Chapter 12

It took her longer than usual to shake the sleep from her eyes. The cool of the morning stinging her skin. She was holding his hand, smelling like cigarettes telling her he'd already been up and smoked one. His form steady against her. He slips his hand out of hers ("Oh, sorry, I—" and then he realizes she thinks he wanted his hand back, and he shushes her) and pulls his sweatshirt over his head, and hands it to her.

"Oh, I couldn't—"

He sighs. "I know there are at least three I didn't get back, after we—just take it."

He used to be resentful of it, almost. He knows which three, too. A ratty SOA sweatshirt that was about ten years old that she adopted all the same, a black zip-up that she'd more often than not be wearing absolutely nothing underneath, and an old grey sweatshirt that had been washed into oblivion and consigned to her apartment, and fell to her mid thighs.

He wonders if she kept them..

All that was spared in his war of attrition against all of his good memories of her was a single white lace camisole, the straps of which he remembered, too vividly for indifference, sliding off her shoulders while they kissed. He turned away harder after that, sparing not a single thought for what he tossed away, lest he linger over another item, press another trace of longing for her into his skin, and fold it carefully away.

'Thanks'

Again she sounds far more fragile than he'd like at the moment, her brief moment of confidence diminished, and a disquiet follows. Why didn't you tell me you don't take your coffee the same way anymore? The question lingers behind his teeth, pressing to get out. The words can hide in the dark. He knows how well things can hide in the dark, under the roar of a storm.

Her curves are lessened, limbs more thin, and he has to remind himself that he can't hold onto the shape of the woman she was six months ago, he can only help who she is now, that expecting her to be the same after all this time would be… she's just not. They can't just lock into place, act like they haven't forgotten how to, in some ways. But his arms had found their way around her, locking her against him, and her head had fallen deeper into his shoulder, and slowly they'd figured out the rest as she drifted again to sleep.

She knew even as she fell asleep that she was running a risk setting no alarm for work, but she had already commenced the dark decent so why stop and make rational decisions now?

She dressed slowly, painfully listening to any sound from the kitchen or living room, his phone call had shattered the quiet dull of their morning in bed. Ruining the torturously addictive limbo they had been laying in, as he walked out with his phone held between his shoulder and head.

She assumed he wouldn't leave her here? Stuck at his house? Does it dead bolt? Is it even alarmed? She heard the slow shuffling of steps, and felt a worrying amount of relief wash over her. He was still here.

She walked out into the living room with more confidence than she felt.

'Morning' He looked exhausted.

'Coffees hot, or do you need to run?'

'No, I have late start today, unless you need to go?'

'Nah, boys are opening today so... no rush..'

They stayed in an awkward silence longer than she wanted. Why was this so hard? Why did he prod and pull at all her edges, slowly pulling her apart but putting her back together at the same time?

'You okay?' He asked.

'Yeah of course'

She replied, trying to smile as she spoke.

He looked like he didn't entirely believe her, but their relationship was based mostly upon a mutual understanding that happy endings just aren't a part of their stories and the fact that they will continue to grin and bear it. So he doesn't push it. And it just lends more weight to idea of misery and company..

There had been so many easy words between them, that he had been guilting of nodding every now and then, tuning out the excess. He hadn't known at the time he should have been hoarding them. Like bits of sea glass in a winter coat. To remind him, that once, it had been summer.

She swallowed the coffee and the heat was like acid going down her throat and she couldn't take the burn.

'I'm going to head home, get ready for work'

'Okay...stay safe sheriff...'

—-

Tig walked out of Venus' house towards his bike. He caught sight of a person on bench at the edge of the small park that Venus had convinced him a few times to walk around with her. His second glance had him realising who it was.

'Hey LT'

'Hey Trager'

She wiped the remaining tears quickly. And gave the man the only smile she could muster.

'Mind if I join you?'

'Sure. Leaving Venus'?'

'Yeah more shit to leave at mine. She has more shit than...anyone I've ever known'

She laughed lightly without surprise.

'I'm glad you guys are so happy. Gives a little hope to everyone else'

He nodded at her words. She'd always had an easy rapport with him, knew exactly who and what he was. And couldn't help respecting the blind loyalty he held.

'You know I haven't really spoken to you since everything happened. Gemma, Jax, Unser...Ortiz... How are you doing?'

He sighed and shook his head.

'You know everyone has kept asking me that'

'Well from what I know of you, I imagine you were a rock for everyone. And I know that means that sometimes you don't get to grieve yourself'

'I'm okay. I mean I'm... I'm really not okay, but, yeah, I'm I'm okay. More importantly, how are you? I don't really know what to say to you about him. Or what's happened, or happening.. How are you doing?'

She had seen the tears begin to well in the man eyes and had to hold off her own again. She felt a wave of hatred for this town pierce her heart again. This town was poison.

'I have no idea. You know even with 6 months apart and barely a beginning together before I left. I still got used to talking to him. I find myself thinking of things I've got to ask him. Tell him. Occasionally I'll still mumble for him to turn the light off when I'm going to sleep. I mean a lot of the time we spent together was pretty much me ranting and raving about one thing or another and him just pretending to listen so it's really not all that different'

He laughed lightly bumping her shoulder as she spoke. And tears that she had tried to bind finally broke free. Because she couldn't keep them in forever despite how she had built her eyes into an Alcatraz where every prisoner had a parole board meeting scheduled for yesterday. And she just wanted to keep them playing dominoes until she comes full circle.

'You know when I knew I was coming back I thought I could make it work. Spend enough time apart you realise how easy it is to lose something you want, so if you get a second chance you should run towards it. So we'd find a way to make it work. And live happily ever after'

She mocked herself with that line, a brevity that allowed her to stop the flow of silent, slow tears.

'It's a good plan. Did you tell him?'

'I don't think I had to. He knew'

'And...now what?'

'I don't know. Something different'

'Maybe something better?'

'I just, I don't think that that's possible. He was the only person that I ever felt entirely myself with really, I mean, it wasn't my first rodeo but he was different..'

'Yeah, I don't know doll. I don't even think he knows. Chibs isn't like me. He's better. Much less selfish. Me, I go after what I want regardless of the consequences. He's not like that. I can't speak for him, but, if I know him as well as I think I do. He thinks he doesn't deserve you. He's terrified of ruining your life. Of you losing your life. Look at the women in our lives. Donna, Tara, Gem. Only Lyla is left, and only because Ope let her go...'

'That was before. Before everything Jax put into motion. What was the point then? Of all the death and the grief and the destruction. All of it to get onto a legitimate path. If it still changes nothing? And I'm sorry, but as honourable as you can make him out to be. If you want something. I mean live and die for it, you go after it no matter what. Isn't that why those women never left? Both them and their men couldn't let go? No matter the damage it did'

'I hear what you're saying sweetheart, plus I'm too old to be governed by fear of things not working out' he finished with a chuckle

'I'm not!' She laid the faux offence between them in an attempt to join him in light hearted banter but his blue eyes met hers and she was once again shocked by how piercing they could be

'You're older than you think. Don't learn that the hard way'

They sat in silence for a few moments. An easy silence as both tried to accept that their lives at times felt lived in a strange restaurant where waiters bring you things you never asked for and don't really want to eat. But will.

'Are you religious Trager?'

It was a bold question, but she knew he wouldn't be offended.

'In my own way'

'Me too. I think the way you know we've broken one of gods rules is when you can't put it back together again. Look at mans capacity to hurt each other. We can try afterwards to fix it, but we can't put everything back together again... I suppose whatever we had doesn't seem to be on the same scale though'

She laughed lightly as she finished.

'As mans capacity to hurt each other? No'

He returned the light laugh.

'Yet here we are'

She's not lying. She's certain the punishment when you displease whatever god there is, is being forced to look at the parts of our lives and hold the broken pieces in our hand, knowing that they'll never fit back together again. Like murder and damage, and a love like fire that you're cold without, but up close does nothing but burn.