Disclaimer: See initial chapter.

A/N:This chapter's set during 4.11, "Call of Duty," and features a 'scene' from that. The only warning for this chapter would be foul language and angsty feelings.

Chibs storms into the clubhouse, ignoring everyone in his aim to get to Juice. He should've known better, should've realized that the kid's head wasn't on straight even after they'd talked. Shit, after what he'd done today, walking through that minefield like he hadn't a care in the world, it'd be amazing if no one else cottoned onto the fact that he was suicidal.

He isn't even paying attention to where Juice is going, just follows him. It isn't until after he's confronted Juice that he sees he's followed the kid into the bathroom.

There're a million different things that either of them could say about being in the bathroom together, getting all emotional, yet neither of them says anything. Juice is so vulnerable, he looks like a goddamn kid. When the tears fall, Chibs is hard-pressed to do anything but comfort him as a father would a son.

"What the fuck was that out there today?" he asks when he's certain Juice's tears can be held at bay. "You trying to get yourself killed?"

Juice shakes his head, but the way he's avoiding eye-contact gives Chibs all the answer that he needs. Juice isn't out of the woods yet. May not be for some time.

Jax isn't going to like this, he thinks, but there's nothing anyone can do about it. What's done is done and wishing things were different isn't going to make them so.

"Juice, you gotta tell me what's going on," Chibs says, hoping that, here, in the bathroom with no one to interrupt them, the kid will trust him enough to tell him what's going on. "I can't help you if you don't tell me."

When Juice tells him about what's going on with the sheriff, he knows that the kid isn't telling him the whole truth, just the part of it that isn't too hard for him to tell. He wants to shake the truth out of the boy, shake him until his teeth rattle in his skull and the truth falls out of him at his feet.

"What's going on between you and Clay?" he asks, cutting straight to the chase before some idiot can come knock on the bathroom door and ruin the moment.

Juice's eyes take on a guarded look and he turns away, picking at an invisible piece of lint on his sweatshirt.

"Nothing," Juice says, shrugging, but his hands are tightly clenched fists and his jaw looks as if it's about to break, there's so much tension in it.

"So, what? He your fuck buddy? That it? You and Clay keeping the good times rolling?" Chibs asks, and by the way Juice pales and trembles, he knows that he's hit the nail on the head, but he needs Juice to say the words before he can act on it.

But fuck if he doesn't feel like a complete and utter ass for doing this to Juice, cornering the kid in the bathroom and laying it all out in black and white for him. Far from being happy that he's all but confirmed what he's thought has been going on all along, he feels sick to his stomach.

"Shit, Juicy, I..."

"It's not what you think," Juice says, and his voice is so low that Chibs almost doesn't hear it.

When Juice finally raises his head to look at him, Chibs is taken aback. The boy is livid, but there are tears in his eyes. He looks broken and angry and resigned.

"It's not what you think," Juice repeats.

"So," Chibs says, reaching out for Juice who backs away from him, "tell me what it is."

"It's," Juice says, and then he sighs and bites his lip and looks away, fidgeting with the edge of his sweatshirt,"he's..."

"Is he forcing you?" Chibs asks.

Juice stills, and he shakes his head, but doesn't say anything.

"Juice," Chibs places a hand on the kid's arm, "just tell me, is he forcing you?"

"He," Juice starts to say, but then he takes a deep breath and shakes his head, "look Chibs, I'm fine, you don't have to worry about me anymore, okay. I'm fine. I'm not going to try to kill myself again."

"That's not what I asked," Chibs says, pressing the issue. "Is he forcing you?"

Chibs watches Juice as the kid mulls the question over. Sees the different emotions flicker across the boy's features - fear, anger, shame, hurt and doubt.

"He's the club president," Juice says in lieu of answering, and he looks away again. "It's nothing like that; you've got it all wrong."

"Fine, I've got it all wrong," Chibs says, "then tell me what the fuck is going on between you and Clay and why you can't look me in the eyes."

Juice's eyes flicker up to meet his, but then he looks off to the side. "I'm just, I'm doing things for him, you know, running errands and shit."

Chibs shakes his head and grits his teeth. Part of him feels like knocking the truth out of Juice, hitting him until he comes clean. But that would be a hollow victory, and Juice would hate him for it. Hell, he'd hate himself.

"Whatever's going on, you can trust me with it," Chibs says, but he knows it's a last ditch effort on his part, that Juice has clammed up and that he won't tell him what he wants to hear.

"Look Chibs, I'm fine," Juice says, and he meets Chib's eyes for the first time since he'd followed him in the bathroom. When Chibs raises an eyebrow in response, because he knows the kid is full of shit, Juice adds, "I will be fine, I promise."

"Yeah, alright," Chibs says, and then he shrugs and turns to the door, "when you're ready to talk, I'll listen."

He doesn't let Juice say anything else, ignores the kid's hand on his arm as he walks out the door and shuts it behind him. There's no one in the hallway, and when he goes into the common room, the place looks deserted.

"I sent everyone home or up to bed," Clay says, and he steps out of a dark corner, startling Chibs. "It's been a long day."

"Yeah," Chibs agrees, and he doesn't like the way Clay is looking at him, like he wants to tear him apart.