I clearly don't own Sons of Anarchy or X-men. Sad enough as that is. Unfortunately, I am not genius enough for all of that. This is the first story that I made an attempt to follow some wonderful advice given by the wonderfully talented Chuck Palahniuk. Everyone should check it out and try to follow it. It is difficult at first but definitely will help to make anyone a better writer. ( post/57161041570/writing-advice-by-chuck-palahniuk -in-six )

The feeling of joy washed over me as the town I grew up in greeted me after months of being away and a smile finally passed over my lips. Four months of travel had created a longing and weariness within me that coming home helped to sooth. The appearance of the small town remained unchanged which did not come as a surprise.

The familiar roar of a Harley rumbling down main street reached my ears. Turning my head to the right ever so slightly, my brother Jackson Teller came into view. The ghost of a smile transformed into a full grin. The motorcycle pulled to a stop at the curb, the rumbling that filled the air dying as he shut down the engine. The removal of his helmet as I dropped my bag, revealed longer blonde hair than when I had previously seen on him. Before I could blink, Jackson stood in front of me, a grin matching my own plastered over his face. His arms encased me, wrapping me tightly in a hug that told me that I was actually home.

"Damn sis. It is good to see you." Laughing softly as my chin rested on his shoulder, the sentiment that laid heavy in his voice was felt as well as appreciated. It was proof that I belonged home and not traveling the country as I spent the past several months.

"I missed you too Jax." As he pulled back from the hug, moving his hands to my shoulders, I could tell that he wanted to scan me over, checking me for anything tht had changed or any harm that could have possibly come to my person. "Promise you that nothing has changed. I am in one piece and will remain that way. You should have that stored away in that thick skull of yours. I haven't been away that long bro." Jax gave me a smirk that told me he was glad nothing had changed and that I was going to act the way that I always acted.

"Well you never know with you. If there is anyone that could find a way to get in over their heads, it would be you Meria. It may not be able to save you forever."
Jax and the rest of the club for that matter never directly spoke of my mutation as a mutation. Without speaking of it, not only did it keep me out of any negative situation with the government or police but it also kept the information under wraps from any enemies of the club who would seek to use it to their advantage. However, that did not mean that the club itself could not and often did not use it to the advantage of the club and our family. Sons of Anarchy did not patch women into the club due to the by-laws, so I was not allowed a kutte which at times did have some advantages.

My entire life had been spent around the club. It was the only life I had any experience with. I was abandoned as a baby due to my mutation. Whoever had given birth to me freaked out over it and left me on the side of the road, so I had been told by Gemma. Apparently, Gemma and Clay found me on accident. Gemma being the maternal woman that she is, despite the hard side of her, immediately wanted to take me and raise me. Jax had been around eleven at the time and Thomas had passed on about two years previous to that night. While Gemma was ready for it, Clay took some time to come around to the idea. Doubts lingered in my mind when I was growing up that he had ever wanted a child to begin with. As Jax was a boy, Clay could deal with that but he was unsure how to deal with the fact that I was a girl. Eventually, he came around as I slowly endeared myself to him in little ways each day. The rest of the members had taken to me like Gemma had.

My mutation did not fully show for a number of years. There were always signs that I was different from other children, something Gemma and Clay watched carefully over the years to monitor. When I was roughly ten years old, I began to grow into my own. They quickly learned that I was a feral mutant, granting me speed, strength, an excellent sense of smell and sight but also a more animalistic nature. It had been a trial and error effort of raising me for Gemma and Clay. Unique childhood did not come close to covering the experiences I had growing up in the Sons of Anarchy motorcycle club.

"Come on. Mom and Clay will be thrilled to lay their eyes on you. First month you were gone Mom was crazy."

"That is different from any other time how?" A smack upside the back of my head was his answer. "I get it, I get it. I am ready to get home anyway. Been away too long."

Just as with the town of Charming, the appearance of Teller-Morrow Garage had not changed. What ended up coming as a surprise as my walking, slightly talking nephew. I could feel my jaw slacken a bit in amazement. The last time I had laid eyes on him, he was swaddled up in a blanket and babbling baby talk. A part of me swelled with pride at these developments. He may not have been blood but things like that didn't matter in the realm of family, especially with SAMCRO.

"Hey there little man." I couldn't help but grin as Jax scooped the little boy up into his arms. "Look who is back." He pointed towards me as Abel turned his gaze in my direction.

"Hi buddy." I stepped closer, feeling thrilled as a smile came to his face and relief that he was reaching out towards me. "You've gotten so big." Jax passed him over me.

"Aunt Meria." Shifting his light weight in my arms, we continued moving towards the clubhouse. Mentally, I gave a brief pause as my mind wandered to Tara but my question on where she was, said person in question walked out of the garage office and called out to us.

"Jax!" Deciding to let him handle her on his own, I sat down at the bench by the boxing ring just as Chibs and Bobby emerged from the clubhouse.

"If it isn't our nomad princess." A sigh of annoyance slipped from my lips at the term of endearment that I had been christened with. It was clear to all the members early on in my life that I did not appreciate being called princess but it stuck no matter what I had done. Abel lightly tugged on my hair before planting a sloppy kiss on my cheek and wiggling out of my arms, causing me to laugh. Abel was practically a spitting image of Jax but his need to move and play was all me despite the lack of relation.

"Yes. I have been kind enough to grace you with my presence once more." Once more, I was engulfed in two tight hugs, reinforcing the decision to come home as the correct one.

He caught the scent, faint but intoxicating, as he passed through the town on his way north. The scent was not one that he had the pleasure of revealing in for a number of years. Once before, in this town in California, had he caught the scent of a female feral. Unfortunately, the last time, Victor had not been able to locate the source of the smell. He refused to fail this time, especially as it was more mature than it had previously been.

A superb sense of smell certainly helped but the level of smog from the number of motorcycles as well as the faint levels of the scent made it slightly difficult to track. The town was small and the local police department for one reason or another seemed to be watching the movement of everyone carefully. That meant that he had to move slowly and carefully so as not to draw attention to himself. He was already an outside and given his appearance, it did not take much for people to give him extra attention.
He finally found the source of the scent as the strongest smell was been given off from the parking lot of an automotive garage.