AN: So my plan is to little one-shots based off of each episode. They might be moments within the episode, before or after, whatever inspires me in that moment. I plan on having two stories per episode (maybe more, we'll see). This will be updated once a week, likely on a Saturday, but forgive me if I fall behind, since First Son, Cursed Son is my priority. Thank you!
Episode 1: Pilot
Tara mets Jax's Son
She's running, running down a stretch of road that is never ending, as the world behind her drops out from beneath her. She has to keep running or she's going to fall right off the edge of the Earth and she'll die. Her legs are heavy and she can't breathe and she's getting slower and slower, the edge is getting closer and closer. She wonders if she just stopped running, what would happen. How bad can it hurt to die anyways?
"Tara." Someone says loudly, touching her shoulder and she startles awake. She's not running, she's cramped in an uncomfortable hospital bed, taking advantage of her hour-long break to get some much-needed sleep.
"What?" She asks, looking up at the nurse who's eyeing her with what looks like pity and worry.
"We need you in surgery right now." She says and Tara sits up, rubbing her eyes, trying to clear the haze of the dream from her mind.
"What's wrong?" She asks, stretching and cracking her neck, then hopping off the bed and following the nurse.
"We have a mom who came in. Meth addict by the looks of it, they're running a tox screen right now so we should know soon, but she just delivered a baby. A little boy." The nurse says and Tara picks up her pace. She's seen plenty of mothers come in with drug problems and what damage they do to an infants tiny body since she's moved back to Charming.
"What are we looking at?" Tara asks briskly, rounding a corner. The nurse is jogging slightly to keep up.
"Well, he's premature." The nurse says and Tara looks at her in disbelief.
"Well with an meth addicted mother, I assumed that. How early?" She demands, pulling her hair back once more.
"He's 30 weeks." The nurse reveals. "He's got a tear in his abdomen, he's addicted to meth, and…" She hesitates and Tara stops, stopping her as well.
"What about this case aren't you telling me?" She asks bluntly.
"He has a heart defect." The nurse states and Tara can't help that an image of Jax flashes in her mind but she hastily pushes it away, trying to remain professional. She nods and turns to walk into the NICU before the nurse catches her arm. Tara turns, raising an eyebrow.
"Every moment I'm not with that baby, his chances of surviving drop, so would you please tell me, why I'm not in there!" She says heatedly and the nurse opens and closes her mouth before sighing.
"Tara, his mother is Wendy Case." She says and Tara furrows her eyebrows, not sure what this has to do with her saving the baby's life. "And his father… It's Jackson Teller's son."
The reaction is instantaneous. Tara grabs onto a crash cart and hangs on tight. Her legs are no longer beneath her. They've disappeared somewhere else. She can't focus on anything. There's a funny buzzing in her ears, but it's not loud enough to drown out the soundtrack of her youth.
"Darlin'…" Jax would drawl, a confident smile turning up the corners of his mouth as he watched her. "I'm just sayin', I want a big family."
"I don't!" She had responded, laughing, squirming out of reach and staring balefully at him.
"C'mon, don't tell me you haven't thought about it." He would suggest and she would always laugh and shake her head.
"You don't want kids now anyways." She had pointed out and that would make him shrug.
"I know I want them with you though, Tara." That had always been his answer, no matter where the conversation had gone.
Jax Teller has a son and it is not hers. She could never have asked him to not fall in love again. She knew Jax Teller as a 16 year old and she knows men like him don't change. But she never thought she would be in the NICU, prepping to go save his son's life.
"Tara, you can't be in here." A loud voice says, drawing her back to the hospital. She blinks and a serious man with silver hair and deep wrinkles is looking at her with narrowed eyes.
"George." She says instantly.
"I know who he is and I know who his father is to you." The elder doctor says firmly and Tara grimaces at the memories of being the infamous girlfriend of the infamous prince.
"I can help." She insists. "You know my track record on cases like this. I want to work on him. I want to help save him. He's just another life to me, just another case. I'm requesting that I be put on Baby Teller's case." She says loudly and he sighs deeply, scratching his forehead.
"Fine." He allows. "You're on the case, but at the first sign that I see it's getting personal, you're off. I don't think there's anything we can do now, just monitor and see if he gets strong enough for us to go in and repair his stomach. You can go in and see him, then I want you to attend the mother." He orders and she nods. He leaves and she takes a moment to compose herself then slides into the room where the baby is.
She physically gasps at the sight of him. He is tiny. She is no stranger to small babies. In her time at Chicago and now here, she has seen plenty of cases where they're even smaller than he is. But this baby… She stares down at him in horror and amazement.
She wonders if he'll have Jax's eyes. Or his nose. He has his father's creamy skin, though she can hardly see any of it from the covering of tubes and wires. She watches sadly as his chest rises and falls with great difficulty. He has his father's heart.
She can't help but switch into doctor mode, monitoring his vitals and looking at his chart. It is not a pretty affair. Her mind automatically begins to compare this case with the many that she has dealt with over the years. She lines up his case and weighs whether he will survive or not.
Except this baby is not like the many others that she has been on. If this tiny person doesn't survive, she won't go into the waiting room with her head bowed respectfully and inform a devastated couple that their child didn't make it. She will have to tell Jax and Gemma, maybe even Opie or Chibs or Tig, who ever has made the trek to the hospital.
What if this had been her son? What if she had stayed, started her practice here? Would she be married to Jax by now? Would this be a younger brother or the first in a long line? She had never been able to tell Jax no, and after years in the NICU, her desire for a baby has only grown.
She would've had Jax Teller's sons. She had wanted them, long ago. Had wanted to give him the large family he had always desired and asked for. But now, looking down at the baby in front of her, she resigns herself to the fact that the time to do that was long ago. She is not going to have Jax's child. But she can do something. She can save this one.
"Get stronger." She whispers to the little form. "Once you're strong enough, I promise I'll help you. You're going to live and thrive and grow up, ok? We're going to get you through this and you're going to be big and strong and one day I will think about you and I will know that no matter what I did all that I could to protect you. So get stronger. And then I promise it'll be ok." She gently touches the incubator then gathers up his charts and heads towards Wendy's room. It's time for her to do the job that she left Jax Teller for.
Gemma mets her grandson
"Is he not coming back?" Tara demands, watching Jax storm out of the hospital in disbelief.
"No." Gemma says shortly, a faint sense of pride consuming her as she knows what her son is about to do.
"Come with me. You can wait while we run tests on Abel." She tells Gemma, leading her to the waiting room. She disappears through another door and Gemma stands for a while, scowling at the magazine selection, cursing at the channels on the TV, and picking at her nails.
She slumps in the hospital chair, rubbing her forehead. Her stomach hasn't felt this knotted and out of control for a long time, not since Jax wavered in his decision to join the club. Why is it always her son that causes her grey hair? She rubs her knees, wondering if getting up and walking will makes the stiffness in them better or worse when someone enters the waiting room.
"Gemma." Tara says quietly and Gemma stares evenly at her. She hasn't forgotten the memories, no matter how many years have passed. She will never forgive the woman across from her for a list of things that she has held in the back of her mind for years.
"Good or bad?" She asks flatly, refusing to stand at Tara's request.
"Is Jax coming back?" Tara asks again and Gemma glowers at her, refusing to answer. "Ok." Tara sighs, resigning herself to dealing with Gemma. "Well, Abel is somewhat stable. You can see him, but you can't touch him and it won't be for very long." She warns.
"I want to see my grandson." Gemma says firmly and Tara leads her through the set of doors she had disappeared through earlier. Gemma follows, her heels clicking on the tiled floor.
"He's through there." Tara says quietly, gesturing through a large window. Gemma stares at the mess of wires and machines, in which her first grandson is tangled. Tara waits, until Gemma looks at her, arching an eyebrow.
"You gonna let me in, or what?" She asks icily and Tara shakes her head. "Then you can run, doc." She says nastily, pushing the door open. She hears the noise of frustration Tara makes and smirks.
The smile is wiped off her face as she observes Abel for a long moment. She sets her purse on a chair and leans heavily against wall, just observing. She wants to get closer, but she remembers Tara's words and despite her dislike of the doctor, she doesn't want to do anything to endanger her grandson.
"Grandson." She whispers, as though she's testing the word. "Abel." The little boy doesn't stir, but she didn't have too much hope that he would react. She watches him thoughtfully.
He is too small for her to tell if he looks like Jax or Wendy. She knows how strong the Teller genes are- both her boys had hardly a drop of her in them. Even now, Jax resembles his father in a way that is somewhat unsettling. She prays for a long moment that the boy resembles no one but his father then leans forward to inspect him closely.
She has a sudden moment of déjà vu. She's done this before, twice. She takes a deep breath before the tears can spring to her eyes. She's stronger than this. She has spent years wrapping her heart in iron so that she will never feel that sort of heartbreak before, but now there's a chance it could all coming rushing back to her. She refuses to let it.
"You look more like Thomas." She whispers, before she can stop herself. "He was small too. Your daddy, he was stronger. Bigger. Thomas though, he was just tiny. He was a fighter. He fought for every moment he ever had on this Earth. And you will too, won't you Abel?"
She watches as his tiny chest rises and falls, struggling even as he's helped by the machines surrounding him. The statistic Tara quoted comes to mind. 20%. There is an 80% chance that come tomorrow morning or in a week or sometime soon, she will no longer be a grandma. She won't hold that title long before the little boy in front of her will be gone.
"You're a Teller." She tells the baby, her voice a little louder and a little stronger. "You're a Teller and that means you will have to scratch and claw and dig your place in this world. We live rough. We live fast. We're not a safe, comfy, little family. I want to tell you that you'll be fine but if you're not a fighter, Abel Teller, I don't know how much I can protect you."
She thinks of Jackson. Her eldest, her first born. He was always going to be her son, from the moment he was born and his cry split the delivery room. The doctors had told her of his flaw, of the heart that wasn't complete, but she knew better. She saw that pink face and his blue eyes and she knew that he would live and grow up, no matter what.
She searches for that same strength in Abel, trying to see if his little hands are clenched into fists. That had been the different between Jax and Thomas- Jax had came out of her womb ready to battle the world he had been born into. Thomas had been softer, his palms more open, ready to grab onto anyone who would offer him a finger. He had been so open to the world. She had loved Thomas as much as Jax, of that she has no doubts. They were her boys, her whole world, her future and reason for being.
But Jax had taken after her and Thomas had taken after John. Jax had been the child to run, unconcerned of if the next step he took would be his last. Thomas had been calmer, always smiling. She had loved that smile. She hadn't realized how much she had depended on that smile to get through her basic day.
She had been lost without her Thomas. She had been repulsed by John after Thomas's death. Perhaps he reminded her too much of the sweet boy she had lost. She idolized Jax in those moments, was thankful to see her strong son growing up and blossoming. Her relationship with Clay was doing the same and she fell in love with his strength, even when it translated to ruthlessness.
"Be like your father." She orders. "Be like him and force the world to do what you want. He's not here. I don't know when you'll meet him, Abel, but when you do, he's going to fall in love with you. He'll do anything to protect you. You're his son and there's nothing more important to a Teller than family."
She had always wanted a big family. She had always wanted kids, though she wanted sons and not daughters. She had been overjoyed to give John his sons. She had felt proud to see the legacy of the club continued in the two blond heads that she paraded around. They were her life's work and her greatest gift to John and the Sons.
"You are an heir to a throne, Abel Teller." She says, her voice rising to its normal pitch. "You are a Son, just like your father and your uncle. You are going to learn from your father how to ride and rule. You'll make us proud Abel, but you need to get through this. Pull through this and grow up. Grow up strong and proud and live a long life."
The little boy stirs and she holds her breath for a long moment. He twitches slightly, his tiny hands opening then balling into fists. Her mouth slowly grows into a smirk. There he is. There's Jackson Teller's son. He will grow up strong and proud and true. She has seen three boys before. Her three boys and each time she has cursed her genes for making her doubt their future.
None has been in as dire straits as Abel. Each has faced the problem of a weak heart, a flawed heart. But Abel has had to already overcome a mother trying to kill him. She won't. A Teller is not so easily slain. She has doubted a lot in her life, but she doesn't doubt this. She is a grandma, from this moment on. And she always will be, because this boy is going to live.
"See you soon, Abel." She says quietly, picking up her purse and walking out of the room, pausing to smile at the little boy. He looks so small. He needs something to be marked as a warrior. She makes a mental note to bring him something from the club then goes to find Tara. She wants to know the exact plan the doctor has in mind for her grandson.
AN: Ok, first episode done! I think that since Abel's birth kicks off the show, it's only fair that I explore how the two of the most important women in his life reacted to it. Fun exploring Tara and Gemma. Thanks for reading, let me know what you think please!