Mia parked her bike in one of the few remaining spaces at Teller-Morrow. As she cut the engine, her gaze traveled to the overflowing clubhouse. She'd never seen it so busy without everyone drunk as fuck, naked whores running about and at least 5 or 6 people already going at it in the corners. Or on the picnic tables. Or the pool table.
The somber silence was deafening.
It felt so weird being back in good ol' Charming, even weirder being here. She could count on one hand the amount of times she'd been back here since she moved away after Op had been arrested. She'd blamed the club, and they all knew it. She'd tried to stay, to be there for Donna, but too Mia it quickly became apparent that her rage wasn't good for anyone. They'd all tried to explain, to convince her to stay. But she had been too young, too naive and too fucking angry to actually handle her shit and make any kind of sensible decision.
Mia sighed and shook her head, burying this shit for another time. She couldn't show any weakness. Not here. Not after everything. She climbed off her bike, wiped her face of any and all emotion and headed for her big brothers wake.
The first thing Mia noticed, as she walked through the door, was Clay. Sitting by the bar looking nothing like the man she had known in her teens. His trade mark cigar replaced by O2, his body slouched as if in defeat. Had it been anyone else, she might have felt pity. But not only did this man not deserve even a hint of it, Mia knew him well enough to know he was probably not even half as bad as he was making himself out to be. He might be proud, but no way was he above playing the victim.
Trying to distract herself before she stirred shit up, she looked around. Her gaze landed on the casket placed on the table in Church. Her heart seemed to freeze in her chest. Sure, she knew her brother was dead. But knowing and seeing were two completely different things. The metal casket was a beautiful black and silver, the lid off to the side. Her brother looked peaceful, like he was sleeping. He was surrounded by bits and bobs people had placed inside the casket, Treasures. Things he'd loved in life that would accompany him to the next.
She snorted at herself. Such ceremonies were for the living. But the gesture meant more than she could admit, even to herself. It showed that her brother had been loved, respected.
Mia took a few steps forward when the blond standing beside her brothers casket lifted his head. Mia's eyes met Jax's. Her brother's best friend, and recently promoted to club president. The violent cascade of emotions running through Mia made her want to look away. She felt too exposed. No one in the world knew her as well as this man and the brothers he commanded. But she held her ground, didn't even blink as she held his stare.
"Mia?" he almost whispered, the shock on his face evident.
Mia didn't even try to reply. She knew herself well enough that, in this emotional state, every word that left her mouth would be hateful and accusatory. He left her brothers side and approached her slowly. Jax opened his mouth to speak, no doubt words of apology and attempted comfort. Neither of which she had any interest in hearing. Mia took a step back shaking her head "Don't." it was almost a snarl as she stepped round him, fisting her shaking hands and approached her brothers casket.
She had no idea how long she stood there, at her brothers feet, staring at his lifeless body. Re - living every memory her and Opie had together, over and over, until hands clasped her shoulders "you hanging in there, love?" She closed her eyes and let her head drop. She knew that gentle Scottish murmur. His hands gave her shoulders a squeeze before he moved to stand by her side. There were few in this world she would ever let near her when she felt so vulnerable, even less she would accept comfort from. But Chibs was one of the few, perhaps because he understood she couldn't accept much and never pushed. Taking the smoke Chibs offered, she dug out her lighter and quickly lit up, craving not just the nicotine, but the distraction. Knowing the questions would start once everyone got over the shock of her turning up, she decided to get this one, at least, out of the way. "Got a call from Mary last week." She sneered her step mothers name like it tasted bad. "Apparently she had the lawyer dad placed as executor track me down, and fetch my numbers and what not." Mia and her Step mother had never got along. Mia was "Just evidence of all Piney's fuck ups". "ye know 'bout ya dad then" Mia nodded and Chibs seemed relieved. "I was already on my way down when she called me to tell me about Op." The look of such sympathy on Chibs' face made her stomach twist."I'm sorry love, that's a lot'a hits to take n a few days." Mia shrugged "It is what it is." Exhaling a cloud of smoke Chibs watched her closely. "Aye." he agreed. They were silent for a time, not speaking until she turned away to dump her smoke butt. "How much do ye know?" Chibs asked softly, watching her in that way that made her feel like he could see straight through her to her God damn brain. "Nothing." She lied, watching Chibs' eyes narrow in both concern and suspicion. "Absolutely nothing." And she turned and left the room. There was something she needed to do.
Ignoring the concerned, pissed off, wary and downright scared stares that followed her to the bar, Mia helped herself to a close-to-empty bottle of Jack, sucked down the last of its contents, then continued, bottle in hand, towards Clay. Clay looked up from his conversation with one of the nomads as she approached "Amelia" he said softly voice dripping in false sympathy, he stood up slowly, milking his injuries for all they were worth. When he was finally standing he lay a 'comforting' hand on her left shoulder " I just want you to know how much I loved Opie and Piney. How much we all did. And how much we all will miss them both" She nodded as if she believed every word of it, as if everything he said was completely acceptable, before she took a step back, lifted the bottle of jack grasped in her right hand and smacked Clay across the face with it, hearing the satisfying crunch of bone before he fell to the ground.