Author's Note: Sorry for the wait guys. For some reason, this chapter didn't want to get written. I still feel like it's a little all over the place, but I'm hoping I'm just being too hard on myself (which I often tend to be guilty of). Also, this is so filler-y and while I think it's necessary, I'm still not a huge fan of filler. No matter. Let me just say my thank yous and get out of here. As always, thank you to everyone who took the time to read/favorite/follow/review. Special thanks to OnTheWildside, FuckMyLife1986, mrsreedus69 for the kind reviews.

Disclaimer: I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own' is U2. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby and Amber.

'Listen to me now… I need to let you know… you don't have to go it alone...'

Tig shoved open the door to his dorm, almost disappointed to find it empty. He wouldn't have minded another go round with the girl, something to pass the time, blow off a little steam. He kicked the door shut, shrugging out of his cut and gently placing it on the edge of the bed as he made his way to the bathroom.

He turned the spigot of the sink, letting the cold water run before shoving his hands underneath the stream and splashing his face. He rubbed at his cheeks before letting his eyes open as he regarded his reflection in the mirror, water dripping from his chin.

I won't let anything else happen to my family… and that includes Shelby.

The words rang through Tig's head, making him shudder. He knew what that meant… Shelby was officially off limits, Opie was finally stepping up and laying his claim. He couldn't help but wonder if the man was aware of what had happened between them the night before, if that was the reason to finally put some sort of verbal ownership.

He shook his head. No, Opie couldn't know. If he did, that would have been a whole other conversation, most likely one that included fists and some spilled blood. And really, who would have told him?

Tig let out a sigh, his palms flat on the sink, his head hanging between his shoulders. He felt a gnawing in his stomach, a feeling he wasn't used to. Guilt. He wasn't used to feeling guilty, but he kept feeling it more and more ever since he'd been the one to take out Donna, first with Opie and now that Shelby was in town…

He'd tried to brush it off. Shit happened, mistakes were made, he knew how life worked. But he wasn't usually the one making those sort of mistakes, he wasn't some sort of fuckin' amateur. He tried to act as though he wasn't bothered, it was just part of the job. Collateral damage, innocent people sometimes managed to get caught in the fire… and it had all worked out when they found out that Opie wasn't a rat, it was just a shame that Donna had already paid that bill.

But when Tig had woken up, Shelby asleep beside him, he'd known that it wasn't just part of the job, it was still complicated. He hadn't been able to stay beside her, knowing that he was the reason she was back in town, he was the reason Opie was without a wife, his kids left without a mother.

The darker man shook his head, drops of water flinging across the bathroom before dragging his palm over his face. There was nothing he could do now except move on, push through to the other side. Once they got rid of the Mayan that he and Clay had pinned it on, everything would be fine… Donna's supposed killer would be dead and buried, the club could start to heal...

"Tiggy, you in there?"

He snatched a towel off the hook and walked back into the room at the sound of Clay's voice on the other side of the door. He wiped the terry over his face before throwing it on the bed and pulling open the door. "What's up, brother?"

The older man ducked into the room, jerking his chin towards the door. Tig took the hint, shutting and leaning against it, watching his old friend as he wearily lowered himself to the edge of the mattress. "You doin' alright, Clay?"

The President nodded. "Yeah, I'm good, just needed a few," he replied, lifting his eyes to meet Tig's. "Trammell should have everything in place for us by tomorrow, we should be in the clear."

The Sergeant gave a nod, lifting his foot to lay flat against the wood behind him, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "How we gonna play it?"

Clay rubbed a hand over his face, dragging his fingers down his chin. "Exactly what I said in there… We'll find him, let Opie take him out."

Tig nodded in full agreement. "Something else bothering you?"

The lighter man exhaled a breath. "Not sure how much longer I can keep a handle on our VP, if I'm honest." He shook his head. "That kid is pushin' me…"

A scowl pulled at the other man's mouth as he took a seat next to his old friend. "Would be a lie if I tried to tell you I didn't notice," he admitted. "And I don't think I'm the only one."

Shelby sighed, curling up on the couch, her eyes on the television, but not really noticing what happening on the screen in front of her.

"What are you doing home? Thought you would be with Opie."

The brunette lifted her head to see Amber giving her a look of confusion in the doorway. She pushed herself to a sitting position and shrugged. "He called a couple hours ago and cancelled on me," she replied. "I guess he sent the kids off with his mom… he didn't sound too good, but we really didn't talk all that long, didn't give me a chance to ask."

The blonde tossed her bag onto her recliner before falling onto the couch, her feet propped on the coffee table. "Probably better that way, right?"

Shelby raised an eyebrow, glancing at her. "And that means?"

Amber pointed at her, moving her finger up and down. "Might give you a little time to heal… or at least figure how to cover those up. Can't imagine Opie would let you get away without asking a few questions you'd rather not answer."

Her mouth turned down in a frown, hissing as her thumb moved over the ragged cut on her throat. "Fair point," she admitted, glancing at the digit to be sure she hadn't reopened the wound.

"You gonna tell me?"

Shelby pushed herself up off the couch, Tig's button-up brushing the top of her thighs as she walked to the kitchen. "Tell you what?" she replied, pulling open the refrigerator and grabbing a soda.

The porn star shrugged, leaning against the opening to her kitchen. "I dunno, anything? Maybe?"

The brunette popped the tab and took a swallow. "You wanna clarify?"

"Shelby, c'mon," the blonde almost pleaded. "You show up after 10 years in the middle of the night on my doorstep, a bag over your shoulder, telling me you need a place to stay but you don't tell me why or how long. Don't get me wrong, I've missed you and I'm thrilled you're back, but I need you to give me something, especially if you're going to be calling me to pick you up at the SAMCRO clubhouse looking as though you got into some sort of knife fight."

Shelby bit her lower lip, leaning back against the counter and avoiding her friend's stare. She'd known she was on borrowed time with Amber if she planned on staying with her. While her friend didn't push, there was only so much that was fair and she was more than aware that she had crossed over that line.

"I'm not trying to push you, but if you can't give me some sort of idea of what to expect…" The blonde let out a groan, pressing her hands to her face. "Fuck, why are you putting me in this position?"

Shelby lifted her head, raising an eyebrow. "What position?"

Amber pressed her palms together in front of her mouth. "If you can't talk to me, I can't let you stay here," she finished. "You're throwing my life into a whole upheaval and I can't afford to do that unless you tell me what I'm dealing with here."

"So, you're just gonna kick me out? Amber, where the hell am I gonna go?" Shelby couldn't believe what she was hearing. She'd figured that her old friend would press her at some point due to the circumstances, but she'd never dreamed that she'd be forcing her out like this.

The blonde sighed, running her fingers through her blonde curls. "I'm not 'kicking you out'," she argued. "All I'm asking is for you to give me something."

Shelby chewed her lower lip, her fingers tapping against the can. "Can you give me some time?"

Amber's eyes narrowed. "I've given you time," she replied, a note of exasperation in her tone. "How much more can I possibly give you?"

The brunette sighed. "Just give me another week, A," she pleaded. "If I can't make myself tell you everything in a week, I'll find somewhere else to go."

The porn star regarded her carefully for several beats before slowly nodding. "Fine, a week," she agreed. "But you have to figure out the vehicle situation before that," she reasoned. "I have a schedule and I can't keep chauffeuring you, okay?"

Shelby nodded. "Alright, I'll talk to Opie about it, see if I can't find a temporary ride."

"Good." Amber crossed the kitchen and pulled her friend into a hug. "You know I love you, I just need you to let me help you," she murmured, holding her tight.

The brunette slowly returned the hug, squeezing her eyes shut at the sting of tears. "I know," she whispered.

God, she was beautiful.

Opie loosely held the picture in his hand, his thumb tracing her face. Donna had looked so beautiful at their wedding… she was gorgeous always, but the day her last name went from Lerner to Winston… she'd been especially stunning.

He carefully set the frame down on the couch beside him, leaning his head back to fix his eyes on the ceiling. He shouldn't have been at table tonight. He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to have to face that Donna was gone all over again, talk about who may or may not have done it. Did it really matter? As much as he wanted to fill her killer's body with bullets, he knew in the end it wouldn't bring his wife back.

He really thought he'd been getting better about it, that he'd had enough time. Especially having Shelby back home. She'd been able to distract him, make him focus on something other than what his life had been for the past several weeks. But all that had been for nothing as soon as he sat with his brothers.

"Thought you had Shelby watch."

Opie tilted his head to see Jax leaning in his doorway, lifting a lighter to his cigarette. "She'll be fine for a night," he replied, moving his eyes back to the ceiling.

He felt his friend take a seat next to him on the couch, his feet lifting to rest on the coffee table. "Not the way you made it seem at the table tonight," the blond pointed out. "You might as well have stamped your name over the girl."

"Wasn't like that," Opie replied, sinking lower into the cushion, blindly reaching out to take the cigarette Jax offered and took a drag. "Just didn't want some idiot Prospect thinking they could get close to her."

The VP scoffed, taking the cylinder back and slipping it between his lips. "Right, I'm sure that's all it was." Jax glanced over at his old friend. "You alright, Op? You left pretty quick after the gavel..."

Opie shook his head, but didn't reply, his gaze still fixed on the ceiling. He knew Jax was pushing for him to get back to normal and he really had been trying, but he just felt so lost and he wasn't sure how to find his way out.

"Opie?"

He glanced over as he felt an elbow in his side, Jax giving him a look of concern. "I'll be alright, I just think I need to be alone tonight," he admitted, shoving himself off the couch.

The blond frowned, pushing himself to his feet and running a hand through his hair. "You sure that's what you need?"

Before Opie could reply, Jax's pre-paid went off from inside his cut. With a grunt, he reached in and pulled the phone to his ear. "Yeah?"

The taller man took that as his cue to make his way to his darkened kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge. As he went to close the door, his fingers tightened, taking notice of a few older tupperware containers of food that he remembered Donna preparing the day before she was killed. He remembered watching her flit around the kitchen, taking advantage of the fact that they were home, no longer in ATF custody. He felt a tug at his heart as he remembered the smile she gave him when he'd asked if she was cooking for an army. He recalled the way her lips felt on his when she'd kissed him to cut off his questions…

"I gotta head to St. Thomas to pick up Tara."

Opie glanced over his shoulder as Jax's voice interrupted his memories. "Don't let me stop you," he replied, twisting the cap off his beer and taking a swallow, barely tasting the beverage.

The blond watched his old friend for several beats. "She'd want you to be okay," he finally said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You know that right?"

"Just go, Jax," Opie replied.

The VP gave a nod, clapping his friend on the shoulder and pulling him into a hug that Opie halfheartedly returned. With one final pat on the back, Jax made his way out of the house.

Opie let out a sigh as he heard the motorcycle pull away, reaching into his cut and pulling out his own phone. He scrolled through his contacts until he landed on 'S'. He stared at Shelby's number for several moments before pressing send and lifting the phone to his ear, sitting at his kitchen table in the dark, his beer in front of him as the call connected.