I just finished re-watching season 3 of SOA and I got the idea, when Jax and Trinity find out they're siblings. I always wondered what would happen is Gemma and Clay had a daughter. This is about Gemma and Clay's sixteen year old daughter who was born two years after John Teller died. Her name is Kayla Lynn Morrow.
Jax's POV:
There was a slight chill to the November air and the smell of exhaust was potent in the air. I sucked in a deep breath and stared at the '58 model Harley I was working on. It was my father's first bike and he passed it on to me, saying that all I needed to do was make it work. I wiped my grease stained hands on a towel that I'd thrown over my shoulder before I'd started working and stood up from the small stool I was perched on.
"Hey, Lowell," I called to my father's favorite mechanic. The only one he trusted to work on his bike. Lowell looked over his shoulder and nodded. "Mind putting my bike away?" I threw a thumb over my shoulder at the shiny black bike behind me.
"Sure thing, boss," Lowell answered and started jogging over to my bike.
I wasn't really the boss. Just the boss' fifteen year old son. People often called me the prince because my father founded The Sons of Anarchy, which made him the king.
I threw my towel into the small hamper in the corner of the garage and turned, planning on heading to the clubhouse, but stopped dead in my tracks when I saw my mother and Uncle Clay sitting at one of the picnic benches. From my place in the garage I could just make out Clay's hand rubbing the length of my mom's thigh and see her head gently resting on his shoulder. I growled under my breath and clenched my fists at my sides.
I knew my father was falling apart. Ever since Tommy died he hadn't been the same. He seemed...distant and didn't have the same passion he once did in regard to the club. My mother tried to help him at first. She tried offering to talk and taking him on long vacations to take his mind off things, but nothing seemed to work. So, instead of being persistent and finding other ways to help him, she slowly drifted from him and toward Clay. Everyday she tried less and less to hide her and Clay's budding relationship. I was mad at her in the beginning, but every time I saw my father I couldn't help but blame him. If he had been stronger and held himself together, then my family would still be whole. Then my mother wouldn't have been forced into Clay's arms.
I looked out at my mom and Clay and made a silent promise to myself. I would never become my father. When my time came to take over the club, I would lead fairly and the way the club should be led. I would not let it perish before me while I wallowed in my own grief.
Don't get me wrong. I loved my father. He was a role-model. Forming this club and carrying it successfully for so long. I remember when I was younger and he would let me wear his cut after he took it off for the night. I would parade around the house, drowning in the too big cut. I couldn't wait until the day I turned eighteen and took my place at the table. I still couldn't wait. Only three more years and I'd be wearing my own cut, riding my own motorcycle, and have my own seat in church.
I leaned against the doorframe of the garage, staring out into the setting sun. It had been a long day and all I needed was for my mother to stop cuddling with Clay and drive me home.
I was still in my place in the garage when Unser pulled up. He parked the squad car in the middle of the parking lot and made his way toward my mother and Clay. I stayed put, watching the three of them talk. When Unser was finished he hung his head and Gemma cried out, leaning into Clay for support. I rushed toward them, easily closing the distance between us.
"What's wrong?" I demanded, my eyes danced between the three of them, begging someone to answer my question.
Clay's arms tightened around my mom, but she pulled away and reached for my hand.
"Baby, we need to talk," She said, ignoring the stray tear that wandered down her face.
I nodded and looked back at Clay and Unser while she pulled me away.
"What's wrong?" I repeated, urgently searching her face for answers.
"It's your dad..." She said. "He was hit by a semi. He's in the hospital. He's critical." She dropped my gaze and stared at the concrete.
My stomach dropped and my body filled with rage. I angrily stubbed the toe of my white sneaker into the ground, but said nothing. I was still wondering why my mother was so sad, when she had just been hanging all over Clay. Wasn't she over my father?
"Come on," She said, grabbing my shoulders and steering me forward. "We're going to the hospital."
My father's head was swaddled in white bandages and there were tubes and needles sticking out from every piece of exposed skin on his body. His face was a sickly color, that was only made worse by the harsh fluorescent lights. I felt a sob rock through my body and I knelt down beside his bed.
"Is he going to be okay?" I choked out, letting my long blonde hair fall into my face.
"He's a Teller," Gemma said. "Teller's are strong," She replied, without really answering my question.
My mother was a very blunt person. She always had the answers and said exactly what was on her mind. When she beat around the bush it wasn't usually a good sign.
I gulped and reached for my father's hand, cupping it in two of mine. "You're going to be okay, Dad," I whispered. My voice was shaking as though I was trying to convince myself of what I was saying.
My mother and I sat with my dad for a while. We took turns holding his hand and whispering out encouragements. Gemma was really shaken up. She kept turning away to wipe her tears. I was shocked, because I was so sure that she had moved on from my father. Left him, because he wasn't who he used to be, but here she was sitting at his deathbed, telling me he was strong. Gemma stood up for family no matter what and John was family, that meant she would be here for him, whether she still loved him the way she had fifteen years ago or not.
It was two days after my father's accident. His condition hadn't changed and he hadn't woken up or even lifted a finger. The doctors had no more hope. They told my mother their was no brain activity and she had to make a decision on whether or not to end his life support. She had chosen yes, explaining to me that my father wouldn't want to live his life hooked up to a machine in a hospital bed.
I was standing by my father's bed, while my mother talked to a doctor. I gently held his hand. A million things flew through my mind and I couldn't sort through my thoughts. Gemma finally came over to join me, reaching for John's free hand, then mine. We stood like that in the small circle of our family, while the doctor turned off the life support machine and the heart monitor slowly beeped to a stop.
I didn't know I was crying, until I felt the tears trailing down my cheeks. Gemma pulled me against her chest and rubbed soothing circles on my back. "You're dad was a good man who had a lot of shit on his plate," She whispered and kissed my cheek.
I pulled away and looked up at her. There were tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. I knew she was holding them back, trying to keep them from falling.
"He loved you," I told her, because I knew she needed a reminder. "He loved Tommy, too."
"I know he did, baby. He loved you, too. Always," She whispered and pulled away from me. Gently, kissing his cheek one last time.
At the funeral, I sat next to my mother, staring at my father's casket. I wore a pair of jeans and a blank leather cut, because I wasn't yet part of the Sons. I was more of an honorary member. My mother held my hand and Clay held her free one. Out of the corner of my eye I saw them sneak a kiss when the service was over. I knew that this was it. My father's death would be the permission Clay and my mother needed to shed light on their secret relationship.
Sure enough, only three days after John's funeral, Clay and Gemma stood up in the clubhouse and announced what was already obvious. They were dating. Gemma claimed it was because she was grieving, but we all knew that this had been brewing long before my father's death. I didn't blame my mom. I loved her enough that I knew she deserved to be happy. Being with my father didn't make her happy, and even though I was young, I understood that.
Within the next two years Clay and Gemma got married. In March of '95 Gemma told the club she was pregnant. By then I had already been dating my girlfriend Tara for a year and I'd become accustomed to Clay being my step father, I was able to be happy for them. I was excited, too. A few months later they found out the baby was a girl and Gemma was already making Clay sign check after check to paint the nursery and have department stores deliver furniture. They had already picked out a name, too. Kayla Lynn Morrow. Gemma was ecstatic. I knew she had always wanted a girl, since she has been surrounded by men most of her life.
Six years later...
I sat next to Tara at Kayla's sixth birthday party. We were all gathered around Clay and Gemma's dining room table. The lights were off and a huge ice cream cake with a picture of The Little Mermaid on it, was stuck with seven glowing candles (one for good luck) and placed in front of little Kayla who was seated at the head of the table on Clay's lap.
Tara smiled and leaned into me. I naturally wrapped my arm around her and smiled at my younger sister. She was laughing wildly as the club belted out 'Happy Birthday'.
"Make a wish, Kaybear," Clay said when it was quiet again.
Kayla leaned over the cake, while Clay held back her long dark hair. She closed her eyes and blew out the candles. Everyone cheered, which only made Kayla laugh again. She'd lost her first tooth this week and there was a gap where her front tooth was missing.
Gemma walked over with a huge knife in one hand and a stack of paper plates tucked under her arm. Of course, my mother was always ready. She methodically cut slices, placed them on the plates, and passed them around. I pushed back from the table and made my way over to Kayla. I scooped her up and swung her around.
"Happy Birthday, Kiki," I said, offering her a huge smile. Then I slipped her a small box from the inside of my cut that Tara had wrapped in bright pink wrapping paper. "From me and Tara," I told her.
Kayla's eyes widened at the sight of it. She took the gift and ran back to Clay's lap. I took my seat next to Tara again. There was a huge piece of cake sitting in front of me, with a plastic spoon waiting on the plate. I gulped it down, then left, because Tara had an early shift at the hospital. She was doing her internship at St. Thomas. She'd chosen not to leave Charming.
Ten Years Later...
Kayla's P.O.V
The bright sun streaming through my window woke me up. The calendar on the wall opposite my bed reminded me of the date. As if I needed reminding. December 3, 2011. I jumped up, suddenly excited, kicking my black and white comforter to the floor in the process.
My mother and father were sitting at the dining room table waiting for me. There were plates of food scattered around the table. Bacon, pancakes, eggs, and French toast were all waiting for me, their smell making my mouth water. Gemma smiled when she saw me and poured orange juice in my glass.
Clay came over and kissed the top of my head. "Happy Birthday, Kaybear," He said.
"Big sixteen," Gemma smiled, making her way over to me. Her high heeled boots click-clacked against the hard tiled floors. "Happy Birthday, baby," She whispered, kissing my head, too.
I took my place at the table, opposite Gemma, and to the left of Clay. My plate was already full with bacon, two pancakes, a pile of eggs, and a piece of French toast. I drowned it in syrup and dug in.
The back door burst open and Jax walked in holding Thomas followed by Tara who was balancing Abel on her hip. Both of my nephews were gorgeous with their bright blonde hair and cheery blue eyes. They were the spitting image of Jax.
Jax came around the table and planted a kiss on my forehead. "Happy Birthday Kiki," He said, handing me the 'Happy Birthday' gift bag he was holding. "Tara picked it out," He said sheepishly.
"Thank you," I said, then looked at Tara and smiled.
"Happy Birthday," Tara answered, letting Abel down. He bounded over to the table and climbed up onto Gemma's lap.
Jax sat down next to me, carefully shifting Thomas onto his lap. Tara took the seat next to Gemma and began making a plate for herself and Abel.
I sifted through the hot pink tissue paper and pulled out a fitted leather jacket, complete with an outlined cross on the back. I smiled. My mother had one just like it and it had always been my favorite.
"Thanks," I said again, turning from Jax to Tara. "I love it."
Jax reached over and messed with my hair, making my already messy bed head even worse. Then he helped himself to a plate and started eating.
"So, I'm going to head over to the clubhouse after we eat and start setting up for the party," My mom said, bouncing Abel on her lap.
I nodded, "I'l come help."
My mom and dad had insisted I have a huge Sweet Sixteen party, although dinner and cake with the club would've been fine with me.
"No, it's your birthday!" Gemma said, waving me away. "You just have fun and get your license." She winked at me.
"I can drive you to the DMV," Tara offered. I loved Tara. She had been part of my family for as long as I could remember and she made Jackson so happy. She'd even given me two beautiful nephews.
I smiled, "Thanks."
I pulled up to the clubhouse at seven o'clock, my new license was burning a hole in my wallet. Clay was letting me drive the late model Cadillac he kept in the garage at home, but never used. The outside of the clubhouse was covered in bright lights, balloons, and 'Happy Birthday'' signs. I smiled, leave it to my mother to decorate elaborately.
I hopped out of the car and jogged inside. I was wearing my new leather jacket, a pair of jeans, and high heeled leather boots. Around my neck was the necklace Jax had given me on my sixth birthday. I hardly ever took it off. It was a small round heart that read 'SAMCRO's Baby Girl', it was strung on a thin gold chain. My hair was loose and hung straight down to my lower back, and my eyes were lined with black pencil.
When I entered the clubhouse everyone erupted into cheers. They were all sitting around the bar or shooting pool around the table. Tig found me first, he kissed my forehead and said happy birthday. The rest of the members followed, giving me a hug and wishing me the best. The inside of the clubhouse was just as elaborately decorated as the outside. Lights were strung over the bar and signs covered every open wall. Bouquets of balloons were tied to the tables Gemma had set up in the middle of the room.
"Thanks mom," I said, flashing her a smile. She simply waved at me from her spot behind the buffet table as she turned on the lighters beneath the trays of food.
At 7:30, my best friend Taryn arrived, carrying a huge box wrapped in light pink paper. "Happy Birthday!" She cheered, pulling me into a hug. I thanked her for the gift, then placed it on the table in the corner, that Gemma had set aside of presents. It was already littered with a few from the club members.
The rest of my friends shuffled in after her, most of them coming in groups, probably intimidated, because the party was in the clubhouse. Some of them weren't even really my friends, I'm sure they were coming, just because they wanted to see the inside of the clubhouse. Most of the kids from my school lined the walls and wore terrified expressions, while I tried desperately to pull them to the center of the floor to dance.
Only Taryn and Will, a kid from my Chemistry class, obliged, dancing carelessly, like we weren't surrounded by nine bikers. For some reason that scared people, but if you really got to know the SAMCRO members you would realize that they are loving, caring men.
About an hour into the party more and more kids started filing onto the dance floor writhing wildly to the upbeat music, blasting out of the stereo system Gemma had rented for the occasion. Will kept getting closer and closer, letting his body grind against mine while we danced. I didn't really mind, he was kind of cute.
When Gemma announced that the food was served everyone formed a line around the small buffet table covered in aluminum trays, with steam floating up from them. I went to take my place in line behind Will, when someone grabbed my elbow and pulled me down the long hallway that led to the club's apartments.
I looked up to see Tig staring down at me. "Who's that boy?" He asked, gesturing in the general direction of the buffet table.
I didn't have to ask, I knew who he was talking about. "Just a boy," I answered calmly. "From my chemistry class."
"Well, unless he wants to leave with two unbroken legs he better stop rubbing up against you," Tig threatened.
Most people would be intimidated by Tig, but I merely laughed. "Tig, you're worse than my father." Although that wasn't entirely true, I'm sure Clay was just as angry about Will. Heck, the rest of the club was probably fuming as well. My necklace was right, I was SAMCRO's little girl and most of the club members were very protective of me. "Don't hurt him. He's harmless," I said, trying to protect Will.
"He better be," Tig answered, still angry.
"Relax," I said, waving Tig off. "Go have a beer."
The rest of the party went smoothly. Whenever a boy came up to me I could see the whole club tense out of the corner of my eye and I shot them my best intimidating look, hoping they wouldn't cause a scene and embarrass me. By the end of the night my feet were aching and my eyes were ready to close. I waved off the last of the guests and retreated back into the clubhouse.
My dad and mom both pulled me into a hug and kissed the top of my head. "Happy birthday again," They said in unison. The club members all looked tired as they scattered around the house, sprawling out on the couch or the pool table. A few of them retreated to the apartments down the hall.
Tara and Jax came over to say their goodbyes, Jax kissed my cheek, careful not to wake Abel who was asleep on his shoulder. Tara hugged me, shifting slightly as not to wake Thomas, who was sound asleep also. I waved them off, too. Then pulled off my boots, throwing them into the corner. They landed with a loud thud.
"Thanks, Mom," I said, hugging her tight again. "It was a lot of fun."
"Of course, baby," She whispered.
I know this is a very long first chapter, but I felt like I needed to write all of this at once. I kept Tara in Charming and made Abel her actual son, just to make the fic less confusing and to keep me from going off track about Kayla's life. This is the first fic I'm writing, where I'm creating a completely new character, so I'm kind of new at this. Well, I hope you like it! I'm not sure where I'm going with this or if I'll even continue, but leave reviews and let me know what you think!
