Fallen From Grace

by Nicole J. Coltan.

"It had taken one taste of temptation and she knew she'd follow him into the pits of hell..."

Disclaimer: I in no means own anything related to the Sons of Anarchy. I merely own Dianne O'Neil, Wren O'Neil, José Fernandez and everything else which you don't recognize.

Chapter Nine: Loose Lips Sink Ships

Dianne had awoken that fateful morning with a feeling of absolute dread, nausea and trepidation—something that seemed to happen more often than not.

Knowing that her daughter would not be home in another four hours, Dianne had bided her time with making chocolate chip cookies, a dozen muffins and home made hot chocolate—all the while keeping a look out for her daughter.

It seemed natural for a mother to worry but if said mother had been an assassin in the past—knowing full well of the dangers lurking behind false pretenses—Dianne had every right to feel anxious the closer four o'clock approached.

It had been a battle Dianne knew she wouldn't win and though she had stretched it on as long as she could, the worries mother had realized that keeping her daughter from having fun was something she didn't have the heart to do.

And though Dianne had met Allison's parents prior —having done a background check, yes, a little excessive but necessary— the woman couldn't help but feel troubled. She supposed it had been instincts that had told her not to agree but considering that her daughter had yelled out in excitement the moment she knew that her mother had given up, Dianne simply disregarded her worry.

But that worry had returned when five o'clock dwindled by without any sight of her daughter and Dianne knew something was wrong. She could feel it coiling in her gut and alighting every fiber within her body to flame.

Her feet had carried her forward and with dread taking ahold of her senses, she could only watch as the doors of the SUV slide open and a body be carelessly dumped on the side before speeding away in a fit of screeching tires and smoke.

Dianne could feel her heart pounding against her chest as she took a step towards the unmoving form and for a moment time seemed to stop. Her knees wobbled and gravity took ahold.

The pain in her chest was unlike anything she had ever felt before and for a moment, she couldn't hear anything but her name being uttered.

And it was only at the pained whimpers coming from the small body now cradled in her arms that Dianne allowed herself to scream.

"—you sure you don't mind? I mean I can go and pick them up but," amused would have been a gross understatement at what Dianne was feeling at that moment but not wanting the man to think that she had a problem with it, Dianne couldn't help but shake her head in disbelief.

"I really don't mind," she assured the man with a smile, placing the roller in the bucket of crimson paint before balancing the phone between her cheek and shoulder, nodding her head in agreement as she gazed at the newly coated wall before her, "—I'm sure I'll think of something to keep them occupied with."

Like helping me paint, cause this shit is hard work. I should probably stop by the hardware store and get more supplies, take the kids with me. Hmm, good idea. I think they'll like—. "Baby girl? Did you hear a word I just said?"

Her heart skipped a beat at the loving nickname he had started calling her and smiled, desperately keeping herself from squealing in delight. "Yes, I heard you loud and clear," hearing a multitude of voices in the background, Dianne shook her head once more, "—I appreciate you looking out for them but this isn't the first time you made me pick them up and this won't be the last. I'd do anything for those kids and you know that."

No he didn't but thank you brain for informing him. And without waiting for the man to form any reply, Dianne cleared her throat and ran a hand through her hair while taking a step back from her work. "I'll see you later."

"Dianne—." The line went dead and Dianne huffed a breath before slapping her palm against her forehead, mentally scolding herself for letting it slip through her mouth and sighed. Though she had meant what he said, Dianne knew that the man wouldn't be pleased that she had hung up on him. "You are so gonna get it."

Knowing she still had an hour to kill before having to go pick up the kids, Dianne bided her time with making sure that she had everything she needed before stepping over the various tubs of paint scattered all over the place and heading towards the door.

After rechecking that everything was locked, Dianne meandered towards the Mustang sitting in the abandoned parking lot—something that would no doubt change in the weeks to come and—and grinned in contempt.

This side of her was still mysterious and daunting; a challenge that Dianne had accepted. Wandering in uncharted waters was something that Dianne had found a sense of thrill in, discovering a piece of her that had been locked away.

It was easier to pretend not to care for anything other than yourselves. There had been a time where that had been her sole intention, pretending to care for no one but herself but as time continued to dwindle on without giving off any sign that it would be stopping, Dianne had found herself wondering whether this was life's way of showing her that this was her final chance at Redemption.

Silence had proven to be both her friend and tormentor; allowing her to face the unwarranted emotions brimming within her heart and the thoughts plaguing her mind. These wayward feelings that she held no control over was making the woman feel things she never thought possible—feelings and emotions her daughter had taught her to understand accept.

She had lost who she was and to be honest, Dianne O'Neil was still feeling lost but for some selfish reason, she wanted to believe that someone would find her stranded alongside the road—offer her the things she never knew she needed, wanted, until now.

She had spent days trying to remind herself that she couldn't allow herself to be swept underneath the current, berating herself for allowing things to go as far as it had done but despite her heart being torn in two; Dianne wasn't sure what she needed.

This was something she wanted but knowing that it could never be brought forth an ache in her that reminded her the day she finally realized that her daughter would no longer be her anchor.

It was her daughter's constant reminder that it was all right to feel, that she was still human and not a machine. That mistakes were meant to be made. Wren had been so wise and mature for her age that Dianne couldn't help but be proud of.

She missed her little girl so much and for a while, the gaping hole in her heart had been filled with a hunger for vengeance, (despite the darkness still ever present at the back of her mind) but now things were different.

Just being surrounded by Opie and his kids allowed her to realize that the gaping hole in her heart had grown smaller and with that, the hope she had thought to be devoured by despair had rekindled.

Pulling up in front of the school, Dianne couldn't help but reminiscence about the days she had done exactly the same for her daughter—dropping her off and picking her up. It was another thing that provided a sense of normalcy in her life, one that she refused to let go.

You showed me you weren't

Just another open door

You showed me I could

Give back, but you took it all

During the time that the man had become distant and emotional, having spent most of his time at the clubhouse and taking more hits than he should, Bobby Munson could honestly say that he was surprised at the sudden change in mood Opie Winston had undergone in the past few weeks—and despite the tension still ever present between the Sons, it didn't take a fool to notice that someone was responsible for the happiness bubbling around his head.

And if the Sons noticed the change in the man, which Bobby suspected even a blind man to see, they didn't comment on it—knowing full well that it wouldn't bode well with Opie.

But being a man who valued truth, it didn't take long to put one and two together. This was the work of a woman and one hell of a woman, he might add. It had been a brief glimpse he had gotten but it was all he needed to know—because knowing that Opie had a reason for keeping this from the club, Bobby knew better than to start unwanted trouble.

Most people tended to avoid the man alone, walking around him on eggshells in fear that one wrong word would send him on a rampage—because in truth, despite the happiness radiating from the man, it didn't take a fool to notice that he was a ticking time bomb.

He was still emotionally distant with everyone, including his ever curious father who constantly watched him with concern (not that Piney would admit it). So he knew that calling him out on in front of the club at what he had witnessed earlier through the afternoon would not be a very good idea.

Having struck idle conversation with the SAA, Bobby couldn't help but keep a look out for the subject of his thoughts. Trager made a grimace at noticing that the man wasn't paying as much attention as he should have, talking about woman in general and had his thoughts not been focused on another matter entirely, Bobby would have added his own lecherous comment.

"I mean her tits were—," he made a gesture at his own chest, making a motion of what he meant to get the picture through and grinned, "—this size. Flaunting that piece of—." The door swung open and Bobby knew his chance had arrived.

"Clay wants to see you," the big man shrugged at the questioning gaze from Trager before jabbing his thumb towards the door, "—something about missing papers and shit. Mumbling that Gemma," not having met Opie's eyes since he entered, the two men watched as he shot of like lighting, the blue eyed SAA flying from the chair and stalking out the clubhouse, the loud bang echoing through the silent room.

An incredulous eyebrow was raised as Opie turned his attention back towards Bobby, "What's his problem?"

The man merely shrugged before pointing a meaty finger towards the vacant chair before him, his eyes quickly traveling through the room and sent Opie a knowing look, "Sit your ass down, Ope," noticing the hesitancy the big man felt, Bobby grinned in bemusement, "–this isn't an interrogation, well, depends on how you look at it, son."

Reluctantly easing himself in the chair, Bobby was extremely thankful that Clay had most of the boys busy in either the garage working or out on business, because knowing that this was the only time he could admit having a one on one conversation with the man, the last thin Opie needed were people sniffing around his personal life. "You got something to say, old man?"

Bobby chuffed in annoyance, "You gonna keep that woman locked away forever, Ope?" For a moment all Opie did was stare at him in confusion, a blatant front to keep himself from losing his calm, and shrugged.

"I don't know what you're talking about," but Bobby could see the truth expressed on the man's face and guffawed.

"I might be old but I'm not blind, son. Pretty thing rides a Mustang, don't she?"

And the reaction he received was something neither of them expected. He had seen enough through his life to know that the look flashing across Opie's eyes was something feral—a sight that he had seen multiple times in his life but never in Opie's.

The stool squeaked in process before clattering towards the floor, the rage pooling from the man being a clear inclination that things were about to get heated, "Did he tell you?!" When Bobby failed to answer quickly, Opie took a step towards him, "—Jax! He's the only one who knew about her. Did he tell you?!"

Silence lingered in the air as Opie's chest heaved with each breath he took and had he blinked at that moment, Bobby would have missed the look of desperation crossing the man's eyes.

And it was then that Bobby realized the reason why Opie fought to keep this a secret. "What—?"

Before the old man could comprehend a word in assurance, the furious man had crossed the room in three long strides, his fingers wrapping around the doorknob leading to the lot and knew that if he didn't act soon that something was bound to happen—and not in the best of ways, "I saw her with the kids," Bobby was quick to elaborate, "—picking them up from school. Got them ice-cream and drove off before I decided to come here. Thought it better not to cause a scene if she ended up being some gash—."

Cause you know how the saying goes; loose lips sink ships. And for Bobby Munson, it had been his ultimate mistake at dubbing the woman as such.

Tension rolling off the man, Opie turned towards him with a murderous glare, "What did you just say?" He shook his head furiously before pointing a finger at the old man, "—she's not a gash, Bobby. She's more than that," a frown tugged his eyebrows together before a chocked laugh tumbled from his lips. "If I so much as see any one of you near her," for a moment, Bobby could only blink at the hidden threat lingering in his voice, "—there will be hell to pay."

Bobby Munson was left in silence, watching on in silent contempt at the door swinging back and forth. "Jesus Christ, Ope!" Jax.

The door swung open again and the concerned, yet questioning gaze of Clay Morrow appeared before him. "Wanna tell me why Opie just tore outta the lot looking ready to kill someone?"

Bobby Munson merely shook his head, "I mentioned Donna. He couldn't handle it so he took off. Don't be expecting him back soon."

It was the only reasonable excuse he could come up with at that moment because Bobby knew all he needed to know. Because whoever this woman was, she obviously meant a lot to Opie and that alone was enough reason for Bobby to keep quiet.

If she made him happy then who was he to stand in the way. Kid had been through enough with the club business and Donna's death looming over his shoulder.

"He'll come around."

Budapest.

"You have got to be fucking joking with me..." Disbelief would have been a gross understatement to describe what José Fernandez was feeling at that precise moment as he stared at the letters mocking him in black and white.

This was where it all started. Had Dianne O'Neil known of the consequences she'd be facing for accepting the daunting challenge laid before her in price of her freedom, José doubted she would have accepted it without thinking of the consequences she'd face.

José had learnt a valuable lesson from his time as an assassin—once you accepted a hit, there was no going back. This was all about revenge and vengeance—and when both of those components collided with one another, well there was nothing that could be done.

He couldn't keep this from Dianne; knowing that if this information were to get in the wrong hands, well the consequences that would follow wasn't something the man wanted to think about let alone imagine.

He had come too far to let this slip through his grasp. He had seen far enough in his life to know that nothing good would come from this. Dianne O'Neil wasn't a woman who took kindly to betrayal; that much he had learnt through personal experience when she had stumbled through his eyes covered in blood.

"I kill them all." But remembering the last phone call he had gotten from Dianne, the man found him hesitant to shatter the happiness she had found in the past month and a half. Though he had expressed that she was moving a little too fast, she had assured him that she hadn't forgotten.

That when it came down to business, she'd leave it all behind in a heartbeat but knowing the woman better than he had led her to believe, José knew that she was only fooling herself.

Dianne O'Neil had changed.

He could hear it in her manner of speech. And once more, he found himself hesitant to break her moment of solitude; a freedom she hadn't had in a long time since the passing of Wren.

But it was important to be a step ahead of the enemy. It would take time but José knew how to play the game of chess.

One was always a step ahead of the other and for Ethan Zobelle—well that man had another thing coming.

Because sooner rather than later, he and everyone else who had a hand in the murder of Wren O'Neil would discover the reason why the assassination world feared the Baba Yaga.

Death was coming for them. Just like it was coming for him and there wasn't a damn thing anyone could do to stop that from happening.

"Once you let the darkness in, it will never come out." The Devil had finally come out to play.

AN: Kudos to lagoon childe for making the connections. Ethan Zobelle will be playing a much larger role than he did during season two so I'm hoping that was a twist most of you didn't see coming. I have so much planned for this so I can't wait to hear what you guys think.

And thank you for giving me four reviews! I appreciate each and every one of them. I'm glad that I'm doing something right. Please tell me what you thought of Bobby's view of things, as I intended it for Gemma to be the one finding out. But Dianne will be introduced soon, I promise.

As for Opie's reaction, I hope that I didn't make him seem OOC.

Thanks for all the reads, reviews, favorites and follows—your support means the world to me.

Remember, review is love.

Much love,

Nicole J. Coltan.