V looked around nervously. She hated hospitals, and really hadn't wanted to take Abel to his appointment at St. Thomas. Jax had gone out on a run and was late getting back, though, and Gemma had very little patience for what V did or didn't want to help out with. So here she was, pushing the merrily babbling Abel in his stroller down the stark white hallway. The appointment with Abel's doctor had been awkward—she couldn't tell V anything, and seemed annoyed that she wasn't speaking to Jax or Gemma. They'd left as quickly as possible. As she waited for the elevator, V focused straight ahead, watching the floors tick by, counting the minutes until she and Abel could escape.
Later, V cursed herself for not being more aware of her surroundings as she stepped into the elevator. Being in a hospital had her off her game, and she wasn't paying the least bit of attention to the other occupant as she pushed Abel through the doors. It wasn't until the slow descent began that she looked up and found herself face to face with Ernest Darby.
V froze, her hands clutching the stroller handle tightly. She said nothing, her mind instantly back in the dim bar, Darby sitting across the table, just before the shots were fired.
Darby shook his head. "Looks like you've got nine lives," he said, looking her up and down. "Don't even look any worse for wear."
Instinctively, V's right hand moved to her left arm, her fingers tracing the places that had only recently been casted. Her whole body was cold, and only by concentrating on it could she keep herself from shaking. This is fear, she thought, feeling oddly removed. This is me, scared. Again.
Darby grinned. "Not near as mouthy now as you were when you put my guy in here, are ya?" When V stayed frozen as the elevator door opened in the hospital lobby, he turned to face her fully before leaving. "That's good. Mouth like that will get a girl in trouble. Especially now that Sam Crow doesn't have your back. You might not be so lucky next time." He grinned again.
After Darby got off, V stayed still in the elevator, unaware as the doors closed and it returned to the fifth floor. Only when the doors opened and she saw the same hallway she'd just left did she shake herself out of it enough to push the down button again, then get off and steer Abel's stroller towards the Charger. Once Abel was in his seat and she was behind the wheel, she locked the doors, then mechanically put the key in the ignition and drove to Teller-Morrow. It wasn't until she was in the lot that she realized she'd barely been breathing the whole way.
By the time V and Abel returned to Teller-Morrow, Jax and the rest of the guys who'd been on the run had returned. As she wheeled Abel into the clubhouse, Jax approached them, smiling. He kissed V quickly, then reached down into the stroller for his son. As he stood back up, Abel in his arms, he saw the look on V's face. Before he could say anything, though, she was crossing the room, sitting down at the bar.
V didn't say anything to any of the assembled Sons, or to Gemma, who was sitting on the bar stool closest to her. Even though it was barely afternoon and everyone else was still drinking coffee, she pulled the closest whiskey bottle towards her. Her hands were shaking so much as she poured that more ended up on the bar than in her glass.
Jax moved towards her. "Babe? What's going on? Are you OK?"
"I need a fucking drink." Frustrated, V put the bottle down on the bar, raising what had ended up in the glass to her lips and pouring it straight down her throat. Tipping the bottle towards the glass again, she sloshed the liquor out again. "Fuck!"
Gemma reached over and covered V's hand with her own, forcing her to return the bottle to the bar. "What the hell are you doing?" she asked, her voice not sympathetic. Since her kidnapping, V's drinking had been very moderate. "You're shaking so bad you can't pour. What the fuck happened?"
V shook her head and moved her arm from under Gemma's hand. "I'm fine." She got up, her eyes wild, looking for a way out of the room. Jax stepped in front of her.
"Did something happen at the hospital? Is there something wrong with Abel?"
V shook her head again. "No. Abel's fine. Doc wouldn't tell me anything, because I'm not family, but she said no need to worry about anything,"
"You pissed because she said you're not family?" Gemma asked. She could see where that would piss her off.
"No, no. She's right. I'm not Abel's mom." V swallowed. Clearly they weren't going to let this go, and she knew she was acting weird. Part of her wanted to flee the room, anything was better than endless questions, but the other part really didn't want to be alone.
"What the hell is going on then, V?" Jax's voice was louder now, less patient. "You look like you saw a goddamn ghost."
V could feel herself losing it. She had meant to stay calm, but Jax couldn't have chosen worse words. "A goddamn ghost…" she smirked. "Should have been a goddamn ghost." She looked up, grabbing the neck of the bottle again and this time successfully pouring herself another drink. After she put it back, she met Jax's eyes. "Shared an elevator at St. Thomas. With Darby."
"Fuck." Jax had been avoiding talking to V about Darby and the club's decision to wait and watch. It hadn't even occurred to him that she might run into the man. Charming wasn't a big place. He searched V's face for how she was taking it. Before, she'd seemed afraid, startled. Now she just looked pissed. Good. He could deal with pissed.
"You didn't talk to her about Darby?" Clay scowled at Jax. "I thought that was taken care of."
"No, I…" Jax trailed off. There was no good reason for his not talking to V—the truth was that things had been so good between them lately, and he'd been enjoying it so much, he didn't want to risk upsetting her. "Shit." He reached for V, landing his hand on her hair. "I'm sorry, darlin'."
"What did that Nazi prick have to say?" Opie asked, his brow furrowed. He, too, had a clear memory of Darby across that table from them, and what had happened after that, to V, was something he didn't even want to think about. It had to be horrible for her to have run into him.
"He was full of fucking swagger," V said, her eyes still on Jax. "Couldn't wait to tell me how much trouble my mouth could get me in, since Sam Crow doesn't have my back. Said I wouldn't be so lucky next time." She was surprised she was being so honest, but her anger was making the decisions. The whole way back from the hospital, the words had echoed in her mind. Now that Sam Crow doesn't have your back….now that Sam Crow doesn't have your back…
Realizing that she'd likely regret the scene she was about to make, V suddenly rose from the bar, pulling her head out from where Jax's hand was still in her hair. "You got the kid now?" she asked, not waiting for an answer. "I gotta go. Shit to do."
"No." Clay's voice was hard and final. "You think you're gonna go off half-cocked after Darby. That can't happen."
Enraged now, V spun around to face him. "That son of a bitch set me up to get killed. To get fucking tortured. And you decided not to do anything about it. Well, that's your call. But you sure as hell aren't going to stop me."
"Like hell I'm not." Clay's face didn't show any sympathy, just the hard countenance he always wore when giving an order he knew wasn't going to be popular. "If I have to keep you locked up here, or keep somebody on you, I will. Nobody moves on Darby until I give the order."
As V opened her mouth to speak again, her face twisted with anger, Clay cut her off. "You better think real hard about what you're about to say," he said. "Whether you respect it or not, this is my club. I can still kick your ass out."
V clenched her jaw, but said nothing. Everybody in the room could see her rage. "Fine," she seethed. "No moves on Darby. Can I go now?"
"You sure you get what I'm saying?" Clay peered at V intently.
"You're real fuckin' clear," she answered. Without saying a word to anyone else, she turned a left the clubhouse. The room was still silent when the Charger roared to life outside.
Clay shook his head. "Never seen a bitch so set on stompin' out as that one." He turned back towards Jax. "Why the fuck didn't you talk to her?" Before Jax could answer, Clay continued. "She goes off and does some dumb shit that we have to clean up, that's it. She's out. I've had just about enough of this Club's decisions being determined by the crazy goddamn women you fuck." He looked not just at Jax, but then at Tig. His meaning was clear.
Jax barely heard his stepfather's rant. Since he met V, he'd been trying to get her to let him protect her. Finally, she had. She'd trusted him to take care of Darby. And he he'd let her down.
"You should have warned her, Jackson," Gemma's face was disapproving. "She was going to run into him sooner or later."
Jax glared at his mother. "She wouldn't have run into him if you'd taken the kid to the doctor like we talked about," he said. "You know she hates shit like that. But you ask her to do it, just to see if she'll tell you no."
By the time Happy walked in, the volume in the room was deafening, Jax and Gemma yelling at each other, Clay ranting. Hap raised an eyebrow, then turned to Bobby. "What the fuck?"
Quickly, Bobby explained the situation. Happy shook his head, remembering the broken V he'd found in her apartment, and the way she'd held it together for long enough to kill the rest of her attackers. He couldn't imagine she would ever be willing to let Darby's part in her attack go unpunished, and he didn't blame her. Still, he didn't make SAMCRO decisions, and there had to be a reason behind it.
It didn't take long for Gemma, Clay, and Jax to all stomp off in their own directions, each of them feeling angry and guilty. Clay returned to the garage, Gemma went into the office, Jax headed towards his dorm room. "Should somebody go after V?" Juice asked. "Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid."
"She won't," Chibs said. "She knows she can't take Darby on by herself. Not now." He didn't feel as confident as he sounded, though. He knew how frustrated V had become with her time in the ring, with not recovering as fast as she thought she should, but he wasn't sure how realistic she would be about her strength in the face of something like this.
"She gonna fight again?" Happy asked.
"Don't know, brother. She was anybody else, hurt as bad as she was, healin' the way she is, I'd say no." He smiled. "But she's not anybody else."