I found out that I couldn't give up Dru just yet. I came to the conclusion that I had to do an epilogue in her point of view, so you could know just how she feels about the entire situation.
These stories that I have planned will all be a part of my 'Fallon Series'.
Enjoy!
Remember-be waiting on the sequel to 'Fallon: A Story of the Legacy' once the new season starts on FX this coming year.
Fallon: My Side of the Line
It wasn't as if I didn't know what I had done. I wasn't ignoring it either. They say ignorance is bliss. To me, it's just one more excuse that someone can use to get away with something. I wasn't using anything. I have never been one to deny my faults. I am a murderer after all. I have a long list of what I am—a loyal daughter, a devoted friend, a pitiless killer, an intelligent operator, a deadly weapon… The list can go on. I'm proud of a few of my labels. The others, not so much. The others…I was forced to become.
When I saw Gemma sitting in the floor struggling to control the betrayal that she felt, I was inclined to help. It's what I had been taught to do. 'Once a Reaper, always a Reaper,' was what my dad said all the time. You only get one family in your life and you can't choose them. I'm not sure, even now, if I would change them. I am loyal to a fault, and in turn, so are they. SAMCRO is a family and you don't turn your back on family.
Nevertheless, it makes me wonder why Gemma didn't pick up any of Jax's phone calls? This could have all been avoided. Coming across that gruesome murder scene in Jax's kitchen…as much as it was shocking and repugnant, it was also a relief; a welcome relief. Tara needed to die. I don't think I was the only one to see it. She was a liability. She was never going to accept the club. She needed to if she wanted to continue being Jax's old lady. The only thing that bitch could do was judge.
Tara had no right to judge. As much as she preached that she felt Jax's pain and self-loathing, she really didn't have any concept of what it meant. I did. Because I felt the same hatred and agony every day. It's a grim outlook that I have on life. Then again, being a part of the IRA against your will tends to change things. It changes you personally. It changes your soul.
Once upon a time ago, when I knew that the club needed to 'dispose' of a certain someone, it bothered me. I didn't exactly keep my feelings about it a secret either. I proudly told them that I didn't agree with taking human life. No one had the right to do that except for God himself. Humans shouldn't choose how and when to end another's life. And now, it's all I do. I've been paid handsomely for it too.
Galen O'Shay had made certain that I would become a killer. He hadn't given me a choice. He took my freewill from me when he ripped my virginity from my body. Humans are capable of such cruelty and we don't even have to have a reason to do it; or at least a good reason. Galen's reason was greed and pride. It had been such sweet revenge to stand over his dead body. I'm confident that he's burning in hell for the rest of eternity. It's what he deserves.
All my life I have walked the thin line between good and bad. I grew up an outlaw. There was nothing else I really knew. I earned money illegally just like the club did. I did have boundaries I wouldn't cross though. It wasn't until later that I found that I could do without boundaries. I became a person who worked outside of the system all in the name of the IRA. It was the most dreadful time in my life. I did things I'm not proud of, that I still have nightmares about. Jax still doesn't know everything, and I want to keep it that way. After all, the truth is why I can't look at myself in a mirror. The reflection staring back repulses me.
As I'm sitting in the back of this police car, I am reminded that it'll only get worse. I'm convinced that as much as Jax had confessed that he had loved me all along, he is not going to take too kindly to me covering up the fact that his mother killed Tara. Gemma deserved my allegiance. She had raised me after my own mother had abandoned me. Gemma may have helped Clay kill J.T., but she'd had no part in Connor Fallon's murder. The only hands that were dirty in that were Clay Morrow's. That and many other reasons was why he was dead.
Not to say that I'm a hypocrite. My hands are dirty too. So many lives had been in these hands; I had lost count. I'm surprised I hadn't choked on the blood thus far. Now I could add Roosevelt's blood on my hands. The only thing I had been thinking at the time was the need to protect Gemma. But what would Jax do if he ever found out? I shouldn't have volunteered myself to go find Gemma. I could have avoided the anxiety that I feel now.
When was the last time I felt like this? When was the last time that I felt angst or fear? It wasn't because of what I did. It was because I can finally, at long last, get what I want, and now it can be taken away because I what I did; what I chose to do. It broke my heart to know that there's a possibility that I chose wrong; that I had chosen the wrong side. It didn't matter how much I argued that I was forever on Jax's side. The only thing he would see would be the betrayal.
I have chosen to spend fifteen to thirty years of my life in prison on the club's behalf. I was faithful to something bigger than myself. I was in love with the President. I didn't want to see Jax pay for the mistakes. There were too many people who depended on him. Abel and Thomas needed him. That was more important than my happiness, which is why I turned myself in as the gun distributor. It had been the only way to save what was left of the club, and save my soul mate's life. Jax wouldn't have lasted in prison by himself. I can. There are too many people protecting me; too many contacts who still needed my services and expertise.
But what had I really done? I wasn't a fucking martyr! I didn't regret giving up my freedom to protect Jax and the club, to make sure that they survived. Granted, protecting Gemma was impulse. I hadn't really thought that one out. Hopefully, in the end, it would work itself out. Then again, it might not even matter. I wasn't getting out for a long time. The justice system is going to hang me. It'll be a blow to my ego if they don't. However, she still had some tricks up her sleeve; favors to be called in.
After all, I wasn't a goddamn professional for nothing. The IRA had made my body into a deadly weapon. It had been up to me to make sure that my services were always in need. I smirked. I had always covered my tracks.