Hello!
After Tuesday, I felt it ended a little empty. I wanted more, a final ending.
*A/N- I know that some facts (age, pregnancy, etc.) might not fit with the show, but I came up with this.
Enjoy my lovelies.
He turned to the right, following the bends in the road thinking of his life. He was heading to join the Marines, and this was the final stop on his way to report to boot camp.
The road raced underneath his motorcycle. It felt amazing. Better than a car, better than a mountain bike. On the bike, he felt free.
On his right was the welcome sign to the Charming city limits.
It was a decision that had hurt his mom, and Nero when he announced his choice to return to Charming, even for a brief visit, before going to boot camp. He turned his Indian onto main street, vaguely remembering it from him being a child. It still looked the same, except for the recent housing developments added along the highway. It appeared that Charming had flourished in the last fourteen years.
Passing St. Thomas' Hospital he remembered his mom.
Tara Knowles. Often an angel in his dreams, he wrote to her often in his journal.
Wendy, his mom, had kept photos of her. Even after Wendy had sold everything in Charming, save for a few things and kept the kids up with Nero in Northern California. He flew past a half-way house for young mothers. Wendy's legacy was to turn Gemma's home into a house for abused women. It remained open, and it was good to know that it was having a better legacy than who had last owned it.
He'd just graduated high school, applied to join the marines, finished rebuilding the vintage Indian, and knew that this visit was coming. Wendy and Nero told him everything they'd done in the final sales, and how they didn't think he should visit, but he insisted that he should.
Slowly turning right, he pulled into the lot of the Telford-Trager automotive garage. On the left, a new clubhouse. Slowly he slowed down and pulled into a spot on the right. His heart raced as he turned off the bike, and lowered the kickstand.
A man, around Nero's age started walking out of the garage. He had two scars on his cheeks, making his face almost into a smile. Another man stood behind him.
Swallowing, he swung his leg over his bike. Placing the helmet on the handle, he moved to the older men. Smiling at them, he nodded.
"You obviously don't have a problem with yer bike son. Whatcha here for?" the nearer man asked him, an accent weighing heavily on his voice.
"I came back to visit." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Sons of Anarchy still around?"
The men stiffened, not understanding his intentions. "What's it to you kid?" the second man asked.
Rocking forward. "My grandfather founded the club. My dad was president before he died."
Both men stared at him, shock lining their eyes.
"I'm Abel Teller."
The men leading the way, Abel followed them into the clubhouse. The people inside were stocking the bar, all stopped and stared. Wendy always said he looked the most like his dad, and he was surprised that Chibs or Tig hadn't commented on it, or they didn't want to believe it.
The wall held photos of all current members who'd been in jail. Happy, Rat, so many others. Happy wasn't here.
"Happy runs our crew inside Stockton now." Tig commented, almost reading his thoughts. "Thought you'd be more interested in what's over there."
Abel looked to his right, seeing the vintage Indian, fully restored on a dias off the floor. Behind it was a photo of Jt and Piney. He took a deep breath.
"How long did it take you to fix it?"
Tig sighed. "Not long. Just needed to be scraped up, cleaned up, and put back together."
Chibs cleared his throat and pointed to the chapel. All of them went in, leaving the doors open. Rat the new sergent-at-arms stood just outside the doors, giving them space, but wanting to hear everything.
Sitting at the table, Abel stared at Chibs and Tig.
"How's yer mom?"
Abel smiled. "Good. She's strong with three teenagers. She held her own with or without Nero."
"Nero's boy how is he?"
"Good. He just graduated college. He runs the ranch now." Abel smiled. "Tommy is doing well. He wants to go into medicine, or medical research. Just like his mom."
Tig smiled, and leaned forward. "Three teenagers? When you left it was just you and Tommy."
"Mom had a girl nine months after we left Charming." Abel smiled. "She's got Nero wrapped around her finger."
Chibs laughed. "Aye, girls will do that to ye." His brow furrowed. "What's her name?"
Abel swallowed. "Tara." Both men moved in their seats. "Tara Grace Teller."
Tig's eyes glistened with tears. Chibs cleared his throat. "Not Tara Case?"
Abel shook his head. "She never denied that Tara came from Jax. Tara knows more about her namesake than her father. Is an artist like her, she helps children paint at the local shelter. Smiles like her." Abel laughed. "She even has a garden of pink roses."
Chibs chuckled. Then his face grew serious. "Abel, I'm not going to prospect you." He stared at him. "Yer da wouldn't have wanted that for you."
Abel shook his head. "I don't want it."
Both men's faces showed shock.
"Wendy and Nero reminded us about what Jax did his whole life. How being born into the club destroyed him. I don't want that. You may not be the same club, but the same blood runs in my veins. I want to forge my path away from the club."
Both men smiled. "You are more like you dad than you think." Tig stated.
Hugging both men, Abel walked out of the clubhouse. Being stopped by several, including Rat to be hugged. Spying a mechanic sweeping out a working bay, Abel walked over to him.
"Hey."
The man looked up. "Yeah?"
"I need directions to the cemetery. Know where it is?"
The man nodded, and told him how to get there.
"Thanks. Abel Teller by the way." He stuck out his hand. The man smiled and took it. "Kenny Winston. Pleasure to meet you."
Abel moved slowly through the tombstones. Leaving the clubhouse had felt like closure. Hugging Chibs and Tig, having them state that no matter what, he or his siblings would be welcome to the club, but never allowed to prospect.
Twirling the flag in his hand, he stood at his grandfather's grave.
"Hi grandpa. I know that I never knew you but, I feel connected to you. Legacy and everything. Probably why I decided to join the marines."
Abel took a breath.
"I'm sure that you never wanted what happened to happen, but it did. And in a way, I'm glad. In a phoenix from the ashes sort of way. I do wish that I had known you, but I am proud to be your grandson." Abel placed the flag in front of the tombstone.
He knelt on the earth in front of the tombstone. It was well maintained, fresh flowers around the stone. Abel placed the pink roses at the base of her name and smiled.
"Hi mom." he took a deep breath. "I know you're watching over the three of us. Even Tara who never knew you is so much like you, except her eyes. She has her mom's eyes."
Abel swallowed. "I love you mom. You worked so hard to get us out of the life, and I wish that you could have lived with us, helped raise us. The farm is beautiful. Your paintings hang all over the house. Mom couldn't part with them, they inspired Tara to start painting." The tears spilled over. "I wish so much that you could be alive mom, but I know that you'll never leave."
He leaned forward and kissed the stone.
There was one last stop he had to make. Turning the Indian down the back roads of the cemetery, he went to the spot that Chibs told him. The lone stone stood out towards the tree line of the cemetery. Parking, Abel moved to the stone.
He looked down at the name.
Jackson Nathaniel Teller
Beloved son, brother and father
A lost soul laid to rest
"Hi dad."
Abel took a deep breath. He turned the ring that Gemma had given him so long ago. He'd kept it, hidden from his mom.
"I know all about you. How you wanted us to hate you. How you tried to fix the club, and how it fixed itself with your death. I wanted to let you know that I don't hate you." Abel's chest hurt, trying to breathe.
"I hate that the life killed mom. That it destroyed Wendy but rebuilt herself. I never wanted to be you. I never wanted the club knowing it destroyed so many good people." Abel slid the ring off his hand. He sighed, placing it on top of the tombstone. "I am your son. But I forge my path. A path that will lead me to be what you could not be. And for that, I love you. I love who you were around the family. I am your son. And only yours."
Abel stood and smiled at the grave. "And for that, thank you dad. Thank you for letting all of us be free."
He turned and walked back to his bike. His phone going off, and glancing at the screen, smiling at his mom's text.
"Everything alright?"
He responded.
"Yeah. I'm heading out."