"Margaret, I'm sorry, I -"

"I called your home phone several times, Tara."

"I wasn't even on call!" Tara retorted crossly. "I take my obligations to the hospital very seriously, Margaret, but I'm also required by law to have days off. This isn't fair -"

"I'm not taking any disciplinary action against you, Dr. Knowles," Margaret Murphy, the hospital administrator said crossly over the phone. Truth be told, she had been trying to call Tara at home all morning due to another resident, Dr. O'Hara, falling ill with a case of appendicitis and the sudden need for someone to fill in on pediatric surgery. Tara, however, had been at the Teller home all morning since she did not expect to be called at any point during the day, and the Teller fridge was admittedly more fully stocked than her own.

Grocery shopping took up a great deal of time that she simply didn't have.

"Doctor Campbell was on hand, so there was no harm done," Margaret continued sternly. "But I think this may be the opportunity to remind you that just because your patients already call you 'doctor' doesn't mean you don't need to take this seriously -"

"With all due respect, I don't think you have any right to say I don't take this seriously," Tara interrupted, her voice growing slightly shrill. "Margaret, I understand that you needed my help, but I - I can't be tethered to my house like this just waiting for you to call. I have a cell phone. You could have called it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot to do on my day off before I'm back on the floor tomorrow morning."

Tara hung up the old cordless phone and let out an exasperated groan before practically stomping upstairs to pick up clean clothes, which had been her purpose for coming home altogether. Not caring if the clothes she picked out even matched, she shoved some into a duffel bag and dragged them downstairs. She tossed her bag of clothes into the back of the old Cutlass with a thud and backed out of the driveway of her otherwise empty house, heading back to the Teller household.

There were times, maybe, that she questioned what the hell she was doing - she questioned whether or not she was shooting herself in the foot and wasting what she'd worked hard for. But Jax fought for her, he supported her... surely that was reason enough? It was inevitable that people wouldn't understand, especially people who resisted how important SAMCRO was to this town, how much people respected the establishment. Margaret was one of those people.

Tara felt herself tense when she pulled into the driveway and notice the open garage door and the little red Sportster parked neatly alongside the beat up pickup truck that was reserved only for necessary situations. Frankie was home - after running off and disappearing for an entire day without so much as a note. Tara rolled her eyes slightly, not so much out of anger, but out of leftover frustration towards the events of the day thus far. Clambering out of the driver's seat and fishing for the spare key in her pocket, she walked through the front door, sending it swinging more violently than she had meant to. With a muffled groan, Frankie stirred on the couch from her slumber, and Tara felt her anger melt at the sight of just how exhausted the younger girl looked.

Truth be told, Tara always worried about Frankie - being a woman in the midst of everything that SAMCRO was couldn't possibly be easy, even moreso when it was in your blood. Tara couldn't even imagine what the younger girl was going through right now. But damned if she wasn't every bit as aggravating as her brother could be at times. Frankie rubbed her bleary eyes and sat up when she caught sight of Tara, who immediately held her hand up as though to dismiss the excuses before they came.

"Don't bother - club stuff, I know," she said with a weak, lopsided smile. "A phonecall would've been nice though."

"I didn't exactly have time," Frankie said honestly, only just realizing how difficult it would be to hold back what she knew, especially without knowing what to expect from her mother. "Things are about to go down - Uncle Jury is sending them on this grand pilgrimage or something to rally everyone against... against..."

"Against your dad," Tara supplied knowingly before covering her mouth with her hands. "Oh god, Frankie - I'm so sorry -"

"No. No, don't be," Frankie said, scratching the back of her neck as she walked around the back of the couch, past Tara, and into the kitchen area before calling out over her shoulder. "I know how all of this stuff goes," she added with clearly forced calm. "I mean, after this long, it'd be crazy if I hadn't learned, right?"

Tara Grace Knowles, above all things, was incredibly sharp - so the instant she heard that tinny, blatantly fake laugh erup from Frankie's lips, she could tell that something was off - she'd have been able to tell even if she hadn't known this girl for years. Whatever she had heard when she'd followed the boys out to meet Jury - presumably, things that had to do with her father - had obviously bothered her deeply. This was classic Frankie Rose, strolling off to hide somewhere to hide the look on her face. Classic. Not to be deterred, Tara strode into the kitchen as well to follow the younger girl, coming across her perusing the contents of the fridge. Pushing Frankie Rose Morrow to talk when she didn't want to was a lost cause, she was also the kind of person who, when so perturbed, was hardly safe left to her own devices. She had an affinity for recklessness, and in that sense was a carbon copy of her older brother.

"Frankie," she began in an unusual, almost motherly tone, walking up behind the girl and lingering a few feet behind. "I know this is... it has to be awful for you. But... you know that whatever it is, it's out of our hands, right?" Tara cocked her head to one side, and when she was met with silence, reached out and placed a hand on Frankie's shoulder.

Words were failing Frankie more terribly than ever. Tara was standing here being supportive, being Tara - and here Frankie was keeping the mother of all secrets from her. Tara was too good for this. Tara didn't deserve this. But, Frankie reminded herself with gritted teeth and steeled resolve, it was not her secret to tell. This was Jax's demon to exorcise, and even if honesty was right, it wouldn't make things right if it didn't come from the right source. After all, hadn't honesty gotten her into this mess to begin with?

"I made some coffee," Frankie said in a rapid, skittish tone as she gestured over toward the coffee pot. "It's probably still warm, if you want some."

Tara gave a small, defeated laugh - as much as she wanted to at least see a crack in Frankie's facade before calling it a draw, she also had to admit that after her conversation with Margaret a while ago, a cup of coffee sounded good. She grabbed a small mug from the dishrack with each hand, offering one to Frankie who took it with a relieved smile.

Frankie realized internally that in an entirely different life, in a life other than this one, Tara was likely the kind of person that she would have chosen as a friend. She took only minimal comfort from that fact to shield herself from what she was hiding from the slightly older woman.

"You managed to hear all of that without any of them seeing you?" Tara asked between sips from her coffee. "That's... pretty impressive, I gotta say."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far. Juice helped," Frankie shrugged. "He saw me, but I know that he of all people wouldn't rat me out to Jax and the others."

"Mm."

The vague noise that Tara offered as a response earned a curious gaze from Frankie, who was sipping away at her own coffee as well, and the sharp look was enough to make Tara realize that she couldn't simply leave such a response hanging. "I'm just wondering if it's a good thing, you know?" Tara asked, her brow knitting. "You and Juice getting along like best friends, like nothing happened - I mean, after years of whatever that mess was, I imagine it can't be -"

But before Tara could finish her appraisal of the score between Frankie and Juice, there was the sound of a doorbell, and the sound made Frankie nearly drop her coffee from being so startled. Tara walked back to the living room to open the door, with Frankie walking briskly behind, already seeing the figure in the door out the living room window and freezing in her tracks while Tara reached the door first, yanking it open before Frankie could think to dive out of the way.

"Mrs. Morrow -"

"Gemma," the older woman corrected with a curt grin, a strange saccharine expression which was a far cry from the way she had greeted Tara days earlier at Frankie'd graduation party. Gemma's gaze then went from Tara's face to just over her shoulder, where Frankie was standing and staring, expressionless. Gemma gave Tara a short nod and gently pushed past the door, into the home that once belonged to her and John Teller. Frankie Rose felt her blood grow cold with every step her mother took closer to her, her skin actually prickling when her mother put her arms around her and kissed the side of her head.

"You had me worried sick, baby," Gemma said with her voice muffled bby her daughter's cornsilk hair. "I know that you and your father -"

"Mom," Frankie said with calm resistance, slowly pulling away and locking eyes with her mother. "I'm fine here. I'm safe here. Why... why are you here?"

Gemma's expression flickered with suspicion that was well-placed, because Frankie Rose knew well enough what her mother was here for. Gemma Morrow wasn't here just to check on her daughter. She wasn't here because she was worried. She was here because she had a plan, and Frankie being here made the plan all the more convenient to carry out.

"I had a feeling you'd be here. I'm - I'm glad you're somewhere safe. I understand if you're not ready to be home, baby, but your father..." Gemma's voice trailed off. Frankie knew that it must have burned like hell for Gemma to say she was glad that Frankie was here in Charming of all places. Frankie fought the urger to roll her eyes. Apparently unable to fush the facade too much further either with her daughter, Gemma cleared her throat, glancing back to where Tara was waiting a safe distance away from the interaction. "I actually have a favor I need to ask. A friend who needs a little bit of help."

Gemma nodded outside to her black Escalade, and Frankie and Tara both looked outside to realize for the first time that Gemma had not come alone. Through the tinted back window, a figure with long, light hair was seated, looking down rather than at the house. While Tara appeared clueless as to who this woman was, Frankie knew in an instant that the woman Gemma had dragged along with her had to be Wendy. This was the woman who had all the necessary cards in her hand to turn everyone's life in Charming completely on its head.

"Name's Wendy," Gemma said, crossing her arms over her chest and shaking her head dolefully - if Frankie hadn't known better, she might have believed that Gemma genuinely felt bad for the woman. "About eight weeks pregnant and trying to kick a craving for some bad medicine. Had to get her away from the people where she's from. Suppliers and shit," Gemma shrugged.

"But what are we gonna be able to do for her?"

"Help the girl get a new start. Good female friends are hard to come by, and you two might be just what the doctor ordered. Speaking of which," Gemma said, and Frankie again tensed when her mother now turned towards Tara with eyes gleaming purposefully. "Sweetheart, Charming's a small town. You're probably gonna be her doctor - kids like the one inside that mess of a girl, they never come out the normal way, do they?"

"I wouldn't say never," Tara said uncomfortably. "But chances are, yes, she's going to need a c-section and there might be some defects that need repairing."

At this, both Frankie and Gemma gave the same pained expression, their eyes fluttering shut sorrowfully, and Tara clapped a hand over her mouth gently, shaking her head.

"I'm so sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I didn't mean to bring up any-"

"We're allowed to talk about him," Frankie spoke up first, her voice perhaps a little bit more stern, a little more angry than it needed to be. "Thomas isn't like some forbidden secret, we're allowed to remember that he existed."

Gemma turned to face her daughter and her shoulders briefly appeared to droop - for a moment, it almost seemed that she faltered in her determination, her dedication to the turmoil that Frankie knew Gemma had come to create in Charming. Gemma looked into her daughter's face and saw how quickly pain had blossomed on her beautiful, pale features. However, she shut her eyes and nodded, gulping gently.

"You're right. Thomas is not a secret. He was... a precious part of our lives. Of all our lives," Gemma nodded. "Things were different then."

"We were different then," Frankie added pointedly.

Tara felt like a specimen iunder a microscope, squirming in discomfort at the silence that followed before she cleared her throat, crossing her arms over herself. "Well," she said, attempting cheer despite the sad turn the conversation had taken, "I'll do whatever I can for her. For... Wendy, right?" Tara asked. Gemma nodded, her usual smirk painting itself back onto her face.

"That's right, sweetheart. Wendy Case," she nodded. "You won't regret this. She's surprisingly sharp - you might learn a lot from her."

That, however, was the one thing Frankie wanted more than anything to prevent. If she could help it, Tara wouldn't be learning a damn thing from Wendy Case.

A/N's

This was admittedly a very talk-heavy (and estrogen-heavy) chapter, and next chapter will be fairly female-heavy as well with Wendy now thrown in the mix.

I hope all of you guys had an excellent Thanksgiving! I'm especially thankful for the new supporters and followers I've gained since my last update, and I hope to deliver more good material for you guys! If any of you have suggestions for any interactions you'd like to see, or characters you want to see featured more heavily, drop a note in your review to let me know. I have a lot planned for the plot line and the big stuff, but the details are still being built into the story. Until next time, cheers!