From Father to Son

I'd like to start by saying it's the first time in a long time that I do some creative writing so, I might need to get used to the particular style again. Plus, English is not my first tongue nor my second for that matter so any grammar/spelling/vocabulary errors are my own and solely my own. Please be kind to review me those mistakes so I can fix them. If you'd like to beta me, MP me, please, it'd be appreciated.

I love the Sons of Anarchy show for the family dynamic that reminds me of my own and also for all the guns and violence - what can I say. Give me a gun and you will likely make me the happiest girl in the world. My fanfiction as a work of creation reflects only what I interpret from the show and doesn't not intend to reflect what Kut Setter thinks of the show. Based on that, all the characters you may recognize from the show are the property of Kut Setter and FX.

As I don't really know my ability to update this story, I've chosen to make a serie of one-shots that are all related to one and an other. So if I stop the story in the middle, you won't get frustrated. And frankly it's convenient to me. Also, I'm not good at writing sex stories so I clearly doubt you will find any in it BUT you will find a lot of cursing since I can't help myself but swear in real life.

This advertisement is for the whole story and won't be rewrite again.

A father carries pictures where his money used to be

Anonymous

He didn't want the kid in the first place, that's what he kept repeating himself. He was no fit for a kid, the mother either. And he didn't want the kid to die before he was a week old and it was more likely if the kid was going in to his care. Fuck, he was rambling and he didn't want to ramble either, it makes him look old and why does he feel like he is 50 years old ? He is only twenty something years old, he was in a good shape, and he was carrying a gun around, and he was shooting people so damn, taking care of a kid shouldn't be that difficult, right ?

He was petrified. Fucking petrified. I'm pregnant, she said. You knock me up, y'hear, ya hear. Fucking shouting. Fucking woman. He didn't want a kid, he wanted to get laid, to get fuck in the head to forget that the love of his life bailed on him and ran away, as fast as she could. What a fucking bitch. Women are bitches, he decided. Bitches that can get pregnant, obviously. Bitches that can twist you head. Bitches that are wrapped around your little finger. If he was less addict to sex, if he was less addict to get fucked up, if he was less of a bad boy and more of a straight one - with the car and the wife and the house (well he had a house) and the 2.5 kids and the 9-5 job and the dog (well he had a dog - it was just a prospect) -, maybe, he'd have been excited to expect a little baby.

A little baby. A human being. Some one to take care of, to nurture, to shape, to love, to educate, to care for, to protect, to die, some one so dependent on you that makes you proudly saying 'See the kid over there, the one that is doing the strike ? He is mine.' Entirely. Mine.

Oh, fuck.

But the kid was there. As fucked up as he had expected. Even a little bit more. And the kid was breathing, not on his own but it was just a matter of time. And the kid was doing those weird movements with his legs as saying I'm here, look at me, dumb fuck, I'm here and you are going to grow a pair and take care of me because the whore you knocked up is no good and you are going to take care of me because it's your job, it's your fucking responsibility. And he wanted to answer his kid that yeah, daddy is here and daddy is going to make everything okay and daddy is going to grow a pair and take care of you and daddy is going to die for you and go to hell and back just to see your smile.

He doesn't say all he wants to say to his son. His tongue is stuck. His brain doesn't work properly obviously because if it was, well, he supposed, he should have been able to talk. He is as fucked as his kid. Truth is he doesn't know what he is doing, he doesn't know how to love a child, a baby, an infant. But he is willing to try. And he knows that he will kill anyone that tries to endanger his child. Speaking of, a vague of fury comes through his veins and he needs to kill the motherfucker that endangered his kid in such way. He needs to show the world that anyone that tries to lay a finger on his kid signs his death warrant by doing so. That's why he left.

Days later when he comes to visit his child, he feels overwhelmed. He doesn't have a crib, he doesn't have a pacifier and God only knows that he doesn't know how to change his child. He wants to cry because he sees his child, he sees how much he fights for his life and how much he wants to be alive. Sometimes he feels like his child looks straight in the eyes and is saying I'm not giving up just for you, Dad because I know how much it cost you to burry Uncle Thomas and how much it cost you to see Clay as the President of the Club Grand father founded. And when he feels that his child looks straight at him, he is proud and it gives him strength to keep going in life.

He goes to shop for groceries. Abel is running around like a mad man. Grinning from ear to ear. Busy being an air plane for the day. He watches when his kid runs and runs and runs and says 'Floooooow' to make a plane. He watches his kid busy in his world, unaware of what goes on around him with fat ladies buying so much food that it could feed an entire country somewhere in Africa or teens trying to make up new tricks to buy beers they know they will dislike but just to be cool or the other kids around him throwing a tantrum. No his kid, his baby, his Abel is busy being an airplane. He watches with awe his kid running. And when his baby goes in an other alley, it's not Abel's heart that nearly stops in fear, it's his. And when his baby falls because he bumped into one of the fat cows that seem to live in grocery shop, it's not Abel's heart that is thrown apart but it's his. And when he sees his kid playing hide and seek in the middle of the grocery store and saying 'bye-bye, daddy', he wants to shout at him that no, Daddy is not going anywhere and please Abel stay with Daddy a lit bit more because without you, Daddy is lost and Daddy feels like he is dying. But he just answers back to his grinning kid that is busy being an airplane in the middle of an alley of a grocery store 'Bye-bye, Abel'. And he laughs heartily when he sees Abel laughing.

He grabs his kid and goes to the cash register. His kid who is his spitting image. And when he pulls out his wallet, he is greeted by the picture of Abel when he was 6 months. He has to dig around to find cash. But he doesn't care. He has his kid in his arms and he is healthy and happy and he is his fighter and he is his oldest. When Jackson Teller is with his kid, he feels invincible. He feels like he can move mountains. He can play air guitar and he can sing. He can get inked without having to bite his lips to blood. He doesn't feel the pain, the fear, the loneliness, he is not empty anymore - he is full of love for his children. The reason why he is still alive.

It's cold in my part of my world, my wifi is freezing and I'm too much of a lazy ass to get out of my bed to make hot chocolate to every one. I should probably call it a night and go to bed at 7 pm but tomorrow, I've an exam so I'm basically screwed since I know NOTHING about American law and the American Constitution. And I'm craving for a cigarette. See you soon hopefully (if I don't freeze totally).