Prologue: Welcome to Charming

A red light kept flashing on the officer's desk phone, a call left on hold that he hadn't bothered to answer to yet, the constant reminder invisible to him as he kept going through the papers in front of him. The young girl across from him, on the other hand, had been fixating on it the entire time, silent, her face betraying no emotion as she looked at the dark object, not even glancing at the man even after the social worker had just asked her question.

"Ms. Telford."

His voice had been a little louder this time and the woman made the effort of looking back at him, a surprised look on her face like she hadn't been expecting an exchange.

"I'm sorry?"

"Look, I understand that this is difficult for you, I do, but I'm still going to need a little bit of cooperation from you," he explained, and she didn't answer, her face remaining the same as she let him continue. "I need to know if your mother left anything in your possession considering her will, her accounts, anything that could help us evaluate how to handle the situation."

"No."

The worker sighed but she could tell he was trying very hard to keep his composure in front of her. She was well aware that her attitude wasn't helping him in the slightest but she couldn't seem to find it in her to care. Glancing at the name tag on his desk before going back to his face, the young woman took a calming breath; her jaw so tightly held she could feel her headache growing worse by the second.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cox, I really am," she repeated, and his face showed his exhaustion with her by every movement he made. "She never gave me anything. She never said anything."

Mr. Cox nodded slowly, going back to his papers to note some things down as her eyes went back to the flashing red light. She wondered who was on the other end of the line waiting to get his attention, wishing they would get it so she wouldn't have to hold it anymore. Her eyelids felt heavy over her dark eyes, claiming her a little bit of rest that she couldn't allow herself just yet. The man in front of her brought his papers into a messy pile and placed them back in their file as he looked at her with a mix of compassion and anger, though she couldn't quite figure out which one won over the other.

"This is your first time dealing with social services, am I correct?" he asked her after a moment, bringing his fingers together in front of him with his elbows firm on the table, a stance she was used to seeing with many men she'd met in her short life.

"With you, yes," she answered, sending a quick flash of confusion in the man's eyes before he went back to his serious stare.

"I'm guessing it will be the last," he continued, undisturbed, as the woman shrugged a shoulder slowly.

"I suppose."

Officer Cox let himself smile slightly, his blonde mustache curling upwards as he did so. The girl took a short breath, unable to smile back, her wide eyes waiting for him to elaborate. He took a moment to study her features, a soft child-like face with sad eyes, and fear of the unknown shining through them betraying her feelings and giving a hint of her young age. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like to be sitting in her place, a nervous wreck surrounded by busy strangers always asking questions. She was tough, he had to give her that, keeping a straight face, holding her tears in, being polite, silent, as cooperative as he thought she could manage to be. But the bright neon atop of their heads and the lack of sleep showed on her face, and he could tell she was straining herself to try and keep it together.

"Your mother did leave something before she passed," the social worker told her, and the teenager brought her body closer as her face lit up with interest.

"She did?"

"Yes."

Officer Cox took a moment to go back in his file and searched for a short time before finding the paper he was looking for. He laid it in front of him, glancing it over before sliding it on the table and turning it so it would face her.

"It's not a will per say, and it doesn't tell us anything about her belongings or anything of the sort," he added, watching as her eyes traced the sheet over and over, comprehension never hitting her face. The reason was simple: the lack of sleep and her tired nerves had her brain in an incomprehensive mess, and her eyes couldn't focus on the words long enough for her to read them.

"What is it about then?" she asked, almost breathless, only glancing for a second at him before she went back to the sheet, a letter busy with her mom's handwriting, a letter she knew she'd read over and over again, but not now.

Now her lungs were empty of any air and her lips felt dry, and her heart was a complete wreck threatening to jump out of her rib cage at any moment.

"It's about you."

"Me?"

The young girl fixated her stare on the man as he nodded, taking the letter back from her to place it with the rest of the paperwork.

"Before passing away, your mother left this note," he explained, stating the obvious as she swallowed, nodding quickly, asking him to go on. "In the possibility that my daughter, Hannah Jane Telford, that's you," he said, reading off the letter and pointing at her when he said her name. "... is still a minor at the time of my passing, she will be sent to live with her legal guardian, Filip Telford, until she reaches at least eighteen years of age."

Hannah's eyes went wide as she let herself fall on the chair, surprised that her mother had even thought about doing any of that. She had never been one for organisation, looking ahead and what not, and hadn't even been able to do a proper will. To learn that she had set a plan for her daughter in the case of her passing broke her heart more than it should have, and the teenager cleared her throat to bring herself back to the present conversation.

"We checked everything, this Filip Telford was indeed declared your legal guardian when your mother passed away," the man added, and Hannah nodded slowly, taking the information in little by little.

It only made sense that she would be sent to her uncle, it was the only family she had left. Yet, she couldn't understand how in the world her mother had been able to bring herself to accept that her only daughter be sent to him if she died. Her mom hated him, hated everything about him: his club, his motorcycle, his accent, his scars, his life. After what had happened with her husband, Hannah's mother had never been able to look at her uncle the same: she saw too much resemblance between the two men. Hannah did too, but that had only made her want to see him more. Unfortunately, she was still a kid the last time she'd gotten to spend a day with him.

"You're sending me to California?"

Her voice had gotten calmer and softer, and the social worker only nodded at her question before making the corner of his mustache rise up again.

"The car is leaving on Tuesday morning at seven, and I'll accompany you myself for the drive down. Any questions?"

Hannah only shook her head, not completely realizing that she had to say goodbye to her home town of Seattle for the last time so she could go live all the way to California with a man she hadn't seen in eight years.

"Where will I sleep?"

"We've settled a temporary room for you in the second wing of the bureau, we're prepared for those eventualities, don't worry," he assured her, and Hannah only nodded.

"Thank you."

The social worker smiled at her again and the young girl managed to answer the gesture for a second, knowing that he was only trying to make her feel comfortable.

"You're welcomed. Come, I'll show you to your room."

Hannah followed Mr. Cox down the hall and through many doors; so much she'd stopped counting, and had finally been brought to her room for two days. The place was small, simple, barely any colors and things to entertain herself with, but it was fine for her. Hannah had never needed much more than a book and her music to handle being alone for long periods of time.

"Make yourself at home," Cox said, and Hannah went to sit on the uncomfortable bed slowly, her shoulders so brought down on herself she looked like a small child. "If you need anything, just ask, there are attendants down the halls at all times... I'm sorry for your loss, Ms. Telford."

Hannah looked at the social worker for the last time before letting her face fall, her chest so tight she could feel it crack under the pressure of all the feelings she'd been keeping in for the last couple of hours. Her features twisted in a scowl as her view clouded with tears she couldn't hold back anymore.

"Yeah, me too."


The car was brought to a stop slowly, her body jerking only slightly as she held on harder to the wooden box between her shaking fingers. The remains of her mother were only a small consolation to her being in a completely different place, out of her element and away from everything she ever knew. She did know the place, she remembered being brought here, being passed around for everyone to see, her uncle's arms holding her up like a lost daughter. She remembered laughing, smiles and shouts of celebration, and tall men in leather armor. She remembered getting a sense of what a family was when she came here, and how her parents had been happy. It was only a vague memory now though, and when she stepped foot outside of the car, she couldn't recognize anything.

Mr. Cox stood beside her as he studied the place, a funny looking garage with what seemed like a private house by the entrance, joined by his college Mrs. Greg who had made the drive with them. It couldn't have been earlier than two or three in the morning, the ride had been long and they hadn't bothered to stop to rest, the two workers switching places to drive, but the place was still packed with people, and loud too. Hannah brought her mom's ashes closer to her chest as she swallowed, feeling like a doe in headlights, afraid, petrified, unable to do anything but to stand there and wait.

Finally the door to the rather big house opened, and Hannah swore she could see her father walk towards her with arms stretched out on each side, waiting to finally hold her in his arms.

"Hanna," her uncle sighed, making the final steps towards her before she was engulfed into a warm and comforting hug, her little box pressed up between him and her. "Look at ya."

He cupped her face between his hard skinned hands and smiled softly, his eyes studying her up and down in surprise. "Ye look beautiful."

Hannah let a tear fall down her cheek as she studied him back, finding in his eyes the same warmth and love she'd seen eight years prior, when she was still a child and he was still family. Her uncle Chibs erased the tear with a finger, and she could swear he had to wipe one of his own, but she didn't say anything. She'd missed him, she realized, and even though she was far from where she wanted to be, she was glad he was there.

Chibs brought her into another hug and kissed her forehead softly, a gesture only another man had even done to her, a man she caught herself seeing every time her eyes landed back on her uncle.

"Welcome to Charming, love."


Hi everyone! Thank you for reading this, I'm working very hard on this story so I do hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think by reviewing, I'd greatly appreciate it. The first chapters will mostly be fillers to ease you into the story and understand the characters better, but I still hope it's good. Note that this is taking place a little more than five years before season one, so before Opie even goes to prison. Anyway, thanks for reading :D

Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize about the Sons of Anarchy, only my OC.