Author Note:

Okay so this is completely AU and my first FF story to have written/uploaded (Although I've been reading them for, like ever, lol) so I hope you like it.

Though I love Kurt Sutter to bits, I feel he neglected Tara a little. She had no family, nobody to confide in on the show, so I figured, I'd give her a family. (BTW she's of Irish/Italian descent- will explain further)

Word of warning, I'll try to remain as true to the characters as possible, but since this is AU, figured a little detour should suffice. And considering it's based in teenage years, we really have no idea what our favorite couple where like which makes it free to the imagination, so please no hate.

I'm blunt so if you lovely readers got advice and/or idea's as to how you'd like to see something play out- for me to work with- please, feel free to share your thoughts *Much appreciated*.

And if you get confused, all will explain in future chapters.

Disclaimer: I own nothing (but my Own Characters) they belong to the lovely Kurt Sutter.

Please review and let me know if I shall continue, lovely day ya'll

-KYHU

Summer of 1996

Tara rushed to the front door as she pulled a tank top over her disheveled bed hair, her mind frying with aimless thoughts on how she'd grill the living shit out of the douche bag banging on her front door as if it wasn't 9 O'clock in the fucking morning.

She'd only just managed not to trip over the last step of the staircase when the impatient imbecile began it's pounding, again. She wondered briefly if they knew just exactly whose house they were daring to shake of the household. But at the back of her mind, she knew who it was.

And she was pissed.

Tara thought better than to open her mouth knowing nothing other than a string of profanities would follow her huff of annoyance, but as she wiped the front door open, her sleepy, glassy green eyes narrowed to thin slits, a grim line forming on her lips as she silently confirmed her suspicions.

"What in the hell is your fucking problem? Have you dirt brain idiots never heard of sleep?" She never once bothered to wait for a response by the grinning teenage boys staring back at her dumbfoundedly, obviously taken aback by the foul words falling from her usually tight lipped mouth.

She shrieked as the cold morning breeze came in contact with her bare, thin covered black and white plaid pajama short, porcelain legs. She'd barely managed to cover her midsection with the matching spaghetti strapped pajama top when she had whipped the door open before the imbeciles could add to the damage of her suddenly thumping ear drums.

Fortunately for Tara, she was a heavy sleeper, not even a cannon could wake her up, but unfortunately, she'd only just gone to sleep 3 hours ago and with her father not home, she felt the familiar need to be on alert.

"It's what normal people do at 9am! So you fuckheads better have one helluva excuse for waking me up, or so help me god, I will make sure you horny cunts get cock blocked for the next damn month!" Tara cocked a perfectly plucked eyebrow, failing to see the humor as she waited for Jax and Opie's laughter to die down. She rested her gaze on Opie, trying desperately hard not to blush as Jax looked her over.

"That how it's gonna be, aye?" She questioned, having been left waiting impatiently for a response for what felt like 10 minutes. An indifferent huff resisted from her lips. Tara stepped back to slam her door shut but felt the sudden force of a large hand preventing the door from clicking in place.

Opie pushed it open and she was ready to cut his dick off. "Wait, Tara, common, I'm sorry, okay?!" A smirk spread across his face but immediately faded when Tara cut him a staunch glare.

"What do you want?" Her voice was much softer as she asked Opie unlike the bitter, almost murderous, tone she addressed the two when she graced her presence and Jax absentmindedly raised his brow.

"We're gonna have a party at the cabin and wanted you to come!"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I'm good, Ope." And she made an attempt to hide behind her front door but, yet again, before she succeeded her dismissal, Opie's large hand landed on the thick oak front door.

She crossed her arms over her chest as a scowl complemented her face at Opie's unspoken plea for her to come.

"Awe come on Tara. We'll be by your side the whole night. Just this once…" she shook her head, again, hoping they'd just take the hint.

Opie's effort to successfully create a pout with his mouth came off as a sly grin, one Tara had to restrain from slapping the shit out of. "Please, you never come out with us!" he stammered, mindfully bumping his shoulder, not so gently with Jax, when his best friend rolled his eyes as if he had no concern whether she chose to come or not.

"Donna's gonna be there!" Opie called swiftly, hoping the mention of his girlfriend would bring comfort to his friend.

Tara narrowed her mossy green eyes at him and pursed her lips while she held her ground. "Sorry but I doubt Papà would let me go!"

"It's Friday so he'll probably be at the club rager… seriously what's the harm? Have you never touched a beer in your life?" Tara bit back a scoff at Jax's clear stab for a response, the mischief glint crossing her suddenly lighter green eyes not being missed by an undoubtedly curious Jackson. Opie didn't catch the shift in her eyes before they returned to a neutral expression of doubt.

"Come on Ope, it's no use, she's cold turkey. We'll have more fun without her" Jax stated matter of factly as he stubbed out his cigarette.

"Oh is that right?" Tara snapped, eyes pinning on the smart ass who, for some unknown reason, made it his first priority to talk her down. And for the life of her, Tara Knowles, the oddly smart intelligent daughter of an Outlaw Motorcycle Enthusiast, had no idea why.

He shrugged his shoulders and Tara saw the grin spread across Opie's face as if he knew she was gonna give in.

"What time does it start?" She addressed Opie.

He grinned broadly. "7, probably won't be in full swing till 'round 9 though"

She nodded her head and took a step back behind the threshold. "Does Donna need a ride?"

Opie paused for a second before he gave a curt nod. "You could pick her up, Princess, I'll let her know!" Tara closed her door at that but not without hearing Jax scoff under his breath.

Any other time she would've just ignored his obvious hatred for her and went about her day, but it's like her feet suddenly became immobile and she was forced to listen.

"The hell is wrong with you bro? What'd she ever do to you? If you like her, quit acting like a jerk or one day you might regret it!" Opie snapped and Tara could just imagine the rare look of disapproval cross his scruffy features.

She frowned, definitely not agreeing with the last of Opie's statement. After all, when a guy had any interest in her, they'd simply ask her straight- or as straight as you could get considering her father makes it his first priority to threaten any guy after, her away- and Jax definitely wasn't the type to be after anything but pussy when it came to chicks.

"Fuck no I don't like her. She's a bookworm that lacks the fun and follows us everywhere, so don't mind me brother!" Jax snickered and without breaking a sweat, continued.

She wondered for a brief moment if he knew she was listening, but knowing Jax, he probably didn't give a shit.

"Anyway, I have enough girls at my beck and call willing to just drop their panties for me. Wouldn't want a prissy little thing like Tara!" Jax stated before Tara heard the familiar sound of a lighter being lit.

She backed away almost immediately after over hearing that. Her breath caught in her throat and she glared evilly at the door were Jax stood behind, hoping she could just do anything to get him out of her life. Her cheeks flustered and the unfamiliar feeling of tears building up in her eyes caught her off guard.

The salty water never once made it past the sockets of her eyes, yet she was angry at herself for allowing the mere words to affect her. She waited for the sound of Opie's truck to screech to life before running to her room.

Without wanting to spend another moment in silence, she pulled out her black skinny jeans and shoved them on, forcing her to think of something other than how she felt the sudden urge to rip off someone's head to feed her obvious hurt when she overheard Jax's opinion of her.

Of course she didn't give a shit, but she just couldn't place what those words did to her.

Tara instinctively reached for her dark woolen blazer over her black tank top to protect her sensitive skin from the chilly morning of Charming's breeze. Even after 6 months of living in America, she hadn't quite adjusted well to it's weather. In the morning there was always a chill that reminded her of the weather forecast in Ireland, then in the afternoon, it seemed she hadn't felt the underlying need to swim so much in her life.

Brushing her hair out quickly, she never bothered with her make up since she found it made her seem fake.

She reached for the keys to her father's cutlass in the middle draw of the hallway table and pulled her small cross bag over her body.

There wasn't any point locking up the house since nobody in Charming would ever dare thief off of a SON, but having been born and raised in Belfast, it was a constant for her to do so.

You don't come and go when you please and expect to return to an untouched house, like you could in Charming, which she found incredibly difficult to adapt to. You don't go walking around any corner and fear not being attacked, not necessarily out of retaliation, but just a simple- yet deadly- mugging. You need to remain smart if you wish to survive the threats of Belfast and Tara Knowles knew nothing else. She had grown up around the club life, was in even more danger considering her both her mother and father's Parent's occupation and there was nothing she could do about it.

Yanking the gear stick up the moment she'd pulled into the Parking Lot of TM, Tara pushed the door open and went in search of her father who was most probably in his dorm room since he failed to come home last night.

Respecting him enough to knock on the door for fear of walking in on something that'd pierce her heart for her dead mother, Tara waited for his familiar raspy voice.

"You okay baby?" He asked as she entered his room.

Tara nodded her head and collapsed in the nearby desk chair. She guessed she must've looked tense for her father to question. Jax's words continued to play over in her head, eating at her conscious.

"Papà?!" his head jerked in her direction at the sound of her soft small voice and he frowned the moment he set his eyes on her downcast face.

"Yeah baby?" Her fingers began to fidget in her lap as she contemplated if it was a good idea to bring up what she'd tried desperately to ignore.

"...did you seriously mean it when you said moving to Charming would be good for both of us?" her voice wavered despite her best efforts and he sighed deeply, feeling the sudden tension in his daughter's words.

"Yeah, Lala…" averting his gaze to look anywhere but his daughter, he couldn't help but anticipate her next words. Diezel ran a hand over his face.

"I wanna go home, Papà!"

There was a brief minute of silence, not out of shock- because he had awaited 6 months for this conversation to arise, but because he heard the sadness lacing her usually tonic voice. And in that moment of silence, the anger he suppressed long ago slowly began to resurface.

"We aren't going back there little girl, you know why we left!" He growled out in a deadly voice. One too many people would take his tone as a hint to shut the fuck up, but his kids were an exception.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Yeah because I got jumped in an alleyway by an idiot who had to result in using a steel baton against me while I was drunk!"

Diezel's eyes widened in anger. "Exactly. You were drunk and fucking stoned outta your goddamn mind, which put you in a position where you were unable to protect yourself! That wasn't my clever daughter who would never dare to walk those streets without protecting yourself! You were in that mess because the stupid cunt got embarrassed he was beaten by a girl all cause you did street fighting!" There was an indifferent shift in the atmosphere and Diezel unconsciously began to raise his voice, loud enough for almost everyone in every room to hear.

It didn't matter. It was no secret with his club just how badly his family had been in the aftermath of losing his wife and son.

"My daughter wouldn't willingly participate in fighting without motive, you did street fighting Tara, all to relish in the physical pain instead of grieving! You know how fucking dangerous that is? Multiple opponents and no fucking rules! You're fucking lucky there were no weapons involved!" Diezel inhaled a sharp, raged breath, never once stopping his rant because he needed his daughter to know the effects her actions had on others.

He'd tried getting passed it, but the mere thought of her falling back in those same patterns tore his heart out of his chest. The constant worry overwhelmed him everyday, knowing, something so small- so little- could set her back.

Yeah JT was the one who initiated his transfer from Belfast to Charming because there was no one else JT trusted better as his Sgt. At Arms than his first nine brother, but his daughter pushed his ass into gear.

It had taken all but 2 years to complete the transfer since he was President which made it complicated, but when he noticed his daughter's emotionless eyes when she addressed someone, or the bruises on her face- when insisting they were from a fight with a lippy girl who never learnt to shut her mouth- becoming more frequent, he knew the transfer needed to happen ASAP.

"When I forgot to knock on your door and opened it to see the bruises you sported on your ribs…" Diezel shook his head, willing to do anything to get rid of such an image that urged his veins to kill the fucker who bore her with them. "I didn't know what to think!"

Steering his point in a different direction, though it all led to the same justification, Diezel gritted his teeth. "My little girl who had dreams, big fucking dreams, of becoming one of the best doctors in the country, wouldn't drink booze till she blacked out! Whether it was intentional or not, Tara, it still happened!" Diezel quipped when she opened her mouth to explain further to ease her embarrassment and rid his eyes of the disappointment, one swift look had her mouth closing tightly.

"The daughter I raised drank for pure happiness and smoked pot for a good buzz. I let you grow that shit because I felt better knowing your intake! " He shook his head, a defeated chuckle escaping his lips at how little he knew of his daughter's mental welfare.

His brain began to hurt as he thought; I had no fucking idea you were smoking morning, afternoon and night. What kinda father am I? I'm an outlaw and ain't immune to side effects of a pot smoker so how come I didn't notice my daughter? I never would've guessed my clever baby would do that.

"I didn't expect you to be the same, not after losing a mother and your baby brother…" tears formed a thick line on his brims, yet to be shed.

"Hell, you're still my quiet little know-it-all… you're still the little hell raiser behind that blank exterior... but if we didn't move somewhere else for you to focus on things other than ignoring the missing pieces of our family, I would've been burying another kid…"

The worst feeling was knowing it was his fault. He turned his back on his kids when his wife and son got killed in that house raid. He was so on set on looking for revenge that he failed to see the struggles his kids were going through. And the disappointment he knew his wife would be feeling pained his heart.

His oldest son, Vincent 16 at the time, stepped up when Diezel should've and took care of his siblings even though he was a kid himself.

13 year old Dominik buried his pain much like his sister, denying the loss they were suffering. Giovanni- 12 at the time- and Lorenzo only 11, surprised everyone, considering they were the most impulsive of his kids who held a passion to piss people off and prank their siblings, were the only ones to accept the grief. Tara turned mute, completely shutting everyone out to make the possibility of ever losing someone so close, again, much less painful and time-consuming of wallowing in self pity should she barely know them. It wasn't a shock she only ever opened up to her family but it was a shock when 5 years after their death, she sought for another escape, the pain of accepting the grief too unbearable to handle.

Yet, he wasn't there to console his children in the time of need because he was so hell bent on killing every Fed, every cop that dared to raid their house. It was nobodies fault but his that, Vincent, was now on the path of Diezel's father's direction. One that put him in constant danger, deadlier than the club provided.

He was too late to latch on to his oldest son and steer him the other way but he made damn sure his younger sons never followed suit because there was no coming back from that. And he'd be damned if he let his daughter lose herself to that suicidal state she was running to, purposefully or not.

"And I take full responsibility for that!"

Tara's head jerked up at his sudden declaration and tears filled her eyes. The sight brought a pang to his chest, but oddly, he felt a part of his heart shift at the sudden emotions rising in her once expressionless thoughts. They've never talked about this, he avoided it because the guilt ate at him constantly, yet it seemed talking about it really was what he needed.

What they both needed.

He had high hopes his daughter was still in there. That, deep down, far beyond the demeanor she let up, was the girl he and his wife raised. Maybe she needed this little heart to heart to finally put a stop to her act.

"Papà... I'm so sorry!" She whispered, still fighting the urge to cry.

He nodded his head, inching closer to take her in his arms. He smiled when she never pushed him away like she normally would, instead, she rested her head against his chest, digging her nails into the front of his kutte as he stroked her hair to bring comfort to her- much like when she was a baby and would cry out for her daddy.

"I just…" his eyes closed, anticipating what she was gonna say and this time, he never interrupted her.

"I miss it… I miss the guys, my old friends… I miss my brothers... Charming isn't Belfast, Papà…!" her voice cracked and he heard the restraint of a sob. How long it had been to witness his daughter breaking down, Diezel had no clue. It was unfamiliar seeing his stubborn baby girl finally letting everything in. Yet he knew, believed deep down, this is what she needed.

"I just wanna go home!"

Her tone was one of defeat, despite there being no doubt her overprotective brother's would offer to have her; both father and daughter knew there was no way she'd be back there- with the exception of a holiday.

And for the first time since 1988, Tara Grace Lá Michélle Knowles cried.

She cried for the pain she'd caused her family and possibility she let up of coming close to death 3 times.

She cried because more not than often, she'd be lucky to see her brothers, her friends and her family once a year. Fuck, she even missed the crow eaters and that's saying something since all the emotions they'd ever stirred in her veins was anger.

But painfully so, her tears came out full force when she finally accepted the rift her dead mother and brother caused in her heart.