you trouble.” Jax nodded.

“Georgie.” Luann nodded. “The shitbag’s been threatening my girls if they don’t join his company!” She shook her head. “If I can’t keep them away from him, they’ll end up strung out, and turning tricks!” 

Sydney knew that it was true. No matter how unappealing Georgie’s gig was, or how loyal the girls were to Luann - they needed money, and there were only so many other options in a town as small as Charming…

“Can’t you just talk to him?” Jax nodded. “Make some kind of temporary arrangement?”

“That isn’t how it works with this.” Luann shook her head. “Georgie’s game is fear - god damn ‘roid crew runs his girls like pimps running pussy.” Tears began to brim her eyes once again. “If SAMCRO could just lend me some money-”

“That’s not gonna happen.” Jax cut her off.

Sydney closed her eyes in a wince, hanging her head as she looked at the glittery black tiles beneath her shoes, knowing that there was nothing that she could do to help.

Jax stopped himself from scoffing at the older woman’s audacity as she crossed her arms in front of her chest - and it was a restraint that came only because he respected her old man. “Look, I said to Otto that I’d back this guy off of you, and that’s what I’m gonna do.” He nodded.

“And how are you gonna do that?” Luann didn’t bother hiding the scoff of her own. “You can’t just walk in there and threaten them, Jax. They’re not like your-” She searched for the right word. “Gang enemies.”

Jax took a step towards the ballsy woman as she dared to order him around, as if she knew anything about his dealings. “My gang enemies?” He mocked her. “That’s exactly how it works, Luann. And you’re right, he’s not one of my gang enemies, now tell me where his office is.”

Luann rolled her eyes, looking to Sydney for backup, but she got nothing as the little blonde shook her head apologetically. 

Jax smirked as he forced Sydney into the submissive position that she should’ve known to take the day that she’d set foot in his town. As painful and unfortunate as Donna’s death had been, he almost wished that it had happened sooner, because their dirty little secret was going to continue getting him everything that his father would’ve wanted.

Sydney chewed the inside of her cheek as she matched Jax’s glare with a harshness that she wished she still had the means to substantiate, but the simple expression was all that she had left - and that bitter reality made her grateful for the buzzing of her phone in her pocket that gave her a reason to pull away from the degrading staredown.

Lyla👅🍆: I’m sorry, but we have to go to Georgie. You know I love Luann, but I can’t go weeks without pay when Justin is already skipping out on child support…

Sydney sighed, turning away from the tense group as she clicked on the message that opened the private thread between her and Lyla. 

Sydney💋🏍: It’s okay, babe. Take care of Piper, Luann will understand. 

Lyla👅🍆: Is Jax going to help her?

Sydney💋🏍: Does Jax ever help anyone? 🙄 

Lyla👅🍆: Ima seems to think so…

Sydney chuckled, sadly grateful that even a depressing conversation with her friend was better than a productive conversation with her enemy. Ever since the day that she walked into Cara Cara with the release forms that Luann had tried to slip her countless times, Ima had been on her case about hooking her up with Jax.

Sydney💋🏍: Think it would get her to stay?😅

Lyla👅🍆: It might 👀

Sydney💋🏍: 😂 I wish. Even Jax isn’t that easy… 

But the light-hearted exchange was cut short as another message vibrated Sydney’s phone, her eyes travelling up to the top of the screen.

Mary: You seen Opie? He hasn’t seen the kids yet. Never ended up coming home last night…

“You comin’?” Sydney looked up from her phone to see Jax standing above her impatiently. “No, you guys go ahead.” She nodded as a sarcastic smile came to her face. She would let them fuck this one up on their own. “I’m going to go check on Opie’s kids, because apparently he hasn’t.” She waved the phone in his face as she cocked her head before brushing past him and making her way out to her car. 

♕

Tig and Opie stood silently in the back room of what had ended up being the smartest front that they’d seen yet; a gun shop, as Edmund and a few of his employees hauled in the crates full of disassembled AKs that, less than a week ago, they claimed were unattainable.

The pair got to work unloading the parts, spending what felt like an infinite amount of time wordlessly screwing the pieces together until they finally got to the last crate. 

“Need six more.” Opie nodded.

Tig felt like his heart was going to explode as it hammered against his chest, pushing around the slough of worry, dread, and guilt as he was forced to share the same space as the miserable man whose fate he had so cruelly decided before he’d known all of the facts - which wouldn’t have happened if he had just been transparent with Sydney, the way that he had spent months preaching about. 

Sydney . That thought only brought on a whole new wave of nauseating feelings that he didn’t know how to escape. Too many secrets, too many demons, too much noise . 

“You, uh-” He felt the words coming out of his mouth before he could stop them - some kind of desperate attempt at normality . “You doing okay?” 

Opie chewed the inside of his lip as he ignored the stupid question that he was so fucking tired of hearing, reaching for a recoil spring as he avoided the Sergeant’s pitiful blue gaze.

“You know, uh, family and stuff…” Tig pushed further. “I’ve, uh… Spent a lot of time around the kids… You know, since they’ve been at Syd’s.” He nodded thoughtfully as the simple statement inadvertently forced him to relive the agonizing last few months, fighting through the familiar onslaught of overwhelming guilt, and deceptive but genuine sympathy that he hadn’t been able to stop from bleeding into every single part of his life.

In some sick and twisted way, watching Sydney foster the children that had been orphaned by his mistake had only made him fall even more in love with her, because it was exactly what she had done to him. But now he feared that his inability to express that, was going to land him back on the street where he had always known he belonged. 

Opie sighed as he snapped a lever into place. “I guess.” He bit out the lie that he wished would’ve tasted vile, because at least that would’ve meant that he still cared. But it didn’t. He couldn’t feel anything, not even the shame in knowing how disappointed she would’ve been in him.

Tig nodded slowly, bringing his hand up to his face where he rubbed his goatee. “I lost an old lady.” The forbidden words rolled off of his tongue with an ease that only the selfish prospect of easing some of his own guilt could provide. They were forbidden words that had already caused him a world of his own grief, of his own complications - helping him form an adverse understanding for how Opie was feeling, which was what ironically made them that much easier to let go of. 

“Yeah.” He nodded as he felt Opie’s gaze shift to him, focusing on his own gun now as he willed himself to maintain his casual tone. “I dumped an FXR on the I-5… Poor bitch slid right into oncoming traffic.” He looked up, waiting for the sting of tears behind his eyes, or the tingling of regret in his jaw, but when he saw the hollowness momentarily disappear from Opie’s eyes, all he felt was relief. For the first time in months, he had made the right decision.

“Shit, I didn’t know that…” Opie nodded slowly, his own grief taking the backburner for the first time since he’d pulled up to that crime scene. “Your kid’s mom?”

“Nah.” Tig scoffed. “I wish it was that gash. ” He chuckled through the only truth that didn't sting, shaking his head as his smile faded. “Nah, it was before I got patched.” He nodded slowly as the next words came a little harder, but he knew that they were the necessary nails in - or out of - the coffin. “I’d just found out that she was pregnant…” He chewed his lip. “I really loved that one.” 

Opie nodded curtly as he, for the first time, saw the Sergeant - the soldier - as a human being. “I, uh…” He forced his own words of vulnerability out this time, deciding that if he was going to open up to anyone , it may as well be the one person who didn’t have a personal stake in it. “I keep dreaming.” He swallowed. “I’m back in Chino - really violent shit.” He shook his head. “And then I wake up, relieved that I’m home… And it takes me a minute to realize that I’m alone in bed.” 

Tig blinked slowly as the anticipated wave of emotion finally hit, and his eyes brimmed with tears. Had this conversation taken place for any other reason, he would’ve been able to see it as growth - that he was finally starting to make peace with the horrible mistake that he had made all of those years ago, but instead, it was because he had made that same mistake, all over again.

Lessons are repeated until they are learned. And it was clear that he hadn’t learned a damn thing. 

“You’re not alone, Ope.” He nodded as he gripped the taller man’s shoulder.

♕

“Hey!” Kenny whined as Sydney stole a Kit-Kat from his massive pile of Halloween candy that he had spread out, covering the entire kitchen table. 

“You can consider it payment for the costume, young man.” She popped the chocolate into her mouth as she smiled knowingly at the poor boy who was always having his fun ruined by the girls. “Because I know that’s why you got half of this.” She narrowed her eyes.

“Fine… “ Kenny couldn’t argue with that. This was the first year that he’d gotten to pick out a brand new Halloween costume, and by the ohs and ahs that the full-body Incredible Hulk suit had elicited at countless doors last night, he knew that she was right. “You can have two more.” He decided that was fair compensation.

Sydney chuckled, kids . “Pleasure doing business with you.” She nodded, swiping two more Kit-Kats.

“No fair!” Kenny whined. “Those are my favorite!”

“Well you didn’t say which two I could have.” She shrugged, poking him in the ribs. “Besides, they’re my favorite, too.” She winked.

  “Finally, the Tacoma Killer has a worthy opponent.” Sydney scowled as she heard a deep voice beyond the slapping of her gloved hands against Happy’s palms, craning her neck from behind the tattooed man to see a short-haired boy with piercing honey-coloured eyes, and a giant, sparkling white grin.

Happy whipped his head around as worry shocked each cell of his body. The voice didn’t sound particularly threatening , but he had been called by his not-so-infamous moniker, and they were in a building that was supposed to have been empty.

“How you doin’, buddy?” Happy chuckled once he recognized the potential threat as the rowdy new patch from Tacoma.

“How’d you get in here?” He gave Sydney a small nod, dismissing her from their session as he walked over to the side of the boxing ring at Krazy Kane’s. 

“Tank let me in.” He winked, tossing his senior a towel. 

Happy growled as he tried his glistening abs, narrowing his eyes in the direction of the rambunctious prospect who was supposed to be watching the door.

“But the real question is…” The mystery man crooner. “Who is this ?” His mischievous gaze landed on the small girl who couldn’t be more than twelve years old.

“I should ask you, first.” Sydney put her still gloved hands on her hips that she could tell were getting wider. 

“Oh!” The two men both chuckled. “She’s a feisty one…” His light eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, m’lady.” He made a show of curtsying to her. “My name is Donut, future explorer of all the roads, near and far.”

Sydney squinted as she assessed the burly man who stood below her. She knew that if he had both Tank and Happy’s trust, then she had nothing to worry about, but she had been taught to proceed with caution in the presence of men that she didn’t know. 

“You look like a prospect to me.” She scoffed as she jumped down from the ring. It was a lie. Even though the man’s boyish grin couldn’t be any older than twenty-one, his meaty stature definitely could be.

“Oh yeah?” Donut grinned again as he placed his hands on his hips, posing like a Roman God in front of the little girl who revealed herself to be only half of his height. 

“Yeah.” Sydney nodded tauntingly in his shadow that did nothing to faze her. “Besides…” She reached for the Kit-Kat on the edge of the ring that she had been waiting all morning to eat. “Donut is a silly name.” She bit straight down the middle of the wafered rows rather than breaking them off one by one. 

“Well, aren't you just a little psychopath?” Donut laughed as he ruffled her mane of sweaty blonde hair. “You’re trainin’ this one good, huh?” He winked at Happy who gave him a smirk. “What’s your name then, huh? Kitty Cat?” He swiped the chocolate from her hands and held it above her head.

“My name is Sydney Harding, your future queen.” She smirked, making no attempt to grab the candy bar from his large hands that, under her stare of determination, lowered immediately.

“Sydney!” Sydney was pulled from the sensory-induced memory as the chocolate melted on her tongue, looking up to see Ellie skipping down the hallway towards her.

“Hi my precious Rapunzel!” She mused as the young girl wrapped her arms around her, stroking her long hair. “Did you do the braid okay?”

“Yeah.” Ellie looked up with a smile, not unwrapping herself from Sydney’s waist. “I did it like you showed me.”

“That’s my girl.” Sydney nodded as she pulled away. “Did grandma take pictures for me?” 

“More than enough.” Mary rolled her eyes as she appeared in the frame of the back door after packing away the last of the Halloween decorations. “How’re you doing, sweetheart?” She scanned over Sydney’s less-glamorous-than-usual ensemble. “Rough night?” 

Sydney expected herself to tense under the bitter reminder - to find a judgment in the former old lady’s stare, pity in her expression, but she didn’t; all she saw was a blinding understanding for the soul-splitting position that she had put herself in. 

“You have no idea.” She scoffed. “Rough night, rough day, rough life…” She mused.

“Oh, don’t I know it…” Mary nodded as she turned towards the kitchen sink, running her chilled hands under the warm water before lathering them in lemon-scented soap. 

“I don’t know…” Sydney leant over the countertop. “I’d say you’re pretty good at this whole mom thing...” She raised a brow.

Mary narrowed her small eyes over her shoulder at the little blonde who was far too clever to be caught up in this lifestyle. “I could say the same to you.” She nodded, turning back away. “The school loved those cupcakes.”

Sydney nodded slowly, her eyes hollowing as the reminder of her guilt crept back in - the reminder that all of this was compensation , not generosity. 

“Are you gonna sing for me today?” Ellie’s voice came out in a whine as she stood, impatiently waiting to get a word in while her grandma took up the little time that she got to spend with her favorite person. 

“I don’t have time today, honey.” It was a lie, but it was a lie that was necessary, because after the night that she’d had, she didn’t think that her severely damaged wall was strong enough to keep her emotions from seeping through. “You been practicing that new song?” She nodded, avoiding her eyes as she pulled out her phone and began scrolling through the montage of messages that she’d missed in the group chat that Lyla had reverted back to. 

“Where’s dad?” Kenny whined from the table as he tossed a packet of Smarties away from him. “You told us he was supposed to be home yesterday.” 

There was the tense that Sydney had been expecting. The innocent question had been hard enough to stomach when Opie was gone, but now that he was back in town and actively choosing not to see his kids, it almost made the churn unbearable.

“Daddy’s workin’.” She told them with as little emotion or consideration for the circumstances, as possible.

“I wish he didn’t have to work so much.” Ellie sighed.

“Gotta work to pay the bills.” She mused, ruffling the little girl’s dirty blonde hair.

“He should just quit.” Kenny shrugged. 

Sydney snorted. Like mother, like son.  “Well I don’t see you two makin’ any money.” She widened her eyes theatrically, shaking her head playfully at the two long faces.

“I would.” Ellie piped up. “If it meant that he would be home more…”

Sydney felt the room beginning to spin as the innocence took her into a chokehold and threatened to squeeze every last bit of forced deception from her pores.

“You know what…” She shook her head. “Maybe I do have time for one song.”

♕

Jax stalked into the dingy office of said ‘big player’ Georgie Caruso, looking around the space to see nothing but a white desk, and two black leather couches where he recognized one of Luann’s girls, signing forms.

“Oh! I love that movie!” Juice exclaimed as he thrusted his finger towards a ‘Cum Dog Millionaire’ XXX film poster - the only piece of art that hung on the brick walls.

“I laughed, I cried, I came.” Chibs mused as he looked over his shoulder, waiting for Bobby to toddle in the door behind him.

“No shit…” Jax grinned as his entourage finished filing into the tiny room that they filled to the brim. “It must’ve been good… It won an Anal Oscar.” He pointed to the gold stamp in the corner, making everybody laugh.

“Oh, hey, hey, hey.” Bobby looked up to see a tall black man advancing towards him from down the hallway, a shorter white man in tow. “Here we go.” He nodded to the body guards that surely would’ve scared off any disgruntled employees, but they were Sons .

“You need somethin’?” 

“We’re here to see Georgie.” Jax took a step towards them, rolling his shoulders back.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Juice shook his head. “The guy we’re here to talk to, is named Georgie? ” He nearly choked on the laugh.

The men both exchanged a glance before sharing a silent nod. “You got an appointment?” The taller one spoke, sure now of what he had suspected in the first place - that the kuttes weren’t part of an audition.

Jax pursed his lips, that smug smirk gracing his face. “Nope.” He shrugged. 

“Then you don’t see him.” 

“Hey!” A third man joined the now completely cramped space. “Auditions are out back.” He nodded to the back of the building, his thick-framed glasses almost falling off of his wrinkled face.

“Let me guess…” Jax grinned as he looked the sleazy man up and down. “Georgie Caruso.”

“They were just leaving, Mr. Caruso.” Bodyguard number one stepped in between them, shielding Georgie’s short stature completely. 

“That’s too bad…” Georgie’s opportunistic nature took over, stepping out from behind Jones. “This one here has got kind of a Brad Pitt thing going, only not quite as gay.” His lips twitched into a smile as he examined Jax.

“Yeah...” Jax chuckled nervously. “I’m a friend of Luann Delaney.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Is that so?” Georgie mock-pouted. “I’m real sorry about what happened to her studio…”

“You terrorizing her actors? It stops now.” Jax nodded.

“I’m helpin’ those girls.” Georgie shrugged. “Luann is out of business.”

“Luann’s not out of business.” Jax took another intimidating step forward - an action that had become almost second nature to him. 

“That’s not what I heard.” Georgie smirked as his beady eyes flicked down to Jax’s lips.

Jax raised his brows. “Don’t make me come back here.” He grinned menacingly, Chibs and Juice both doing the same as they followed him out. 

“You got a problem?” Bobby heard through his ringing ears, blinking a few times as he refocused his eyes to see Georgie standing just inches away from his face, the overwhelming scent of his spicy cologne inducing a spray of projectile vomit that had been threatening him all morning. 

“Oh!” Juice hollered while Jax and Chibs went into hysterics as Bobby covered Georgie’s tan suit in his welcome home spread.

“Not now, man.” Bobby nodded as he wiped his mouth. “I’m feelin’ pretty good, thanks.”

♕

Sydney stood in the hallway with her hands over her burning face as she fought the pain in her heart that only seemed to get worse each time that she gave in to singing the gut-wrenching songs that comforted the grieving little girl. She felt herself beginning to hyperventilate, launching herself into the bathroom before she could be seen by Mary - the one person in the house that she couldn’t play off her reactions to.

She blew out a breath as she leant her head against the closed door. She supposed that was part of the reason why she had found so much solace in Opie’s kids - not just because she felt like it was the only way that she could right her wrong, but because they didn’t ask questions. They couldn’t tell when she was choked up, or when she was lying, or how many smoke breaks were too many smoke breaks. They didn’t have any expectations of her, and she didn’t have any expectations of them. There was no lingering disappointment like she felt when she was in the presence of Tig, or Jax, or Gemma, or anyone in Charming. 

“Sweetheart, you okay?” She heard a gentle knocking at the door, the spike of anxiety forcing her to pull herself together. 

“Yup.” She blinked a few times as she pulled the door open to see Mary standing behind it with a frown. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave Ellie in there… Those Disney songs always get me choked up.” She chortled.

Mary nodded sympathetically. “You have a beautiful voice.” She smiled.

“If only I’d picked a different career path.” She snorted.

“You know…” Mary reached out and grabbed her hand, looking into her eyes with a sincerity strong enough to threaten every lie and fake smile that Sydney had spent the last three months perfecting. “It’s never too late.” She nodded.

Sydney stared at the older woman’s pudgy hands wrapped around hers, her gaze flicking up as a familiar defensive fire warmed her chest. “What about you, Mary?” She seethed. “It too late for you?”

♕

Gemma groaned with each painful step that she took down the hallway of St. Thomas as Neeta escorted her to the car with Abel in hand, stopping in the doorway of the waiting room when she saw Luann holding a towel-wrapped ice pack to a blonde girl’s face.

“Shit…” She quickly turned around and shuffled back down the hallway.

“It’s gonna be okay, just tip your head back a little bit.” Luann nodded to Lyla as she wiped her bleeding nose. “I don’t think it’s broken.”

“What?” Neeta scowled, following Gemma back around the corner.

“Uh.” Gemma took a deep breath as she tried to figure out what the right answer was. “That’s just somebody that I don’t wanna see - she’s gonna have a million questions.”

“We can wait in here.” Neeta nodded without a second thought, ushering Gemma into the chapel that she thankfully found to be empty.

Gemma nearly rolled her eyes when she saw what her safe haven was. “Okay.” She sighed. Thirty-five years, one state, countless towns, and she still couldn’t escape it.

Neeta felt herself struggling to breathe as she watched Gemma painfully take a seat in the pew next to her, fearing that the suspicions she’d had since the unscheduled doctor’s appointment for the baby this morning, weren’t far from the truth. 

“I’m not gonna do it today…” She began as she lifted Abel from his carseat, and passed him to the woman that clearly needed the healing powers that the innocence of a child possessed. “Cause I ain’t a stupid sister.” She waited for Gemma to meet her eyes. “But you know at some point, I’m gonna have some questions.”

Gemma nodded slowly when yet another person managed to see through her horrible front. “I know…” She sighed. 

Neeta nodded curtly. “While we’re here.” She looked around the red, velvet-covered room. “You wanna say a prayer with me?”

Gemma scoffed. “I’m not big on prayin’.” She licked her swollen lip, looking back down at her grandson.

“Sure you are.” Neeta smiled warmly. “Look at the way you holdin’ him… I can see it in yo’ face. You thakin’ God.”

Gemma didn’t necessarily believe her, but the comforting southern accent of the dark-skinned woman who was willing to sit with her while she processed her trauma, was enough for her to nod anyways.

♕

Sydney’s eyes widened as she waltzed back into the hospital, rushing over to where Luann was crouched on the floor next to a bleeding Lyla.

“Oh my God!” She dropped to her knees in front of her friend, taking over for Luann who was struggling to position the bag of melting ice. “Was this Georgie?”

“Yup.” Lyla sighed. 

“Why didn’t you call me?” She shook her head.

“I figured we’d already caused enough trouble…” Lyla’s considerate blue eyes crinkled as she forced an apologetic smile.

“Yeah… Speaking of trouble.” Luann scoffed as she saw Jax approaching across the room, getting to her feet to meet him halfway. “I told you not to stir things up! Look what that asshole did to her!” 

Jax scowled, making his way over to Lyla where he yanked the ice from Sydney’s hands to get a look at her face, before tossing it back into her lap. “This was Caruso?” It had barely been an hour since they’d left Georgie’s office, surely he hadn’t taken the threat that lightly?

“Who do you think?” Luann spit at him.

“Little prick.” Chibs shook his head.

“You guys must’ve really put the fear of God into him.” Luann crooned. “Tell ‘em what Georgie said.” She nodded to Lyla.

Lyla sighed, pulling the bag away from her face. “He told me to tell Luann that if the little biker boys show up again, he’s gonna roll the cameras while he jams his dick up all of your asses.” Sydney couldn’t help but snort, helping Lyla get the bag back up to her face in time to cover her smirk. 

Jax nodded. “We’ll see Gemma later.” He turned on his heels, heading back out the door. 

“Jax!” Luann called after him. “Don’t you do anything!”

Jax felt his anger bubble over in the presence of yet another person whom he knew would allow it to. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” He screamed, whirling back around where he stomped up to the little gash who he owed nothing to. Everything that he was doing for her, was out of the goodness of her heart - and he was going to make sure she knew that. 

“Who the fuck do you?” Sydney stepped in between them the second that Jax advanced on the older woman who immediately backed down, throwing her arms up in defense as she began spewing apologies. “You’re fucking talking to a woman who told you exactly what would happen, and as usual, you couldn’t fucking listen! This?” She pointed to Lyla. “Is on you , not her.”

Jax looked between the two seething women. “Get her patched up.” He thrusted his finger into Luann’s trembling face, making her jump. “Tell your girls to lock their doors. And you…” He growled as his hateful blue eyes turned on Sydney. “You would know a lot about carrying the weight of injured women.” He smirked as a brilliant idea came to him. “Now call the others, it’s baseball time.”

Sydney felt blood fill her mouth as she harshly bit down on the insides of her cheeks before storming outside to do exactly what he wanted, just like she’d been forced to do every time that he knew he was going to lose, because she had so stupidly given him a way to win. 

♕

Tig couldn’t tell if his admission to Opie had done anything to lessen the weight that had been suffocating him for the last twenty-two years, because the phone call that he’d received from Sydney only seemed to drop it right back down as the same situation continued to present itself; his old lady, in danger because of him. And this time it really was because of him, because if he hadn’t fucked up so badly, she wouldn’t have had to seek refuge away from him, at Cara Cara.

He took a deep breath as he pulled into the small parking lot with Opie, spotting Sydney where she sat on a bench outside the doors. He sighed as he prepared himself to face her, hanging his helmet over his handlebars as he approached wearily, but she didn’t even acknowledge him as she stormed right past him and stopped in front of Opie.

“You need to see your fucking children.” She spit at him before he could even utter a greeting. “Explain to them why they know me, more than they know you. Because I am tired of dodging the question.” She sneered before stomping to her car where she peeled out of the lot.

♕

“God…” Ima moaned from where she was crouched between her new castmate’s legs. “You’re so stiff…” She stroked up her thighs, her hands creeping under the red athletic shorts that he wore. “You know…” She bit her lip. “You won’t score in the second half…”

“Georgie!” She looked up, scurrying to her feet as a barrage of screams and bangs began to fill the studio as the Sons stormed in, taking down anybody in their path.

“Hey!” Georgie stood from his director’s chair. “Get the hell out! This is a closed set!” He eyed Jones who stood to take care of it, but quickly found himself on the ground after a baseball bat to the face.

Any fear that Ima had, was erased the second that she saw Jax… But he didn’t have to know that. She got to the ground and curled herself into a ball, peeking up through her thick false lashes until the VP finally made eye contact and made his way over. 

“You okay?” He helped her to her feet while his crew smashed anything, and anyone in sight.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “After I saw what they did to Lyla, I just…” She shook her head frantically. 

“It’s okay.” Jax nodded. “Sack!” He hollered to a tall, skinny kid. “Get her out of here.” He ordered before passing her off, much to her dismay.

“Hey!” Georgie hollered again as he watched Chibs kick his most expensive camera to the ground.

Jax scoffed, walking up the shorter man who immediately started backing up, sucker punching him square in the face where he landed to the ground with a force that nearly paralyzed him. 

Jax smirked as he got to his knees and forced Georgie’s face into the concrete. “You so much as send a friendly text to any of Luann’s girls, your next movie? Canseco does Georgie .” The man below him sighed. “You understand?”

“I get it.” He grit out. 

“Good.” Jax patted him on the shoulder before getting to his feet and waltzing out. 

♕

Sydney puffed on a cigarette as she sat in the very chair that, just a few short months ago, had her feeling the highest of highs, but now only dragged her to the lowest of lows.

“There’s a ton of guys like Georgie out there.” Jax nodded to the full table. “If Luann can’t pay her talent, they’ll keep coming… So to speak.” He smirked.

Sydney wished that she could laugh, but she kept her heavy head down as Jax spoke to what had become his table, what they had allowed to become his table, even from the left-hand seat.

“That’s why Otto wants us to give her money.” Clay nodded over the chorus of snickers.

“That’s not gonna happen.” Tig shook his head. 

“Obviously.” Jax fought the bite in his tone. “But we can offer her something else… A partner.”

Clay scowled, the cigar smoke trailing over his lips as he tried to figure out where his VP was going with this. “What are you talkin’ about?” He nodded. “All of a sudden you’re Larry Flynt?” He raised a brow, watching as Tig stifled a laugh. 

“Georgie’s just a scumbag with muscle and a lease, right?” The consideration left Jax’s tone the second that he detected hesitance in Clay’s. “His staff and talent do all the work. Well, we can have staff, and talent too if we partner with Luann.”

“So we’ll be the scumbags with muscle and a lease?” Bobby nodded.

“Why not?” Jax looked to the man on his left. “We take over the lease, front her a little cash for the shit that the feds took. Keeps Otto happy, keeps Luann in business, and gives us a legitimate stream of income if we split the profits.”

Tig nodded along as he listened to each blissful word that passed through Jax’s mouth. Not six months ago, the prospect of owning a porn studio would’ve been comforting for much different reasons, but now, they were strictly business - not pleasure. He hoped that maybe, Sydney would give up the new job that he had hated so much, that he knew she took because he hated it so much, if it was no longer an escape from the club - or from him.

“I could upgrade her internet and shit.” Juice nodded. “There’s plenty of room for servers at Cara Cara, and that’s where the real cash is.”

“And I was blessed with an excellent eye for casting.” Chibs added with a cheeky grin.

“Clubs get into trouble when they take on too much.” Clay shook his head.

“Guns have been downsized. We could use the extra income.” Jax shot him down quickly, his anger boiling as he heard the phlegmy sigh. “It’s a legitimate business, Clay.” He growled. “We run it clean - feds think we turned over a new leaf, they go away.  

“And…” Chibs widened his eyes. “At the very least, we’ll get Bobby laid.” Everybody laughed.

Clay sighed again. “Thoughts?” He turned to the right side of the table - the side that he knew would have his back. 

“I’m in.” Tig nodded quickly. 

Sydney scoffed. Of course he fucking was . Keeping her head down as she rolled her eyes and twisted his ring around her thumb. 

“Everybody loves pussy.” Chibs shrugged. 

“I second that.” Opie nodded.

“Third it.” Juice grinned.

“All in favor? Like I gotta ask…” Clay rolled his eyes as he rubbed his forehead, listening to the hollers that came for all the wrong reasons… “Alright…” He narrowed his eyes at Tig who continued to put his own needs before the needs of his club, before the needs of his President - before smacking the gavel. “Looks like we’re makin’ movies.” He got to his feet. “Now we got a delivery to make.”

“I’ll tell Luann she’s got a new partner.” Jax smirked, his eyes following Clay as he scurried out of the chapel after yet another defeat. 

♕

Sydney had been the first to exit the chapel after Clay. She was surprised - and slightly disappointed - by how quickly the visiting charters had cleared out as she made her way through the empty compound, since the party had filled the space to the brim not twenty-four hours ago. 

Kitty Cat: Now who’s the one leaving without a goodbye kiss…

The Road Captain chuckled as he read the message across the screen of his Blackberry, thumbing back a surprisingly quick response as his thick thumbs found the tiny buttons.

D🍩: Figured I stole enough last night… Didn’t wanna make Flea-bag too mad ;) You get that worked out?

Sydney rolled her eyes as she stuffed her phone into the bottom of her purse, foregoing the answer that, at this rate, she didn’t know if she would ever have an answer to. She chucked her bag onto the passenger seat of her car, making to climb in when she noticed that the light to the office was on. 

She looked around before cautiously making her way across the pavement, peering inside the small room to find Gemma sorting through order sheets.

“Gem…” 

Gemma jumped, blinking rapidly as her eyes landed on Sydney, trying to force her nervous system to recognize her the way that her eyes had been able to. “Oh.” She finally caught her breath. “Hi, baby.” She looked back down out of that painfully apprehensive green gaze. “Just, uh… Catchin’ up. You know I hate falling behind.” 

Sydney said nothing as her eyes scanned over the battered woman in the bulky clothing that she knew she was hiding under, feeling her eyes welling up with tears once again. 

“You and Tig have fun last night?” She nodded, going for the subject that she knew would stop any kind of conversation. She knew that Sydney knew, but she also knew that if she acted like it, then she would do something about it. And she couldn’t have that.

Sydney nodded slowly, understanding now what this was as she turned back out to the parking lot where she saw Tig and some of the others getting ready to head out to Laroy. She blew out a shaky breath, wrapping her arms around herself as she made her way back to her car as a crawl rippled under her skin.

“Hey.” She nearly screeched to a halt as the ear-grating voice hit her ears, looking up to see Tig jogging over. “You coming?” 

But Sydney’s already spotty attention was stolen away as she watched Gemma painstakingly move around the office, through the open door - studying each one of her stunted movements. 

“No…” She decided as she felt the nagging agitation seep into her bones, not taking her eyes off of the older woman.

“Why not?” Tig scowled. 

“That wasn’t a car accident…” She breathed out, shaking her head as she carried on the observation that continued to produce one regretful conclusion.

“What do you mean?” Tig followed her inquisitive gaze.

“What happened to Gemma.” She snapped her head back into place, her frustration foregoing an impatient eye roll and skipping straight to a glare of intolerance.

Tig blinked as he tried to make sense of what she was saying - what he refused to entertain the thought of, because if she was right, then it would mean that he had failed gravely. Again. 

“Okay, I’ll see you at home later then, I guess.”

“Yeah…” 

“I love you.” He narrowed his eyes, watching as she zoned out once again. “Sydney.” He nudged her. 

“What?” She snapped out of it, shaking her head.

“What’s going on?” The gentle way in which the tender question rolled off of his tongue in such concern should’ve melted her, but instead, the blatant obliviousness only made her blood boil as he stood before her like he had no idea what could possibly be wrong - not a clue why she was so shaken. But deep down, she knew that it was the same reason that he had been acting this way the entire time; because taking responsibility would mean dealing with the consequences, and he would rather continue to sweep them - and her - under the rug. And that realization made her anger red hot.

“I was with Jax.” She blurted out before she even realized what she was saying, her eyes widening as she hurried to amend the statement that had come out so horribly premature, but that was when she saw it on his face… Concern. Worry. Care . 

“W-what?” Tig nearly choked on his own tongue as he felt his mouth go dry, his ever-pounding heart coming to a full stop.

“Yeah.” She blinked, straightening up. She was no longer ashamed, or guilty. She was angry. “After you left for Nevada.” Her statements were sharp, and left nothing up to the imagination as she stared him down in her desperation to get something from him other than fucking monotony - some kind of sign that he still cared. 

“D-did you?” He choked out, his glossy eyes looking her up and down in horror.

“No. I didn’t.” She bit out. “Because I wanted you , not him.” She shook her head. “But maybe I should’ve, because it doesn’t look like it would’ve made a difference.” She looked him up and down now.

Tig exhaled as he clenched his fists, chewing the inside of his lip. “Why would you tell me when you know that there’s nothing I can do about it?” He whispered through gritted teeth.

Sydney scoffed - the action only adding insult to injury. “I guess I just wanted to know what your idea of doing something about it, would be.” She cocked her head. “But I can’t say I’m all that surprised that, as usual, you’ve chosen to do nothing.”

♕

Chapter Text

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♕

Tara crept across the pavement on the soles of her black leather boots, to the point where she was almost tiptoeing as she scurried through the dark compound that was void of any bikes - a sight that, a few months ago, would’ve had her elated, but now it only sent the growing chill further up her spine to know that Gemma had been left alone.

She felt her feet carrying her even faster, sending her gliding towards the office door where the only source of light could be seen, praying that she was not about to walk into something horrible -  something else horrible.

She sighed as she peered into the doorway to see Gemma, asleep in her desk chair. Her prayers had been answered, but as usual, they had been answered with a double-edged sword, because though the sight wasn’t the kind of horrible that she wished she hadn't had to fear, it was still a kind of horrible that made her heart crack beneath her chest.

She smiled sadly, crossing the small room where she crouched next to the battered woman, slowly sliding her hand over her’s where she watched her jump in a way that she understood all too well. 

“It’s me.” She whispered, staring deep into her eyes in the calming way that Sydney learned to ease her mind with after each time that she had inadvertently startled her with her touchiness. “Sorry I’m so late…”

“Wha-” Gemma finally caught her breath as she looked around the dark room. “What time is it?” 

“It’s almost 10:00 P.M..” Tara watched her clutch her forehead as tears filled her panicked eyes. “How are you?” She asked gently.

 “I’m fine.” Gemma nodded as she struggled to get to her feet with a grunt. “Gotta get to the house… Neeta is probably worried sick.” She scoffed, cursing herself for the only moment that hadn’t been agonizing to endure, in the last twenty-four hours.

“Gemma…” Tara followed her to the door where she turned to face her with a pain that she could only imagine the magnitude of. “You need to talk to somebody about what happened… It doesn’t mean you’re weak, it just-”

“That’s why I’ve got you.” Gemma whispered, nodding as she squeezed Tara’s hand before making her way out to the car.

♕

Tig rolled to a stop behind the van in the dark alley as Laroy’s vehicles pulled into the discreet lane from the opposite side, and drove towards them. 

“Alright, boys.” The Sergeant nodded to Opie and Bobby who had pulled up beside him, making to dismount his machine in order to lead the brigade, but his body didn’t move as his eyes fell on Opie who sighed with his gaze glued to his fuel tank. He blinked, exchanging a glance with Bobby where he nodded for the older man to take the lead.

“I, uh.” He turned his attention to Opie, but he couldn’t quite meet his eyes as he too glued his gaze downwards. “I’m sorry about Syd… She, uh-” He cleared his throat as it became lodged with yet another lie. “She’s just hungover.”

“She didn’t say anything that wasn’t the truth.” Opie nodded curtly. “I need to get right with that.”

Tig chewed the inside of his lip as he nodded along, wishing that he could protest; that his actions wouldn’t have given him something to protest, in the first place.

Clay raised a brow as he rounded the back of the van to see Bobby unloading the guns, his scowl deepening as his gaze landed on a very guilty looking Tig, and a very sad looking Opie - a sight that had the power to dismantle the entire club, in seconds. 

Tig’s head snapped up when he heard a whistle from his President, shaking his sorrow away and getting back to business where he scurried over to help Bobby.

“Two dozen AKs.” The Sergeant announced with a curt nod.

“Where’s Taylor Swift at?” Teaj nodded with a sly grin.

“Couldn’t make it.” Clay forced a smile as he answered the very good question that once again, Tig should have eliminated the need to ask. 

Laroy pursed his lips as he nodded slowly. “Pay the man.” He told Teaj, both leaders deciding to let it slide - only because of what had transpired earlier in the day.

Tig smiled sarcastically as he took a step forward and swiped the envelope from the shorter man, but the smile didn’t stay on his face long as the sound of gunshots ripped through his ears, and sent him dropping to the ground.

“Shit!” Bobby howled as he clutched his shoulder where he had been hit.

Tig’s heart felt like it was about to burst in his chest as it pounded with an anxiety that was all too familiar, for far too many reasons. But he shook the thought away as he pulled out his gun and immediately started firing off warning shots. “Go, go!” He yelled to Chibs as he covered him, allowing the Scot and the prospect to haul their injured brother to safety. 

“Come on, fool!” He heard from one of Laroy’s men, looking around to see that everybody else was scrambling to get behind whatever they could, and he was the only one standing out in the open. Just like a Sergeant should have been.

He nodded, taking his time backing up as he allowed the Niners to take over the retaliation - searching for the source of the enemy fire, which he found to be an old car parked in a hidden driveway, just feet away.

“Clay, it’s the Mayans!” Chibs hollered from the other side of the van as the enemy fire in question began to reveal itself as coming from multiple locations - multiple locations that had them surrounded. 

“Bobby’s bleeding real bad!” Half-Sack called from between two dumpsters, trying to keep his composure in the scene that took him directly back to his days in the army.

The Sons all exchanged silent looks as they tried to devise a game plan to get out of there before it was too late, when the sound of screeching tires broke up the gunshots that immediately ceased.

Teaj nodded furiously as he readied himself for what he knew he needed to do as right-hand, launching himself out from behind the van where he shot blindly at the oncoming truck where a man jumped out of the bed and took him down with a single shot before bolting over the guns.

Clay sighed through his heavy breathing as he realized what this ambush was really about. “Hold your fire, man.” He shook his head at a fuming Laroy who was about to send another one of his men out to die for this. “Let them have the guns.”

“Those are our guns!” The younger man yelled over the chaos.

“We’ll get you more goddamn guns!” He rolled his eyes, ripping the envelope of money out of Tig’s pocket and whipping it towards the gang leader. “We gotta take care of our gu-”

But the President trailed off as his eyes widened while he watched Opie stand from where he had hidden behind a car, his eyes hollowing as he walked himself directly into the line of fire after watching Teaj go down.

“Ope…” Tig shook his head slowly as he saw what he knew was happening...

“Opie!” Chibs screamed as the Mayans hauled the guns into the bed of the trunk, and turned their attention to where he was standing, motionless. 

“Jesus Christ.” Clay winced.

“Ope!” Tig screamed as the Mayan lifted his gun, snarling as he ran out after the rogue member who, at the last second, lifted his gun without a drop of fear for the shots being fired at him, and managed to take down both men before the truck sped away.

All that could be heard was a deafening silence as the ringing in their ears took over, turning their attention to Chibs as he assessed Bobby’s wound.

“Is it bad?” Opie snapped out of his haze , looking for the closest distraction once he realized that he had drawn an audience. 

“Nah, it’s just a scratch.” Chibs joked as he and Half-Sack lifted Bobby to his feet. “Let’s go!”

“Real nice homecoming.” Bobby scoffed.

“Get the hell out of here!” Clay yelled to both his crew and Laroy’s, his concern-filled gaze lingering on Opie who practically bolted to his bike, and hightailed it out of there before anybody could ask any questions. 

♕

Tara took a shaky breath as she slowly followed a limping Gemma up the short pathway to Jax’s front door, the ringing of her cellphone in the pocket of her fitted jacket startling her as it sliced through the frigid night air.

Gemma felt her heart spike as the only noise that could be heard for what felt like miles, sent her directly back into fight or flight. She winced as she forced it down, taking the opportunity to get herself inside and away from Tara’s gaze while she was distracted.

“I’m sorry.” The Matriarch began apologizing profusely as she crossed the threshold to see the brand new nanny sitting at the kitchen table with a bible in her hand. “I went back to the office to get some work done.” She shook her throbbing head before instinctually clutching her forehead. “Fell asleep. You didn’t have to stay.”

“It’s okay.” Neeta nodded with a comforting smile that Gemma wished she could express her gratitude for. “Feel better.” She nodded as she got to her feet, pulling her purse across the table where she made to pack away her bible, but she felt Gemma’s hands on her arm, stopping her. 

Gemma blinked, her lips trembling as she tried to find the words that she would’ve struggled to get out on a good day, but the moment of grace was cut short as Tara burst through the door.

“Excuse me…” She shrunk down once she realized that she had clearly interrupted something sacred . “I, um.” She blinked as she looked between the two women. “I have to go to the clubhouse… Medical emergency .” She was confident that she could trust Neeta, and she was now fairly confident that Gemma did too, but that was a conversation that they hadn’t had the time to have yet, and she wasn’t about to rely on her assumptions in a time like this.

“Oh, shit.” Gemma sighed - her usual reaction to medical emergencies , but her sigh of discontent was quickly replaced by the sudden need for air as a panic washed over her stronger than any hot flash that she had experienced since she’d started menopause. Because she realized that this may have happened because of them . Because of her . 

♕

Tig stood motionlessly beside Gemma in the middle of the clubhouse as Tara stuffed as much gauze as she could into Bobby’s profusely bleeding wound, the commotion doing nothing to snap him out of it as his ears began ringing, and his eyes blurred. He knew that Sydney was right as he examined her battered face, her baggy clothes - two things that had never gone hand in hand for his old friend. He had known Gemma for decades , and she was no stranger to taking a punch every now and then, but anytime that her face wasn’t perfect, she had always made sure that the rest of her appearance was . 

“Is it bad?” Bobby gurled as he held a bloody towel against his collarbone.

Gemma blinked nervously once she realized that her attempt to act natural , was only drawing attention to how unnatural she was acting - stepping out of Tig’s sad blue gaze, and making her way over to the injured man.

“You’re lucky.” Tara nodded. “It ripped right through.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ…” Jax sighed, shaking his head as he stood in the doorway after narrowly missing the apparent bloodbath. 

“Mayans.” Tig nodded, doing whatever he could to distract himself from the truth that he knew he couldn’t handle right now, but the distraction only hammered his brain with more unbearable news; that maybe the two were connected… “They crashed our delivery.” He shook the possibility away.

Jax barely flinched when he realized that he had likely been the cause of this - because apparently Tig didn’t realize it, exchanging a prideful nod with Tara as she pulled on a pair of gloves. Maybe they could make this life work, after all .

“You okay, bro?” He crouched to meet Bobby’s eyes.

“Yeah.” The bearded man winced. “I’m in good hands.” He looked up at Tara gratefully. 

“They got away with two cases of the AKs.” Half-Sack reported to his VP.

Gemma suddenly felt like the room was shrinking, like the walls were closing in on her as she realized exactly what had happened. They were still selling guns to colour, because of her. The ambush had happened, because of her. Bobby had been hurt, because of her. 

She placed her hand over her throbbing cheek that was only beginning to sear as her face heated up, her fingers falling overtop of her trembling lips as she feared that she was going to be sick.

“Oh, man…” Jax shook his head sympathetically once he got his first look at his mother since her car accident.

“Yeah.” Gemma painted on a silly frown as she tried not to jump out of her skin when Jax placed what she was sure was meant to be a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“Jax.” Clay’s voice cut the moment short. “In here.” He ordered.

Tig still hadn’t been able to form the connection between Jax’s rogue efforts the day before, and the Mayan attack as his eyes fell back on Gemma who immediately turned away from him, and made her way across the room. 

His gaze followed her, his heart followed her, but his feet didn’t. He had just started taking steps in the right direction, he couldn’t afford to backtrack.

♕

“That little judgment call you made?” Clay raised a brow from where he was leant back against the table with his hands on his hips. “For the good of the club ? Almost killed Bobby.” He sneered.

“I see that.” Jax nodded.

Clay stared into his hollow blue eyes for a few seconds - those same hollow blue eyes that had almost cost him his club, once already. “Whatever you may think the truth is? Everything that I do, is to protect what we got.” He kept his voice as level as possible. “It’s never arbitrary, and it’s never reactive.” He spit out. “I’ve been doing this for thirty years, I know a few things.”

“Taking that tag off the Mayan? That was the right decision, and you know it.” Jax nodded as sincerely as he had in the face of his stepfather, in months.

Clay sighed. He did know that - but that wasn’t the point. “You wanna challenge me? Fine. I don’t give a shit.” He pushed himself off of the table. “But the minute that it stops becoming about this club, and it starts becoming personal? They’ll know that.” He nodded out the window. “They’ll lose respect for you, and they won’t trust you anymore. And then you’ll be handlin’ everything on your own.” He growled menacingly. “Think about that.”

And the President hoped that he would. Because it was the truth, but it was a truth that he hoped the younger man wouldn’t try to learn in the same way that he did...

♕

Tig tried to calm his heavy breathing as he made his way up the path to Sydney’s house much faster than he had any other day in the last three months, doing everything that he could to ignore the logical part of his brain that was telling him that something could have happened to her in the time that they had been apart, the same way that it had happened to Gemma. He blinked as he tackled the short set of steps, two at a time - his panic only building as he realized that he couldn’t see any light coming from inside the house, and both her car and bike were in the garage.

Maybe she went to a shoot . He used the ironic excuse to try and calm his racing mind, but he knew that Luann hadn’t been holding anything tonight after the asset seizure, and subsequent partnership meeting with Jax.

Georgie . The lightbulb went off as he turned his key, and the lock clicked open. Maybe she had gone to Georgie’s with the other girls . But that was yet another ironic excuse that did nothing to satisfy his worry for her wellbeing. 

“Syd?” He called once he stepped over the threshold, getting no reply. “Sydney!” He called again, getting more frantic as he bolted up the stairs to find the second floor just as dark and as empty as the first. “Fuck…” He bit his quivering lip, pulling out his phone where he dialed the number that he had become far too familiar with, praying that she had just ended up going out with the girls, going out of town, going somewhere to get away from him - he didn’t care, as long as she was safe. 

But his heart only continued to sink as he listened to the line trill until finally her voicemail picked up, another thing that he was getting far too familiar with. He ended the call, shoving his phone back into the pocket of his jeans as he flew back down the stairs, and did one final sweep of the house where something caught his eye; a glimpse of white-blonde hair, shining under the moonlight where she sat on the white couch that took up a majority of the back porch.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he stalked over to the sliding glass door, yanking it open with a little more effort in the cooler night air as November rolled in. “There you are.” He huffed as he stepped out onto the freshly stained deck that she had insisted on doing herself; something that, at the time, he had found attractive, but now realized was likely just another reason to escape his company - a reason that he had been too selfish to see, until now... 

Sydney said nothing as she stared into the distance, nodding her heavy head as the ice cubes clinked in her glass of whiskey.

“Aren’t you cold out here?” He raised a brow as a chill rolled up his spine even under the multiple layers that he was wearing, while she sat in nothing but an oversized hoodie. 

“No.” She answered distantly as she lifted the glass to her lips.

Tig sighed as the hollowness in her voice brought him back to reality - a rocky reality that wasn’t much better than the swirling clouds of regretful truth that he was desperately trying to outrun. He knew that he couldn’t tell her about what had happened without those clouds raining down on any progress that he had been trying to make - especially after what she had told him earlier tonight. And wet rocks were much easier to slip on, so instead he sat himself down next to her without a word.

Sydney felt herself tense up as his arm brushed against hers, the brief contact sending a shock through her body even through their collectively thick clothing. She forced her muscles to relax - which only made her tremble - before draining her glass. 

Tig frowned as he felt the familiar fear radiating off of her as she tried to sit in his presence without jumping out of her skin. He took a deep breath, hanging his head as he allowed himself to feel the pain in his heart that he had tried valiantly to push down. 

“Sydney…” He sighed sadly. “Are we gonna keep ignoring all this shit?” 

“I don’t know.” She answered quickly, her eyes remaining unfocused as she continued to avoid his. “You won’t talk… I won’t ask…” She shook her head. “Maybe it’s better that way…” She finally turned to face him. “We gave transparency a shot, tried to be people that we aren’t - look where that’s gotten us…” She nodded just as sadly.

Tig blinked through what was easily the most abundant wave of shock that he had experienced during the particularly shocking day. “I-” He felt his throat lock up as he shook his head incredulously. “I don’t wanna go back to that…” He had no idea how to tell her that he would’ve exploded had he not been able to be transparent with her, but apparently achieving what he always thought had been an unattainable transparency on a club level , had only muddied the waters of their relationship. “Keeping shit from each other.” He shook his head.

“I do.” She nodded sadly. Because at least when she hadn’t known every horrible thing about him, he’d still felt like there was good that he could show her. “There was a reason that people thought that we moved too fast…” She looked back down into the bottom of her empty glass.

Tig’s brows furrowed. “I thought that there was a reason why we didn’t care what anyone else thought?” He felt the weight getting heavier where he was bracing himself against his knee to try and look into her downturned eyes. 

“So did I.” She looked back to him with tear-filled eyes - something that she had not allowed herself to do in the face of his demons, since the day that they had won. “But I don’t think that we have that reason on our side anymore…”

“Sydney…” His weakened voice came out in a plea as he felt his entire face starting to sting with the threat of tears. “Don’t do this… Don’t push me away.” He shook his head as he tried to search for the right thing to say as the volume in his head suddenly seemed to be fully cranked. “I can’t lose you right now…” Not after how hard he had fought to keep her.

“You’re not losing me.” She shook her head firmly. “But… I’m losing you.” Her voice cracked.

He blinked through his fuzzy head. He had no idea how she had managed to keep her composure the last time that they’d had this conversation - a conversation that he still regretted, every day. “Please don’t get rid of me…” He shook his head as right and wrong began to blur together, and desperation took over. “Don’t get rid of me like you got rid of Hap, I can’t take tha-”

“I didn’t get rid of Hap.” She snapped, her head whipping towards him angrily - the only thing that his subconscious knew would prove to the even angrier voices, that she cared. “Hap got rid of me.” 

“Syd…” He immediately felt a punch of guilt as he watched her chest begin to heave, even under the giant sweater that she was wearing. 

“I know better than to beg someone to stay.” She sneered through her clenched teeth as her hateful gaze bore a hole of shame right through his selfish tactics.

“You know, Syd…” He sighed as he twirled a ring around his finger. “Sometimes, in this life? We say shit that we don’t mean…” He hadn’t meant to upset her with the reminder of both men that had turned her away, and it was still his full intention to patch things up between what he knew was just a misunderstanding with Happy, because the weight of one rejection would surely be far lighter than the weight of two…

“Well then let this be your lesson not to.” She growled as she slammed her glass down onto the table, and stomped back into the house.

♕

“Your intel was good.” Ethan Zobelle heard down the line, looking over his shoulder to be sure that Weston couldn’t hear the accented man on the other end. “I owe you.”

“Yes you do.” The cigar dealer nodded, waiting for a farewell, but he got nothing. Gangs , he sighed, snapping the phone shut.

“Who was that?” Weston scowled as he looked up from the desk where had been tirelessly entering repetitive details into the company start up program.

“Oh, it was just…” Zobelle blinked as he stuffed the phone back into his suit pocket. “A friend from my church.”

♕

Sydney did her best to stifle her labored breathing when she finally heard Tig coming up the stairs, swallowing the sobs that she had been discreetly choking on for the last thirty minutes. But the clenching behind her chest was almost unbearable as he entered the room. She hated the excitement that she felt as soon as his aura tickled her senses, she hated the comfort that she felt as soon as his scent was close enough to recognize, she hated the cease of her nervous system the second that he touched her in a way that she knew wouldn’t satisfy her. But most of all, she hated that she let it all happen, because it was the only thing that felt normal.

Tig felt the last piece of his heart cracking behind his chest as he stood at the foot of the bed, watching her shoulders shake. It wasn’t the piece that his father had spit on, or the piece that Colleen had trampled, or even the piece that Juliet had taken with her into oncoming traffic that day. It was the scratched, damaged piece of his past that Sydney had taken the time to sand down, and repaint. 

Sydney squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the bed dipping behind her, waiting for the agonizing comfort that would wash over her and, for a split second, make her feel like she wasn’t a complete failure for her inability to handle what she had spent her whole life preparing for.

Tig pulled her back against him, holding her close as he laid his cheek in the wet spot on her pillow that he knew was from the tears that he’d caused. He shook his head against the back of her neck as he let his own tears coat his cheeks, and fall into her mass of blonde curls before pressing his lips to her cheek in hopes of telling her that this wouldn’t be forever.

♕

Chapter Text

Be sure to follow https://aravenamongcrows. (ask & submissions are open), and https://www.instagram.com/m.s.alexis(tracking #aravenamongcrows), for exclusive photos, updates, and more! Playlists are available on both Apple Music, and Spotify!

♕

2 weeks later…

Sydney stumbled drunkenly through the darkness with her arms wrapped around her overly exposed body in the cold, mid-November air, struggling to find her footing on her way up to the front door in the pleasers that had yet to take her down - no matter how hard they had tried.

Tig sighed as he watched her nearly trip over the ridiculously high heels as she scurried away from him - a sight that he had witnessed countless times over the past three months. It was a sight that he had hoped Jax’s Cara Cara partnership proposal would eliminate, but instead, it seemed to have done the opposite. 

Rather than the porn studio being her escape from him, from the club, from their mistakes - it was now her newest way to get back at them, and get some recompense for all that she had been robbed of. She pranced around that goddamn pink warehouse with the body that he could no longer allow himself to worship, on display to anybody who would look - including his brothers - because she knew that he wouldn’t.

“Here.” He reached out once he caught up to her, steadying her wobbly body with a hand around her elbow. 

“I’m fine.” She slurred as she wretched her arm out of his grasp, the force of the recoil sending her tumbling back into the side of the house where the cold metal sent a shiver up her barely-clothed spine. 

Tig looked painfully over her alcohol-fuelled expression as she barely made eye contact with him through her thick, glittery lashes that fluttered as she nodded her heavy head. He looked away, jamming the house key on her keyring into the lock where it clicked open and he stepped inside, feeling his body being hauled out of the way as she pushed past him. 

Even though it had been what Sydney had come to expect, it still stung as she strutted down the hallway in the skimpy lingerie that was made up of an assortment of straps and buckles, without a single indication that he was watching her. 

Tig chewed the inside of his lip as he stared down at his boots in an attempt to avoid the insulting eyeful of the white leather outfit that she was trying to force-feed him, dropping her car keys down into the crystal dish with a clang that temporarily filled the dead air between them as she disappeared into the kitchen. Ever since the Halloween party, he found himself hating when she wore white - the ironically angelic colour that only reminded him of the demon that he had created. He didn’t bother with an explanation as he silently made his way up the stairs, resuming the routine that they had both begrudgingly grown accustomed to.

Sydney frowned as she watched the light at the end of the hallway turn off, the sound of his footsteps on the floor above her reverberating in her ears in a way that seemed to sober her up instantly. She shook her head, stomping across the kitchen towards the whiskey bottle.

♕

Clay awoke from a light slumber that he had succumbed to in the time that he had been waiting for Gemma, lifting his head from the pillow where he found that the lamp on her side of the bed was still on, and the spot that she used to sleep in, was empty. He sighed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he tried to focus them on the alarm clock on his nightstand, squinting until he could finally see that the blurry red numbers read 1:37 A.M.. 

Gemma felt the tense in her muscles from where she sat cross-legged on the couch as she heard the bedroom door opening at the end of the hall, debating which excuse she would have to use to buy her yet another night away from him. She knew that pretending to be asleep tonight was out of the question as she held a burning cigarette between her fingers, so instead she dropped her eyes to her lap where she fiddled with the belt of her robe, hoping that her silence would say enough.

Clay sighed as he stood across the room from where she ignored him - something that she had taken to, lately. “You comin’ to bed?” He tried to keep the irritation out of his tone.

“Can’t get comfortable.” She blew a mouthful of smoke out of the side of her healed lips, feeling the penetration of his unfaltering gaze as he silently demanded more of an explanation. “Don’t wanna keep you up…” She looked up briefly.

“I’d rather you toss next to me, than on the couch…” He raised a brow softly, getting more ignorance . “This is starting to become a habit…” He sighed as he made his way over to the loveseat, having learned his lesson about her personal space as of late. “It’s been like, weeks since-”

“I still got a lot of pain.” She snapped, finally meeting his eyes for more than half of a second.

Clay blinked under her glare. “Well then maybe you should go see the doc.” He spit out. 

“I don’t need meds.” She scoffed. “I just need some time.”

“How much time?” He raised a brow.

Gemma felt her no longer sore face beginning to quiver as he continued to pick apart her lies. And it was nobody’s fault, but her own. “It’s late.” She blinked as she stamped out her cigarette.

“That’s why I’m tryin’ to get you to come to bed.” He nodded.

“I’m sleeping out here.” She shook her head as she reached over to turn the lamp off.

“I’m trying to talk to you here.” He scowled, his voice raising as she continued to shut him down. 

“Since when do you want to talk?” She scoffed, fighting off the guilt as she scolded him for doing the one thing that she so desperately wished she could. 

♕

Sydney stumbled around the kitchen, pinballing from counter edge to counter edge where she revelled in the deliciously physical pain - a nice break from the mental torture that had become her life. She finally reached the stove, steadying herself in the sparkly shoes that crashed loudly against the hardwood floor with each step that she took, something that her subconscious seemed to be all too aware of as she refused to take them off.

She tried to focus her spinning eyes on the dials in front of her, blindly reaching for the closest one where she cranked it up all of the way, moving backwards unsteadily as she began pulling out drawers in search of a pot. 

Tig yanked the pillow down over his head as the clanging of pots and pans plucked him from the already shaky sleep that he’d finally managed to fall into among her persistent ruckus .

“What the?” Sydney scowled as she rifled through multiple bottles, her clumsy movements sending half of them tumbling to her feet. She knew that she had multiple boxes of pasta in here, where the hell had they all gone? “Tig!” She called as she continued to search shelf after shelf to no avail, bracing herself against the open door now that her focus was on something other than staying on her feet. “Tig!” She whined when she got no answer the first time, stumbling back where she managed to catch herself on the edge of the island. “Ugh!” She groaned as she leant down and pried the eight-inch heels off of her feet and threw them across the room, hoping that the extra noise would get his attention as they bounced off of the glossy dining room table, ricocheted off of the wall, and finally hit the floor. But when her cries continued to go unanswered in what her intoxicated state deemed to be a timely manner - which was only a matter of seconds - she snapped. “Alexander!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, which she could tell were starting to be affected by her increase in cigarette consumption as they began to burn behind her chest when she finally heard him getting out of bed.

“What?” He whined as he hobbled down the stairs, pulling his jeans on over his boxers.

Sydney had barely been able to feel her body just seconds before he’d come down the stairs, but now as he stood before her with his pants low on his hips, she realized that half a bottle of whiskey still hadn’t been enough. “Did you eat all the pasta?” She snapped out of it, bitterly blinking away the only image that didn’t seem to blur before her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Tig could hardly understand her through her unintelligible slurring as he tried to gain his own bearings - let alone hers. “What the fuck are you talking about?” He sighed as he rubbed his forehead sleepily.

“Why the fuck is all my pasta gone?” She yelled as clearly as she could, waving her hand impatiently.

“Maybe because you’re looking in the fucking fridge!” He shouted back incredulously as the sound of her screeching grated on one too many of his past nerves, shaking his head as he stalked over to where she was standing in front of the open refrigerator with various condiment bottles scattered at her feet. “And you don’t even have the pot on the right burner.” He sighed as he pushed the heavy metal doors closed and turned the stove off altogether before she could burn the damn house down. “Go to bed.” He shook his head, pointing up the stairs as he blocked off the hazardous appliances from where she had shrunken down considerably. 

“I’m hungry.” She whined, stomping her foot.

“Well you should’ve fuckin’ thought about that on the way home instead of deciding on a liquid diet. Go.” He nodded with his own level of impatience as the familiar fight began - one that he hoped wouldn’t land him sleepless, again.

“Why don’t you fucking care about me anymore?” The only haze that Sydney could feel now was in her mouth as she began slurring the desperate pleas that only dared to leap from the tip of her tongue when she drank.

“You’re drunk.” Tig shook his head.

“I know what I’m saying!”

“You don’t!” He snapped back. “Just like you haven’t every night since I’ve had to bring you home like this!” He could only take so much of a mental beating, and he did enough of that himself, he didn’t need additional punches from the coping mechanisms of a man that she had insisted on throwing in his face, each and every night. He couldn’t handle it; the push and pull, the softness that she cradled him while she was sober and scared, and the poison that she infected him with when she would come home from Cara Cara, drunk and angry about what her life had become because of him. 

“Just because you don’t wanna hear it, don’t mean I don’t know what I’m saying!” For some reason, even among the seas of alcohol that she’d tried to drown it with, her brain was crystal clear when it came to him.

Okay, maybe she did know. “Baby…” He shook his head as he rubbed at his eyes as they filled with guilt. It wasn’t her fault, none of it was. “It’s late, I’m tired. I just want to get some sleep, okay? That’s all it is.” He nodded sincerely.

Sydney felt the steady buzz of rage rippling under her skin as his softened tone fried the ends of her already shot nerves. “What about when I’m trying to sleep? Huh?” She shouted, ramming her palms against his chest. “What about when I wake up to your nightmares, and I fucking stay up with you - give you what you need, no questions asked, huh?” She pushed harder as he stood before her, unmoving.

Tig hung his head as he took her beating - the beating that he knew was only chipping away at his sanity, but that he couldn’t deny he deserved. He supposed that was the masochist in him, the masochist that lived underneath the sadist’s mask that her purity had stripped him of; the part of him that so cruelly enjoyed the temporary relief that followed the agonizing pain of a well-deserved punishment - the closest that any part of him would ever get to repenting for a lifetime of sins. 

Sydney panted as he said nothing, as he did nothing. “Fine.” She shook her head as she took off down the hallway where she swiped her keys from the table where he had left them, and yanked the front door open.

Tig’s eyes widened once he realized what it was that she was doing, her tantrum changing course from the angry stomp up the stairs, accompanied by a slam of the door that signified that he would be sleeping on the couch, that he had expected - bolting out the door after her, shirtless, and barefoot.

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah.” He huffed as he caught up to her halfway to the garage, thanks to the rough surface on the bare soles of her delicate feet. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He yanked her back by her wrist where her keys were dangling from her fingers.

“Get the fuck off of me!” She yelled, turning to push him off. 

“Okay.” Tig immediately backed away with his hands up as she began to cause a scene - something that could very well be just as bad as her driving drunk, as far as staying off of ATF’s radar went. “But you’re not going anywhere like this.” He shook his head.

“Says fucking who? You ?” She laughed in his face before turning back on her heels, feeling his arms wrap around her waist this time. 

“I’m not fucking around.” He growled as he held her back.

“Leave me the fuck alone!” She yelled as she slammed the ball of her heel into his shin, wriggling out of his grip where she turned to face him with the keys still in her hand. “I’m a grown fucking woman! I don’t need anybody telling me that I can’t go where I fucking want!”

Tig winced as she screamed at him in the middle of the yard for the entire neighborhood to see - again. “I’m not trying to fight with you…” He sighed as he continued to try and diffuse the situation - an action that his entire life revolved around not doing, before he’d met her.

“Well then fucking don’t!”

“But I’m not letting you get behind the wheel like this.” He shook his head firmly.

“Oh, now you fucking care!” She scoffed. “Didn’t seem to give a fuck when I left the clubhouse like this on Halloween!” She turned away once again, yelling incoherently as he yanked her back with a force that finally made her release her grip on the keys.

♕

Hale sat at his desk at the station house, his eyes hollowing as he stared into the swirling cup of black coffee in his hand that he had hoped would help get him through the graveyard shift. At first, the escape from ATF in the late hours of the evening, into the early hours of the morning had helped with the weight of the role that he had played in their orchestration of Donna’s death, but as time went on, the hours of activityless, distractionless work had begun to eat away at the one thing that had always made all of the bullshit, worth it; his purpose.

“That’s a domestic!” He was snapped out of his groggy haze by the sound of his dispatcher’s voice calling after Smith and Benson as they pulled their jackets on over their uniforms. 

“Maple Street again?” Benson raised a brow as he leaned backwards, craning his thick neck back into the small room where all of the calls to the station came in. 

Hale’s ears perked up. Maple Street… He felt his heart beginning to race.

“Yes, sir.” Eglee nodded. “Neighbor called it in - third time this month.” 

“Oh, don’t even bother.” Smith scoffed, beginning to tug his jacket off.

Hale blinked as he tried to sort out what portion of his concern was personal, and what portion was professional, but it was a line that he didn’t have time to walk if Sydney was in trouble. 

“What the hell is wrong with you guys?” He sneered at his colleagues. “This is our job .”

The two older men exchanged glances. They knew very well whose house was on Maple Street, and they knew that Hale knew, too. And the reason that he knew had nothing to do with his job…

“It’s not our job to go out once a week, for nothing.” Smith shook his head.

Hale ground his teeth. “And what if it isn’t nothing?” He sneered as he looked between them as they stood, emotionless. “How do you live with yourselves?” He scoffed, taking off out the door, and to Sydney’s house.

♕

Once again, for some reason, Sydney seemed to sober up the second that she was forced to be around somebody other than Tig as the red and blue flashing lights of the police cars instantly broke up her haze.

“This is becoming a pattern, Mr.Trager.” Benson nodded as he walked up to the volatile couple. 

What remained of Sydney’s hearing faded as Tig tried to explain the situation that the cops had become all too familiar with, when her eyes landed on Hale. Her entire body froze, the chill of the late night air suddenly becoming much more noticeable as the remainder of her adrenaline - and intoxication - depleted in an instant, hugging her arms tighter around her body when all she found herself left to feel was shame .

She hadn’t seen him in months - the months since finding out about her involvement in Donna’s death that had caused him to majorly pull back, and in a way, she supposed that she shouldn’t have - he was a cop, and she was a criminal. But that didn’t stop her from missing him, because it only left her with one less person to talk to.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly as he draped his jacket over her shoulders in the frigid autumn air that he could feel was quickly transitioning into winter, moving to shield her scantily clad body from the wandering eyes of his fellow officers.

But the absence of playful banter was suddenly the least of Sydney’s concerns as he looked at her like that, looked down on her , like that. “It’s not like that.” She rolled her eyes, knowing what he was thinking - what he had wanted to believe since the day he’d found out that they were together. “You can ask your butt buddies over there, yourself.” She scoffed as she looked over the two highly amused men, whom she wished were enough of a reason to stop these outbursts, but that was the masochist in her . 

“Sydney…” Hale sighed. “If he hit you…”

“He didn’t.” She snapped as he continued to insult her with the battered wife act. “I hit him.” She blinked out of his gaze, once again admitting her crimes to the cop that she knew wouldn’t punish her for them.

Hale sighed as he felt the grounds of progress slipping out from underneath him, sending him sliding right back into old habits as he chose to forget what she had just told him - but it was one of the few old habits that didn’t challenge his morals nearly as much as it should have. 

“Is there somewhere that you could go while she sobers up?” He turned to Tig who nodded - grateful for the near miss, and for the opportunity to fix the big mess .

“And puts some clothes on.” Smith added with a snicker. 

Sydney felt it again as the veil of revenge began to lift - the embarrassment of her pathetic actions that they could all see so clearly. She shook her head as the tears began to bite at her eyes, shrugging out of Hale’s jacket and letting it fall to the ground as she ran back into the house, bolting up the stairs where she locked herself in the bathroom. She let herself break down, the tears instantly coating her cheeks in a mess of mascara, eyeliner, and heartbreak that sent sobs rippling through her heaving chest that eventually gave way to the alcohol that sloshed around in her empty stomach.

She did her best not to choke through the vile combination of hyperventilation, and regurgitation - gripping the edges of the toilet bowl so hard that she felt a few of her sparkly white acrylic nails cracking under the pressure.

Once she was sure that she was done throwing up, she fell back into the fetal position, hugging her knees to her chest as she cried, rocking herself back and forth until eventually she fell asleep on the cold tiles where she woke up a few hours later.

She lifted her head as her ears rang, blinking through the dried tears that had crusted her eyes shut. She sucked in a shaky breath as she crawled towards the door, not feeling any better than she had when she’d fallen asleep. She sniffled as she twisted the lock on the doorknob, pulling it open from where she still hadn’t gotten to her feet - and it was a good thing that she hadn’t, because she would’ve tripped over the bag of Taco Bell that was sitting outside the door for her.

She felt a fresh batch of tears spring to her eyes as she crumpled back down, shaking her head as she reached for the bag. No matter how many horrible, nasty, vile things she said to him, he still did what he could to show her that he cared.

And it made her feel like the biggest piece of shit on the planet, because it still wasn’t enough.

♕

Chapter Text

Be sure to follow https://aravenamongcrows. (ask & submissions are open), and https://www.instagram.com/m.s.alexis(tracking #aravenamongcrows), for exclusive photos, updates, and more! Playlists are available on both Apple Music, and Spotify!

♕

Tig sighed as he brought the cigarette to his lips as he rolled up to the red light in Sydney’s car, stopping behind an old truck where he was surprised to find anybody else out this late at night - or rather, this early in the morning. But he felt something tick in his brain as he stared at the hauntingly familiar scene, and that regretful recollection only continued to build the longer that the light refused to change as his neck began to ache, and his vision began to blur. 

“No.” He growled, driving the back of his head against the leather headrest as he cranked the volume on the stereo, doing what he could to drown out what he realized he was being forced to relive, but the twisting of the knob only seemed to amplify the high-pitched ringing between his ears as everything around him melted away, except for the truck. That damned truck.

“No…” He whispered as he watched the rusty door swing open. “Please, no…” But his merciful pleas did nothing in the face of their consequential counterpart as the little brunette stepped out onto the pavement where blood dripped from the wound in the back of her head. 

“It’s all your fault.” She growled as she stalked towards him.

“Donna...” Tig shook his head as he tried the door handle that refused to let him get to her in time; just as the scene had played out, over and over - a chilling metaphor that, for some reason, he couldn’t allow himself to chase away. 

“You’ve ruined us all!” She screamed. 

But this time, Tig didn’t cry, or try to plead his case, because this time, he knew that it was true. He had ruined them. All of them.

“I’m so so-”

He jolted awake at the sound of his alarm - a sound that he had become blissfully ignorant to in the time since he and Sydney had started dating where he would awake to the sweet smell of her perfume, or the gentle lull of her raspy voice so early in the morning, or the heavenly feeling of her lips on his coc-

But those were all sensations of the past - sensations that he had taken too great advantage of when he’d so carelessly had the chance. He sighed as he lifted his head from the armrest of the couch, rubbing his neck that was already sore after only a couple of hours in the uncomfortable position that had still managed to produce a nightmare; although, these days, his nightmares didn’t seem to differ all that much from his dismal reality. 

He dragged his hands down his face, glad that he’d had the foresight to gather what he needed in order to ready himself for the day when he’d brought Sydney her food, leaving her the entire second floor where he hoped she’d at least been able to get some of the sleep that he had missed out on, once again.

He made his way into the much less spacious guest bathroom where he stared into the mirror at the deep exhaustion that had sunk itself into the worn crevasses of his weathered complexion after what he could hardly call the joyride that he’d taken in her car - the only way he could’ve been sure that she wouldn’t drive, even after the whole ordeal. He tore his eyes away from the first of what he knew would be many sore sights today, listening for any indication that Sydney was awake above him, but he heard nothing. 

He spent the next thirty minutes toeing the line between taking enough time to satisfy his sluggish brain, and moving swiftly enough that he wouldn’t catch too many regretful glimpses at himself before he was finally finished, gathering his spent clothing and bringing it to the laundry room where his eyes widened as a minefield of overflowing baskets came into view. But it was a panic that he welcomed this time - the prospect of doing housework incorrectly; not knowing what was clean, what was dirty, what was his, or what was hers. 

“Okay…” He blew out a breath as he tossed his clothes into the basin, rummaging through a few of the baskets until recognized one of the outfits that he’d seen her wearing recently - an all black, combat-style number that she’d so perfectly adorned for an apocalyptic shoot that he wished he would’ve been able to appreciate, because he would have appreciated it, had it been on her sinful reminder of a body, three months earlier.  

The snap of the front-loading machine helped to properly wake him up as he forced his glossy eyes to focus on the array of dials, buttons, and settings that he didn’t understand. He blinked as he looked for the right one to jump out at him, but it didn’t - trying his hardest to think back to what any woman had ever told him about doing laundry, but that was a mistake in itself as the gut-wrenching voices of Colleen, Juliet, and his mother began to flood his already overloaded conscience.

He shook his head as a growl of frustration rumbled in his throat, following his instincts and twisting the dial to cold when he finally heard one of his memories uttering something useful. 

“ It’s fine together .”

Sydney’s gentle voice glided over his conscience, momentarily cutting off the urge to gouge out his eardrums. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to conjure up the memory, painting the second sorrowful sight today as he was brought back to the day that her face had been shattered by that cop. Lemmings , his jaw clenched, but he refocused himself. 

“ It’s fine together .”

What was fine together? He exhaled as he braced himself on the machine, drumming his ringed fingers over the metal surface until the harsh reverberation finally did its job, and it hit him. Her stuff was fine to be washed with his. No fragile , no delicate . He smiled victoriously as he twisted the dial back to hot and pressed the button for a normal cycle before heading into the kitchen to make some coffee, pleased that he was able to do at least some things to help lift the weight that was crushing her.

He sat himself at the bar where he sipped his coffee, ignoring the rumbling in his stomach that he knew he never would have experienced this early in the morning, had it not been for the breakfast that her cooking had conditioned him to eat over the last six months. He ignored the pang, a familiar action as he waited for her for what felt like hours, dreading the impending reality of having to wake her up as the minutes before they had to leave for work ticked by. He felt his grip tightening around the handle of his mug, bringing it to his lips where he drained the remaining caffeine before glancing up at the clock on the microwave where the digital time indicated the final minute of grace that they had left before they would be late, when she suddenly appeared at the end of the hallway, strutting towards him with a perfectly curated image that gave away absolutely nothing about the night before - her speciality.

“Let’s go.” She snipped as she stuffed the bag of food that she hadn’t even been able to stomach, into the trash can underneath the sink before turning right back around and heading to the front door, forgoing the coffee that he’d made as the pounding of her stilettos echoing through the silence mimicked the pounding in her head, and drowned out the sound of the washing machine.

Tig felt his jaw clenching as he got to his feet, looking over her where suddenly, all at once, she had become a spitting image of his ex-wife. Not in a physical way, Colleen was frail, frumpy, and strung out - not healthy, well kept, and put together like Sydney was. But she was also hateful, malicious, and resentful , and that was where the similarities became blinding as he ambled down the hallway where she did little to apologize, or even acknowledge the previous night - just as she had for the last three months.

He blinked as he watched her look down at the keys - those damned keys - that he had placed back into the crystal bowl, just minutes earlier. But something about the mundane scene before him began to change. The symptoms were the same as in his recurring nightmare; the pit in his heart, the ringing of his ears . But the effects were the same as what had driven a wedge between their intimacy; the guilt in his heart, and the deception of his mind. And the cause was a can of worms that he had no desire to even consider opening as her face began to morph into the one face that he had done his damnedest to never have to lay his hateful eyes on, ever again.  

“You can drive.” She mumbled, the words wiping away the fatal illusion as she pulled the door open and made her way down the steps, tackling them much easier this time in the more manageable height of her Loubotins. 

Tig exhaled as he swiped the keys, clutching the bundle of jagged metal tightly in his hand as a reminder that she wasn’t Colleen. Colleen would’ve chained those keys to her fucking neck just to spite him, would’ve drained a forty each time that she drove somewhere, just to worry him sick. Sydney would never do anything that low.

He climbed into the car wordlessly, settling into what seemed to have become his seat these days, while she laid out across the passenger seat with her head against the center console in an apparent attempt to get a few more minutes of rest on the short drive to TM.

Sydney tried to ignore the tingling that she felt beneath her skin as the taunt of the jiggling keys permeated the dead air between them. She ground her teeth as she tried to fight off the rage that was never too far from the surface that her complete lack of willpower had allowed her to slip further under, day after agonizing day. She took a deep - and hopefully cleansing - breath, but the chilled morning air only burned against her dry throat, and tightening lungs. 

Tig looked over as he heard the flick of a lighter, a chuckle flitting in his chest as she began her pre-hangover ritual that, any other time, he would’ve been able to find amusing. 

“Did you wanna stop for breakfast?” He asked as he made the right turn off of her street, his voice coming out in the harsh rasp that he had gotten used to using for so many years, but now sounded foreign in one of the few places where it had never been needed.

“No.” She sucked harshly on the white cylinder between her lips, hoping to sooner bring on the usually calming effects of the nicotine as she jostled around in her seat while he maneuvered the old vehicle around the small town.

“I’d really like it if you would put your seatbelt on…” His voice softened to the tone that he was familiar with using around her, nodding thoughtfully once they were back in a straight line on Main Street. 

“And I’d really like it if you would stop fucking talking.” She massaged her throbbing temple as they turned onto Radford where the clubhouse was now only feet away.

Tig chewed the inside of his lip as he felt his foot getting heavier on the gas as they pulled onto the compound, giving into his impulses as he floored it through the gates before harshly slamming on the brakes, sending her tumbling onto the floorboards.

“Tig!” She screeched as he laughed obnoxiously, clawing through the mass of previously perfect white curls that had fallen around her face. 

“Well, what did I say?” He scolded with a slow blink as he got some recompense of his own.

Sydney said nothing as she huffed, shaking her head frustratedly as she kicked the door open and got to her feet so that she could straighten herself out. “Fucking ridiculous.” She mumbled as she readjusted the black graphic top that had twisted out of place.

“Oh, I’m ridiculous?” He scoffed, catching the roll of her eyes beneath her thick lashes where she refused to meet his gaze. “You’re such a pain in my ass.” He shook his head as he slammed the door and turned towards the clubhouse. 

“And you’re a stick in mine.” She shot back as the clacking of her heels carried her past him and into the office. 

Tig felt the same twitch at the corner of his lips as she jabbed him back in her oh so clever nature - until he remembered that the banter wasn’t playful, and a sorrowful frown took its place as they parted ways.

Sydney exhaled sharply as she dropped her purse down onto her desk, peering out the window where she watched him stuff his hands into his pockets, and make his way across the compound with his head down. She knew that she was acting out of line, but since their sex life had become nonexistent, she had no idea where to put that feisty, combative energy that he usually fucked out of her.

Tig stalked into the clubhouse where he found Bobby in his disheveled Elvis costume after what had clearly been a long night; his hair a mess from the discarded wig as he sat slumped over the bar with a beer in front of him at the early hour.

“Oh, sad Elvis.” The Sergeant pouted at the sight that had momentarily lifted his spirits. 

“Oh, blow me.” Bobby scoffed as he flattened the fresh gauze over his still healing gunshot, sliding Tig a beer. 

Tig blinked as he contemplated what he knew would make the day either a whole lot better, or a whole lot worse - deciding that, after the way that it had started, the odds were not in his favor enough to justify the gamble. “Hey, how’s that doin’?” He was grateful for the distraction of the wound that, among all of the noise in his head lately, he’d completely forgotten about. 

“Ah, I’ll heal.” Bobby swatted the air. “But what about you? Seems like you and the missus got some healin’ of your own to do...” He narrowed his eyes behind his glasses as he watched the decaying man turn down the one thing that he used to treat as his lifeline.

Tig sighed as he pulled himself from Bobby’s pointed gaze - a pointed gaze that suggested that he knew a lot more than he should have. “She, uh…” He looked to the boards beneath his boots, chewing the inside of his lip as he was forced to face the one thing that he couldn’t forget. “She likes to sing.” He nodded thoughtfully as he nudged the acoustic guitar that was leaning against the bar next to Bobby’s stool. “Maybe you could sing with her some time… Might help.” He shrugged. 

“Help with what, exactly?” Bobby raised a brow.

“Help her feel closer.” He nodded truthfully this time. “She’s having a hard time, man. Donna and all…”

“Didn’t seem like the type to get hung up over casualties…” Though he had spent the better part of the time since Donna’s death locked up, Bobby supposed he had noticed the distance that now sat between Sydney and the club - though it was a distance that he could see between half of the table. 

“Yeah…” Tig blinked slowly as he began to choke on all that he couldn't say. “She didn’t.” 

“I, uh…” Bobby nodded. He knew that there was more to the story, but it was a truth that would find its way out - it always did, in this life. “I’ll see what I can do, brother.”

“Thanks, man.” Tig nodded gratefully, looking up as Clay stalked into the room, which he assumed meant that Gemma had finally arrived, and he wasn’t trying to get chewed out for being late - again.

“Looks like your night was as good as mine.” The President scoffed, pulling his sunglasses onto the top of his head as Tig shuffled out to the garage. 

“Goddamn bar mitzvahs are killin’ me.” Bobby groaned, lifting the bottle of Bud Lite to his lips as he offered Tig’s reject, to Clay.

“Why you doin’ ‘em then?” Clay snipped as he swiped the beverage. “Laughlin gigs will come back around.”

“I’m buried.” He shook his head. “Inside for two months… My oldest needs oral surgery, they gotta cut his frenum?” He blinked incredulously as he recited what were clearly Precious’ words. “What the hell is a frenum?”

“Sounds Jewish.” Clay snickered.

“Sounds expensive .”

“Well.” Clay shrugged. “You’re no use to us in the garage with that shoulder, why don’t you take point up at Cara Cara.” He popped the cap off of the bottle. 

The Treasurer raised his brows hopefully. “Porn?” Precious surely wouldn’t like that, but if that was the official order of his President…

“I need a set of eyes up there that I can trust.” He explained pointedly. 

“Thought that was what the Princess was for.” Bobby scoffed.

“It was.” Clay growled bitterly. “But unlike that, I don’t need this turning into a goddamn bukkake fest.” He scoffed.

“Where’s Tig at with that?” He took the opportunity to dig a little deeper in that truth , nodding out the door after the Sergeant.

“I don’t give a shit where he’s at.” Clay snapped, because wherever it was that Tig was at with it - it was his orders that had put him there. “Run the books, keep everybody zipped up. Understand?” He waited for the nod that didn’t come from the weary man. “Take a salary…” He raised his brows.

“Whose end?” Bobby groaned.

“Not ours.” Clay scoffed, tipping back his beer.

“Luann is gonna shit .” Bobby shook his head.

“Yeah, well-” Clay shrugged. “Better things comin’ outta her ass than gettin’ jammed back up it, right?” He raised his bottle with a smirk.

♕

Gemma pulled up to the office in the brand new Escalade that she had gotten to replace her beloved XLR - courtesy of Unser’s falsified police report that he’d submitted to her insurance company, which, really, was the least that she felt he could’ve done. She parked the boxy black SUV along the wall next to Sydney’s car - grateful to see that at least someone had been able to get to work on time, because lately, it hadn’t been her.

She pulled her sunglasses off as she jumped down from the raised driver’s seat with a sigh, the irritation not leaving once her feet were on the pavement as Unser came into view where he stood outside of the garage, talking with Tig.

“God dammit.” She grumbled, pushing her sunglasses back over her rolling eyes as she slipped past the pair that was discussing something about a visit from the police department the previous night - news that, for once, she didn’t care to find out the details of.

“Uh, hey.” Unser blinked as Gemma ignored him where he had been waiting for her to show for nearly half of an hour, nodding to Tig whom he hoped had been assured that there were no pending charges against him or Sydney - no matter how many tax dollars their fighting had wasted lately.

“What is it?” She sighed once again as she slipped her sunglasses off, placing her hand on her hip impatiently as he hovered, just as he had done nearly every day since the incident.

“Uh, nothin’.” He shook his head. “I, uh…” He blinked. “I had to get some air in my tires.” He nodded back to Tig who fired up the valve. “Figured I’d check in.” He offered a friendly smile that he was sure would go unappreciated - again.

Gemma clenched her teeth as she kept the ungrateful expression off of her face, clutching her keys in her trembling hands. “I’m fine.” She choked out before disappearing into the small room that she hoped he would know better than to follow her into.

But the Chief didn’t know better. He never had. “Your face is healin’.” He tried again, bounding over the threshold. “Pretty as ever…”

Gemma raised her brows expectantly. “Why thank you, Chief.” She tossed a glance at Sydney who had her head down as she furiously scribbled away at an inventory sheet without a single regard for their presence.

Unser sighed as he shifted his gaze to the little blonde girl who finally looked up, the only sign of any kind of conflict being her bloodshot eyes. “Hi, sweetheart.” He nodded. “Why don’t you, uh…” He blinked. “Why don’t you go and grab us some coffee? My guys tell me you’ll be needing it.” He narrowed his eyes.

Sydney scoffed as she looked between the pair, pushing herself up from her desk where she stormed out the door, and across the compound without a word. She knew that Unser just wanted to get Gemma alone so that he could try and pry more information out of her about what had really happened - as he had been trying to do for weeks - and she didn’t blame him, but it didn’t change the frustration that pulsed in her chest as he swung at the low hanging fruit in order to get it.

“What’s that about?” She raised a brow as she watched Sydney’s hips swing in her tight black jeans, suddenly becoming much more curious about that visit from the police…

“Nothin’ new.” The Chief nodded sadly.

Gemma bit her lip as she recognized the game he was proposing - that she wasn’t going to get any information from him, if he wasn’t going to get any from her. “Somethin’ else?” She sighed, she would find out about Sydney and Tig some other way. Right now, she wanted to get out of being alone with him - something that she had come to hate being with her oldest friend.

“I, uh.” He began wearily. “I’ve been goin’ to these meetings… St. Lukes in Lodi - cancer survivors.”

Gemma nodded as she sifted through the pile of papers that Sydney had organized for her. “Support group?” She raised a brow.

Unser nodded. “I gotta say… It’s makin’ a difference.” He smiled. 

Gemma raised her brows as he stood with that phony fucking smile painted on his decaying lips. “You goin’ somewhere with this?” She sighed.

Unser looked over his shoulder, backing away slowly as he pushed the door shut, which only sent yet another sigh rolling up Gemma’s throat that was suddenly desperate for a cigarette. “I saw on the board… The church’s got a group for victims of sexual assault crimes-” Her scoff cut him off. “Hey!” He stopped her. “It’s out of Charming… Anonymous .”

“How long have you known me?” She shook her head as she threw the papers back down onto her desk. “You really think that I’m the type of gal who joins some holy, ‘poor me’ circle jerk?”

Unser blinked, exhaling a sigh of his own through his nostrils. “Just a thought.” He knew that she hadn’t meant to offend him in the process of shutting him down, but he supposed that was what she had always been the best at - double entendre . “You take care.” He nodded, leaving her standing in the middle of the room with her lip between her teeth, and a guilt that disappeared the second that her eyes landed on Clay as he passed the Chief without a word. 

Tig poked his head into the office, being sure that she and Unser had finished whatever one of their little secret conversations that they had made a habit of, in the past weeks. He blinked sadly as he looked over Gemma whom he barely recognized in the baby blue flannel and light-washed jeans that she wore - nothing like the sleek black leather that he was used to seeing her in. But he shook that thought away as he entered the room before Sydney would return from where he’d watched her storm into the clubhouse. 

“I’m gonna be-”

“Oh, shit!” Gemma screamed, recoiling from his gentle touch on her arm. 

“Sorry…” He held his hands up, blinking away the ghosts that flashed before his eyes in place of her terror. “You okay?” He choked out.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She rolled her eyes, stalking back over to her desk where she attempted to catch her breath. “Here’s the repo list. Why don’t you get Half-Sack and Ope started on it once he’s finished with-” She glanced out the window where Opie was chatting up - or being chatted up by - a young blonde. “ That .” 

“Yeah, sure.” Tig nodded as he recognized Lyla; one of Sydney’s many new friends - and horrible influences - pulling his bitter gaze away from the sight that, once again, he refused to bear the weight of, because he knew it would break him. 

“Are you okay?” Gemma narrowed her eyes.

“What?” Tig blinked up from the sheet of paper that his blurry eyes had fallen to. “Oh, yeah…” He immediately shrunk back down under knowing her gaze. “I’m fine, Gem.” He nodded.

“Bags under your eyes and visits from the PD don’t say ‘fine’ to me.” She scoffed as she lifted his chin before he harshly pulled away. “I guess the withdrawals will do that, though…” Tig scowled. “No pussy, no booze…” She explained, her expectant eyes looking for an explanation of their own, but all she got was more sorrow . “You should be proud of yourself.” She nodded, wishing that she could be - because it was something that she never would have expected from the fiend of a man.

“Yeah.” Tig scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think shit was easier when I was drowning my regrets in hookers and Jack.” He chuckled humorlessly.

Gemma smiled sadly, reaching up to his face more gently this time as she brushed his cheek with her thumb. “You’re doing the right thing, baby.” She nodded. ”Maybe for the wrong reasons…” She narrowed her eyes. “But it’s still the right thing. You’ll see it soon, and so will she…”

“I sure hope so…” Tig nodded, his somber gaze trailing longingly to the clubhouse where Sydney emerged with two coffee cups in hand.

♕

Hale yawned as he sat back against the chair in Unser’s office, chasing the end of his night shift with an early morning visit from the new outlaws in town that were proving to be almost as persistent as the ones who had kept him up all night.

“Clay Morrow and your boss, with Laroy Wayne.” Zobelle nodded as he handed the younger man the stack of photos that Weston had finally gotten the chance to develop, watching as he thumbed nonchalantly through the images of all three parties until something finally seemed to pique his interest. “He runs the One-Niners - controls the largest heroin trade in three counties.” He explained as the small town cop’s blue eyes glazed over.

Hale blinked as he tore his eyes away from the photo of Sydney standing with the group of men. “That’s nothing that I don’t already know.” He shook his head as he tossed them down onto the desk that separated him from their desperation.

“Well, it’s something to act on, Deputy.” Zobelle raised a brow. “Chief of police associating with drug kingpins?”

“Unser’s done in six weeks.” Hale shrugged.

“And you’ll be no better off than you are now. SAMCRO will continue to vex.” Weston added.

“Well, that’s my problem.” He smiled sarcastically. 

“It’s a difficult one.” Zobelle shrugged sympathetically. “Charming treats the Sons like heroes.”

Hale kept his hardened expression in place. “Some do.” He nodded curtly.

“You know…” The older man stared through him for a few seconds, searching for a weak spot to pounce on - just as he’d done with SAMCRO. “I can help you…” He sat himself down in one of the two chairs on his side of the desk, not bothering to offer one to Weston.

“And how are you gonna do that?” Hale scoffed. 

“Clay vows to keep Charming safe and drug free .” He mused. “That’s why folks embrace the MC. So what happens to public opinion if he can’t do that?”

“If drugs land in Charming, that’s on me.” He shook his head.

“It’s on Unser.” Weston narrowed his eyes with a victorious smile. “And SAMCRO is knocked off of their iconic pedestal. 

“Then, when you take over, the drugs… Go away .” Zobelle shrugged.

“Are you talking about deliberately bringing drugs into my town?” Hale sneered.

“I’m talking about creating a temporary problem that allows you to flush out the permanent one.” Zobelle nodded curtly.

Baiting a group into falsely accusing one of their own . Because that had worked so well for him the last time…

“Grab Cane and Lemmings and head on over there, okay?” Unser called over his shoulder as he barged into the room - the room that was supposed to be his office. “Oh, uh, sorry.” He scowled. “I didn’t know you were still here.” 

“Just heading out.” Hale got to his feet with a pointed nod. “But I can stay if you need bodies. Lemmings is out again.” He was almost glad for the opportunity to reestablish his credibility after the events of the last twelve hours, even if he was the only one questioning it.

“Again? Jesus Christ.” Unser shook his head. “What is he? Sick? I haven’t seen him down at St.Thomas.” He chuckled.

Zobelle blinked nervously as he stood, it was time to leave . “Deputy Chief, thank you for your time.” He nodded as he gathered the photos and stuffed them back into the manilla envelope that he passed to Weston, hopeful that he could trust the man to keep what he was learning was his big mouth shut as they attempted to make their escape. 

“Ain’t anybody gonna introduce?” Unser held out his hands expectantly. 

“Ethan Zobelle.” The suited man nodded, forgoing an introduction for his partner. “Impeccable Smokes.” He stuck his hand out.

“Cigar King.” Unser finally put the face to the name as he shook the foreigner’s hand.

“That’s right.” He nodded. That was what he was known for… “Gentleman.”

♕

“Will it take long?” Lyla pouted as she stood next to her completely shredded tire, and horribly bent rim.

“We don’t stock hybrids - it’ll take a few hours.” Opie nodded. 

“Shit.” She cursed, scuffing the sole of her shoe against the pavement. She didn’t want to have to call Justin for help - not again. 

“You’re one of Luann’s girls.” Opie finally realized, not able to tell in the multiple minutes of what he almost thought was flirting with the quick-witted woman - until she stomped her foot like the diva that he now recognized she was.

“Lyla.” She smiled when the brick wall of a man - both physically and emotionally - finally recognized her.

“Opie.” He nodded.

“I know.” She bit her lip, snapping out of it once she realized that now wasn’t the time. “Could you, um, get me the number for a cab?” She peered up at him through her lashes. It may not have been the time, but it never hurt to plant the seeds, right?

“You going to the studio?” He hadn’t dared indulge in any of that , but he knew that his brothers had. Somebody around here would surely be making their way to Cara Cara within the hour. 

Lyla took a deep breath, swallowing the nod that she was about to give. “Well, I have to get her to school, first.” She sighed as she nodded to Piper who was leaning her head against the window, rolling her eyes while she waited for her mother. 

Opie blinked when he saw the miserable little girl in the backseat, pulling his eyes away from the reminder that he had his own miserable little girl, back at home - a place that he still couldn’t bear to be.

“Oh my God!” A screech interrupted them as Sydney came bounding across the compound with multiple coffee cups in hand. “Why didn’t you call me?” She asked incredulously as she placed the paper cups down on the roof of Lyla’s Toyota, winking at Piper before she turned back to her friend. 

“I’ve troubled you enough.” Lyla smiled modestly as she took Sydney’s hands in hers, squeezing them gratefully. “And I figured you’d be pretty hungover after last night.” She chortled knowingly.

“I’m immune at this point.” Sydney scoffed. “Plus, I think that after months of tanning my asshole, I kind of owe ya one...” She pursed her lips.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave.” Opie nodded curtly.

“I think Gem’s waiting on you for repos.” Sydney nodded towards the office. 

“I, uh.” Opie looked back at Lyla where something pushed him to make the final decision that, for far too many reasons, had been so hard for him to make in the first place. “I was gonna take her kid to school - run her to the studio after.”

“Oh.” Sydney blinked in exaggerated surprise. “Were you planning on dropping off your own kids while you were at it?” 

Opie chewed the inside of his lip as she taunted him with one of his many reasons , rubbing his thumb over where his beard and moustache connected. “I’ll get Dog to do it.” He grumbled before stalking back into the garage. 

Sydney scoffed as she crossed her arms over her chest, but her smugness quickly faded once she realized that it may have been premature as she caught the look in Lyla’s innocent blue eyes that she had missed before…

Lyla bit her lip under Sydney’s questioning gaze, shaking her head as she looked down to the pavement with a giddy smile on her face. 

“You picked a troubled one…” Sydney mused.

“Eh, I’m used to it.” Lyla shrugged as she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her low-rise jeans.

“I feel you there.” Sydney laughed humourlessly. “Seriously though, you shouldn’t have driven on that rims…”

“Yeah, that’s what he was saying.” Lyla sighed. “I just couldn’t be at home any longer… Needed to get somewhere… Safe .” 

“Was this Georgie?” Sydney’s eyes widened. She wasn’t surprised that Jax’s efforts hadn’t worked, she’d known that much from the beginning - and the rumours circulating the studio - but what she was surprised about, was the fact that this was the first that she was hearing about it effecting her friend, especially since they had spent the night taking body shots off of each other.

“Let’s just say that my car probably isn’t the only one that you’ll be repairing…” She sighed. “Ima’s calling Jax.” 

“The golden excuse.” Sydney scoffed, the two girls exchanging a knowing smile. “Well, I guess I’ll send him back over then…” She mused, getting right back to her brooding once they were no longer face to face. 

She had no idea if Opie thought - or could think - anything more of Lyla than he did of any other sweet butt, croweater, or pornstar, but she liked Lyla, and the thought of helping Opie out in the romance department, helped her feel a lot less guilty about needing to.

♕

Chapter Text

Everything you need to know, both now and in the future regarding this story, the books in this series, and me as an author, is right here:

msalexis.substack.com

Thank you all for being along for the ride. I promise there is still a long way to go. And we aren't stopping to get off halfway! ;)

All my love, and much more to come

- Sierra

Chapter Text

I know I keep preaching about taking this book further and that being the reason behind my lack of updates, but this is why!! ARAC #1 is officially listed on Goodreads! If you have a Goodreads account (or wish to make one) and have read ARAC #1, it would mean the world to me if you would leave it a review (it might make updates come faster... Just saying).

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/220365795-a-raven-among-crows