After confirming that none of the guys you knew were out in the hallway, you started walking down the hall, making your way towards the doors to exit at the front of the building. You pulled the hood up even tighter around your head, wanting to make sure that your face could not be seen by the people in the main room. As you ventured out into the crowd, you were thankful that there were still so many people around. The room was teeming with activity so you did not seem to draw any attention as you made your way through the crowd. You almost made it to the door without incident when you bumped into a small blonde woman. She smiled up at you genuinely, albeit with some confusion as you were a person she didn't recognize.

"Hi, I'm Lyla.", she introduced herself, "You are?". You cursed your shit luck, wishing this girl would just leave you alone but also not wanting to draw attention to yourself. You put on a fake smile and stuck out your hand to shake hers.

"Name's (Y/N).", you replied, "Just an old friend visiting town when all this shit went down." After shaking, you crossed your arms and lightly rocked back and forth, anxious for this conversation to be over. Lyla smiled back at you, still a little suspicious as you were acting jumpy but she decided to not push the subject, figuring maybe you were just going stir crazy.

"Well, Gemma has me checking in with everyone to see how they're doing. Is there anything I can get you?", she asked kindly. You shook your head quickly and stepped to the side, attempting to distance yourself from the young woman.

"No, I'm doing alright, just headed outside for a smoke", you answered her and began walking away.

"Alright well, it was nice meeting you. I'm sure I'll see you around.", Lyla called out as you walked away. You turned around and smiled at her before continuing across the room and walking out the door. What you didn't know was that as soon as you had walked out the door, Lyla had quickly walked off to find Gemma, to ask her about the strange woman she had just met.


You took a deep breath of fresh air as you walked out the door. Well, scratch that, not fresh air, but air filled with cigarette smoke and exhaust fumes but you would take it because it meant that you had made it out of the clubhouse. Now you just had to find a way to make it across the lot and out the gate without drawing the attention of any of the men keeping watch. Shoving your hands into the pockets of Filip's jacket that you were now wearing, you found an old pack of cigarettes and a lighter. You lit one up and placed it to your lips, stifling a cough as you hadn't smoked since the day you found out you were pregnant. Attempting to look as casual as possible, you smoked your cigarette and walked throughout the yard, attempting to find some way off of the were deep in thought, attempting to figure out your next step, so deep in thought that you didn't hear the voice coming from behind you. However, the second time you heard clearly.

"I thought you quit smoking (Y/N)", the familiar voice of Gemma Teller-Morrow called out to you. You stayed with your back facing the woman, trying to figure out how the hell you were going to get out of here now. Gemma, not being one to back down, didn't accept your non-response and stepped around your body so the two of you were now standing face to face. She crossed her arms and eyed you suspiciously.

"What's going on sweetheart? Just yesterday you told me you quit smoking.", Gemma questioned you, "And what's with this hood and jacket? It's 60 degrees outside." Gemma reached up and pulled the hood down off of your head, allowing her to clearly see your face which still showed the telltale signs of how much you had been crying earlier on.

"Shit (Y/N), what happened?", the matriarch asked, voice filled with concern. She reached out to you, attempting to take hold of your hand but you backpedaled away from her, stumbling and falling to the ground.

"Fuck, ouch", you cried out as the hand that had just been sliced up from the broken glass made direct contact with the concrete as you attempted to break your fall. Gemma quickly offers you a hand, but you pull back, not wanting her to see the damage you'd already done from punching the mirror earlier on. Your fall had gotten the attention of one of the prospects who came running over to see if you were alright. He leaned down, reaching out his hand to help you up off of the ground. You waved him off, telling him that you were alright but he insisted as you clearly were struggling to get up on your own. While helping you to your feet, the sleeve of your jacket rolled up, revealing your injured hand.

"Holy shit, what happened to you?", the prospect asked alarmingly. Gemma's eyes grew wide as she took in the sight of your hand, the injury clearly not being from the fall.

"Go get Chibs", she ordered the young man. He looked at her in confusion, clearly not understanding what was going on.

"Now!", Gemma barked and the prospect quickly complied, running off as fast as his two feet could carry him. Knowing that your plan of escape was about to be thwarted, you started backing away from Gemma. She walked towards you, but you continued backing away from the women, feeling panicked and cornered.

"C'mon sweetheart, calm down. What's going on?", Gemma asked you.

"Leave it alone Gemma.", you replied bitingly, turning around and walking away from her. She quickly stepped around you, cutting you off. As she blocked your path again, you felt a mixture of anxiety and anger bubble up inside of you. She didn't understand. You couldn't stay here. You had to leave. You needed to go and save your son which was now a mission you were going to take on solo.

"Fucking move", you shouted, drawing the attention of the other people in the yard. Gemma raised her eyebrows and placed her hands on her hips, clearly taken aback by your outburst.

"I'm not going anywhere (Y/N).", Gemma declared, "Not until you tell me what the hell is going on". She stared you down, showing you that she would not be taking no for an answer. What Gemma didn't know was that you could be just as angry and stubborn, especially when it came to your son. You stared back at her, not offering a single word as you knew she would try to stop you. At this point, Tig had strolled over to the two of you, in the middle of a Cold War standoff. He had heard your shout and was now standing between the two of you, eyes darting back and forth trying to figure out what the hell had happened.

"Everything ok here girls?", the confused man asked.

"I don't know, ask (Y/N).", Gemma answered, accusation dripping from her tone.

"This has nothing to do with either of you. You need to move aside and let me go.", you reply coldly. Tig's eyes widen and he glances at Gemma before stepping towards you.

"No!", you cry as angry tears sting your eyes and you hold up your arms in front of you, "Don't! You have to let me go. I'm leaving!". Tig raises his arms in the surrender position and takes slow steps towards you.

"You know I can't let you do that doll.", he states slowly, cautiously, trying not to upset you any further, "Where's Chibs? Does he know what you're doing?"

"No he fuckin' doesn't!" you hear Chibs bellow before you even see him. You can see the anger radiating off of him as he comes into view. He stomps forwards, passing by both Tig and Gemma, and walking so that he is standing directly in front of you. His nostrils flared and his jaw was clenched as he tried to hold in his fury. He took a deep breath before looking up at you.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going (Y/N)?", he thundered, taking a step towards you. You backed away from him, nearly tripping over your own feet for the second time that day. Chibs face softened slightly at the sight before him and he reached his arms out towards you, in an attempt to help you regain your balance.

You recoiled from his touch and screamed out, "No Filip! No! I'm leaving!".

"You're not going anywhere (Y/N).", Chibs responds exasperatingly.

"Why do you give a shit anyway Filip?", you cry out, truly confused as not too long ago he didn't want to be anywhere near you.

"Why do I give a shit? Why do I give a shit?", he shouts, "Cause I'm not gonna let ye get yerself killed (Y/N), that's why!"

"Well, that's not a decision you get to make Filip! I'll be out of your hair soon enough", you yelled. Before he had a chance to respond, you turned around and stomped towards the exit to the lot. Stomping was a strong word, you were more so staggering as your body was still aching from the multitude of injuries you had sustained over the last few days. You hadn't made it far when you felt yourself being lifted off the ground.


Chibs hadn't known how to stop you from leaving but knew that he couldn't let you off the property, especially not in the state that you were in. He held you close to him, one arm tucked under your knees and the other around your back. As he turned around and walked back to the clubhouse, you struggled to get yourself out of his arms and back on the ground. You shoved against his chest and wiggled around, trying to loosen his grip, ignoring the pain that shot through your body with each movement you made. As much as you tried to fight him, Chibs didn't budge and continued carrying you into the building. He didn't say a word, a stoic expression on his face as he ignored both your physical and verbal protests. The scene walking through the room definitely gained the attention of the crowd but everyone knew better than to question what was going on and simply went back to whatever it was they were doing. When you finally arrived back at the room, he opened the door before kicking it shut behind him. He walked over to the chair in the corner of the room, placing you down gently and then walking back over to the door to lock it. Your knuckles turned white as your gripped the arms of the chair, anxiety wracking your body as you waited to see what his next move would be. Chibs stood facing the door for a moment, his right hand rubbing his temple while his left hand was planted firmly on his hip. You could see the rise and fall as he took in deep breaths, an attempt to calm himself before facing you. Finally, he turned around to face you, eyes wide and glaring, boring into you.

"How could ye do this to me again (Y/N)?", he growled. You looked up at him in disbelief.

"Do this to you? Do this to you?", you shouted in response, "Do what to you? You made it clear that you didn't want to be a part of this anymore so I was doing you a favor and getting the hell out of town". Chibs nearly lost it at your response, charging across the room until he was standing in front of you.

"You were doing me a favor? You've got to be kidding me with that shite lass.", he replies exasperatingly. He turns around and stomps across the room, walking towards his bedside table before giving it a hard kick.

"Fuck!", he calls out as he takes his anger out on the piece of furniture. After the third kick which broke off one of the legs of the table, he noticed a piece of paper had fallen to the floor. Your eyes opened wide and you took in a deep breath as his eyes scanned the page. You hadn't expected to be here when he read your note. The look of anger quickly changed into a look of pain and betrayal. The paper crumpled, as his hands balled into fists.

"This is how ye were gonna leave me (Y/N)? With a fucking note?", he shouted. The pain in his voice broke your heart and you were suddenly second-guessing your choice of leaving this way. You tilted your head and narrowed your eyes, genuinely confused by his reaction.

"I don't get it, Filip. You left. You walked out the door. I thought you wanted nothing to do with me anymore.", you explained. Chibs looked at you, shaking his head before walking across the room, quickly closing the distance between the two of you. He held his hand out to you and you took it, allowing him to help you up, wincing slightly due to the cuts there. You eyed him warily, still not sure what was happening but you trusted him, you always had. Chibs guided you to sit down on the edge of the bed and after you were settled, he sat down beside you, facing you. You were too ashamed to look at him so your eyes remained glued to the floor. He placed his hand on the side of your face, moving your head so that your eyes were locked with his.

"I was pissed (Y/N). Hell, I still am. I could be Kayden's father and I just found out about him today. I've missed out on years of his life. Not only have I missed out on that, but that prick Jason stole that time with him.", he told you, voice filled with pain.

You could hear the hatred seep into his voice as he mentioned Jason's name and he took a deep breath to steady himself before continuing, "The bastard took my son and my girl. I was angry love. I needed some space to work through my shit. I didn't want ye to leave. I never want ye to leave. After all the shit we've been through, I just…I need ye to understand that (Y/N)." Looking into his eyes, you could tell he was being genuine. You clasped onto his hand that was still attached to your cheek, holding it close to you and breathing him in as just a little bit ago, you'd believed you'd lost him forever. After a moment, you looked back into his eyes and offered him an apprehensive smile.

"Your girl? So you still want me?", you asked him nervously. Chibs chuckled, running his thumb across your lips, before leaning in and gently kissing you. You closed your eyes in complete and utter bliss as his lips met yours, relishing this moment with the man you love. As he leaned back, he curled his hand around yours and moved them so they were placed in your lap.

"Yes (Y/N), yer MY girl. I may be pissed but I still want ya.", he responded passionately, "Hell, I need ya (Y/N). Can't have you pulling that shite, not ever again. Ye understand?" You nodded your head vigorously.

"I can live with that.", you whispered.

"Good, ye better.", he replied while turning your injured hand over in his own to survey the damage.

"Now, ye gonna tell me what happened to yer hand?", he asked you, eyebrows raised expectantly. Your face turned red, feeling embarrassed about your earlier outburst.

"Well…..you might need a new mirror.", you began, "I might have lost a fight with the one in there." Chibs eyes widened as he was momentarily shocked before shaking his head and laughing to himself.

"Hey", you whined, "What's so funny?". Chibs cocked an eyebrow before leaning in close to you.

"You've got a bit of a temper love.", he teased before kissing the pout off of your lips, "But don't worry, I kind of like it". Before you had a chance to respond, he winked, stood up, and walked across the room towards his dresser, opening the top drawer and pulling out a first aid kit. He returned to the bed, sitting beside you and unpacked the kit. When he held his hand out, you complied quickly and placed your injured hand in his.

"Now (Y/N)", he continues, "I'm going to clean up yer fighting hand here and while I do that, you're going to tell me everything…and I mean everything". You let out a long sigh before looking up into his eyes, the eyes of the man who you loved, the eyes of the man who loved you. The only man you'd ever trusted in your life. You'd trusted him with your life and now…you were going to trust him with your son's too.


It was supposed to be an easy job. Jerry, Jason, and your father were all off doing who knows what and they had told you to make a drop off to a regular client. A dealer three towns over had a regular order for years and had recently been requesting more and more product. Jason wanted you to meet with this dealer to assure that things were on the up and up. The moment you arrived at his apartment, you knew that something was terribly wrong. When you walked up to the entrance, your senses were overwhelmed. The stench of body odor, week old pizza, and urine seeped into the hallway. You could hear cursing and loud music blasting from a speaker inside and saw a stack of past due notice's pinned to the door. The cursing increased when you knocked. You heard scrambling and shushing before the door cracked open. A clearly strung out man was the one to answer. His hair was long, matted, and stuck to his face with sweat. He clearly hadn't shaved in days and scratched at the growing stubble on his face.

"What the fuck do you want?", he sneered before turning around and shushing the occupants in his apartment.

"I've got your delivery from Jerry.", you explained while gesturing to your briefcase that contained his order. His eyes widened when he realized who you were and opened his door, gesturing for you to come inside. His eyes darted around the hallway, and you could clearly see the paranoia on his face. You were apprehensive about going into his apartment, but you knew you would be in trouble if you returned home without completing the job, so against your better judgment you walked inside.

The second you walked in the door, you knew you'd made a mistake as you were now in the presence of not just once but four strung out meth heads. In that moment you realized that the reason this client had been requesting more and more product was because a majority of his had been going up the noses of him and his buddies. Trying to remain professional, you walked over to a relatively clear table and placed your briefcase atop it, cracking it open slightly to allow them to see the product but not far enough that they could simply grab it.

Before you had the opportunity to begin the always awkward conversation involving the price, you felt something cold and sharp pressed against your side. You audibly gasped and tensed up, immediately recognizing the feeling of the blade of a knife pressing against your skin. You decided that your best bet for staying alive would be to follow the lead of the paranoid man. You raised your hands up in the air and waited, trying to will yourself to remain calm and not show them any fear.

"Who the fuck is this bitch Russell?", one of the drug dealer's buddies spit out from behind you, his blade remaining firm against your side. The dealer, who you now remembered was named Russell, looked at you like he was going to answer but then his face suddenly went blank and he looked confused. He cocked an eyebrow before stepping forward, getting right up in your face. Your stomach curled at the smells coming from his body. The combination of body odor and meth was enough to make you vomit on the spot but you reminded yourself to breathe through your mouth and attempted to stay calm. Russell looked you up and down with a look of complete confusion which didn't make sense to you as you had just explained who you were a moment before.

"I'm (Y/N), remember? Jerry sent me. I have your product.", you reminded him, desperately hoping he would remember and would simply give you the money so you could leave. From the look on his face, you could tell he was high off his ass and that this wasn't going to end well.

"Just take the stuff. I'll leave. You'll never have to see me again.", you pleaded, your voice shaking. Originally you were terrified to go back home without the money but you weren't going to die for this shit. All you could think of now was getting out of this grimy apartment and away from these meth-heads. Your heart sank when Russell began shaking his head, signaling no.

"Hey man, whoever this bitch is, she brought a ton of good shit! Look at that bag she has on the table.", his friend from behind you exclaims, not moving the knife from your side. Russell turned away and crept back towards the table, thoroughly going through the bag filled with drugs. A sick smile spread across his face and he stalked back towards you, getting in your face again.

"Keep the drugs. Keep it all. Just let me leave.", you pleaded, voice cracking as you truly feared for your life.

"You're not going anywhere bitch. We're having a party, and you're the guest of honor.", he sneers. Before having a chance to respond, you feel something hard make contact with the side of your face and everything goes dark.


Close to 24 hours later, you were awoken by the poking and prodding of emergency room doctors. You were disoriented and terrified, as your last memory was of the meth heads at their apartment, so you quickly tried to sit up and run. The hands of the doctors that attempted to stop you frightened you even further and you began to fight them away. One of the doctors, a short blonde woman with black thick-rimmed glasses, an authoritative voice, and kind eyes came into your line of vision and attempted to calm you down.

"Listen, Miss, my name is Dr. Carlson I need you to calm down. You've been hurt but you're safe now. We've got you but I need you to calm down and stay still so that we can check you over.", she told you. As panicked as you were, you understood the need to allow the doctors to treat you, so you complied with Dr. Carlson's request and laid still, attempting to calm yourself. She smiled at you and nodded towards one of the other doctor's silently directing them to continue.

"Now (Y/N), is that your name, we found an ID in your pocket with that name listed.", she inquired. You nodded your head lightly in response as you still had not found your voice.

"Excellent, well (Y/N), you're in good hands here so there's no need to worry." she began, "We're not entirely sure what happened, but I will tell you that you were found unconscious in an alley downtown. Once we've tended to your injuries, the police will come in and talk to you." She was interrupted when one of the nurses scurried over and whispered into her ear. Dr. Carlson suddenly looked serious and nodded her head at the nurse before returning her gaze to you.

"Ok (Y/N), so we've discovered that you have some internal bleeding. We're going to have to correct this surgically.", she explained, "We've already started giving you some medication through your I.V. so you're going to start feeling sleepy." You nodded your head lazily, as you were already beginning to feel groggy.

"When you wake up, you'll be feeling much better.", she continued, "Oh and we looked up your emergency contact information and have contacted your husband. He and your father will be here when you get out of surgery".

You attempted to fight through the fog that the anesthesia created and you cried out, "No, no, please don't call them. Don't call them, tell them to go hom….".


Hours later, you began regaining consciousness and were met with the sight of your husband who was sitting in a chair in the corner, snoring away. You clicked the call button next to your bed, wanting someone to come in and explain what had happened and also needing some pain medication. Moments later a nurse peeked her head in and when you explained you were simply looking for some answers and some pain relief, she ran off to fetch your doctor. A few moments later, Dr. Carlson returned with two police officers. She cleared her throat as she entered the room but there was no reaction from your husband who was still passed out in the corner. The three people looked around the room uncomfortably, before one of the officers reached behind him and opened the door before shutting it rather loudly. The noise startled Jason who quickly sat up in his chair, looking clearly uncomfortable when he saw the officers in the room.

Thankfully Dr. Carlson broke the uncomfortable silence, "(Y/N), and I'm assuming you're the husband?", she questioned while gesturing towards your husband He grunted a response before standing up from his chair, walking across the room and leaning against the window beside your bed. He crossed his arms and looked at the doctor.

"So can I get my wife out of here or what doc? We've got things to do.", Jason asked, voice devoid of emotion.

Both the doctor and police officers looked at him incredulously before Dr. Carlson continued, "I can understand that you have a lot going on sir but it's important that we make sure your wife's injuries are taken care of and that we find out what happened to (Y/N) in the first place."

"Fine, let's get this over with so we can go then.", Jason grumbled while trudging back over to the chair in the room and plopping down into it, crossing his arms. Dr. Carlson gave your husband a cutting look before turning back to you.

"(Y/N), I've brought Detective Schultz and Detective Rhodes with me. They're going to talk to you about what happened if that's alright.", she explained.

When you nodded your head she continued, "When you came in, you presented with a multitude of injuries. Your arms and legs were covered with cigarette burns. There were multiple needle marks on your right arm where it looks like there were drugs injected. We sent away for lab work to determine what drugs they were and found methamphetamines in your system. The most significant of your injuries were the multiple deep cuts and stab wounds, 13 to be exact, scattered across your abdomen. These wounds caused internal bleeding which we were able to control in surgery.".

"Ok, so she's fine now. Can we go?", Jason asked again, hopping up from his seat, clearly growing more impatient.

"Sir, your wife is not going anywhere anytime soon. Now you need to sit down and stop interrupting. If you continue being disruptive, my partner and I will escort you out.", Detective Schultz warned. Jason scowled at the officers and rolled his eyes before settling back down in the chair. While Detective Schultz kept a close eye on your husband, Detective Rhodes began telling you what they knew so far. They informed you that you had been found unconscious in an alley. The garbage men had found you while they were doing their morning pick up and had quickly called 911. The police had been searching for any clues as to what had happened but as you were dumped in an alley, there was almost too much debris to go through, making the exploration of the scene relatively useless. There were also no witnesses that were willing to come forward to speak about what they had seen so they were relying on you to give them information about what had happened to you and how you had sustained your injuries. When the detective began asking you questions about what you had remembered, you stole a glance at your husband whose eyes were boring into you, warning you not to speak a word. The detectives picked up on the interaction and Detective Schultz made a move to stand in the way of Jason's line of vision so that the two of you could no longer see each other.

"(Y/N), the people who did this are dangerous. We can't let what happened to you happen to anyone else. You need to tell us anything you remember. Even the most insignificant detail can help us bring them in.", Detective Rhodes urged you. You shrugged your shoulders and shook your head.

"I'm sorry.", you croaked, "I really don't remember much that could be helpful. I was driving through town and stopped at a rest stop to use the bathroom. After coming back to my car, two men were there. I tried to run but they overpowered me and I was knocked unconscious. The next thing I remember is waking up here." You looked up at the officers, hoping they would believe your lies as you didn't want to get in even more trouble with Jason and your father. The detectives looked back at you suspiciously. They could tell that you weren't being entirely truthful but they also had a feeling that the angry man in the corner had something to do with it. They informed you that they would look into this theory but that they would be in touch to follow up. With that, the two detectives exited the room, but not before slipping you their business cards and quietly conversing with Doctor Carlson.

When the detectives left the room, the doctor continued reviewing your medical charts with you. She informed you that while they would be uncomfortable and you would need to take it easy to avoid worsening them, that the burns on your arms and the wounds on your abdomen would heal with time. She had prescribed you a medicated cream to put on your wounds to avoid infection and to quicken the healing rate. One of the more serious consequences of your attack could come from the multiple needle pricks they had found along your arm, where the assailants had injected drugs into your system. There was no way of knowing whether the needles that were used were clean or not, so in the possibility that a dirty needled had transmitted some sort of illness, the doctors were starting you on a round of anti-retro virals. All of this information at once was overwhelming, so you simply sat in bed nodding your head along to what the doctor was saying, trying to take it all in.

"Now there is another serious matter to discuss.", the doctor continued with an increasingly serious tone, "It is imperative that we recognize the impact this could have on the fetus."

"The fetus?!", you shouted out, in complete and utter shock. This alerted Jason as well and he quickly stood up from his chair and walked over to where the doctor was standing. Dr. Carlson seemed taken aback by his sudden movement and took a step away from the imposing man.

"The fetus as in she's pregnant?", he asked. The doctor looked between the two of you confused before looking at the paperwork in her hands.

"Yes, according to your charts, you're about 12 weeks pregnant.", she confirmed, "I'm assuming this means you weren't aware".

"No, I had no idea.", you whispered, shaking your head in disbelief, tears beginning to fall from your eyes as you became overwhelmed. Jason simply shook his head and stalked to the corner of the room, muttering to himself. Seeing your look of distress, and the behavior of your husband, Dr. Carlson took a step towards you and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Don't worry (Y/N), we're going to do absolutely everything in our power to make sure both you and your baby are healthy.", she assured you, "Thankfully none of the puncture wounds along your abdomen pierced the skin far enough to hurt your child. However, we will need to monitor both you and the baby throughout your pregnancy to observe the impact of the medication on the both of you and to watch for any symptoms of the diseases we're looking out for. I'm going to set you up with Dr. Simmons a doctor in your town who will take care of your prenatal care along with Dr. Boyd who is one of the leading specialists in the area on HIV/AIDS. We're not sure if you were actually infected by the virus, but in a situation like this, it's better to be safe than sorry and we want to be proactive".

The rest of your conversation with the doctor and your time at the hospital was a complete blur. All you could focus on was the thought of the child growing inside of you. You placed your hand on your stomach and looked down, caressing the skin there. You hadn't been trying to get pregnant, in fact, you had actively been trying to avoid the situation, but here you were. This child was your everything now and you would do anything to keep your baby safe and to get him away from the jackass sitting across the room. You were going to save your child from this life, no matter what the cost.