Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.


"I don't know what I'm gonna do." Opie said quietly. "I guess that's why I came. You're probably the only one who can understand what I'm going through."

Big Otto Delaney leaned back in his chair and sighed. Looking down at his right forearm, he was comforted by the constant reminder of the love that he had for his deceased old lady, her name tattooed into his skin in bold black script. "I know, bro. I know."

The two men sat in the Visitor's Center of Stockton prison. Big Otto sighed as he thought about the years that had gone by as he looked at the younger man sitting across from him over the metal table.

It was hard for Otto to believe that he had served nearly a dime on his 15-to-life sentence for the second degree murder of a fellow inmate. Otto's hair, having been sprinkled with gray when he started his sentence, was now liberally covered with silvery white hairs. Living his life as the guest of the State of California was certainly no picnic.

Regardless of the fact that he was stuck in prison, Otto continued to have much love for his SAMCRO family. It had been a bad day when Jax Teller had come to give him the news of the deaths of Opie's wife and father, the situation made even grimmer when one considered the events that had led to both tragedies.

It was obvious from looking at his brother that the VP of the mother charter was in a bad way. It was reflected in the looseness of his clothes, the gaunt look of his face, and the anger that Otto could see reflected in his eyes.

I don't even want to think about how Tig is doing.

Otto had been responsible for bringing Tig down from Tacoma to replace him as SAA when Clay had offered him the VP spot. Clay had gotten to know the crazy bastard from SAMTAC over the years and thought that he would be useful as an enforcer for the Club and as the man that would protect his back. It had ended up being a good fit, although sometimes, with the two of them together, Otto would have to be the voice of reason at the table, as Tig was all about "killing shit" and Clay could be something of a reactive nut job if let on the loose.

Now, as Opie sat across from him, looking for counsel and wisdom, Otto tried to help him the best way he knew how. "Bro, I'm gonna give you the same advice I gave Jolene a long time ago. What you need to do is go home."

Opie ran a hand over the knit cap on his head. "I know, but how can I continue to share a patch with the brother responsible for the death of my family?" He growled fiercely.

"Look, man, you have every right to feel that way. That's some powerful shit that went down, but I kinda understand where you're coming from." Big Otto said. "As much as I love Clay, there was a time when I resented him because Gemma survived the accident that killed my old lady."

"But it's not really the same thing, Otto. Clay had nothing to do with the accident."

"No, he didn't, but I was in a really bad place. The issues you have with Tig are definitely different, I agree, and you are well within your rights to be angry, but be honest with yourself, Ope. Do you honestly believe that Tig intended for shit to go down like this?" Otto asked.

Opie gritted his teeth, and then relaxed. "No, I don't."

"Then direct your rage at the right target. The fact is, you may never have the same relationship with your brother again, but killing him is not the answer. Staying away from Charming and the Club is not the answer either. All you have ever known is SAMCRO. Can you honestly walk away from the Club, the way of life you have based your entire existence on and say that your life would be better off without it all?"

"I don't know the answer to that. I thought about going Nomad, no ties to any one charter, just me and the road, but Jax wouldn't let me."

"Good. He was right. It takes a different breed of man to be a Nomad. Most of them are solitary, angry men who can't even function within the confines of a charter, much less the rest of society. That's not you, Ope. You may have lost your wife, but more than anything, you're a family man. What you need to do is go back home to Charming and take care of that beautiful family you were blessed with. Your kids have been without a father for almost three months, grieving the loss of their mother and grandfather. Whatever shit you have to deal with emotionally, they're not to blame for it. You shouldn't punish them, and yourself, by isolating yourself from them.

"You are blessed in that you had a family with the woman you loved. I know you may not find comfort in that when all you wanna do is hold your old lady in your arms, but Donna isn't dead, bro. She's alive in your children and all you have to do is hug them close to feel her in your heart. Go home, Ope. I'll be a sad old man when I get out of here—if I ever get out of here—and all I have to go back home to is this Club. My heart breaks for you, brother, but I'd give anything to be you right now. You have two little people who love ya and are waiting on ya at home and they deserve the best father you can be, that you have always been. You're also a true brother and an amazing officer to a charter that needs you at the table. Jax needs you and together I know you two, along with the rest of the Club, will get justice for your family from the only person really responsible. When you do, do me a favor and move the fuck on. You get me?"

For the first time in a long time, Opie heard what was being said to him and it was making an impact.

"Yeah, I hear you, brother. Thank you."


There was something very peaceful about riding on the road at night.

Being on the open road at any time of the day was something that any true biker loved, but Opie enjoyed it even more, found it soothing really, riding along the bends and curves of the road in the dark of night. During the day, when everything was exposed and open in the daylight, the scenery could sometimes be a distraction. At night, however, when all you could really see was the road directly in front of you, illuminated by one headlight, a rider could allow his mind to tackle all of the shit he might not want to acknowledge in the harsh light of day.

After three months on the road, Opie had finally made the decision to go home.

He had hoped that taking a break from Charming would help him escape the demons that plagued him, give his restless spirit the chance to re-explore the open roads he had fallen in love with as a kid. Truth was, nothing could soothe his broken soul when it came to dealing with losing the love of his life, the only thing keeping him from eating his gun being his need for revenge.

It had taken a full week of musing over Big Otto's advice to give him the clarity needed to finally see how selfish he had been. Opie soon realized that Jax had been right. Running away from his shit only guaranteed that more shit would be waiting for him once he returned. Now, as he headed home from Yosemite National Park, Opie had the added guilt of failing his loved ones—his deceased wife and father, his brotherhood and extended SAMCRO family, but especially his own children. Instead of being a rock, the constant that Kenny and Ellie could cling to, Opie had run away, a bitter and broken man.

Three months away from his family and all Opie knew for sure was that not only was he still broken, but now he was road weary as well.

Pop would be so fuckin' disappointed in me.

Piney had been far from perfect as a husband and father, but at least he had never abandoned his family. Hearing some of the last words his father had spoken to him shortly before chasing his death echo in his head, Opie finally realized that Piney had been trying to give him guidance the best way he knew how.

"Losing Donna, this is your 'Nam, boy and you need this Club to prop you up when all you want to do is lay down and die. So now's not the time to second guess the choices you made in your life. I know it's hard, Ope, but you need to be there for Ellie and Kenny, give 'em the love and support they need. That's what your old lady would want."

As he turned the corner onto the street on which he lived, Opie looked at the homes of his neighbors. He noted bicycles and skateboards carelessly left on front lawns by the children who lived there. Family cars parked in driveways and garages, put to rest for the night. The warm glow of lights from deep within cozy houses as happy families sat down to enjoy a meal or favorite TV show together. In Opie's mind, before his road trip, these small slices of the American Pie life were no longer an option for him.

Now, although still mourning Donna, Opie finally understood the meaning of "life goes on." It goes on whether you want it to or not and it was up to him to make his home happy again for the sake of his children.

That's what my old lady would want.

Suddenly, his own house came into view, the only visible sign of life coming from the light on in the living room. Even before he pulled his bike into the driveway, he could see two shadowed bodies jumping up from what was probably the couch and running past the windows that faced the front yard. Opie saw the porch light come on, illuminating the front yard, and heard the door being yanked open. Cutting the motor, he heard the thundering of sneakered feet running down the short flight of porch steps, hitting the walkway and running across the front lawn, rounding the corner to the garage.

"Dad! Daddy! You're home!"

Jumping off of his bike, Opie turned and felt his heart swell in his throat as the two most precious people in his life, his son and daughter, what was left of his family, streaked across the lawn. And just like when the twins were younger and he would come home from a run, Opie found himself kneeling with open arms as they slammed into him, nearly knocking him on his ass.

As his arms wrapped around his two shuddering and crying children, Opie allowed his own tears to rain down his face as he hugged them fiercely.

Looking up, he managed a grin as his mother, using her favorite cane, had made it outside to watch the Winstons' tearful reunion.

Big Otto was right, Opie thought. This is where I belong.


"Why did you leave, Daddy? Why, without even saying goodbye?" Ellie cried tearfully.

Sitting on the couch in their living room, Opie sat back as he contemplated his daughter's angry and tear-filled blue eyes and sighed. He had known that this was probably going to be the hardest part about coming home, explaining to his children what a coward he had been.

"Because it was easier that way." Opie replied honestly, reaching out and, with his large hand, stroked his daughter's hair. "I guess I knew that running away was the wrong thing to do and it would be easier for me if I didn't see you and Kenny first. I was being selfish and a fuckin' coward." He murmured.

"That really sucks, Dad." Kenny eyed his father. "We didn't do anything wrong."

"No, you didn't." Opie replied adamantly. "My leaving, it had nothing to do with you. That shit was all on me. I guess part of the reason I left was because I felt responsible for what happened your Mom."

Kenny crossed his arms and looked at his father angrily. "Now you sound like Grandma Helen. She's a real pain in the ass." He retorted.

Ellie gasped. "You shouldn't say that about Nana."

"It's the truth and you know it." Kenny shot back. "Look how she acted at Mom and Grandpa's funeral. She blamed Dad for what happened when everybody knows it was that piece of shit MC."

"Of course Daddy didn't have anything to do with it," Ellie said, speaking more to Opie than Kenny. "But Mom wouldn't like you talking that way about Nana."

Hearing those words coming from his children, spoken with such authority in their belief that he wasn't responsible for their mother's death lifted Opie's heart.

Wrapping his strong arms around his children, Opie hugged them hard, his heart swelling with the love he had for his children as they returned his affection. Kissing them on their foreheads, Opie stroked his son's mop of strawberry blond hair and softly tugged on his daughter's sable-colored ponytail.

"Your grandmother's hurting, too." As deep as Helen Lerner had cut him with her words at the cemetery, Opie couldn't deny Donna's mother her pain, no matter how bitter the woman was. If anyone deserved to be mourned so ferociously, it was his old lady.

"But she's not the only one who misses Mom." Kenny said sagely. "Why does she have to take it out on us? We lost two people, just like Grand Mary, and she's always griping at her, too."

Ellie nodded in solemn agreement. "Yeah. There were a couple of times I thought Grand was gonna knock her out, though." She snickered as Opie quirked a questioning eyebrow at her. "Nana's always criticizing her, but not everybody's a neat freak like she is." She explained.

Opie nodded knowingly as he noted the current condition of the living room, currently littered with his kids' shit, books, games and dirty clothes. "Nobody's a neat freak like Grandma Helen." Opie opined.

"Except maybe Aunt Jo." Kenny chimed in.

"Nah, I think Aunt Jo's got her beat." Ellie said mostly under her breath, quickly covering her mouth as Opie and Kenny chuckled.

"I think you're right," Opie grinned. "But maybe if Grand Mary had some help around here—" He laughed as his children's sheepishly avoided making eye contact.

"Hey, you're just as bad, Dad. At least we never left greasy bike parts on the table on top of Mom's good tablecloth." Kenny chastised good-naturedly.

"Or stinky boxers on the kitchen counter." Ellie added.

"How'd they end up in the kitchen, anyway?" Kenny quirked his head at his Dad. "The bathroom with the hamper and the laundry room are on the other side of the house."

Remembering the last time he and Donna had enjoyed some quick and dirty loving in the kitchen, only to lose track of time and almost getting busted by their pre-teen twins, Opie guiltily ignored the question. "Yeah, she'd get tweaked whenever I left my shit lying around." Opie's smile was bittersweet, remembering how Donna would nag him constantly, only shutting up when he'd jump on her ass and fuck her brainless.

Shaking himself from the fog of not-so-wholesome, but wonderful memories, Opie realized that, for the first time in months, he could think about his old lady without his heart hurting. "Well, I'm back now, so I'll deal with Grandma Helen." He announced determinedly, while wincing inwardly. He certainly wasn't looking forward to that. "Like I said, she's hurting, too. It's gonna take a minute for all of us to go on without Mom, but you know she would want us to. She'd want for us to be happy again."

As Ellie leaned into her father, resting her head in his chest in an attempt to hide her tears for her mother, Kenny looked up at Opie with soulful and wise blue eyes. "But it won't ever be the same, will it, Dad?" His young son asked wistfully.

"No, it won't." Opie replied honestly. "It can never be the same again, but even though it may not happen overnight, I know one day we will be whole again."

Wiping away her tears, Ellie looked up at Opie. "But only if we do it as a family, right, Daddy?" She was seeking confirmation, a promise that he would never abandon them again and it shattered Opie's heart into a million pieces.

"Absolutely." Opie promised as he pulled his children into an embrace. "We will do it as a family."


Jax guided his bike down the picturesque streets of Charming on his way to Buckhead, the neighborhood in which the Winston family resided.

Having received a call from Mary Winston the night before telling him that at long last Opie was back home where he belonged had nearly moved him to tears. It had been almost three months since Opie had pulled out of Charming and had gone walkabout. Jax had hoped that a few weeks on the road would help Ope find a measure of peace. As the weeks turned into months, Jax grew steadily convinced that there was no comeback for his oldest and closet friend, that he was too lost and in too much pain for that to happen. Without ever saying it out loud to anyone, including himself, Jax feared that the only way his brother would return to Charming was in a pine box.

With everyone on edge regarding Opie's well-being, upon hearing of his return, Jax had to physically restrain Jolene from storming over to Ope's house. It didn't win him any points with his heartbroken old lady, but Jax put his foot down. What Opie needed right now was to spend his first night at home reconnecting with his kids. Smart and level-headed, but emotional to a fault, Jolene finally realized that Jax was right. Breaking down, she admitted that she needed to see with her own eyes that he was alright, but knowing how important that reconnection was, reluctantly agreed to stay put.

Having waited until it was mid-morning, Jax had pulled out of the T-M lot and headed over to the Winston home. He hoped that Ellie and Kenny had gone to school, in spite of the unexpected return of their father, so that he could have some private time to speak with Opie.

Pulling up to the house, Jax grinned as he saw Opie's bike sitting where it belonged, in its customary place in the driveway. The garage door was open and as Jax pulled to a stop, he saw his brother walk out to greet him.

Jax could barely contain his face-splitting grin, but it was hard to overlook just how bad he looked. Getting off his bike and placing his helmet on the handlebars, Jax swaggered over to his VP. Opie's once-powerful and bulky frame was almost unrecognizable, his features gaunt and, even with all of the time he'd spent on the road, his complexion was ghostly pale. His hair and beard—both long and shaggy—looked dull and lifeless.

Walking into their standard bro-hug, both men embraced each other fiercely. Years of brotherhood and friendship quickly closed the gap that Opie's absence had created between them. As they held each other a bit longer than usual, the shared emotional pain of their recent loss was so very obvious to anyone watching.

Jax, the first one to pull away, clapped Opie soundly on the shoulder. "It is so good to see you, bro."

"Yeah, it's good seeing you, too." Opie replied gruffly.

"How are you doing? How was the walkabout?"

Opie shrugged his shoulders. "I'm doing okay." He replied noncommittally.

Shit, bro. You don't sound or look 'okay', Jax thought, giving him the eye.

For the first time since they were kids, Jax actually felt himself grasping for words in order to make conversation with Opie. It was as if there were suddenly a huge elephant present that no one wanted to address. Looking off to the side, Jax wrinkled his brow as he noted what looked like a broke down bike sitting just inside of the garage.

"Hey, what's this?" Jax walked over and bent down to take a closer look and then raised his eyes to Opie, who was leaning against the garage door. "A Panhead EG. '63?"

Opie shook his head. "Nah. '65."

"Damn, but its beat to shit. Where'd you find it?"

"Ran into some guy in Yukon. We started bullshitting and he turned me onto this used parts guy, who had found it just rotting in some garage. It's all there. All the parts. It was delivered this morning after the kids left for school, so Kenny hasn't seen it yet."

"He's gonna shit his pants, bro. Hasn't he been begging you to teach him how to rebuild a bike? This should keep the two of you busy for a long while." Jax commented, still looking over the rusted out Harley.

Opie sighed as he ran his hand through his greasy hair. "That's the plan. You and Abel seem to be having a blast fixing up that old Sportster Jolene used to yank your ass in. I figured if Kenny wants to learn about bikes, what better way to start than with a Panhead, right? I'm gonna let him think the plan is to sell it when we're done, but I was actually thinking it might be a good bike for him when he's older."

Jax smiled. "Young Harry will go out of his fuckin' head when you give it to him. I've been doing my best to prolong the rebuild of the Sportster 'cause I'm gonna have a hell of a time keeping Abel off it when it's done. If he has his way, he'll be riding before he hits puberty."

"Hey, that might be a good thing. It's easier to keep his ass on a bike than off a girl. I figure Kenny will prolly go girl-crazy any day now. We've already had 'the talk' even though Donna drew the line at me buying him condoms, saying it was way too early for that shit. That it'll just encourage him to start messing around."

"Women don't get it, bro. Condoms won't convince him to do anything his dick hasn't already talked him into." He said, causing Opie to chuckle. "Don't tell Jo I said that, though. She's been stressing that shit since some little girl called the house about two weeks ago. I told her she can worry about that shit later 'cause Abel's only eight."

"Yeah, if he's anything like his old man, Jo can wait to start stressing when he's twelve." Opie deadpanned, calling to mind the 16 year old babysitter Jax popped his cherry on when he was in the seventh grade. The two patches looked at each other and suddenly burst out laughing.

As they continued to talk about the places Opie had seen on his travels, the bikes they were fixing up for their sons and their other children, the reserved and strained atmosphere shrouding them seemed to fall away. For a brief time, they were back to being just Opie and Jax, two friends who loved each other like brothers. Jax realized just how deeply he had missed Ope and said so.

"I really missed you, bro."

"Yeah, me too. How's everybody else doing?"

"We're whole. Jolene is pissed as shit at you for leaving, though."

"Yeah, I'm not surprised." Opie pulled out a pack of smokes, taking one and offering one to Jax before lighting them both up.

Jax blew out a long trail of smoke. "You're gonna to have to fix that with her, man."

Opie sighed as he thought about the former tomboy he couldn't love more if she were his flesh-and-blood sister. "It's not gonna be pretty, is it?"

"Nah, bro. You need to prepare yourself for a pair of size eight heels making imprints all over your ass in the very near future." Jax advised. "I can only hold her back for so long before she starts pouncing on my ass."

"Still punches like a dude, huh?" Opie smiled.

"A very tiny and girly dude, but like a dude, yes." Jax nodded emphatically. Besides, Jax didn't like going to bed without some pussy and reining her ass in last night had cost him some lovin'.

"And what about the Club? How's business?" Opie asked, flicking ash from his cigarette.

"We've had a couple of setbacks. Nothing too serious yet, but we can fill you in on everything tomorrow night at Church." Jax replied, and then frowned as he saw Opie wince. "What's up, bro?"

"Is Tig still at the table?" He growled.

And the elephant finally roars, Jax sighed.

He knew that it would eventually come down to this, so he compartmentalized his emotions, shutting away Jax, Opie's best friend, and allowed Jax Teller, the SAMCRO President, to speak. "Yeah, he is, Ope. That's where my SAA is supposed to be. Right along with my VP."

"I don't know, brother." Opie shook his head. "I don't know if I'm ready to do this. Big O said that at the table was where I need to be but—"

"You saw Otto?" Jax asked amazed.

"Yeah." Opie looked directly into Jax's eyes. "You're my brother, Jax, and I love you, but Otto is the only one who can possibly understand what I'm going through losing Donna. He really helped me sort out the noise in my head."

And I am so fuckin' grateful to hear that, Jax thought.

Even though it hurt a little to acknowledge that, in spite of their closeness, he probably wasn't the right one to help his friend through this crisis, Jax was just glad that Ope had finally been able to reach out to someone. Jax smiled to himself, realizing that Big Otto was two-for-two when it came to convincing loved ones to return to the fold. He still owed Otto a debt of gratitude for talking Jolene into returning to Charming after Luann died. Because of him, Jax had his old lady and kids he never thought he would have, and now he had his best friend back as well.

"Hey, if talking to Big Otto got you to come back home to your kids, then I'm glad you sought him out 'cause he's right, Ope. Charming and SAMCRO is where you belong. I'm not saying that sitting at the table with Tig again is going to be easy, but you're not alone and if anyone could do it, it would be you, bro. You're fair and straightforward and the truth is if you're gonna continue to resent Tig, you're gonna have to spread some of that blame on me, too."

"You? Why the fuck?" Opie asked genuinely astonished.

"Yeah, me, for not taking Salazar and his little piece of shit patch or his club seriously. I can't hide from the fact that maybe if I had done things differently, brokered some kind of peace deal after what went down on the I-22, things would have been different. But we'll never know that, and it hurts me." Jax said, the pain clearly evident in his voice. "Your old lady did something for me and my family that I can never repay. No amount of bloodshed is gonna bring Donna back, but I promise you that we will find the asshole that's truly responsible and we will make him pay. But for that to happen, I need you at the table, Ope. We both need to finish this together."

Opie swallowed back the lump in his throat and willed his tears to stop welling up in his eyes. "I killed Edgar Mendoza, the piece of shit that ran her down like an animal, and I still feel this, this murderous rage in my heart, Jax. What if it doesn't go away by killing Salazar? What then? Do I get to kill Tig then?"

Jax looked into Opie's liquid blue eyes. "Nothing else has taken the pain away, Ope. You really think killing a brother will? If so, why stop at Tig? How about me?"

Opie shook his head angrily. "It's not the same, Jax."

Taking one last drag from his cigarette, Jax flicked it out into the street. "Listen, why don't we just agree to cross that bridge when we get to it?" Jax eyed him resolutely. "Baby steps, bro. Right now, I just want my VP at the table, so will you be at Church tomorrow?"

Looking at Jax for a long time, Opie finally nodded. "I'll be there."


The atmosphere inside the Clubhouse was thick with tension and a little nerve-racking. At least that's how it felt to Tiki Munson, who chose instead to sit at the picnic table outside with Juice, Half-Sack, and Filthy Phil. It was getting close to dusk on a cool Friday evening and Tiki was enjoying a smoke and a beer before he had to go inside and assume the bitch role that a Prospect was expected to play during after-Church parties.

Six months into his prospect year and Tiki was pretty much accustomed to the ritual hazing he suffered on a daily basis. His old man Bobby Elvis had prepared him well, advising him to always remember that it got a hell of a lot worse right before it got a hell of a lot better. It was a patch's job to make sure a Prospect had what it took in order to earn his club colors. The harder a member worked you, hazed you, and just generally kicked your ass around meant that they saw something in you that had potential. There were plenty of Prospects roaming the lot who went virtually ignored, even by their own sponsors. Chances were, those were the Prospects that would never patch in.

He did find, however, that of all the members who gave him shit, the patches currently seated at the picnic table with him were definitely the lesser of several evils. Still pretty tough when it came to the hazing, they were at least a slight bit more sympathetic considering they were fairly new themselves and still remembered how much it sucked ass being a Prospect. Even though Tiki couldn't ask for a better sponsor than Tig, the SAA was still prone to slapping him upside the head when he asked too many questions. Tiki quickly learned how to read his sponsor and saved certain questions he knew he had no business asking for the men he considered his friends. Juice in particular had a soft spot for Bobby's kid, even though Tiki seemed to snag more pussy than he, Half-Sack, and Filthy Phil combined.

"Do you think Opie's really gonna come tonight?" Tiki eyed Juice.

The Intelligence Officer took a hit off a joint and passed it to Half-Sack. "If Jax says he's coming, Opie will be here. I just don't know how shit's gonna land once we get around the table."

"The last time he was in the same room as Tig it wasn't pretty." Half-Sack reminded them. "If the walkabout didn't do Opie any good, I can't see things being any different than the last time around."

Shit, I hope not, Tiki thought grimly.

After Opie had beat down Tig, who had refused to fight back, Tiki had been tasked with helping Chibs get Tig back to his dorm and help clean him up. Tig had been silent, not saying a word as Chibs cleaned the bruises and lacerations on his face caused by Opie's rings without comment, finishing the task by taping up Tig's broken ribs.

After that, Tig had pretty much existed on a weed and booze diet. Some days, in spite of being heavily under the influence, he appeared almost as sober as a judge. Other times, however, if the SAA could string a coherent thought together it was considered a good day. Without being told to, Tiki had taken to watching out for Tig, sometimes cleaning him up when he passed out in his own vomit or making sure he put him to bed in his dorm in order to keep him from trying to ride home. Usually, those really bad days were preceded by Tig re-living the events of Bloody Saturday, his self-hatred consuming him like a fire from within because he had failed in his attempt to save Donna Winston.

Although never saying it out loud, Tiki believed that Opie had been unfair in blaming his sponsor for his old lady's death. The events of that day had spiraled out of control quickly and in spite of his own life being at risk, Tig had done his best and had even protected Ellie Winston during the initial assault. Until Opie acknowledged that as fact, Tiki believed Tig would continue to wallow in his guilt, the alcohol only succeeding in making his depression worse.

Fortunately, SAMCRO's former President had finally managed to get through to the SAA and slowly but surely Tig was starting to make his way back. He was still getting drunk, but not so bad that he couldn't navigate under his own steam. He had been working hard with Jax and Juice in gathering Intel and tracking down any leads that might bring them that much closer to nabbing Hector Salazar. After slowly climbing out of his black hole, now Tig would have to face Opie at the table and Tiki could only hope that they would be able to resolve their issues or Tig was sure to suffer a setback.

Despite all of the drama over the last three months, Tiki knew that Tig Trager was a strong member of the MC and he couldn't have asked for a better sponsor. Tiki was really looking forward to patching in with SAMCRO and would hate if Tig decided to transfer to another charter because of this problem with Opie.

Because if he did, Tiki knew that he would go with him.

Suddenly, the four men at the picnic table looked up as they heard the roar of a bike pulling into the lot. "Shit, it's Opie." Juice jumped up, whistled loud and sharp to alert the rest of his brothers as he walked over to Opie who had just parked his bike.

"Bro," Juice called out and, with arms open, practically ran and wrapped his brother in a fierce hug, which Opie returned. "It's good to have you back."

"Hey," Opie managed gruffly. "Shit, did you bulk up or something while I was gone?"

Juice grinned and flexed his biceps. "I've managed to find a little time to hit the gym, but I think it's more like you've slimmed down a little bit. Maybe too much. Your Mom is gonna have to beef you up again."

"Opie, my lad!" Chibs voice boomed out as he went to hug Opie, with Happy, Jax, Bobby, and the rest of the brothers in his wake.

Opie accepted all of their hugs, questions and good-natured ribbing as the group headed into the Clubhouse.

Clay Morrow was waiting at the bar, a line of shots already set up. Standing up to greet Opie, he wrapped his bear arms around the younger man. "It's good to have you home, son."

"It's good to be here."

Handing everyone a shot, Clay raised his glass. "To Opie." Everyone downed their shots, slamming their empty shot glasses on the bar.

Jax reached over to slap his brother on the back. "Time to get Church started, bro."

Tossing their cell phones into the open cigar box sitting on top of the bar, everyone headed into the Chapel and took their respective seats. Surprising no one, Tig was the last one to enter and take his place at the table.

For a brief moment, Opie's eyes met Tig's. The room was suddenly silent, but Opie refused to acknowledge his brother.

Not sure what to say, Jax simply slammed the gavel down to start the meeting.

"Before we start, I want to take this opportunity to welcome Opie back home, back to his family." Cries of "Hear, hear" were echoed around the Chapel as fists were banged on the Redwood table. "I know that everyone is really glad that he's here back with us." Jax swiveled in his chair to face his VP. "I sorta mentioned yesterday that a couple of changes are coming to Charming that have the potential to shake up SAMCRO. First, Jacob Hale was successful in using his influence over City Council and other movers and shakers in Charming to get Charming PD disbanded."

"Shit," Opie said brusquely. "The fucker used what happened to Donna to kill the department, didn't he?"

"That sums it up in a nutshell, brutha." Chibs replied. "The Sanwa Sheriffs are now the law in our fair town and all the cops we had on our payroll have been absorbed and spread out all over the county. We no longer have access to them, or their Intel."

"We're pretty much operating blind," Juice chimed in. "The only cops still on the SAMCRO payroll are Vic Trammel and Candy Eglee. Trammel plans on laying low until he gauges how this change will affect him. With the Sheriffs spread out all over Charming, he can't do much for us without the possibility of being spotted in our company."

"Which definitely is not good for business," Filthy Phil replied. "It gets out that he's in SAMCRO's pocket, he'll lose his badge or get transferred. Either way, he won't be any help to us at all."

"And Eglee has been assigned to work with Lodi PD. She's been trying to help us with Intel on the CL and keeping us up-to-date on the current investigation, but her access is somewhat restricted. She was assigned to work in the burglary and vandalism division, so gang violence is not in her purview." Half-Sack said.

"Shit." Opie growled.

"Our second problem is the Sheriff's command substation in town totaling sixty cops and headed up by a pig straight out of Oakland named Eli Roosevelt." Jax continued.

"Why Oakland?" Opie queried.

"Apparently, he's some big deal, hot-shit cop up there. Specialized in gangs and set up some task force to neutralize them. He had some success in working with a lot of the black gangs in Oak-Town. We reached out to Laroy who confirmed knowing about him. He also confirmed that Roosevelt had been a big failure in making any headway with the Niners, which explains why he was tapped to patrol the backwoods of Sanwa County. Either way, Laroy assures us that he's a serious player and someone we need to keep at arm's distance." Juice explained.

"How is all this affecting business?" Ope asked.

"We've had to tweak our M.O., be more careful. After the City Council vote, the good Sheriff Roosevelt and his motley crew made it a point of stopping by to introduce themselves. He made it clear that his intention was to keep the criminal element in town in its rightful place." Bobby replied.

"If he's so fuckin' concerned about the criminal element in Sanwa County, what the fuck is he doing to find Salazar?"

"Not much." Jax winced as he saw the hard look in his brother's eye. "I don't think it means they've swept it under the rug. It's more likely that the trail is getting cold."

"But tha' doesna' mean unsolvable, brutha." Chibs chimed in, seeing the banked anger in Opie's face. "It jus means we are gunna have to work a lil' harder to get the Intel on that piece o' shyte."

"And we will, Ope. We won't rest otherwise." Jax assured him. "We do have at least one piece of good news."

"What's that?" Opie couldn't help but ask skeptically.

"Marcus Alvarez is a man of his word. He used his reach in County to take care of our cockroach problem in lock-up." Jax responded, cocking his head towards Bobby.

"Yeah, apparently there was a mass suicide of Calaveras. Seems that the four CL held in custody cut their dicks off and bled to death in the showers." Bobby quipped as he shrugged his shoulders.

"Or it could've been some weird prison sex thing gone awry." Clay interjected.

As his brothers laughed around the table, Opie smiled grimly. "So, Salazar and his bitch are the only ones for us to find?"

"Yeah, but we need to be smart about it, Ope." Jax replied. "Roosevelt knows we want payback and has been keeping an eye on us. When we do find Salazar, we are gonna have to find a way to do our shit under the radar so that you can settle the score with that POS and not have it blow back on you or the Club."

With everyone at the table nodding their agreement, Jax continued. "Before we end, I've been told to pass along a message and I will start by saying that this is all on my old lady, who has put her foot down."

"Ah, shyte, brutha. What have we gone and done now that's got lil' luvvie all twisted?" Chibs snarked as the patches around the table laughed.

"She's insisting that the official welcome home party for Sasquatch here," Jax nodded to the man on his left. "Be a family-oriented event and attendance is mandatory. Everybody will have their asses in this Clubhouse on Sunday for dinner. No croweaters or hang-arounds allowed." He explained as most of his brothers protested rather loudly. "That being said, Ope, you need to get your ass whupping out of the way ASAP or she will do it right here on Sunday."

"Ah shit, Jax—" Opie started.

"Sorry," Jax shrugged. "It's out of my hands. You're gonna have to suck it up and get it over with. That is, unless you're scared of 115 pounds of ape shit crazy?"

"Fuck yeah, dude. It's your old lady we're talking about. Ape shit crazy doesn't begin to describe her. I'm deathly afraid."

"You ought to be." Clay joked. "She's been terrorizing my ass for years."

"Kit's mellowed out with age, though, hasn't she?" Bobby defended his goddaughter.

"Yeah, right." Jax snarked, before slamming the gavel.

Considering that it was his VP's first Church back at the table with his SAA and both of them were alive at the meeting's end, Jax felt that it had gone reasonably well.

He should have known that it wasn't going to be that easy.

As everyone headed out of the Chapel to get the Friday night festivities started, Jax rose to follow them.

"Wait, Jax." Opie called out. "You too."

Oh shit, Jax groaned inwardly.

Sitting back in his seat, Jax saw that Tig had paused at the Chapel's entrance. Stone-faced, he closed the door and returned to his seat.

For a long time nothing was said as the three men stared at one another. Then Opie spoke.

"SAMCRO is my family. It's my home. It's the only one that I've ever had and it's practically the only one I have left. But I don't know if I can stay here with you at the table."

Tig looked him in the eye. "I can accept that."

"I didn't ask you to speak." Opie growled. After a deafening silence, Opie continued. "My family and I have gone through enough. I don't want to go through this shit anymore because I can't live like this, but I still need some time to get my shit straight. I left here thinking that I could do that on the road, but I was wrong. I need my family to make things whole for me and my kids, but I can't deal with all this fuckin' angst with you sitting across from me, so I'm tabling it. For now."

Jax looked at the hardened face of his best friend. "What exactly does that mean, Ope?"

"It means that I don't want to have shit to do with him." Opie declared. "I know you need him, the Club needs him, but I don't want to have anything to do with him. Not right now." Directing his next words to Tig, Opie continued forcefully. "You need to stay the fuck away from me and my family until further notice. Period."

Tig looked at his angry brother and his heart literally ached in his chest.

Tig had his good days and bad days. Over the last month, things had seemed to be getting a little better ever since he had a talk with Clay. It had really helped him to focus on what he could do for the Club in trying to track down Salazar. It had kept his mind off of his own troubles, but with Opie back at the table, all the feelings of anger and self-recrimination came rushing back. But he had to do what he could to give his brother a measure of peace in the hopes that someday there could be peace between them.

"Agreed."

"Then we're done." At that point, Opie shoved his chair away from the table and headed to the Chapel doors. Throwing them open, he roared, "Somebody get me a damn drink!"

Jax got up to watch with growing astonishment as Emily Duncan, one of the Club's more popular croweaters, literally leapt to his brother's side with a bottle of Jack in one hand and a shot glass in the other. Swallowing the proffered shot in one gulp, Opie wrapped an arm around the woman's waist and dragged her off to sit on his lap on one of the couches.

Looking at Tig, who had joined him in the doorway, Jax shook his head. "Hang in there, Tigger. It may not seem like it, but we're making progress."

"Yeah. Progress." Tig said bitterly. If progress meant having his brother pretend he didn't exist, somehow, Tig would have preferred getting the shit kicked out of him instead.


A/N: As promised, because you guys are so special to me and with the Boss Man out of the country, I was able to crank out another chapter this week. Thank you so much for your love hits. They really keep me going!

I think that it's apparent that Opie has finally seen the error of his ways. How did you enjoy the reunion between him and his kids? Do you think Kenny and Ellie will be able to overcome being abandoned by their father or will there possibly be long-lasting effects? Do you believe that Opie is starting to get a better handle on dealing with Donna's death? Do you think that Jax will be able to keep Opie from making some bad choices down the road?

As always, I look forward to reading your comments and reviews. Stay tuned for next week's chapter as Jolene attempts to knock some heads together, that is, if her old man lets her. :)