The Art of War
AN: Finally, the S7 AU in Tara's POV that I planned to write years ago…
I've said it before, and I'll say it again – the storyline that Sutter gave Tara in S6 was complete bullshit. No way that the brilliant character he created would make such poor decisions regardless of her desperation, nor would she ever let some drunken hag take her down. There was absolutely nothing "organic" about the storytelling in that season. So this is my way of exorcising the horror and disgust I felt at the demise of Jax and Tara.
That said, please forgive any details that I get wrong when referring to what happened during S6; I skipped most of it because it sucked (IMO) and refuse to re-watch. Apologies if I offend anyone who loved S6 and S7 (which I boycotted), but that's my opinion and the reason I started writing SOA fanfiction.
Now jumping off my soapbox and on to the story…If you've read anything I've written, you may have noticed that I love to reference both music and literature as I find inspiration and motivation in both. For this story, that doesn't change, but I'm trying something a little different - hopefully I don't fall on my face :)
For those not familiar, "The Art of War" is an ancient Chinese military treatise that has guided many of history's brilliant military strategists; hundreds of years later, it's still relevant - even to the battles regular people wage in everyday life. Like Tara.
But this story isn't just about Tara fighting Jax for their sons' future; she's also fighting against herself and the lure of the man who will always be a big part of her. For that, I've brought in a song from my favorite band of all time, U2. "A Song for Someone" played in my head as I worked through the story outline; it's the romantic, sentimental contrast to the cold, blunt reality of fighting the man she loves.
All the chapter titles are based on lyrics from that song to make sure I don't stray too far from my outline (which will still probably happen). The Prologue is short but the other chapters will be longer. Hope you enjoy reading it (although I warn you that it will be a bit angsty throughout because that's how I roll).
Despite my earlier rant, I am thankful that Sutter had the brilliant mind to create Tara, Jax and the SOA mythology. I own nothing except my imagination.
Prologue
A wistful pout twists her lips as she watches the pack of rowdy boys racing around, shrieking at the top of their lungs like hooligans (her Grandma's favorite word) - how she wishes she could be playing with them right now. And normally she'd be running around with them - the only girl the boys let join their crazy little club, the only girl who'd put up with their shit (her Daddy's favorite word).
But not today. Instead she stays away from all the other kids during recess, lying on her belly on the soft grass to read the pair of Madeline books that her Mommy bought for her when they were at the Goodwill thrift shop yesterday. Usually she loves the Madeline books - although, having learned to read before kindergarten started, she loves any book she can get. But today it's been hard to read…it's been hard to do anything because, after last night, every part of her hurts.
It'd been an accident - she was hungry, not getting enough to eat at dinner because Mommy burned the food again. All she'd wanted was the milk inside the refrigerator to put in her cereal, she hadn't meant to spill Daddy's beer.
He'd come running into the kitchen at the sound of the bottles crashing to the floor, then started yelling at the sight of all the broken glass and the sticky brown liquid pooling at her feet. Clutching the milk carton, she just stood there - too scared to say or do anything; he'd slapped her when she spilled orange juice at breakfast this morning, but this was worse…way, way worse. Daddy loves his beer, and she'd broken all of it.
She'd propped herself up on her elbows to read the book, but her arms are getting tired so she rolls to her side and immediately winces when the ground touches one of the really sore ouchies on her back. She's been spanked before - hundreds of times - but Daddy had been really, really mad last night. He'd hit her over and over with his belt until Mommy finally made him stop.
Biting her lip as her eyes water, she rolls on to her belly again. She may have bawled like a baby last night, but she won't let anyone see her cry today - not even when it hurt so much to sit still in her chair after Mrs. Spencer, her teacher, had snapped at her to stop squirming so much.
Maybe when she gets home from school, she'll sneak one of Mommy's pills; Mommy always says when "life sucks" the pills make her feel better. Well "life sucks" when she can't play with her friends or read her books or even sit still in her chair at school because Daddy hates her.
"Hi Tara. Whatcha reading?"
She looks up and can't help but smile as Jackson plops down on the ground next to her. If she had a best friend, it would be him. For as long as she could remember, he's always been so nice to her - always been the one to include her when he and his friends played during school recess, at the park or at his friend (and her next-door neighbor) Opie's house. And last month, when Curt Suter had teased her for the hole in her sweater, Jackson had knocked him to the ground and threatened to "beat the shit out of him." Mrs. Spencer called Jackson's Mommy then gave him a time out in the corner for fighting and saying bad words, but Curt never made fun of her again.
Scrambling to sit up, Tara ignores the twinge of pain shooting across her back. Somehow it doesn't hurt so much right now - nothing feels bad when Jackson's around; being with her friend - with his blond hair and bright blue eyes - feels like warm sunshine. "My Mommy bought me some Madeline books. I've almost read them all."
"Wow, that's really stupid. Madeline books are for dumb girls." Suddenly, Tara notices Jackson's buddies standing beside him - including Kyle, who's never nice to anyone. She thinks about kicking him, but her legs hurt too.
Jackson's blue eyes narrow as he turns his head to glare at his friend. "Shut up, butthead! Tara's not dumb. She's the smartest kid in school."
"She's a girrrl…" Lowell chimes in. "Jackson's girrll…"
Opie smacks him across the head. "Stop it. He's scared enough…"
Scowling, Jackson turns on his best friend. "I'm not scared! You guys really need to shut up so I can do this."
Tara blinks in confusion. Both Jackson and Mrs. Spencer keep telling her how smart she is, but maybe she isn't so smart after all because none of this is making any sense to her. She raises a brow (something her Mommy does all the time to ask a question without saying a word) at the boy who's now staring at her so hard that she worries that he can see where her Daddy had smacked her in the face last night.
Her fears turn to mush, as does the rest of her when he grabs her face in his hands and plants a long hard kiss on her lips. Through the ringing in her ears and the pounding in her brain, she can hear the other boys hooting and whistling; before she can calm the pounding in her heart, Jackson leaps up and dashes off as if a bunch of vampire zombies are chasing after him.
Many years later Tara would discover that, until that fateful day, Jax had never kissed a girl before - pressured by his friends (who'd all claimed to have kissed girls before), he'd pounced on her. She also learned that he wouldn't even consider kissing anyone else but her. As if there was anyone else for either of them.
"You're Jackson's girrrlllfriend…He luuuvs yoooo."
A wide, radiant smile slowly spreads across her face…in an instant, all the pain - from the welts on her back, from the fear that her Mommy and Daddy don't love her - melt away. As long as her beautiful blond boy is around, she's happy. Jackson Teller is her sunshine, and Tara loves him.