Back to regular chapter length, m'loves. :)
Thanks for reading, and for your lovely words.
Oh, also: I know I've never stated this straight out, but it's in the summary so...this is a sequel to the high school AU fic In the Blood, and this chapter, especially, talks about events from that one. So if you haven't read it...*shrug* Up to you, homes, but you might be less confused. :D
and the heavens were rolling
like a wheel on a track
and our sky was unfolding
and it'll never fold back
sky blue and black
Jackson Browne, "Sky Blue and Black"
A week and a half later Olivia was in Chicago. Tara picked her up from the airport and drove back to her apartment, Olivia casting surreptitious glances at her the whole way. She looked pale. Thin and tense and not at all like Tara.
Olivia waited until they were inside with the door safely locked behind them (two deadbolts, a chain, and a police bar) and glasses of wine poured before she brought it up.
"So," she said as they settled on the couch. "How's it been?"
Tara swirled the wine around in her glass and glared at it. "The cops don't seem to give a damn about the restraining order."
"He's still coming around all the time?"
"Yep," she said. "The hospital, too. I don't know how he's getting any work done, honestly, because I see him everywhere. Constantly."
"Does he know I'm here?"
"I sure as hell didn't tell him, but…he'll know. He'll see us together somewhere. He might've seen us come in just a minute ago." She paused to take a long sip. "He'll know who you are, and that you're from Charming."
"Is that bad?" Olivia said.
"Could be. He knows…a lot about Charming."
"Mmm." Olivia nibbled a cracker. "Does he know about the pregnancy?"
"God no!" Tara said, wide-eyed. "I mean, I guess he could, if he's really been paying attention, but it's not like I've been sleeping with him anyway, so—no. He doesn't."
"That's good," she said with a relieved nod. "We'll go to your appointment tomorrow, and then you'll come home and rest and relax and I'll wait on you hand and foot."
Tara smiled and squeezed Olivia's hand. "That's what I like to hear. How long are you staying?"
"Ahh…" She looked down into her glass. "I bought a one-way ticket."
"You're moving to Chicago?" Tara said, brows raised.
She took a quick breath. "More like I was hoping to drive back. With you. And most of your shit in a moving truck."
Tara ducked her head and made a low noise. There was a quiet moment while Olivia waited, tense and nervous. "The idea had occurred to me," she said at last.
"You said the cops here aren't interested in protecting you. That's bullshit, Tara. You know in Charming the MC—"
"I don't want to get involved with SAMCRO again."
"I know, babe. Trust me I do. But, look. Here you have a stalker ex-boyfriend and a few work colleagues. In Charming you have me. Jax, for all that you guys've been split eleven years. Opie and Juice, too, and all the rest of the guys in the club. We can look out for you."
"Ollie, enough with the full court press. I'd already basically decided to go. I figured you'd bring it up."
A pause. "That was easier than I thought," she said, a little deflated.
Tara grinned, the first genuine smile Olivia had seen since she got to Chicago. "You're kinda predictable. Sometimes."
"Lies. Take it back."
"Sorry," she said with a shrug. "Maybe it's just because I know you so well."
"Hhhmm. Well. I can accept that."
Tara fidgeted. Picked up a cracker. Studied it and set it on the plate again. Finally, "Ollie…thank you. For being here, I mean. For coming all this way."
"You're my best friend, Tara."
"I know, but—"
"But nothing. Who dropped everything and came to Portland to help me move when Ben and I split? Who sat on the phone with me for four hours when I cried my eyeballs out the morning after Ana Ortiz's funeral? Who talked to me almost the whole drive back to Charming to keep me from chickening out and turning around?"
Tara's shoulders moved in a shrug. "You're my best friend," she said.
"Yep. Exactly."
They both set their glasses on the table and fell against each other, arms wrapped around the other tight.
"I love you, Ollie," Tara said.
"I love you too."
"I'm so scared."
"I know." She stroked Tara's hair. "It's gonna be okay. Everything. I promise."
"You really think so?"
"Look at me, Tara. You really think I'm going to let anything happen to you? I stabbed TJ Flanary to protect Juice, and best friend trumps boyfriend every time."
"So you're saying if I asked you'd castrate Jeff with a dull knife and leave him to bleed out?"
Her head tilted. "If that's what you need, babe, I'm on it. Point me toward him."
"You know," Tara said, "I think you really would."
"It's not that I relish the idea of violence, but…yeah. I really would."
Olivia drove Tara to the clinic the next day and held her hand through the entire thing. After it was over the doctor explained aftercare procedures, and she ended on, "And no penetrative sex for at least two weeks!"
Neither of them bothered to correct the impression she'd apparently formed about their relationship. It didn't matter.
They stopped by the pharmacy on the way back to Tara's apartment, and it was as Olivia was pulling out of the parking lot that she began to think someone was following them. She glanced at Tara; she was groggy and there was a line between her brows, deep and furrowed. Olivia didn't want to bother her, and maybe she was just being paranoid. After a few blocks the big black sedan turned and Olivia let out a quiet sigh of relief. Okay. Way to freak out over nothing.
She got Tara upstairs and was unlocking the door when they heard a noise inside and realized it wasn't locked at all. Both women went tense.
"Call the cops?" Olivia whispered.
Tara shook her head. "Wouldn't do any good. Just get me to bed." She glanced at Olivia and her face was firm even through the haze of medication. "There's a gun in my nightstand drawer, Oll. You know he's carrying, so don't be afraid to draw down on him."
Olivia nodded and pushed the door open.
The man started in surprise—even though he had to've heard the key in the lock—and stared at them. He was tallish, mid thirties, with graying hair. Not bad looking, but knowing what she did made Olivia think he looked sort of rat-like.
"Tara?" he said, ignoring Olivia completely. "Tara, baby, what's wrong? You look sick."
"She has a touch of stomach flu," Olivia said. "You should stay back."
He grimaced and did as she said, but then he followed them into the bedroom. She sat Tara down and tugged her shoes off, then helped her get settled under the covers. Their eyes met, and Tara darted a look to the nightstand. Olivia gave an almost imperceptible nod.
"I'm putting your meds in here, okay? The anti-nausea shit. If you need it that's where it'll be." In truth, of course, it was a antibiotics, but obviously Kohn didn't need to know that.
Olivia could feel him hovering in the doorway. "What do you need, Tara? I'll get you some ginger ale. You don't have any, but your friend here could run to the store. I know you've got some saltine crackers, but maybe something like chicken broth would be better? You need to stay hydrated."
Tara lifted a brow at Olivia, and Olivia's fingers closed over the gun in the drawer. She spun around and pointed it at him, and he stared at it, nonplussed.
"Whoa, what the fuck is this?"
"You need to leave," Tara said, her voice thin and tired, but strong for all that.
"I'm a Federal Agent. You can't threaten me."
"I can do anything I damn well please," Olivia said. "Tara asked you to leave. You should respect that and go."
"Tara! Is this that slut friend of yours from Charming? The one that fucked her ex-boyfriend when she was engaged—to her former teacher? I told you I didn't want you talking to her anymore. God only knows what kind of diseases a whore like her's picked up over the years."
Olivia didn't look over her shoulder, but she could hear Tara's soft laughter. "Yeah. I think she's the one who gave me the flu. What a bitch."
He stared at Tara like she'd lost her mind, and Olivia took a step closer. "You need to go," she said again.
"Put that gun down, honey. We both know you're not going to use it."
"No?" Olivia said, her voice sweet. "You wouldn't be the first person I've killed. First person I've shot, but honestly I think that's a little easier."
"Did you just threaten me? That's a felony!"
"I don't think that was a threat. Tara, did it sound like a threat to you?"
"Nope," she said. "She was just stating a fact. She stabbed her ex-boyfriend in high school. He was a total asshole. Stalked her. Wouldn't leave when she told him to."
"It's sort of a pet peeve of mine," Olivia said.
His eyes darted between the two women, and his expression turned haggard. "I should arrest you, you little bitch," he said to Olivia.
"Do it," she said. "I'll make sure my lawyer brings up the fact that you were here in violation of the restraining order Tara has against you. I bet the FBI just loves shit like that. The Hoover era might be over, but they do expect a certain standard of behavior from their agents, don't they?"
He glowered at her, but she could tell she'd won. "I'm going, Tara. I can't believe you're letting her come between us like this. Does she know how much I love you?"
Tara let out a tired laugh. "Yeah, Jeff. She knows exactly how much you love me."
His glare could've peeled Olivia's skin off her bones, but she didn't drop her sticky-sweet little smile. "Call me if you need me, baby. I'll be here in a minute, okay?"
"Get. The fuck. Out," Tara said through clenched teeth.
"You heard her," Olivia said. "I suggest you shut up and do it."
He backed out slowly, his hands raised, and swiped his keys off the table by the door as he went. When it shut behind him Olivia surged forward and did all the locks, including the police bar, and then slid down the door to slump on the floor. She bent her knees and rested her arms on them, the gun dangling from one hand, and her chin fell to her chest.
"Holy shit," she breathed. Her heart hammered in her chest so hard she was sure Tara could hear it in the bedroom. "Holy shit. Jesus Christ holy shit."
She put the gun down, afraid it might go off in her shaking hand, and a few seconds later she heard Tara's voice.
"Ollie? You okay?"
She tried to answer, but only managed a croak. Cleared her throat and tried again. "Yeah, babe. I'll be right there, okay? Gonna grab you some water."
She left the gun where she'd set it on the floor (she'd get it later, when she was less likely to accidentally shoot someone), and pushed herself to her feet. The look on his face…Olivia shuddered hard enough to make her teeth clack together. In the kitchen she rested her palms against the counter and tried to get her breathing under control.
She had to calm down. He wasn't TJ. He was a crazy lunatic stalker asshole, but he wasn't TJ. This wasn't about Olivia. She had to keep her shit together and help Tara. Pack what she needed and rent a truck and get them the hell out of Dodge, because that guy wasn't fucking around.
Olivia had recognized the look in his eye: it was a certain gleam of obsession and violence that still haunted her dreams a dozen years after they'd put TJ Flanary in the ground. Tara was in trouble, major trouble, and Olivia wasn't sure she could protect her on her own. She was very small, after all, and not at all intimidating unless armed—and he might eventually follow through on his threat to arrest her if she kept pointing a gun at him.
"Okay," she said. "Okay, this is why you told him. For this exact thing."
She grabbed the phone off the wall and dialed. He wouldn't recognize the number, so she hoped to hell he wouldn't let it roll to voicemail. A sigh of relief when he answered.
"Opie?" she said, her voice breaking in the middle of his name. She pressed a hand to her mouth and tried to hold back a sob at the sound of his voice. "Opie, I need you."
Olivia called him around eleven that morning, and it was going on ten at night when her phone rang. "Are you here?" she said when she answered it.
"Yeah, payin' the cab now. Thought I'd call rather than just knock; didn't wanna scare you guys."
She let out a long breath. "Come on up. We're in four C. Don't ring the bell, though. Tara's sleeping."
She paced a circle around the small living room until the soft knock came. A quick check of the peephole and she opened it and tugged him inside. Did up all the locks behind him, then gestured for him to follow her into the kitchen.
He dropped his bag and trailed after her, and the second the door swung shut behind him she threw herself against his chest. He hesitated, but only an instant, before his arms went around her.
"It's okay, Oll," he said. "It's gonna be okay."
"I pulled a gun on him," she whispered. "I threatened to shoot him. He barely batted an eye. It's like—it's like TJ all over again, only worse because this guy is an adult and a Fed and—she's so scared, Opie, and there's nothing I can do to help her."
"Hey." He cupped her face in his hand and raised her chin. "You are helpin' her. Just by bein' here. You're her best friend. That matters."
She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. "Thank you for coming, Opie. It means a lot."
"Of course I came." He carded his fingers through her hair. "I'm just sorry I'm your second choice."
She jerked back, eyes wide. "What? Opie, that's—"
"Come on, Ollie. I know you'd rather have Juice here. He was there for all the TJ stuff, and I know—I mean, I can imagine—that some of this shit's gotta remind you of TJ, just like you said."
Her brow furrowed as she ducked her head. It had occurred to her, but she'd been trying not to think about it. About Juice. About the days after the attack, once she was out on bail, when she'd visit his hospital room and curl up in his bed next to him. Her head fit so perfectly in that plane where chest turned into shoulder and he'd stroke her hair and read her articles from his game and computer magazines. The naps she took those days were some of the only good sleep she had in the weeks following TJ's murder.
Opie rubbed his thumb across her cheek and she realized she'd been quiet too long.
"It's not that, Ope. Really. It's more I wish…I wish Juice and I were in a place where I could've called him. I wish Juice had been an option. It's not that I would've chosen him over you, I just wish I'd had the choice at all."
He grinned. "That's you: gotta have the option even if you don't use it."
"Well it's not fair! Sticking someone in a box and making them go one way without even giving them a chance!"
"You miss him a lot, don't you?" he said as his face went still.
She looked up to meet his eyes. "I do. But…not quite in the way you mean."
"Huh," he said. He crossed his arms over his chest and slumped back against the counter. "How, then?"
"Um…" She went to the fridge to and handed him a bottle of water before she grabbed one for herself. "You know how…like, okay, you and Donna, right? You'll always love Donna. She'll always be a part of you, and when things happen, either really good or really bad, there'll always be some twinge inside that misses her. Either you want to share it with her or you want her there to comfort you or whatever, but it's there."
"Yeah," he said after a moment. "Okay, I get that."
"It's sort of like that with Juice and me, except add to it a kind of…wow, I fucked this up so royally and now there might not be any going back, ever…and you've got how I feel right now."
"You really think, with all your history, you and Juice can't ever get back to bein' friends?"
She took a pull from her bottle as she considered it. "I hope we can. I'd like that. What about Tara and Jax?"
He grunted. "I don't know, man. They'd been in love forever, you know? And then the way she left—it broke him. Almost like Juice after you went off to marry Ben, I guess."
"Mmhhmm," she said. "But they're not Juice and me."
"Nope. They're—" He broke off with a grin. "Maybe even more stubborn. You remember the time she caught him with Asia Martinez?"
Olivia rolled her eyes. "God, do I? I thought the roof of the clubhouse was gonna fly off. We were out in the lot, remember? Lookin' at that old Thunderbird."
"Yeah," he said, laughing. "Jesus, if I'd known Jax was in there with Asia—shit, I thought he was never gonna forgive me for letting her go in."
"Please," Olivia said. "How is it when men get caught with their hand in the cookie jar they always blame the person who baked the cookies, the person who left the jar on the counter, and the person who walked in to find them…but never themselves?"
"Who you blamin' for what happened with you and Ortiz?"
"Which time?" she said with a scowl. At his look she flicked her fingers. "The night of his mom's funeral, me. Completely me. I should've told him before anything happened. That day in the bathroom?" She gave a restless shrug, but he forestalled her before she could continue.
"Him, Oll. That was all on him."
She bit her lip and looked away. "I'm not mad at him anymore. Not really."
"Give him some time. That day I kicked his ass he asked if he should apologize to you, and I told him to save it until he really meant it. I think he's comin' around, babe. It'll be soon."
"And then what?" She lifted her hands in a sad shrug. "We hold hands and sing a happy song and everything goes back to good?"
His mouth twitched, and he raised his bottle to try to hide it. "Nah. Nobody'd ever think that'd happen. But maybe you could actually be in the same room together? That'd be nice."
"Yeah," she said. "It kinda would."
He twisted the lid on and off again. "What are you hopin' to happen?"
She studied him a moment, her bright eyes probing the expression he hid behind his beard. "Are you asking if I want us to get back together?"
He hitched a shoulder. "It's an idea."
"No," she said after a long, thoughtful moment. "No, I think that ship has sailed. I've been dating a little, and it's been okay."
"Okay?" He snorted. "Sounds amazing, Oll."
She breathed out a laugh. "I just meant it's been helping. Not just to get my mind off him, but to move past him. I loved him when I was seventeen, Ope. We're adults now. Different people. Relationships have to change accordingly."
He made a low noise that might've been agreement and held his bottle out. She tapped hers against it and they grinned at each other. "To changing relationships," he said.
"Amen, my friend," she said with a laugh. "You gotta grow up some time."
Yaaayy, Tara back in Charming! Boooo, crazy stalker ex-boyfriends.
