When you came back to Charming, you expected a lot of different things, but one thing you most certainly hadn’t been expecting was being in the funeral procession for Donna Winston, a woman you’d known for fifteen years, a member of your family. Opie had asked you if you would ride next to him and of course you had agreed; there was a banner reading ‘FUNERAL’ taped to the front of your Harley and every now and again you’d steal a worried glance at your brother. He kept his eyes firmly on the road ahead. Jax was nowhere to be seen and you were pissed that he hadn’t shown up to support Opie, but that couldn’t be your main concern right now. Riding through Charming Cemetery in front of Donna’s hearse was a surreal experience, and not in a good way. You felt this inarticulable, dull ache in your chest that had started the second you found out about her brutal murder and had worsened with every passing day. You had loved her like a sister and in some ways you’d ended up closer to her than Tara, but losing her was more than that; it was proof that all was not well here at home and that everything was more uncertain than it had ever been. Donna’s death was cataclysmic and you hadn’t bargained for such difficulties. You were sorting through so much shit that you genuinely didn’t know if you had any space left in your brain to take on more.
The service was beautiful and the very least that Donna deserved. Jax showed up halfway through and made an example of himself, but mostly everyone ignored him. He had his own shit going on in his head that he needed to deal with, and you would help him the best you could, but not today. Today was about being there for Opie, Piney and the kids. After the burial, you headed back to Opie’s house for the wake which was an extremely pitiful affair. Growing up, Opie had been hard to read, but the older you both got the more difficult it became to understand his emotions. You sat outside in the garden with him watching the kids on the swings, digging through your vocabulary in an attempt to find words that would console him without pissing him off.
So far, you hadn’t been successful.
“I don’t need to talk about it,” He told you. “Okay, Ope. But if you change your mind, you know you can come to me with anything. And if you need help with the kids, just let me know.” “I will.”
You really didn’t know what else to say, so you just got up and hugged him. It took him a while to hug you back and when he did it was half-hearted, but you knew that was the best you were going to get from him at that moment. You went inside and found Jax leaning against the counter with a beer; he looked far too casual for a wake so you smacked him round the back of the head.
“What was that for?” He frowned. “This isn’t the fucking clubhouse, it’s Donna’s wake.” He rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ.” “Don’t ‘Jesus Christ’ me, Jackson Teller. Come outside. I gotta talk to you.”
He followed you out to the front of the house. You perched on your bike and did the same since his was parked right next to yours. You could tell by the expression on his face that he knew where this conversation was headed.
“What’s goin’ on?” You asked. “Since I’ve been back, I’ve watched someone I love get killed and another get thrown in jail. I feel like I’ve walked into a warzone.” “That’s because you have,” He spat. “Things ain’t what they used to be. Not with the club, not with me, not with Ope.” “So I’m realising.” “The club is involved in a lot of shit and Clay can’t see that we need to get out before it’s too late to come back from it. We need change, but he won’t accept that.” You understood that your uncle was stuck in his ways, a stickler for tradition. He liked to do things the way they’d always been done and anyone that challenged him never got their way; why would Jax be any different? “You know what he’s like. He likes things done his way.” “Yeah, but his way is gonna get SAMCRO wiped out. We’ve already got ATF breathin’ down our necks.” “No shit?” “I wish that was the worst of it,” Jax swigged his beer. He was more stressed than you’d ever seen him. “I found this book that my old man wrote,” He told you. “It’s about what he really wanted for the club. His vision.” “And what was his vision?” Jax smiled sadly. “Not this.” “Can I read it?” “Sure. Just don’t tell Clay. And don’t tell Gemma, either.” You nodded. “Alright.”
For a while, you sat in comfortable silence. The entire club and anybody affiliated had come to Donna’s wake and the street was lined with an assortment of Harley Davidsons. You looked at each one, trying to figure out who each one belonged to. Since the Prospect’s bike was white, it was pretty easy to pick out and you could tell that the Dyna next to it was Juice’s because you’d been working on it with him for a couple of weeks, but since Donna’s death you hadn’t really had much time to talk to him. In actual fact, you’d steered clear of TM because the energy there was enough to give you a migraine. You and Gemma had been focusing on prepping your new house for the move, buying furniture (which Half-Sack had the joys of building) and choosing wallpaper samples.
You took out your pack of cigarettes and lit one, desperate for something to do with your hands. Funerals made you antsy because you always felt like there was more you could be doing, even when there wasn’t. When you glanced at Jax, he was already watching you, worry etched into his features.
“Why’d you really come home, Y/N?” He asked. You almost dropped your cigarette. “I told you, I-” “I know that’s all bullshit. It’s not because you missed us, it’s not because you got bored of Colorado. Something happened to you, didn’t it?” You sighed. “Somethin’s telling me you already know the answer.” “Ope told me some of it.”
You nodded. It didn’t surprise you that Opie had told Jax, and not even because of their brotherly bond with each other; it was more because of their brotherly bond with you, and when one of them felt that you needed protecting, they always enlisted the help of the other.
“So what did he tell you exactly?” “He told me that your ex was a dick and that he used to beat on you.” You flinched. “That all?” “There’s more?” Jax looked like he was about to be sick. “Had an abortion,” You took a long drag of your cigarette. “He got me pregnant and I knew he’d use the kid as a way of keeping me close, so I got rid of it.” Jax stood up and set his bottle of beer down on the seat of his bike. Seemingly, he didn’t know whether to hug you or hit something. “Jesus Christ, Y/N.” “I also didn’t want him doing what he did to me to a child,” You murmured. “It wouldn’t have been fair.” You put your cigarette out and Jax took both of your hands, pulling you up off your bike. He wrapped his arms around you. “I wish you would have come to me.” “I’m here now.” “I assume there’s no point in asking what his name is or where he lives?” You managed a laugh. “Nope. Not a chance. He’s not worth it.” “Fuck, Y/N,” He sighed. “I’m so sorry you went through all of that.” “Don’t be sorry. Wasn’t your fault.” “Is it just me and Ope that know?” “So far, yeah. I’ll tell Clay and Gem eventually, I just need a little more time.” “I can tell them if you want, if that’s any easier.” “Yeah,” You relaxed somewhat. “Yeah, thanks Jax. I don’t really feel like telling this story a third time.” “No worries, babe.” “I love you.” “I love you too.”
-
Since Donna’s funeral, you’d had two main focuses: Opie and the kids and your house. Opie was keeping everyone at an arm’s length which was a force of habit for him, but you were doing your best helping Piney with school runs and whatever else you could. The rest of your time was spent putting the finishing touches on your new house, which you were moving into that day. It truly was a gorgeous house and you couldn’t have asked for anything better. When you pulled up to the property, the first thing you saw was the expansive front lawn, winding stone path with a matching driveway which led to the huge double garage where you already knew you’d spend a lot of your time. The house itself was clad with dark oak panels which matched the front porch and door and all of the windows were massive, allowing for plenty of natural light - the bay window in the front room was one of the main reasons you’d chosen the house.
“I’m in the wrong business,” Chibs elbowed you playfully. “Should be writing books instead of fixing cars.” You smiled at him. “I don’t make that much.” He guffawed. “No need to be modest, love.”
Most of the Sons were helping you move into your home. The midday sun beat down on your back as you hauled box after box into the house - you’d finally arranged for the rest of your belongings to be shipped to California with your overly-helpful assistant who you’d been eager to leave behind. Happy and Juice were upstairs putting your bed together, Chibs and Jax were helping you with boxes, Gemma was unloading the massive grocery shop she’d just done for you in the kitchen and Clay and Tig were putting your bookcases together. You paused in the doorway after dumping a box on the floor to catch your breath and put your hair up. Winters in Colorado might have been unforgiving, but summers in California were downright lethal.
“Slackin’ already?” Chibs teased.
You flipped him off and headed through to the kitchen for a glass of water. Gemma took one sight of your flustered self and started making fresh lemonade.
“You don’t have to do that.” “I was gonna do it anyway, might as well start now,” She smiled. “How’s it goin’?” “Good, almost done with the boxes. Unpacking them is gonna be the fun part.” You rolled your eyes. “We’ll do it tomorrow night if you like? We’ll open a bottle of wine, order some takeout.” You grinned. “That sounds great, thanks Gem.” “You’re coming to Bobby’s party tonight, right?” “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” You assured her. “I’m glad he’s finally getting out.” “Me too. Hey, maybe he’ll get his guitar out and you guys can sing like you used to.” “Maybe.”
You looked back on these particular memories fondly. Growing up, Bobby had taught you how to play the guitar and you’d learned that you could actually sing pretty well if you put your mind to it. You’d spent countless afternoons with him learning different songs and losing track of time. He was just as much your uncle as Clay was and you had a very strong bond with him. To say you were excited for him to be getting out of jail would be an understatement.
“I’m gonna go and see how Juice and Hap are getting on upstairs.” “Okay darl. I’ll call you when the lemonade is ready.”
In your bedroom, Juice and Happy were arguing over which part screwed into which. All of the bedrooms in your new house had a Juliette balcony and the guys had thrown the doors wide open to let in some fresh air. They were both shirtless, a sight that wasn’t exactly unwelcome. When they saw you standing in the doorway, Juice and Happy both looked up.
“Why’d you have to buy the most complicated bed in the world?” Juice whined. “There’s like a thousand parts to this thing.” You shrugged. “It was the biggest one they had.” “Why’d you need a Queen sized bed when it’s just you sleepin’ in it?” Chibs came up behind you with a large box labelled bedroom and nudged you to the side with it. “You can’t say that to a lady, Juicy Boy,” He chastised. “How do ye know she’s gonna be alone in that bed forever?” Juice frowned. “I don’t, but-” “Quit yer moanin’,” He interjected. “And get back to work.”
Chibs smirked at you on his way out and you couldn’t help but smirk back - you had no idea where this flirty banter had come from, but you weren’t exactly opposed to it. Juice seemed to catch on to this and immediately diverted his gaze from you back to the instruction manual for your bed. You knew he had a bit of a thing for you and if you were being completely honest with yourself, seeing him shirtless covered in a sheen of sweat that glistened in the sun had forced you to see him in a new light. Literally. Happy watched you come to this conclusion with an amused look on his face, and you headed back downstairs before he could say anything to you about it.
Seeing everyone bustling around your house, helping you to make it a home, made you happier than you had been since the early days in Colorado, except this was even better because your family was a part of it. There was a box labelled keepsakes in front of you, and it had sparked your curiosity. You took your keys out of your pocket and sliced through the tape. Inside the box were your photo albums, some of your old journals, your film camera and a bunch of used rolls of film. This was a hobby from your teenage years and there had been a period where you weren’t spotted without this camera on you. In the top of the box was a pack of new film which you decided to load into the camera; chances were it wouldn’t even work, but you decided if it meant you’d be able to commemorate this day, it would be worth a try.
You pointed the camera at Clay and Tig who were both bent over one of your obnoxiously large bookcases. Your uncle noticed the camera and grinned at you.
“Haven’t seen that thing in years.” “Neither have I,” You confessed. “I forgot I had it.” He came over to where you were standing. “You got any of your old pictures?” You gestured towards the box of albums. “I still need to get the later ones developed. I think it’d be cool to see what’s on those rolls.”
Clay picked out an album at random and flipped to the first page. There were three photos: one of Gemma and Clay in Christmas hats kissing underneath the mistletoe, one of you and Jax opening gifts that Gemma must have taken and one of Jax by himself, grinning like a fool at the camera. Your chest ached at the thought of simpler times, and judging by the look on Clay’s face, he was thinking the exact same thing. He turned to the next page which was full of photos that had been taken on the same day. There was Piney in one of the paper Christmas crowns you got from crackers, Opie and Jax playing cards at the dinner table, Gemma in the kitchen fussing over the roast and Clay looking very regal with a cigar at the head of the table. There was also a photo of you and your uncle taken by Jax, which Clay slid out of it’s spot.
“Can I have this one?” “Sure,” You said. “I think I’m gonna frame some of these for the house. Seems like such a waste, keeping them all shut in a box.” “You should start taking pictures again,” He suggested. You’d never really thought about it. “I don’t even know why I stopped.”
Although when you thought about it, you did know why you’d stopped. You took photos of the people you loved and cared about - the people you were scared of losing - and when you moved to Colorado you left all of those people behind. For you, there was nobody worth photographing in Denver because they were all in Charming.
And here they all were, right in front of you. You lifted the camera to your face and snapped a candid shot of Chibs and Jax smoking on the porch, laughing at a shared inside joke. It was definitely one for the wall.
“Lemonade!” Gemma called from inside the house.
You found the strap for the camera inside the box so you could put it around your neck. Tig and Clay disappeared to get a drink and you realised just how parched you actually were. You bent over and lifted the box so it was out of the way, and when you looked up, you met Chibs’ eye as he and Jax made their way through to the kitchen. A strange feeling settled over you when he winked at you for the second time that day, but before you could unpack it, Juice came bounding down the staircase, almost knocking you out.
He seemed to have perfect timing.
-
Later that same day, you were getting ready for the party. Everyone had gone home just an hour earlier after a big dinner at your new house cooked by you and Gemma; you had Christened the new dining table and poured over the old photo albums you’d stumbled upon, much to everyone’s amusement. Juice and Happy were especially taken with the photographs as they’d all been struggling to picture you being a part of this unusual life they all led. But, as it turned out, you’d once fitted perfectly - before they’d even known what paths they’d take in life - and even though they didn’t say it out loud they all thought that you still fitted perfectly. Especially now that you had a bike of your own.
You were sitting cross-legged in front of your full-length mirror doing your makeup (your vanity was one of the things that hadn’t gotten done today) and singing along to the music that was playing loudly from your home sound system, another one of the things that had sold you on the property. It was so loud that you almost missed the sound of your doorbell ringing. You paused the song and waited to see if your ears were deceiving you, which apparently they hadn’t been because the doorbell was indeed ringing.
When you went down to open the door, you were more than just a little bit surprised by the person standing on the other side of it.
“Sup Doc,” You forced a smile.
You didn’t like Tara, but if she and Jax were serious about giving things another shot then you would tolerate her. If Jax could forgive her (and you) for splitting, then you supposed you could too. Maybe. She held a bunch of flowers out to you and you took them.
“Little homecoming gift,” She said. “This place is gorgeous.” “Thanks. They say home is where the heart is.” “Your writing has really taken off then?” “Majorly,” You told her about all of your books and some upcoming deals you had with publishing houses. “Hey, do you wanna come in? I’m getting ready for Bobby’s party, but we can talk at the same time.” Tara smiled. “Sure.”
You were surprised by how easily you and Tara fell back into step. You spent the next hour catching each other up on everything you’d missed since you’d both moved away from Charming, and you started to wonder whether it might be easier than you were expecting to forgive her. You arranged for dinner and cocktails the following week to talk some more.
“You’re really not gonna come to the club with me?” Tara laughed nervously. “It’s really not my scene. Plus, me and Jax aren’t in the best place, we need to sit down and talk properly before I start showing up at the club.” You rolled your eyes. “I don’t give a fuck about Jax, I’m inviting you. So will you come? Please? I’d kill to have another girl around.” She smiled genuinely and you could tell that she was relieved that you both seemed to be on the same page again. “Fine, fine. I’ll come.”
-
You and Tara started turning heads the minute you pulled into the lot. It was like being sixteen again. She was on the back of your Harley and you had to admit, you’d done an amazing job with her hair and makeup. You’d also lent her one of your favourite tops, and she looked great in it. Clay and Tig were having a hostile-looking conversation with a pompous looking asshole in a suit, so you and Tara went straight inside to get some beers. Jax spotted you first and started waving you over, but then he saw Tara and stopped. He seemed shocked to see the two of you together and you couldn’t really blame him. Tara went over to speak to him and you took the opportunity to welcome Bobby home.
“Munson!” You yelled. He turned around and when he saw that it was you, he gave you a huge bear hug. “Thanks for coming, Y/N.” “You really think I’d miss this? Hell no. Let me get you a beer.” “Oh, he moved on from beer a little while ago,” Chibs appeared at your side, smirking knowingly. “He might be better suited to a round of shots.” You grinned. “Shots for everyone then,” You turned around and yelled at the Prospect. “Shots for everyone, Sack!”
You ended up spending the majority of the night heavily drinking with the guys. Tara and Jax left pretty early, probably to have that ‘chat’ Tara was talking about earlier. You and Juice were currently seeing who could down the most vodka without throwing up. You won this little competition and Juice had to sprint to the bathroom before he threw up everywhere.
“You’re like a machine,” Half Sack said. “How can you drink that shit without puking. Tastes like gasoline.” You shrugged. Juice had reappeared looking a little bit worse for wear. “Guess I can just handle my booze, unlike some.” Chibs elbowed Juice. “Yer pathetic, ye know that?” Juice rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks Chibs.”
Bobby - along with most of the other guys - had either disappeared with a girl or was occupied with one on a couch or table. There was a couple of crow eaters sitting on bar stools giving you the evils, probably jealous of your closeness to the Sons. You hadn’t had to whore yourself in order to get into their good graces and they seemed to have actual respect for you, something they weren’t familiar with. You ignored their glares and focused your attention on Juice who looked like he needed to puke again.
“You look like death.” You said. Chibs laughed. “She’s got a point. Maybe you should call it a night, aye?” “Yeah,” He agreed. “I’m gonna head to bed.” “See you in the morning, Juicy,” You smiled. “Night, Y/N.”
Juice dragged himself off to the dorms and you took yourself outside for a cigarette. Chibs followed you and when you perched yourself on one of the picnic benches, he sat next to you.
“That poor lad almost drank himself into a coma tryin’ to keep up with you,” He pointed out. “He really likes ya.” This was getting harder and harder to deny. “So?” “So, if you like him too, you should tell him,” Chibs offered you one of his cigarettes and you accepted it. “And if not, you should tell him that too. Wouldn’t want anyone getting their hopes up.” You raised a brow. You liked Chibs, he’d been here before you left but you still didn’t know him that well. “What’s this got to do with you?” “I like Juice, I sponsored him when he was a prospect,” Chibs explained. “He’s got a soft heart.” “Yeah, I’m gathering that.”
You looked at Chibs, really looked at him for the first time. There was something inherently dangerous about the man that went beyond surface level things like his scars and his kutte. You could practically feel the electrical current that thrummed through his veins, the sometimes brutal strength that coursed through his blood. His dark hair was peppered with grey and when he leaned over slightly to light his cigarette, it fell into his eyes. He ran his slender fingers through it and glanced up at you, catching your gaze.
“What?” He asked. “Nothing,” You said. “Just thinking.” “Thinking about what?” “I never thought I’d be back here,” You admitted, the alcohol giving you freedom of speech. “I thought that when I left five years ago, I was turning my back on Charming.” “And now?” “And now I can’t even remember why I wanted to leave in the first place.”
I have a couple SOA fanfics if anybody is interested! I just started the Kozik one so don’t expect a ton of chapters just yet. They’re both love stories with a plus sized girl named Jakki, based on me because I wanted to write out a little something for me. These stories are even opened to people who just like a good love story. I would I appreciate the reads and anyone who reblogs. Thanks, lovelies <3
