"Anwer it." The hushed comforting tone Tig was using rubbed on his already hitched annoyance and he glared from the screen of the phone directly toward the other man.
Chibs cocked him a hardened glance, flicking dark eyes toward the other men before looking back. "Don't start in."
"Answer her, Chibby." Tig's voice welled quiet and went veering toward an almost impatient pleading, concern lightening up his eyes toward crystal before he turned toward his bike. "She's makin' peace."
"Tigger." His warning tasted thick on his tongue, heavy as he exhaled, the phone going off once again in his clenched up palm as he let the other hand curl the bike handle.
The suddenly impatient way Trager flung back around from his Dyna made his lanky limbs clench up even as the other men took a few well timed and knowing steps away from their clipped conversation. "Chibs."
The tipping between them was verging on crossed as they blocked toward each other.
And he couldn't bring himself to shunt away the closest love he had left on a gamble of too big pride and a woman he couldn't seem to shake a wanting for.
"We got a long fucking road ahead, brother. She's your wayside this ride, and ya damn well know it." Tig sharpened a pointing toward the phone, voice clipping into a hardened but intentionally graded quietness as he leaned over the Scot's bike. "It's your ship now and that's your goddamn lighthouse. Ignore it and you're gonna crash on us. And I'm not doin' this shit alone. I won't."
The problem was that, anymore… there was next to never a lie in the other man that Chibs couldn't read. And he wasn't catching one in the desperately exhausted blue that was aimed in his direction.
He thumbed the phone quickly in resigned acceptance, turning a darkened glance off of Trager's bright blued sincerity as he forced his steps away with a hushed tone. "Aye. Whattcha need?"
"Your voicemail." There was a softly breathing surprise in her voice and it went echoing over the line and through the rattling of his lungs. "I expected your voicemail."
"You'd rather I hung up then?" he exhaled roughly into impatience. "Make up your goddamn mind, Ally."
"Depends on whether or not you're gonna keep using that tone." The sudden sharpness of her response twitched an unexpected smile onto his lips, jaw dipping to bite down on it as he forced himself breathing past the fact that even in her annoyance, she'd regained a confidence in the way she clashed into him. It laid a comfort over his skin that he ached into. That brandished up flare of her self righteous, haughty, ever-the-fucking-dramatic spin-out.
And, at the least, it wasn't a cagey disgust. Yet.
He softened his voice into a slow neutrality, sighing into it. "What, Althea?"
"I scheduled Unser's services. I thought you should know."
He nodded slowly, exhaling to drive his voice gentler than the tension in his hands, "Okay, I'm roadside. Call Scoops. Give it t'Chucky for me, yeah?"
There was an unsure silence between them and it treaded his boots still, "Yeah, sure."
"He knows the calls. He'll handle it for me." He told her with a nod. "I gotta go."
"You always do, Filip." And there it was. That slap of sickened degradation.
He rolled his eyes as he hung up on her and turned back toward the bikes.
"You gimme that boy." He hadn't even taken the gloves from his fingers before reaching into the way Wendy was moving toward all of them as they leaned off their bikes, her steps slow and stilted unsure as he tentatively pressed his fingers into Thomas' back.
She seemed to hesitate into leaning the child toward him, but Chibs closed his palms sturdily into the child's sides, lifting the boy from her and turning him warmly into his chest. He turned a hand out against her leading wrist to squeeze against her caution before angling his face tightly into the child's shifting. He caught the way Nero was drawing Abel slowly toward them, Tig's shift toward them from his bike quick and intent as he finally let his eyes close into the too sweet smell of baby soap and mulled formula. He startled a little into the way Wendy's hand dug clinging into the leather of his shirt but he didn't lift his head from Thomas' grunt at his ear, allowing her to pull them into a tightened up knot.
"I'm sorry, love." His lips were rubbing the apology against the boy's softened up hair but he caught the red eyed wincing she made as his glance lifted slightly. "I'm sorry."
"I don't understand, Chibs." The mumbling shock on her was enough to force a swallow down his constricted throat as Tig stepped into their closed up space, Abel's head downed onto his shoulder in avoidance while his small hand clung into leather. "I don't."
"I'm sorry." He shook his head marginally as he shunted his sleeve carefully from the pulling of her fingers, no other words filtering past the haze that was suddenly riding the world that was caving in on him as Nero stepped into her back.
He turned sharply away from them because he had nowhere else to go, one hand clutched under the child as the other curved up around the back of the boy's head, limbs heaving suddenly heavy as he turned out a few steps. But he couldn't force himself to keep going any farther away from them. But he couldn't go back into the way they were looking at him either.
His body reflexively graced into a crouch, curling the still grumbling child into his chest as he tainted another chanted round of apologies into the boy.
"You staying here? Want me to leave Hap?"
Chibs nodded slowly into gentled agreement, head turning away from the sound of Abel's voice melding with Wendy's from the living room, his head lifting into the way Trager's slim hips rounded the extended counter so that they were both tucked tightly along it. He gave him a forced smile, pushing the half bottle of Jack across the counter with a forcefully slow exhale from battered lungs.
"Send Hap home, though." Chibs murmured, eyes affectionately following the way his brother spun the cap on the bottle with a sharp break of the opposite palm, swilling down a long swallow before curling the bottle into the center of his chest. "We'll be fine."
"Naw, I don't want you alone. Nero's staying at Diosa." A far off glancing into the center of Teller's kitchen betrayed his still stilted brokenness. "Couldn't go back to Gem's."
"We'll be fine, Tiggy." He leaned forward and twisted sidelong on the counter, lifting his arm against the other man's shoulders before he used the other hand to pry the bottle back for a long swallow of his own. "You go on. Send Happy home. Day's done, brother."
"You call me." There was a soft demand in the other man's voice though his glance was still distantly forward, his hands hooked into the front of his belt for a forced attempt at some kind of relaxation. "If something happens. If you need anything."
"I will." Chibs just grinned into the pushing, his brother's worry drawing his kiss against the hazy mess of dark hair. "We're good with Marcus and Tyler and we'll deal with the Irish. Triad's broken and the AB's heeled, yeah? Get some sleep. You tell Venus I say hello."
A suddenly cautious brightness of blue turned up his way. "Yeah. Okay."
Chibs gave him a saddened smile before taking another long swallow off the bottle, his shoulders slanting at wearied angles as his body settled back harder into the edge, boots planted flat to keep from shifting. Tig's sudden and swift shift off toward the center of the room broke the intentionally stalling comfort they'd been leaning into each other and the Scot palmed the bottle back to the counter, drawing himself up onto it so that he could turn the whiskey back into his palms with a nod toward the other man.
"Get right with her Chibs." Tig's shoulder swayed back softly into the quieted words, his head turning but eyes still outwardly unfocused into his muddled up thoughts, "It's not just about you two and your goddamn mess, ya know? Wouldn't hurt to have her on our side. We could really bring it back this time. But it's a pretty small window and it's gonna close quick."
"I know." Chibs nodded an equally quiet agreement, his head angling as Wendy's voice caught up from the living room and then faded.
"I mean, she's crazy – but she wants the same thing we want right now." Trager lifted a hand into exasperated explanation, "And it's not like we can pass judgment on crazy."
"You're not sayin' a thing I don't already understand, Tigger." He lifted the bottle but didn't drink, swaying it between them slightly, "She left me. Wasn't the other way around. It was her decision."
A lazed glance of half annoyance and near accusation laid over Trager's features and the turn of his blue eyes paled the rest of him, knowing clear in the brightness of his arched glance.
"I don't think she meant it." Tig murmured truthfully, "Or she wouldn't keep calling. She doesn't need you to get her job done but she's still in your space. She's giving you plenty of chances."
"And I don't think y'realize what it is to want a woman who despises what y'are when she's not watching." Chibs' darker eyes had downed round the rim of the nearly empty bottle, focusing on the way he'd tucked it between his knees.
"And that's your baggage, brother." The jutting response from his Vice President was full with force but also laden with a sort of teasing softness that was meant to cure and not cut, "You're carrying it into this. Because if she saw you right now… shit. You wouldn't be drinkin' alone like the fuckin' lush you are."
Telford snorted off a head shaking grin, "Go home, Tiggy. Long days comin'. We're ridin' for that funeral tomorrow whether she likes it or not."
"Call her. Tell her the kids are back. Set something up with Children's Services." Tig offered as he started back around the counter's outcropping, his hand catching against Telford's slumped back. "It's even ground. It's something you're both gonna be working for and not against."
There was a slumping shrug in the man's shoulders and it flexed under his fingers as he palmed the patch, "Maybe."
Tig nodded acceptance into the frayed possibility, patting against leather as he started his steps from the kitchen, "I'm gonna tell the boys good night."
"You realize I have caller ID, right?" The familiar cut of her wiry impatience as she waited, the phone line echoing loud into his ear, it tweaked a near bittersweetened smile on his lips. "What do you need, Telford?"
He exhaled into a smirking as he shunted his ass lower into the center of the couch cushions, sure to edge his boots off the end of it as he centered the sleeping child into his chest, "Hi, darlin'."
"What happened?" There was an educated edging to her voice, wariness in the way she mingled concern and accusation at once into the words.
Chibs just palmed against Thomas' back, rubbing his fingers into the warm breathing that was leveling out the discordant rhythm of his own lungs. "I've got the boys."
"They're safe?"
"Abel's plenty wrecked." He murmured quietly, angling the phone into his jaw and shoulder while he shifted his back flat out onto the couch, both hands hushing comfort against the toddler to keep him from waking, "Keepin' close to Wendy, though. She'll bring 'im back. Small one's sleepin' like an angel still."
"Jesus, good." The relief in her voice was a sort of newness to him, a purity of appreciation that he had neither expected nor experienced all that much. It made him crave another round of it.
Filip let his jaw lay into softened blonde, shutting his eyes into the way the child was rumbling a sleepy noise into him, small fingernails digging on the patches while he lowered his voice even farther into a murmur, "Jackson wanted Wendy to keep 'em. Wanted to know they wouldn't… She won't let these boys come to this, Ally. And I'm of the same mind. They won't be us."
There was a weakness of understanding to her exhalation, "I know you think - "
"Wendy is Abel's mother." He tightened into the veering authority in the tone she was using, driving it quiet with his own. "And Thomas needs her to be his."
"I agree, Filip. I'm not arguing."
The sweetened up smell of the boy on his chest combined with the fact that she'd given her voice over to a certain softness had him nearer to sleep than he'd been in days and his eyes burned him for closing, "Will y'help her, please? With Children's Services? Needs t'be as easy as possible for them."
"Of course." The sure agreement of her was surely an illusion due to the fact that they were at least discussing the inherent goodness of innocent children, but he let his weariness lay long into the temporary peacefulness. "Yeah."
Chibs exhaled slowly into silkied blonde, "Set a time? After the funerals, yeah?"
"Okay." He damn near heard a hopeful smile on the tipping of her gentled tone, "Yeah. I'll call in the morning. Let them know she's been in contact and that she's being pro-active. We'll make it happen."
"Okay." He felt his shoulders settle on their own, lowering deeper into the cushion, "I'm ridin' that funeral tomorrow, Althea. You settle yourself on that now. Samcro's taking him home too."
"Filip?" Ally's voice warmed over the line in a way that tricked him into keeping his eyes closed on a lie of softly woven security. Too close to the murmurs she'd given him in middle morning darkness with her hands at his cheeks. Too safe and familiar. Too taunting of her ability to be his sanctuary when they were still too busy punishing each other for being themselves.
"Aye?"
"Try to sleep." At least there was still a tracing of almost affection to her tone, even if it was dry enough to be a tint too commanding.
He couldn't keep the saddened smile from rubbing the child's head as the line went dead and his shoulders flexed back toward sudden tightness, thumb jamming the phone off as he sighed, "Sure."
