Yeah, I know. I'm a terrible person. But, hey, I'm giving it another shot! Please enjoy!
His prison bunk could never compare to the comfort of his own bed. Juice stretched and curled around Ally, who made a sleepy noise and snuggled into him. It was early and quiet in the Ortiz home and it was the best sleep Juice had had in three years.
Ally sighed and shifted as his thumb ran back and forth over her bare stomach where her silky nightgown had shifted up. Juice opened his bleary eyes and pressed a kiss against her exposed neck.
It was Sunday and it was his favorite day. There was no work at the garage and Sundays were generally more quiet in the outlaw world. Even when he was in prison it was a quiet day. Prisoners were generally sated from visitations the day before and religious services that morning.
Before he went in Sundays were a day he and Ally spent in bed watching movies and enjoying each other. Every Sunday he spent in prison he spent yearning for their Sundays together.
His mouth worked down her neck as his hands pushed her slip up.
"You're gonna regret that," Ally mumbled sleepily, her eyes still closed.
"No, I'm not," he insisted, rolling her over so she was on her back while he climbed on top of her. His hands cupped her chest as he continued to nuzzle her neck working up to the birthmark on her jaw where he knew she was extra sensitive. "I've missed waking up to you."
Ally chuckled as she widened her legs more comfortably and met his lazy kiss. "Listen," she murmured groggily, her eyes barely open.
Juice paused with a confused look on his face. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be listening to.
"To what?"
"Just listen."
Then he heard it.
The slapping of small, bare feet on the hardwood floors.
Ally rolled out from underneath him and pulled her slip back down. "Put that thing away," she told him, patting his behind as the door creaked opened and Gabriel came in with his Mickey Mouse plush dragging behind him.
"Morning Gabe," Ally greeted softly as she rubbed her eyes. Her eyebrows furrowed as he stayed put by the door. "Well, come here."
Gabriel didn't move. He continued to stand at the door with his hand on the knob shyly looking over at them. Ally sighed and got out of the bed to go pick him up and bring him back.
"I don't know why you're acting so shy," she told him as they settled back against the pillows. Juice didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. His son didn't know what to say around him.
"Tell Daddy what we do on Sunday mornings," Ally encouraged as she pulled the blankets around them. Gabriel didn't respond. He buried his face in Ally's side.
"Go on," she prodded, nudging him gently. "Tell him what we watch."
After a few moments with Juice watching on with anxious breath, Gabriel lifted his head.
"Mi'key," he finally mumbled quietly.
"That's right." Ally grabbed the remote from the nightstand. "We watch Mickey Mouse on Sunday mornings." She looked over at Juice who had a downcast expression on his face as he watched Gabriel. "Not the same Sundays you're used to," Ally told him softly as the cartoon began playing on the television mounted on the wall.
"No, no," Juice argued, leaning back on the pillows. "I like Mickey. I always liked Donald Duck when I was little though," he told Gabriel, whose eyes were darting between the screen and Juice. Gabriel grinned around the thumb in his mouth and curled into Ally a little more. Juice did a very poor imitation of Donald Duck's classic quaking in an attempt to earn a laugh from his son.
It worked. Gabriel giggled.
Juice's smile could have lit up the town.
They laid quietly together, the three of them, and watched Mickey's escapades with his cartoon gang.
Ally glanced down to see her two boys engrossed in the cartoons. Gabriel had leaned more against the pillows than her and was closer to Juice, but still not completely touching. She smiled to herself and slid out of the bed.
Gabriel sat up at full alert. "Where goin'?
She kissed the top of his head and ruffled his hair. "Stay here with Daddy and watch cartoons. I'm going to go start on breakfast."
"No," he whined, sitting up on his knees, reaching for her and tugging her slip.
"No, no. Stay here. I'l be back. It's okay." She kissed his forehead and swiftly walked out of the room before he could reach for her or try to climb out of the bed on his own. Gabriel and Juice needed one on one time.
"It's all right, man," Juice said in what he hoped to be a light, convincing tone, wiggling down a bit and getting more comfortable under the bedding. Gabriel eyed him suspiciously and brought his Mickey Mouse plush closer to him. He didn't relax onto the pillows.
"So," Juice said awkwardly, not knowing what to do. "You like Mickey?"
Gabriel looked at him and blinked. It was a look that looked straight through you. It was so Ally Juice very nearly forgot he wasn't biologically hers.
"I find Mommy," Gabriel muttered, climbing out the bed with a thump. He ran out the door before Juice could get out of the bed.
He groaned and flopped back with a sigh. He couldn't connect with his son. His son didn't want to connect with him and wouldn't even be in the same room alone with him. He rubbed his eyes and got up, pulling on a pair of sweat pants.
Heading down the short hall that opened into the living room, dining and kitchen area, Juice couldn't help but admire how well Ally had planned and decorated the house. In the short time it had been completed and she and Gabe had been living there, it was filled with personal touches and photographs. It even seemed like he had been there the whole time with the painting of the New York skyline in the living room and subtle Sons of Anarchy touches here and there.
"Why don't you want to spend time with Daddy?"
Juice stopped where he was and listened. Ally was speaking to Gabriel as she was making breakfast. It smelled like french toast.
Gabriel spoke too lowly in his toddler dialect for Juice to hear, but he distinctly heard Ally sigh and grunt as she picked him up to sit on her hip.
"Sweetie, I know it's different and you're not used to it, but Daddy's going to be living with us all the time now. We won't have to go visit him just once a week in that place like we used to. We'll see him all the time and he missed you so much. He loves you, Gabe, and so do I. You just need to get used to it and it'll take time, but it's going to be okay. Can you try, please, for Mommy?"
Juice didn't hear Gabriel's response, but the conversation seemed to be over after that. He stepped in cautiously and Ally looked over her shoulder at him with a grin. "There's Daddy," she said, as handed Gabriel his plate of cut up pieces of french toast. "Hungry, baby?"
"Mmmhmm," Juice purred, wrapping his arms around her and kissed the back of her head. "House looks great," he murmured as Ally fixed two more plates.
"Oh, good. So you like it?" Ally turned to look at him with uncertainty tainting her face.
"I do," he assured her, gently kissing her lips. It didn't go unnoticed by him that Gabriel was watching him with a wary look on his face. "You did good, Pretty Girl." He grinned at Ally's responding smile and they took a seat at the kitchen table with Gabriel.
They ate their breakfast in comfortable quiet as Reaper sat at Juice's feet and begged for the bacon on his plate. Juice complied while giving Ally a wink. When they were finished Gabriel scampered into the living room to watch cartoons while Juice helped Ally wash and tidy the kitchen.
"Hey," Ally tugged on his sweatpants to get his attention. "Sorry about this morning. I'll make it up to you at nap time."
Juice chuckled and kissed her forehead, taking a quick whiff of her scent. "It's fine, Pretty Girl. Just gotta get used to not having you whenever and wherever I want, I guess."
"Nah. Just gotta get a little more creative," she assured him with a wink.
"Mama, Mama!" Gabriel ran into the kitchen. "I wanna play ducks!"
Ally's eyes lit up and turned to Juice. "Oh, that reminds me. Got you something. Come in here." She led him into the living room with Gabriel all ready in front of the television pulling out something from the trunk underneath it.
"I found this at a garage sale outside of Lodi last year and it was in perfect working condition and even had some games." With a flourish, she presented Juice an original Nintendo game system that was stacked neatly with an X-box and Wii. "And I thought of you. I had to buy another controller and the gun," she nodded to the orange Nintendo gun in Gabriel's hand, "on eBay. I know how much you love old school Mario and when I saw it I couldn't pass it up."
"Ducks, Mama! Pow, pow!"
"And Gabe likes the Duck Hunt game," she added as Juice took a seat on the couch. "What do you think?"
"I think I love you more now than I have ever before," Juice commented as Ally booted up the game. "Hey Gabe," he called out. Gabriel looked at him while holding the orange plastic gun in both hands. "You know the duck game is one of my favorites too. Wanna play?"
Gabriel nodded and joined him on the couch.
"All right," Ally murmured, moving behind the couch and out of the way of the television. "Well, you boys play nice and I'm gonna get the paper and take a shower." She kissed the tops of their heads. "Have fun."
Out of habit, she made her shower quick and efficient. Before Gabriel was born and before Juice went inside she would sometimes slip on sexy lingerie on Sunday afternoons just to tease Juice. Or, they would both walk around in the nude. That wasn't very practical now with a precocious three year old.
She could hear the clicking of the game gun as she headed out the front door to get the paper. The neighborhood was quiet, which was normal for a Sunday morning. Many of the houses had been remodeled added with fresh landscaping since the last time Juice was home. It wasn't the same Carpenter Street he knew.
Ally skimmed the front page story of three bodies being found at the construction site of Charming Heights, the new development on the other end of town, as she sat on the couch while Juice cheered Gabriel on as he played the game.
"Silly dog," Gabriel giggled as the game's dog laughed because Juice missed a bird.
"Yeah," Juice grumbled as Ally took a seat next to him, absorbed in the newspaper, "they don't let you shoot the dog." He handed Gabriel the gun, who immediately began clicking the trigger before the game even started. "Anything good," he asked Ally while putting an arm around her. She smelled fresh after her shower. Like vanilla and almonds.
Wordlessly, she showed him the front page with the headline of the bodies. "Know anything about this?"
He leaned back against the couch with a sigh. "Yeah," he told her softly. "That was where I was supposed to go last night. Instead Clay had me swap with Jax. It was just settling up a debt."
"The Russians aren't some dinky little group," Ally countered carefully. "What about retaliation?"
"Don't worry about it," Juice replied easily, reaching for his cup of coffee on the table. He caught Ally's disbelieving glare. "Seriously," he said with a grin. "It's fine. Everything's gonna be fine, baby. So, what are we doin' today?"
Ally shrugged and leaned into him. He put his arm around her as Gabriel became bored with the video game and started pushing his toy cars around the floor. "Whatever you want to do. It's Sunday. No Club stuff today?"
Juice shook head. "Nope. At least, none they need me for right now if there is."
Ally grinned and curled into him. She closed her eyes in contentment as Juice kissed the top of her head. She had missed this complete and utter comfort and contentment while he had been away. A sharp thunk followed by a distressed cry jerked her away from it.
Ally shoved away from Juice and rushed to Gabriel, who was clutching his head as fat, crocodile tears ran down his cheeks. "Gabe, what happened? Oh, baby," she pulled his hand away to see a red mark forming with a bump underneath. Gabriel didn't respond verbally around his wails. He merely pointed as the end table.
He had tripped and run into it.
"Let mama see," she coaxed as she inspected it closer. There was a red welp, but no blood. "Oh, you're okay." She kissed it and hugged him tightly. "You're okay. That's why we need to watch where we're going."
She heard the familiar ring of Juice's burner. He stepped out of the living room as Ally tended to Gabriel, who was still sniffling into her ear, but had calmed.
When Juice came back, he was dressed and had his kutte on with a regretful look on his face. She knew that look.
"Club stuff?"
"Club stuff," he mumbled. "I won't be long, though. And I'll be local so I'll be back even sooner. Gotta build some boxes."
Ally nodded sadly as he leaned down to give her a kiss. She wasn't going to ask what kind of boxes or what for. She figured it was for a run of guns, but the less she knew the better. Juice attempted to give a kiss to Gabriel, but he shied away and buried himself in Ally's neck.
"It was good while it lasted," Ally murmured, pecking Juice's cheek in an attempt to soften the emotional blow given by Gabriel. "I'll see you in a little bit."
Ally was right.
It had been good while it lasted.
He had been out for barely an entire weekend before he was sitting in the back of a Sheriff's car being hauled to the station. He had been picked up outside Clear Passages, the weed shop and colon clearing establishment he had invested in before he had gone in.
Chibs had divulged in some shady burritos and needed to get cleaned out. Juice had offered to go with him and that's when the cops had busted him. Because he had dime bag of weed in the pocket of his kutte.
"This is bullshit," he muttered as he sat in the familiar backseat.
"Shut up shithead," the bald headed black cop snapped from the front seat. Juice ground his teeth as the cuffs dug into the skin of his wrists. The short ride to the station wasn't quick enough. The cop escorted him in and deposited him in front of the chief's door.
After a quick knock he was pushed inside where Sheriff Roosevelt was waiting. He spun around in his chair to see him and closed the file he had been looking at. "Close the door," he said blandly to the officer. "Ortiz," he drawled in greeting. Haven't even been out a week and here you are."
"It's bullshit. I have a card," Juice replied, referring to his government issued marijuana card that made it legal for him to have it.
Roosevelt chuckled dryly. "Uncle Sam doesn't give a shit about that when you're a felon, Ortiz. That's not why you're here, though. Thought it'd be time for us to get to know one another." He took a picture from his desk drawer. "You're from New York, right?"
Juice shrugged. "So?"
Roosevelt casually got up and sat on the edge of his desk closest to Juice. "Thought you'd appreciate this. This is a picture of me and my dad fishing at Rockaway Beach."
Juice took one glance at the photo before snorting in disbelief. The photo may have been of Roosevelt and his dad and it may have been in New York. Not New York City. The photo wasn't taken at Rockaway. It was too clean and the water too blue. "That ain't Rockaway."
"Of course it is."
"Nah. The closest thing you'd catch out of Rockaway is an AIDS syringe. What's this about?"
"You ever talk to your Dad, Ortiz?"
"Never even met the guy." Juice's confusion of this meeting was growing but he was doing everything he could to keep his face smooth.
"Would you want to?" The core of the meeting was beginning to show. "I can make that happen." Roosevelt reopened the file he had been looking at and handed it to Juice. Paper clipped to the top was a photo of a dark skinned man with a bright smile. It looked like he was a line cook at a restaurant somewhere.
Juice had seen photos of him before. He didn't even need to look at the report to know his name: Michael Cole. Given, the photos he had always seen had been when Michael was a much younger man, but the unnerving feature that always bothered Juice was the fact that they shared the same smile.
The same smile Juice shared with his son.
In a fleeting moment of disgust, he noticed several traits of Gabriel that were present in Michael. Aside from his smile and shape of his mouth, his ears and jawline were reminiscent of the man's. At least Gabriel's skin tone was a lighter tone than even Juice's mostly Latino coloring.
Juice skimmed the brief information accompanying the photo. Apparently Michael now lived in Chicago and had been for twelve years.
"You see what I see," Roosevelt continued, sitting back in his chair. "Not the fact that you're a dead ringer for your daddy or that your son looks just like him too?" He paused as Juice gritted his teeth and snapped the folder closed. "No. What I noticed is that he's black.
"Yeah. So?"
Roosevelt eyed Juice carefully. The younger man's tension was radiating off of him in waves. He knew he was hitting a sore spot.
"So," Roosevelt repeated. "So, no brothers in the Club. Am I right?"
"I'm not a brother," Juice snapped.
"Oh, sure you are. Let me break it down for you, Ortiz," Roosevelt started, leaning on his elbows on the shiny mahogany desk. "You can't be in SAMCRO if you're black. You obviously left that little bit of your heritage out so they would accept you. What do you think they would do if they know who you really are?"
Juice was biting down on the inside of his mouth so hard he was drawing blood. "What do you want," he ground out, glaring at the sheriff.
Roosevelt couldn't help but be slightly amused by Juice's volatile reaction. "Look, man, I'm not the bad guy. I'm not here to make your life more complicated. But, the fact of the matter is you aren't who you say you are. Now, I can keep this secret for you. SAMCRO will never know of your darker roots. But, you gotta do something for us, my brother."