#soa oneshot

Part One: https://writer-of-mayhem.tumblr.com/post/675559203955425280/you-dont-know-her-like-i-do-part-one
Part Two: https://writer-of-mayhem.tumblr.com/post/675926650790248448/you-dont-know-her-like-i-do-part-two
Part Three: https://writer-of-mayhem.tumblr.com/post/677404676210163712/you-dont-know-her-like-i-do-part-three

You hadn’t bargained for World War Three that morning, but everyday it got clearer and clearer that things weren’t what they used to be in Charming. You had shown up at Cara Cara in hopes of catching up with Jax since it had been a few days since you’d seen him and instead you were greeted by your uncle lobbing a cinder block through Gemma’s car window. You had put her on the back of your bike and taken her to your house to calm down and get away from the drama. 

Gemma was sipping a cup of coffee and smoking a cigarette on your back porch, looking out at the garden. You’d spent the last week planting summer flowers and adding new garden furniture with the help of Juice and it was finally ready; the perfect place to wile away hot afternoons with a glass of iced tea and a good book. 

“Gem, what’s going on with you and Clay?” You asked tentatively. “I know you guys are having problems, but Jesus Christ.”

This led to Gemma spilling her guts about something she’d only shared with Tara and Unser thus far. You listened intently to her story - even when you didn’t want to - perched anxiously on the edge of your seat, your own cup of coffee long since gone cold. It was hard to hear Gemma sounding so vulnerable since she was always everybody’s rock, the person you went to if you were feeling too weak to go on, but you decided that it was high time that somebody be her rock instead, which is what kept you listening to her awful recollection of events; you swore that if you ever found out who did this to her, you’d personally slit their throats. 

“Why didn’t you come to me sooner?” 
“Don’t think it needs to be broadcasted to the whole family.”
You frowned. “Yeah, but you can’t deal with this by yourself. This is the kinda shit that will eat you up for the rest of your life unless you sort through it and talk about it,” Gemma shrugged. “So I’m guessing Clay doesn’t know?”
“No, and he’s not going to,” She said sternly. “This is what they wanted: to break us. And we Morrows don’t break.”
“But don’t you think it would help?”
“No.”
You sighed. You knew better than to try and convince Gemma that she was wrong. “Fine, but can you at least promise to talk to me if you need to get things off your chest? You can’t deal with this all by yourself.”
Gemma rolled her eyes. She hated coming across as weak. “Fine. But we’re done talking about it for now. It’s your turn to be honest.”
You cocked your head. “Honest about what?”
“Juice.”
Here we go. “What about him?”
“You two have been getting cosy lately.”
“We’ve already had this conversation. In fact, I’ve had this conversation with every single member of the club.”
“Except Juice.”
“There’s nothing to talk about with Juice. We’re just friends.”
Gemma lit another cigarette. “Friends don’t look at each other like that.”
“I don’t look at him like anything,” You insisted. “We are just friends, I swear.”
“Well, you should probably tell Juice that since he doesn’t think so.”

Your mind wandered to all the afternoons you’d spent with him since getting home; fixing up your bikes, building furniture for your house, getting your garden sorted, your shifts at TM and the evenings you two had spent out on the back roads of Charming, just riding around underneath the sunset. Those were your favourite: when it had just been the two of you and the open road, no destination in mind, just riding for the sheer pleasure it gave you both. When you really thought about it, you could understand why people thought it might be more than it actually was on the surface. Actually, when you really thought about it, you wondered if it possibly was more than it seemed on the surface; this was the first time you’d seriously given it some thought, and now you were it looked like something completely different to what you’d told yourself it was. 

“I don’t know what I want, Gem,” You told her honestly. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“What makes you think you’re gonna hurt him?”
“I’m just not sure I’m ready for a relationship.”
“Listen, darl, nobody said you had to marry him, but it won’t hurt to see how things go.”
You considered this for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“What do you think of Chibs?”
“What do I think of him? I’m sensing that it doesn’t matter what I say and that I should be asking you the same question.”
“I had a weird conversation with him after Bobby’s homecoming party,” You explained. “He told me that if I don’t like Juice I should tell him because he wouldn’t want anyone getting their hopes up. It was so strange.”
Gemma raised a brow. “Bit old for you, isn’t he?”
“You can’t say things like that!” You and Gemma both laughed. “I don’t know, there’s just something about him.”
“Sounds like you’re in the middle of a Puerto-Rican Scottish love triangle.”

You couldn’t deny this, but of all the things that you were expecting to happen upon coming home, this certainly wasn’t one of them.

-

Your back was aching from laying underneath a Porsche all morning and you were in desperate need of a break. Since you hadn’t broken ground on your new writing project yet you were picking up more and more shifts at the garage, not for the cash but for something to keep you busy. Juice was underneath the bonnet of the same car, tinkering with the engine in an attempt to figure out what exactly was wrong with it. You wiped your oily hands on your overalls and stretched, completely ignoring the side eye that Juice was giving you. 

Opie caught your attention; he was chatting with one of Luann’s girls in the parking lot, obviously regarding the flat tire on her car. There was something about the way they were looking at each other that made your heart twist in your chest - you’d become somewhat familiar with that look since getting back to Charming. You were pretty sure the girl’s name was Lyla and you had exchanged a few words with her on your visits to the studio to see Jax or Juice; she seemed genuinely kind-hearted, unlike her companion Ima who seemed hellbent on causing problems. Maybe Lyla was just what Opie needed. 

“Hey, isn’t there a wrap party on Friday?” You asked Juice. “At Cara Cara?”
“Yeah,” He replied. “Why?”
“Just wonderin’.” 
“You thinking of going?”
“Are you?”
“Probably,” He shrugged.
“I might come down for a bit,” You glanced at Opie and Lyla conspiratorially. 
“I’ll pick you up at nine,” Juice said boldly. “Saves us both riding there.”
You couldn’t help but feel slightly taken aback; Juice had yet to be so forward. “Alright then. It’s a date.” 

It was sweltering in the garage so you shrugged out of the top half of your overalls and tied them around your waist, leaving you in a black tank top. Your tattoos were on full display now, and Juice found himself staring at the colourful pictures that covered your arms, trying to make them all out. One of your arms was dedicated to music, and the other arm was what you liked to call your ‘random shit arm.’ It was a mismatched patchwork sleeve that still had some gaps that you were planning on filling, you just had to decide what to fill them with. 

“Woah,” Juice remarked. “I didn’t realise they went all the way up.”
You’d been in t-shirts most of the time, so nobody had seen the full extent of the artwork on your arms. “Yeah, I got most of them done in Denver.”
“They’re amazing. What’s that one mean?” 

You found yourself giving Juice a tour of all your tattoos, telling him the stories behind each one. He then did the same with all of his. In a weird way, you learned more about each other from your tattoos than you would have if you’d sat down and told each other your life stories. It only made the pit in your stomach wider and your feelings for the man in front of you intensify. Isn’t this the way it always starts? A simple round of conversation? 

You couldn’t ignore the fear that had consumed you at the thought of being close to a man again, not with the way that had ended last time. Part of you wanted to cut and run now before things got too serious, but love - you were learning - had this funny way of boxing you in and forcing you to acknowledge it. There was no more denying that you had feelings for Juice, feelings - that if left unchecked - could spiral into something serious. As much as you sometimes hated this about yourself, you were the sort of person who couldn’t seem to feel things subtly. When you hated somebody, there was no diluting it, and love was no different. In fact, the way you loved was probably even stronger than the way you hated. 

Which was what was going to make this so fucking difficult. Because not only did you have feelings for Juice, you were also starting to feel things for Chibs. The two couldn’t be more different, but you were attracted to them both like a moth to a flame. You couldn’t help but be curious about them, what it might feel like to kiss Juice, what it might feel like to coax Chibs into opening up about himself. 

Curiosity killed the cat, you told yourself bitterly.

But you know what they say about curiosity killing the cat, right? Satisfaction brought it back. 

-

Friday night came around sooner than you could have ever imagined. True to his word, Juice picked you up from your house at nine o'clock on the dot. It felt strange to be on the back of someone else’s bike, but you couldn’t dispute the way your chest filled with butterflies as you climbed on  and wrapped your arms around Juice. He was lean and sturdy and you couldn’t help but feel protected when you were around him, even though he was literally the softest guy you had ever met. Once you got through the somewhat tough exterior, he really was a giant teddy bear.

When you arrived at Cara Cara, the wrap party was already in full swing. Everyone was in high spirits and it felt good to be out after spending the week with your head stuck under car bonnets. When you and Juice walked in, a few of the guys turned to look at you; Happy smirked at you knowingly and you knew that you’d no doubt be teased later. Jax didn’t look surprised and Opie was too wrapped up in conversation with Lyla to pay you much mind; maybe you wouldn’t need to work at getting them together after all - they seemed to be doing just fine on their own. 

It was Chibs’ reaction that stuck out to you - rather, his non-reaction. One of Luann’s girls was straddling his lap, kissing his neck and running her fingers through his hair. When you and Juice walked in he barely glanced up and you couldn’t deny that you were kind of hurt by this. Maybe his infatuation with you was all in your head, a totally one-sided thing. Maybe you would be better off just focusing solely on Juice. However, you couldn’t deny the rage that filled you up at the sight of the pornstar in Chibs’ lap. 

“What are you drinkin’?” Juice asked you.
You forcefully tore your gaze away from Chibs and flashed Juice your best ‘I’m definitely not about to kill someone’ grin. “I’ll just have a double vodka.”
“With?”
“Vodka.”
Juice released a shaky breath. “No wonder I couldn’t keep up with you.”

Heavy drinking definitely wasn’t the solution to your current calamity but it would sure as hell take the edge off. You and Juice took your drinks over to the rest of the guys and settled in - thankfully on the opposite side of the room to Chibs and his lady of the night. After three drinks and revealing far too much about your time in Colorado to the Sons, Tara took your arm and led you outside, most likely to grill you about Juice. 

“So, fill me in,” She said. “What’s going on?
If you had a dollar for everytime somebody had grilled you about Juice in the last month, you’d be able to buy him the house next door to yours. “Nothin’. Yet.”
“Yet?”
“We’ve just been hanging’ out a lot, getting to know each other a bit better.”

Tara raised a brow. You couldn’t help but feel like you were back in high school, gossiping beneath the bleachers. Back then, she was still all about Jax while you somewhat struggled in the boy department. It wasn’t that you couldn’t score a date - in fact, being one of the most popular girls in school pretty much resulted in you having your pick of the litter - you just weren’t interested. Even then you much preferred spending your afternoons at TM with Jax and Opie and your evenings curled up on the couch between Gemma and Clay devouring books at an alarming speed. Now that the dynamic was changing, it was clear your friendship with Tara would change too; less of the Jax drama and more of the Y/N drama. 

You couldn’t figure out how you were supposed to feel about that.

“I can see that,” She scoffed. “Has anything else happened between you guys?”
“Nope.”
“Maybe tonight’s the night.”
“Maybe…”
“Listen, while I’ve got you, I need to talk to you about Gemma.”
“Uh oh.”
“I think she should talk to Clay about what happened, but she won’t listen to me.”
You shook your head. “Tara, you know just as well as I do that trying to convince Gemma what’s best for her is like trying to convince the sky that it’s green.”
“I know, I just thought she might listen if it came from you.”
“Well, judging by how fast she changed the subject this morning when I talked to her about it, I’m guessing it won’t make a difference who’s telling her.”
Tara sighed. “You’re probably right.”
“But what’s going on with you and Jax? You sort your shit out?”
“You could say that,” She smirked. “I think Ima gets it now, anyway.”
“Do I wanna know?”
“Probably not.”

-

You and Tara spent the majority of the night huddled on one of the loveseats gossiping and catching each other on everything you’d missed since being apart. As insufferable as she became for a hot minute, you had to admit that it felt good to have your best friend back. It was getting late and you were tipsy to put it lightly, but when Juice came over and took your hand, you didn’t have it in you to deny him no matter how much you wanted to go home to bed. He led you outside to the deserted parking lot, not the most romantic place in the world, but before you could make a snarky comment about it, he had you pressed up against the wall. 

Your body came alive when he put his hands on your hips and pushed you backwards and the way you looped your arms around his neck was so natural, it was like second nature. The kiss came far too quickly but also not quick enough. You didn’t think you imagined the low growl he made when you took his bottom lip between your teeth, and once you got started it was hard to stop. He peppered kisses along your jawline and down the side of your neck until he found that sweet spot just above your collarbone that had you coming undone beneath him. He sucked hard - definitely leaving a questionable mark - and you groaned loudly, not caring who heard it. You were sure that if this had been happening at the clubhouse you would end up in Juice’s dorm.

However, you weren’t at the clubhouse and you most definitely weren’t alone, so you really had no right being as shocked as you were when Chibs and Tig wandered out, drinks in hand. 

“Well, well, well,” Chibs said. “What do we ‘ave here?”
Tig looked at you and then Juice, and then back to you. “Clay is gonna make your death real slow,” He assured Juice. “Like, reeaaaalll slow. And painful.”
Juice rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Tig.”
Chibs swigged his whiskey. “I see you made up yer mind then?” He asked you. “Decided to go fer it?”
You swallowed the mysterious lump that had formed in the base of your throat. “Yeah, I did.”
“Well, good fer you lass. Be careful with that one,” He said to Juice. “She’ll keep you on yer toes.”
“How would you know?” You countered. 
“Just a feeling.”

-

End of part 4

TAGLIST:
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@breakmeaswitchson
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: Y/N Morrow is over the moon to be moving back to Charming after spending years away from her family, but they know that something isn’t right. What went so wrong that she had to pack up and move all the way back to California, and what will happen when the past she was running from follows her home? 

You pulled into the lot of Teller-Morrow Automotive, the deafening roar of your Harley Davidson’s engine announcing your arrival to everyone. You hadn’t told anybody that you were coming and you knew it would be a surprise, especially for your Uncle Clay, and to say that you were excited to see their reactions was the understatement of the year. A line of black bikes were lined up outside the shop, glistening in the scorching, mid-afternoon sun, a telltale sign that most of the Sons were either in church or working in the garage. An unfamiliar blonde guy in a Prospect kutte climbed out of the Teller-Morrow pick-up when he saw you pull in, an inquisitive look on his face. You parked your bike at the very end of the row and took off your helmet, shaking out your Y/H/C curls and getting a carton of cigarettes out of the pocket of your worn leather jacket. The Prospect watched this little show with an open-mouth, and you couldn’t help but toy with him a bit by offering him a cigarette. 

“Smoke?”
“Uh, n-no thank you,” He stammered. “I’m all good.” He took out his own pack as if to prove this to you. 
You flashed him your best man eating grin, one that you had been perfecting since your teenage years. “What’s your name, Prospect?”
“Half-sack,” He informed you with an embarrassed, lop-sided grin. 
“That your real name?”
“Er, no.”
“Do I wanna know why they call you that?”
“Probably not.”
“Where are the guys?”
“I got no idea. You know them?”
You smirked. “Guess you could say that. Clay’s my uncle.”
“No shit! I didn’t know he had any family besides Gemma.”
“Most people don’t. So, is he here?”
“He’s probably in the office,” He admired your bike, your pride and joy. “Nice ride.”
“Thanks. 883 Superlow. Did all the mods myself.”
Half-sack raised a brow. “Clay teach you?”
“Jax and Ope, too. And Piney,” You took a long drag of your cigarette. After riding up from Colorado, you were exhausted. It had taken you almost two days and you had only stopped for a short period of time in a dusty old Motel, so it was safe to say that you needed a drink, a few cigarettes and a nap. “As much as I’d love to sit here all day telling you my life story, I should probably let the others know I’m here. It was nice meeting you, Half-sack.”
“Yeah, you too…” He trailed off. “I didn’t get your name.”
“Y/N Morrow.”

You put out your cigarette with the heel of your boot and headed in the direction of the Clubhouse. It was just as you had remembered it and you couldn’t decide whether this was comforting or not. The smell of smoke and whiskey hit you the minute you walked through the doors, and the chapel doors were closed and it seemed that all the guys were in there, so you took it upon yourself to fix yourself a drink or three while you waited. They were in there a while, and Gemma ended up being the first person other than Half-Sack to greet you.

“Y/N!” She yelled, almost pulling you off the barstool you were perched on in an attempt to hug you. “What are you doing here?! Why didn’t you call?!”
You wrapped your arms around her, relaxing instantly. Words couldn’t express how good it felt to be home. “Wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, that’s one word for it darlin’,” She held your shoulders, taking in your appearance. “You ride all the way here from Denver?”
“Yeah, I thought it’d be hell, but the ride did me good.”
“Have you seen Clay yet? He’s gonna lose his shit. What’s it been, five years?”
“About that, yeah.”

You didn’t want to talk about those five years you’d spent in Denver. When you left Charming and your entire family behind, you knew it wouldn’t be easy, but you felt like you’d never leave home if you didn’t bite the bullet and take a job opportunity that had fallen in your lap. Clay and Gemma had pretty much raised you - your parents were deadbeats, and a sore spot for your uncle - and Jax was pretty much your brother, so leaving had been one of the hardest things for you, but you had spent those five years finding yourself, growing and working on your writing. It had been one long breath of fresh air, a taste of life away from the Sons of Anarchy, but you missed your family and were ready to move back home to be closer to them. And that’s exactly what you told Gemma. 

“You got a place to stay, baby?” She asked.
“Not yet, but I’m looking at a little house tomorrow afternoon. Buttersweet Rise.”
Gemma raised a brow. “That’s a nice neighbourhood. Your books are selling well, I take it?”
“Well enough,” You grinned. 
“I’ll go with you, make sure the landlord doesn’t take any liberties. Stay at our place until you get sorted.”
“Thanks, Gem.”

The chapel doors swung open and the guys’ voices spilled out; they were talking and laughing about something, but when they saw you and Gemma sat at the bar, all the voices stopped. Jax was the first one to say anything. 

“You gotta be shittin’ me!” He yelled, basically running at you. You met him halfway and let him pick you up and spin you around, sending you into fits of giggles. 
“Hey, big bro.”
He set you down but didn’t let you of you. You looped your arms around his neck. “What are you doing here? Did you ride all the way from Denver?”
“Yup. I’m coming home.”
“What do you mean? For good?”
“If that’s okay with you.”
Jax grinned and picked you up again. “Of course it’s okay with me.”

When Jax moved aside, Clay was already waiting with open arms. In a weird way, you felt eleven years old again, tucking yourself into your uncle’s arms and feeling the world and it’s pressures melt away. He held you like that for a long time, and kissed the top of your head. 

“It’s good to see you, my love.”
“You too, Clay. I missed you.”
“I wish you would’ve called. Me and Jax would have ridden halfway and met you.”
“It’s okay, the journey did me good.”
Piney hugged you and kissed both of your cheeks, clearly over the moon to see you. “Gonna call Ope,” He told you. “He’ll wanna come down here and see you.”
You looked to your uncle. “When did he get out the clink?”
“Few months ago,” He explained. “Donna wants him earning straight, so he’s not around as much as he used to be.”

Bobby and Tig came and hugged you and introduced you to Juice who hadn’t been there when you’d left. He seemed nice enough, someone you could get along and have a laugh with. Chibs was the last one to greet you. The Scotsman took his time taking in your appearance as though he was making sure you were still whole after all this time. Once he was satisfied, he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and held you close for a few moments before letting you go. Overall, it was a fairly weird exchange, but you didn’t have time to unpack that right now. 

“Jax,” You said, spinning around. “You gotta come see my bike.”
He grinned. “Come on then. We got a lot of catching up to do.”

-

Jax wasn’t kidding when he said that the two of you had a lot of catching up to do. The last time you’d spoken, Wendy had just found out that she was pregnant and Jax was a little messed up about it all. Since then, the crank whore you’d despised from the word ‘go’ had almost killed her baby, had to have a premature c-section and had been shipped off to rehab for what felt like the hundredth time. The baby was due home any day now, and his name was Abel. 

“That’s a beautiful name, Jax,” You said. “I can’t wait to meet him.”
“I’m going to the hospital later on, you should come with me. I’m sure Tara will be surprised to see you.”
“Tara?”
“She had the same idea as you, apparently. She’s moved back into her Pa’s old place.”
“Shit, I didn’t even know,” You leaned against your bike, which Jax was inspecting while he filled you in on everything you had missed, which was clearly a lot. “Haven’t spoken to her in a couple years.”
“Yeah, no shit. You basically fell off the face of the earth.”
You folded your arms. “I needed space.”
“And now?”
“It gets lonely up in the Rockies.” 
Jax laughed. “So you made your fortune and now you’re back in Charming. What’s next?”
You lit a cigarette and offered one to Jax. He took one from the carton and gestured for your lighter. “No idea. Maybe I’ll write a book about Charming.”
“The amount of shit that’s been happening, you won’t be short of ideas,” Jax took a drag of his cigarette and crouched down to take a closer look at your bike. “This must have set you back a pretty penny. When you left, you were on a piece of shit Street Rod.”
“She wasn’t a piece of shit,” You frowned. “Me and Ope fixed her up, she ran just fine.”
“I’m surprised she didn’t give up on you halfway to Denver.”
“It’s still in my garage,” You told him defensively. “When the rest of my shit gets shipped down here, she’s coming with.”
Jax rolled his eyes and smiled. “Always the sentimental one.”

Opie pulled into the lot in his truck, a black and white bandanna keeping the sweat from dripping down his face. He was dressed casually in jeans and a flannel shirt and he was covered in sawdust, presumably from the job that Jax was telling you about (the job that was making him miserable) but you ran at him anyway, squealing in delight when he picked you up. Jax might have been your brother by family connection, but Opie was your brother too. You and him spent the same amount of time together growing up than you did with Jax, maybe even more, and he had taught you pretty much everything you knew about bikes. 

“God, I missed you,” You sighed. “It’s been too long.”
“Yeah,” He scoffed, setting you down. “And whose fault is that?”
“Mine,” You said sheepishly. “But I’m back now. Back for good.”
“Get bored of Colorado?”
“Nah, I just missed my brothers.”
Opie softened and put an arm around your shoulders. “That yours?” He asked, gesturing to your cherry red bike.
“Yup.”
“Talk about an upgrade.”
Jax smirked. “I was just sayin’ the same thing,” He said.

You spent the next hour talking about bikes and everything else you’d missed with Jax and Opie, blissfully unaware of the passing of time. Opie had to get home to see Donna and the kids, so you and Jax headed to St Thomas’ to see the baby. You also suspected that it was to get you out of the way so Gemma could organise a little homecoming for you at the Clubhouse - true SOA style - but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. 

Abel was dozing in his bassinet, and the first thing you noticed when you entered the room was his blue Sons of Anarchy hat. “Start them out young,” You said.

“Exactly.”

Jax picked him up and handed him straight to you. You were taken aback by his tiny, perfect features and they way they resembled Jax’s. You sat down in the rocking chair and adjusted him in your arms so that he was more comfortable, and he stirred slightly, opening his eyes and looking up at you curiously. Your chest ached slightly and you couldn’t explain why since you had never really given kids a second thought before. 

“Y/N?” 
Your head snapped up. Tara Knowles, your best friend throughout high school, was standing in the doorway holding a milk bottle and a clipboard. You had to admit, that uniform looked good on her. “Hey, Tara. Long time no see.”
She looked to Jax and then back to you. “What are you doing here?”
“Thought it was about time I came home. I could ask you the same question, doll.” She handed you the bottle and you smiled down at Abel who took it willingly. “There’s a good boy.”
You didn’t miss the anxious glance she shared with Jax, and you made a mental note to ask him about it later. “I came to sort out my dad’s house, but I think I’ll stay put for a while.”
“Me too.”
“We should go for drinks.”
“I’d like that.”
“You should stop by the Clubhouse later,” He told her. “I think there’s gonna be a welcome home party for Y/N.”
Tara nodded. “Sure, yeah. I’ll stop by after work.”
You flashed her a grin. “I’ll see you then, Doctor.”

She left you and Jax to it, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You hadn’t seen her since she split for Chicago when you were just teenagers, which had been just as hard on you as it had on Jax but for different reasons. Growing up with guys meant that your friendship with Tara was respite, a way to get away from the chaos for a while, and you had felt the sting of her absence every single day up until you split too. You doubted you’d ever forgive her for it, and it was clear that she knew that.

“Go easy on her,” Jax warned. “She’s had a rough few weeks.”
“Yeah? I had a few of those myself when she up and left without a warning.”
“You can talk, Y/N.”
“Hey, that was different.”
“Not that different.” 
“I’m sorry, Jax.”
“I know. We don’t need to talk about it, it’s in the past,” He ran his fingers through his hair that was in desperate need of a cut. “There’s somethin’ I wanna ask you.”
“Uh-oh.”
“It’s not bad, I promise.”
“Go on then.”
He crouched down next to the chair and let Abel wrap his tiny hand around one of his fingers. “I was wonderin’ if you’d be his godmother.” 
You froze. You were at a loss for words. “Really?”
“There’s nobody else I’d trust to take care of him,” He said. “But you gotta promise that you’re sticking around this time.”
You leaned over and kissed Jax’s forehead. “I promise, Jackson. I promise.”

-

By the time you got back to the Clubhouse, the party was already in full swing. You could hear the music from outside and it sounded like Gemma had invited every single person that had ever spoken two words to you. When you and Jax stepped in, the whole room erupted into cheers; there was a huge banner strung above the bar that looked like it had been made by Tig which read ‘Welcome Home Y/N’ in big, bold letters and you’d barely taken three steps when Juice pressed a drink into your hand. Clay put an arm around your waist and led you further into the crowd and you consequently spent the next hour and a half catching up with people you hadn’t seen since you left Charming. 

Luann had cornered you and was telling you all about her business, trying to tempt you into starring in one of her movies. You couldn’t quite believe that she was trying this with you, but she insisted that you had the perfect body and face for it. When Happy came over and offered to get you another drink, you practically fell into his arms in an attempt to get away from her. 

“Thanks for rescuing me, Happ.”
“Looked like you needed it.”
“You have no idea.” He unscrewed a beer for you and then got one for himself. “Still with Tacoma?”
“For now. Thinking of going Nomad.”
“No shit?”
“Ma’s real sick, I need to be closer to her just in case, you know?”
“Sorry, Happ,” You rested your head on his shoulder. You’d always gotten along well with Happy, even though he’d only just patched in when you left. “You know Clay will always have a seat for you at his table.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“And there’ll always be a seat at mine for you too, if you ever wanna talk.”
He smiled. “Thanks, Y/N. It’s good to have you back.”

Happy left you at the bar and you downed your beer; you were in need of some liquid courage tonight. Tara had just walked in and was talking to Jax in the corner, so you didn’t want to bother them. Opie was nowhere to be seen, so you went and sat on one of the leather couches with Bobby, Tig and Chibs. 

Tig pulled you into his lap. “Y/N! Where’ve you been, darlin’?” 
“Got cornered by Luann. She told me I have the perfect face for porn.”
Bobby and Tig burst out laughing. “If ye ask me, that’d be a waste,” Chibs said. 
“Don’t tell Clay she said that,” Bobby chuckled. “He’d have Luann’s head.”
“She’s not wrong, though.”
You smacked Tig around the back of the head. “Fuck you, Tigger.” 
Chibs also smacked Tig, but significantly harder. “Yeah, that’s no way to talk to a lady,” He growled.
You flushed. “Thanks, Chibsy.”

-

Gemma and Clay were sitting at the bar, watching you with Tig, Bobby and Chibs. As happy as she was that you were home, Gemma didn’t believe for a second that you’d come back to Charming because you were homesick. She knew you too well and as soon as she’d seen you sitting at the bar, three whiskeys deep at two in the afternoon, she knew that something wasn’t right. When she’d told Clay, he’d agreed. You’d sounded off on the phone the last few times he’d checked in and he’d known that it would only be a matter of time before you showed up.

“What do you think happened?” Gemma asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m gonna find out.”
“If she’s gonna tell anyone, it’ll be Opie.”
Clay narrowed his eyes when Tig pulled you into his lap. “Yeah.”
“Whatever it is, I’m glad she’s home.”
Clay kissed his wife’s cheek. “Me too, baby. Me too.”

They were right of course, it wasn’t just homesickness that had sent you back to the worn streets of Charming, although that was part of it. Your time in Colorado had, for the most part, been an amazing and transformational experience, but the last couple of years had thrown you some unexpected curveballs which had ultimately sent you packing. In time, you’d come clean about all of this with your family, but tonight you were just more than happy to be home.

-

End of part one