I disclaim. I own nothing.

AN: First, for anyone reading Once I Was that fic will be updated next week. The plan is to go back to my schedule of updating each fic every other week. As for this fic, it's extremely AU, and it's going to be long. Easily longer than my other SOA fics. It won't be a terribly angsty fic though the Jax/Tara will be a slow burn. And while they will flirt and tease each other, they will also be with other people as well. But this will actually be a lot lighter than Once I Was.

Chapter 1

1992

The room was dark, easily darker than any other room in the house, but that was largely due to the black out shades hanging over the windows filtering out the faint light provided by the quarter moon. His sister was a professional sleeper. His old man would joke that if it was an Olympic sport she'd bring home the gold every time. Everyone found it funny until she slept straight through the neighbors house nearly burning down.

If they were in their old house he'd be able to find his way around, he was use to the dark there, and he knew that room as well as his own. But if they were in their old house he wouldn't be here to begin with.

Still, he found his way to the bed. And by found, he tripped over what he figured were a pair of shoes and fell face first into it.

"Aw, fuck, Ope."

Of course, even in the pitch blackness, his sister knew exactly who crashed into her. "Sorry." He pushed off of her, but since his eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the dark one of his hands dug right into her hip. She cried out in pain and he winced at the sound. "Sorry."

"Jeez, little brother."

Tara Grace Winston was born January 17th 1978, eight months before her brother Harry "Opie" Winston, who came into the world August 5th of the same year. Their mother Mary, whenever people gave her odd looks about her children being born so close together, liked to point out that Opie had come more than six weeks early. They were in the same grade, four months out of the year they were the same age, and because of that people often referred to them as twins. The town they grew up in-Charming-was small enough for people to know that they weren't, still it didn't stop them from saying it.

When they were toddlers they were the same size. Then they hit early childhood and Tara shot by her brother easily. Tara had remained taller for quite awhile. But over the summer, Opie had his first growth spurt. Now he was easily taller than she was. But she was still older and she took great pleasure in reminding him of that.

Very much aware of just how much he out weighed his sister, Opie apologized again. "Sorry."

"It's alright. What's going on?"

Opie stretched out on the bed beside her. There was a time it was much easier for them to lay on a bed together. At the old house she had a double, one that could easily support her and his much larger frame. Now she only had a twin and he wasn't sure which one of them would fall off first. "I'm getting out of here, Tara. I'm going back home."

"This is home now, Opie."

"No it's not. Home is in Charming. Don't you miss the old man, our friends."

"You know I do."

Opie heard the hurt in her voice and could have kicked himself. Whereas he'd been allowed to go back to Charming over the summer break, Tara hadn't. Their mother used the fact that she had no one to stay with as an excuse to keep Tara in Oakland all summer long. Both of them had pointed out they had a father she could stay with, but Mary wasn't trying to hear that. "She had no right to move us here. She knows how important it is for me and Jax to prospect together. And for you to be student body president. None of that's going to happen now."

Shifting onto her side, Tara tucked her hands under her pillow. Her eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness and she could just make out her brother's silhouette. But she didn't have to see him to know the look on his face, the sadness that had been in his eyes since their mother packed them up and moved them away from Charming. Away from home. "You can still prospect. Four years, you'll be eighteen, she can't keep you here then."

Opie knew what his sister said was true. The club wouldn't let him prospect until he was eighteen anyway. But in four years he'd go in a step back. Instead of being a hang around for the next four years, he'd be going back essentially a stranger. "What about you? What are the odds you could be class president at a new school?"

My brother, Tara thought as her lips curled in a sleepy smile, always concerned about me. She'd swear her brother was the most selfless person in the world. It was why she loved him so much, why she loved him best. "We'd be starting a new school anyway."

High school, Opie thought. He hadn't been looking forward to it, not the way Jax and Tara had. Tara loved school, fuck if he knew why. And Jax, he'd just been looking forward to the high school girls. "Yeah, but that would have been with people we've known our whole lives. We don't know the kids here. Kids in Charming would have made you class president, easy. Oakland isn't Charming."

"Ope." Tara hated the sadness she heard in his voice. "We should just try to make the best of this."

Opie hated how resigned she sounded. "I'm going back, Tara. Tonight."

Tara was quiet for a long while, so long in fact Opie was afraid she's gone back to sleep. But then she sighed and when she spoke it was as she was sitting up in the bed. "Give me a few seconds to get dressed, I'll come with you.'

Though he knew she couldn't see it, Opie smiled. When it mattered, even when it didn't, he could always count on his sister.

Tara felt the rumble of the bikes long before she saw the first flicker of a headlight. Opie's head came up, much like hers, his eyes were riveted to the road ahead of them. She had the fleeting thought that they both felt the rumble in their bones. If she said it to Opie he wouldn't laugh, wouldn't think she were being silly. He'd simply tell her they had motor oil in their blood.

The story their father liked to tell was that his kids were both born on the back of his bike. Opie liked to believe it, Tara appreciated the story but knew her mother well enough to know she didn't climb on the back of their father's bike while she was in labor.

"I told you not to leave a note." Only Tara, Opie thought as he waited for headlights to appear, would leave a note. They were running away, leaving their mother to go back home to their father, and she leaves a fucking note telling there mother where they were going. He knew he should have stopped her but she was all "Mom's going to wake up and be worried and what if she calls the police" and she probably would have gone on if he didn't stop her by telling her to just write the damn note.

"I told you so? Really?" She knew he was going to say it, she was hoping to avoid it, but she knew he was going to say it. Just like he was going to point out how bad an idea it had been to take the car in three, two…

"Taking the car was a mistake too." Opie mumbled, heart racing as the first two headlights came into view. It was his old man and John Teller, he just knew it. His dad was going to shit over him dragging Tara out this time of night. Or…well…morning. "But oh no, Princess Tara refuses to walk anywhere."

"This isn't helping, Ope." She needed to think, needed a little time to come up with a way to get them out of this. "You know if Dad found out we were hitchhiking he'd kill you." Maybe that wasn't helpful either, but she had to point out how piss poor his idea had been.

The bikes came into view, it looked like the whole fucking club had come out. Opie sank down in the passenger seat, though he knew that wasn't going to protect him. All the bikes rode pass them but he didn't have to look to know they were only turning around. Didn't have to say anything to Tara to have her pulling the car over.

They knew their father's bike, even with the sidecar attached, and watched with a strange mixture of panic and longing as he pulled around to the front of the car along with his best friend John Teller. He'd yell at them, would not pull any punches in letting them know just how stupid their behavior was. And maybe he'd cuff Opie around the ears. But if they were lucky, if he was in the right mood, they'd be going back home with him. They'd wake up in Charming and their time in Oakland would be a three month side trip.

John Teller got to the car first, bracing an arm on the hood so he could lean down in the passenger side window. "You know what I know," He mumbled softly. "Green Eyes should work up the tears."

But Tara was already throwing open the car door, running the short distance to their father, and all but flinging herself at his chest. Opie thought he could see their father melt and once again cursed his sister for using the fact that she was born a girl to get out of trouble with the old man. That he hadn't seen her since Mary packed them up and moved to Oakland was really going to have Piney going soft on her.

Missing her father as much as she had, Tara was unable to stop herself from burrowing into his chest. He wouldn't say it, but she knew how much he missed her by the way he allowed it. She could smell weed, beer, and the overly cloying perfume of the croweater he likely spent the night with. Normally the perfume would have turned her stomach, would have had her pushing away from him. But it had been months since she'd seen him, so she lifted up onto her toes until she could bury her nose in his neck and inhale the scent of motor oil and Old Spice. Her father was there in those scents.

"You think you're too old to take over my knee little girl." Piney set her back by her shoulders. His eyes scanned her face and he could have sworn she looked more a woman than when she left him. And he hated it, hated every day that passed that had her getting a little bit older. Mary's call had scared him shitless, his mind filling with images of his kids mangled on the side of the road somewhere. Seeing them now, alive and safe had that fear turning into rage. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I wanted to come home." Tara followed JT's advice and allowed the first hints of moisture to come into her eyes. "Opie was allowed to come home and see everyone. I just wanted to see you before school started."

Piney very sincerely doubted that. Mary had raised Tara to adhere the rules, to behave well and always do as she was told. She did her best to keep Tara away from the club and the club mentality. But she hadn't been able to do anything with the protective streak that ran through Tara in regards to her brother. His kids would take a bullet for each other, it was second nature to them.

Opie had gotten out of the car, he'd grown some over the summer but he hadn't yet figured out how to carry the extra height and so his body was kind of turned in on itself. Piney knew this little caper was all him. Running away had been the boy's idea and he drafted the girl into it, he knew them too well to think it could have gone any other way.

"Get over here," His voice was clear as he called his son over. "Wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking bringing your sister out this time of night?"

"Dad I told you-" But Tara's argument was cut off with one sharp look from their father.

"We wanted to come home." Opie kept his head up, looking his father straight in the eye in the hazy light provided by the moon finally giving way to the sun. "Tara was going to stay, but I made her come with me."

"Did you want to get yourselves killed while you were at it?"

"It was my idea to take the car." Tara spoke up, not at all having heeded the silent warning her father sent her. "That wasn't Opie, that was me, I took the keys."

Piney sighed, because he could hear the truth of that in her voice. He'd been sleep barely an hour when he got Mary's frantic call. His head was heavy and fuzzy with booze and pot. His kids were too fucking smart to deal with at less than full capacity. "Give me the keys, you're not driving back."

"Then how-" Opie began before following his father's gaze to the side car he had attached to his bike. His face paled, he knew that was for him. If Jax heard about this he'd never live it down. "Fuck."

Piney reached out to slap Opie over the back of the head. "Watch your damn mouth boy." The rest of the club brought their bikes around, preparing to ride back to Charming. "Tara you ride with Clay."

"Can I ride with Tig?" Tara asked even as she was already throwing her leg over the back of Tig's bike.

The girl, Piney thought with a heavy sigh, was going to be the death of him. He gave Tig a nod that had him removing his helmet and handing it back to Tara. Handing his own helmet to Opie, who was sulking in the sidecar, he started his bike. He'd leave Mary's car where it was for a few hours before getting someone from the garage to pick it up and tow it back to her. That way he could get a few hours sleep before dealing with the shit storm he knew she'd blow into town with.

Mary Winston started yelling the second the car door slammed at her back. Her children were willing to bet money that she started yelling the second she got in the car back in Oakland. Currently they were sitting side by side on the couch looking extremely contrite and hoping that just this once their mother would accept their apology and move on. The odds were slim, actually closer to none, but they had hope all the same. Piney had been up for only the last half-hour. They were already on the couch when he came out of his bedroom, but he didn't say one word to them as he went straight to the kitchen to prepare for his day with a shot of Tequila. Belatedly Opie and Tara wondered why they hadn't thought of that themselves.

Now at the sound of Mary's ranting, Piney pushed himself out of the recliner, shot his children a look to let them know he'd pay them back for this, and made his way to the door. Opening it just in time for Mary to march through without having to pause her diatribe to knock.

"…And I should drag both your asses back to Oakland by your hair. Neither of you have permit or license the first, haven't so much as plopped your asses down in a Driver's Ed course, yet you thought it was a good idea to drive from Oakland to Charming. You could have been killed! You could have killed someone else. The two of you pull something like this again so help me God…" The threat was left hanging, but Opie and Tara knew she'd make good on it. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"We wanted to come home." Tara began. "We tried telling you that but you wouldn't listen. You never listen."

"I don't listen." Mary balked, unable to believe that after the stunt they pulled they'd try to turn this around on her. "Well if you thought it was bad before, that I didn't listen, that I was up your ass about school and everything else, you're in for it now. After this little caper, you won't be able to take a piss without my permission."

Tara opened her mouth to argue, to justify their behavior, to fight their mother on her ridiculous stance. There was a chance their mother would listen. There was also a chance Tara would have made things worse. This time they wouldn't know because Opie spoke before Tara could get a word out.

"We're not going back to Oakland." The words broke no argument. Opie didn't argue. When pushed Tara could and would argue, she'd get so worked up she could argue enough for both of them. But Opie didn't. He rarely had to.

Now it was Mary's turn to open her mouth only to be cut off by Piney before she could make a sound. Taking his estranged wife by the arm he lead her to the kitchen, leaving his children sitting together on the couch. As he walked away he notice the look they shared. He didn't try to interpret it, knew they could communicate a thousand things in just a look.

Tara wanted to walk off the energy their mother brought into the house. Wanted to bolt from the couch, run away until the threat of being moved away was over. Opie sat still and quiet next to her. Scooting closer to him she lay her head on his shoulder. It wasn't instantaneous, but she began to feel the restless energy ebb.

"Goddamn it woman you know them as well as I do…" Piney's voice was harsh, it was clear his patience had snapped. "…it won't work. You'll just make it worse….Fine. Fine you tell them and deal with the shit that's going to cause."

No sooner did Piney stop speaking did Mary march back into the room. Piney hung back in the kitchen entryway, a bottle of tequila hanging between his fingers.

"You're coming with me." Mary gave her children a hard look.

"I told you-"
"Not you." Mary cut her son off, something like hurt flashing in her eyes before she turned steely eyes onto her daughter. "You. You're coming back to Oakland, you're going to school there. You'll see your father and brother on weekends."

"What?"

"No."

Opie and Tara jumped to their feet, their objections blending together. The weekends Opie came back to Charming were the longest they'd ever been apart. It hadn't been ideal then but they dealt with it. This was worse and unacceptable.

"I'm not going back without Ope." Which as far as Tara was concerned meant she wasn't going back. "We didn't do anything wrong." Tears came to her eyes now, the hurt of her family splitting up seizing her. "Why are you doing this to us?"

"I'm trying to give you something better." Mary argued. Despite what her children might think she was not immune to their pain. "This isn't a punishment."

"It feels like one." Opie muttered. If Tara went back to Oakland who'd look out for her there? Who'd take care of her? He knew what his mother was trying to do. She was trying to make him choose between the club and his sister. If he chose Tara his father would think he was weak and not cut out to be SAMCRO. If he chose the club Tara would think he didn't love her.

"You take me back and I'll run again." Tara threatened. "I won't leave a note." Her eyes, accusing and hurt as they looked at their father, were filled with tears. "And I won't come back here. I'll just go, like Gemma did."

And it was exactly that thought that gripped Mary with fear. She did not want her daughter to have the life she and Gemma did. She didn't want her to get tangled up that way. JT had saved Gemma and Piney have save her, now look where it got them. Her girl deserved different. Both her children did. They were smart kids, too smart to be mixed up in SAMCRO, to allow themselves to be dragged down that way. She tried with Opie, tried to pull him away, but the club had a hook in him that went deep. She thought there was still a chance for Tara.

"Make another threat like that young lady and I'll lock you in that room until you're thirty-five. You're not running away. You're not Gemma." Piney bit the name off. The anger that flashed in his eyes told everyone he was very much capable of keeping his daughter locked up if it came to that.

Mary wasn't sure what had Gemma fleeing home, but the words Piney spoke sounded very much like the ones that had her climbing out of her bedroom window never to return. "We'll stay." She spoke the words quickly, cutting off the argument that was just gearing up between her children and their father.
The club had it's hooks in Opie, but he and Tara were a unit. Maybe, Mary thought, just maybe all was not lost. It was possible his sister held enough sway over him to keep him from sinking into the club. As she knew Opie was so protective of his sister he'd never let her get involved with something that could hurt her. With any luck keeping her children together, even if it was in Charming, would save them both.

"You're back early." Gazing at her husband through the haze of smoke, Mary flicked away the cigarette she lead everyone to believe she no longer smoked. "Forget something?" It was the only reason she could think for him to be back before dawn. Truth was she hadn't expected him back for several days. That's how it worked with them before she took the kids and left for Oakland. Mary didn't see why it would be any different now.

Stopping half-way between his bike and the front door, Piney very much considered turning to go. Wondering why he even chose to come back and put up with this shit, he did his best to appear casual as he pulled out his cigarettes and lighter. The front door was open at Mary's back so that the light from inside the house filtered out to be caught in the reflection of his lighter.

After bringing the flame to the end of his cigarette, he flicked the Zippo closed but instead of putting it away found himself flipping it over to read the simple engraving on the bottom: Pop. The Lighter had been a birthday gift from Opie and Tara. He wasn't an overly sentimental man, but he carried it with him everyday. And it was only now, in the wake of them stealing their mother's car and driving without a license that he wondered just how they paid for a solid gold lighter. "Last I checked it was still my house."

Mary nodded, choosing to look down at her hands instead of into the face so much like her son's. When Opie was born, it made her smile, that resemblance. Now, when the similarities between father and son ran bone deep, it scared her. Opie idolized his father. And because of that, he wanted to be a part of SAMCRO.

Everyday she wondered-regretted-not taking her kids away sooner. If she packed up the kids and left when they were small, before the club got into her boy's system, she wouldn't know the gnawing fear in her gut. "Still your house." She agreed after awhile. "And don't worry, we'll be out of it soon enough."

Piney's eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you talking about? The kids told you they aren't leaving." The dread he felt surprised him. When Mary took the kids and left, he didn't fight her. She was their mother and he thought she knew what was best. It wasn't until they were gone, until the first morning he woke without the sounds of his kids shouting at one another, that he realized he hadn't wanted them to go. He missed them, actively missed them, and he hadn't been prepared for that. And now that they were back, he knew he couldn't let Mary take them again.

"Not Charming." The named dripped like poison from her lips. "But we need a place. I talked to Catherine Hale about finding something for me to rent. She had a couple listings I can take a look at tomorrow."

Something like relief rushed through him, even as he decided he wouldn't let her take the kids even a few blocks away from him. "You already uprooted them once. You gotta pack up that place in Oakland. No point carting it back here just to cart it someplace else. This is there home, what they want, just stay."

"No. Tara's already torn up about the split. Me moving back in here may give her the wrong idea. Break her heart all over again when she realizes we're not getting back together."

"That's your problem, Mary, you treat them like their idiots. They're smart. Smarter than any two kids of ours have the right to be." It had surprised him. He'd never set foot in a high school and Mary dropped out halfway through. He wasn't a stupid man, but the smarts he had didn't come from a book. And when he met Mary he found a kindred spirit there. But Tara and Opie, they were smart. Fucking scary smart. He was proud of them, even if he couldn't explain where they got it from. "We explain to her what's going on, she'll get it. She'll understand."

"They can't have her, Piney."

It was her tone, just as much as what she said that caught him off guard. He knew what she was talking about. But he couldn't say he knew where it came from. "What?"

"They got our boy. I don't think there's anything I can do to keep Ope out of the club, out of that life. But I'm trusting you to take care of him, to keep him safe. Alive." Mary's head came up with that. The look in her eye letting Piney know if he didn't protect Opie, club or no, he wouldn't live to regret it. "They got our boy. They can't have our girl. Promise you won't let them have her."

This moment…there was a significance to this moment that he wouldn't be aware of for years to come. He felt the weight of Mary's words even as he brushed them off. The girl was safe. "She's a girl. Club has no use for her."

Mary gave a bitter laugh at that. "She's a pretty girl, Piney. One day soon she's going to be a beautiful woman. Telling me the club has no use for one of those?"

Something tightened in his stomach. He always did his best to see his kids as what they were, didn't like looking too far ahead. But Mary's words had him seeing them as they would be: his big, quiet burly son and his slight, whip-smart daughter. He could see the way the club had swallowed up his best friend, felt him slipping away each day. He'd seen what the life had done to Mary and Gemma. He didn't want to see what happened to his best friend, to his wife, happen to his kids. So when he looked at Mary, the promise he was making to her he was making to himself as well. "I'll keep them safe."