A/N: As always, I'm eternally grateful for your review! You are all so sweet, and I love you! :D
Right, so, today's quite is once again from Mumford and Sons. The song I'm using today is I Will Wait, and this was actually the song that got me to listen to them in the first place! :D So, go listen to I Will Wait by Mumford and Sons! Now!
Oh, and
enjoy!
By the Laws of Murphy
Chapter Twenty-Six
"So I'll be bold as well as strong and use my head alongside my heart."
— I Will Wait, Mumford and Sons
He watched her. With a careful eye, he watched her. Was there any sign of regret? No. Was there any sign of psychological damage? No. She seemed perfectly content. It scared him to some extent to see how well she was doing. She had taken a life. She had killed a man; she shouldn't do this well. It was against everything he'd ever learnt about anything. It was against everything anyone had ever learned. It wasn't human to not feel guilty! Guilt was an old friend of Chibs', because guilt had been with him from the first time he disobeyed his parents, disobeyed his faith. He had leant to live with the guilt, thanks to the people he surrounded himself with. But Hailey… she should feel more guilt. She should be entirely engulfed by it, not strut around as if it never happened. All she cared about was whether or not someone would find out and if she would go to jail. It annoyed him, that she seemed to be completely remorseless. Sure enough, she did the right thing. It was a question of life and death, and she chose to live. But the way she seemed completely untouched by it all was almost enough to alter his opinions of her.
Two days after the incident, Chibs decided that he needed to talk to her. He had tried, but she didn't want to, and he did not want to push her. But today, he simply had to talk to her. He had to find out what her feelings were on the subject, and he had to know to what extent it all had changed her. So, he told her they were going to practice boxing.
The prospects were in the back when Chibs and Hailey arrived, and he ordered them to get out. He could sense that Hailey knew something was up, but she kept silent. They started out slow; limbering up and warming up. They then continued where they left off. It had been a while since he'd trained her, and he wanted to know what Tig had taught her. So she showed him. It was nothing special, almost laughingly simple, but he said that anything's good as long it's training. As he'd ordered her to repeat a pattern of hits against the bag, he cleared his throat and started, "so, did you sleep well last night?"
"Yeah," she said between her hits.
Chibs nodded and crossed his arms. "No nightmares?"
"No." Her answers were as precise as her hits, and just as short.
"So," Chibs started, searching for words, "how do ye feel about it?"
"About what?" She didn't take her focus off the bag, and with each hit, the next came faster and harder.
"About everythin'," Chibs shrugged. "Ye haven' talked much about wha' happened, love."
"I don't wanna talk about it." The sound of the impacts of her fists against the bag grew sharper for every hit.
"Ye need te," Chibs sighed. "Look, love, I know how it feels, an'—"
"Really, Chibs!" Hailey snapped as she caught the bag in her hands, and glared at him. "I'm fine. I don't wanna talk about what happened, because there's nothing to talk about, okay? We both knew what happened, we were both there, and now, it's over."
Chibs huffed. "Ye can' think o' it like tha', Hailey! It'll never be o'er. Take it from someone who knows. It will never be o'er, an' the only way te reconcile with it is te talk about it."
"And how often do you talk about your victims then, huh?" she snapped, that sarcastic trade-mark smile of hers appearing on her lips. "Honestly, I've never heard you talk of one. Why? Because you don't think it's anyone business but your own, so let this be my business and let me deal with it as I want, okay?" Her jaw was clenched, her fists were tightened, and there was a peculiar anger in her countenance that Chibs hadn't seen before. In one way, it satisfied him, because it was at least some proof that she felt something about what she'd done, but in another way, he felt worried, because he wanted to help her. He didn't want her to go through such a thing alone.
"Ye're right," he said. "I don' talk about the people I've killed. But tha' also means I know wha' it takes te lock it all up inside an' never let it out. It does things te ye, love."
"Yeah, well, I don't doubt you on that one," she muttered and continued bashing the bag.
"Then talk te me!" Chibs disliked begging, but he was truly worried now. There was something building inside of her, waiting to get out. He just knew it. Soon enough, she would rupture.
"I—don't—wanna—talk—Chibs!" she growled, letting every word be emphasized by a hit. "Just accept that, please?"
Sighing deeply, he ordered her to change combination, and just like that, the conversation was over.
¤(SoA)¤
Juice Ortiz had had many disappointments in his life. Hell, his whole life had been one big disappointment! He always tended to screw things up, no matter what, and everything he touched usually turned to shit. He was a troubled outsider kid when the Sons took him in. That Jax and Opie would ever want to be friends with the Hispanic geek was a mystery, but that's the way it turned out, and for that, Juice had to consider himself lucky. Yeah, he did consider himself lucky to have the club. It was his family, and it was the only place where he ever felt like he fitted in. Not that he really fitted in, he just… fitted better with those guys than anywhere else. At least, they respected him and welcomed him. Of course, he had to screw that up as well, but hey, that's his usual life, giving him the boot.
Even though he might have been rather awkward in any social situation, he had always been clever when it came to technology, because that was what he turned to as a child when no one else wanted to hang out with him. When he met Chibs, and when the Scotsman noticed that there were other things behind that Hispanic skull than stupid grins, he encouraged him to practice it. It would be fair to say, that it was thanks to Chibs Juice was where he was today. It was thanks to Chibs that Juice was alive in the first place. He owed that man everything.
And yet, he couldn't help but to feel some kind of resentment. He shouldn't be surprised, really; Chibs and Hailey were meant for each other. Everyone who knew them both would say the same thing. But Juice couldn't help but to feel some anger towards the Scotsman, simply for getting the woman he would very much like to have. He had never really been in love before, and he didn't know if he was in love with Hailey. Sure enough, he cared about her, and maybe even so much so that he could call it love. He loved her. But was he in love with her? He didn't know. But he would like to have that option, in case he would decide that he was. But now, that option was gone, because he couldn't be in love with someone who was in love with someone else. But of course he would be, because Juice Ortiz always tended to screw things up. He was a failure, in almost everything he did. But he couldn't blame any of them, really.
Chibs had stayed by his bedside at the hospital even though Juice knew the Scotsman hadn't forgiven him for the rat-thing yet, and he had been very protective and fatherly. Chibs still cared for him, even though he had screwed things up so bad, things might never be the same.
Hailey had never given him any leads about anything; she had treated him as a friend, and it was his own stupid feelings that got in the way. Had he been more flirtatious and more straight forwards about things—like how much he liked her ears, even though they were slightly sticking out—then maybe things would have been different. It was his own fault, really. She had treated him like a friend, and he had accepted it. He hadn't displayed any feelings, she hadn't displayed any feelings, and their relationship had always been platonic. It wasn't until he had started to suspect something developing between Chibs and Hailey that he understood that his feelings were more profound than just platonic. He had been jealous, but he knew that it would be best to hide it.
Now, when everything was out; now that Hailey knew what he felt, and now that he knew what she felt, there was nothing more to it. He would be her friend. He wouldn't let her down on that part. He loved having her as his friend; in fact, she was probably the best friend he'd ever had, and it was strange to think that only after a month or so. But he did. She did think of her as his best friend. She was the only one who listened to him, to his ideas, and encouraged him to think bigger. Or, well, she was the only one for now; Chibs had stopped doing that once Juice had turned twenty-five, or something. But Hailey listened, and she didn't judge him. While everybody else always called him an idiot—and to some extent, he was—she never did. She never looked down on him and she never laughed at him. In her eyes, they were equal. He might not be as bright as she, but she didn't let that be the judging factor. Oh, he would forever treasure their friendship, no matter if she married Chibs or not.
That was why he sat with that fucking drawing of that goddamn bomb until early mornings every day to get it done. There were a lot of little details she had described, and he felt obligated to make it as good as possible. Not that he really understood why; that part of the plan had been concealed, even to himself. To be honest, most things about her were concealed these days. It had been a week since she shot that man, and the prospects had worked their asses off to make the apartment look good again. They had even been forced to repaint the walls, several times, so that the blood wouldn't shine through in certain lights. When Chibs and Hailey were to move back in, everyone in the club uttered their concerns about whether or not it would be good for her to go back there. Chibs didn't want to leave her—obviously—and Hailey was convinced that it would be just fine. Chibs was worried, and had even gone to Juice about it. Juice had been very surprised, since he still didn't think the man had forgiven him. But he asked if Hailey had talked to him about it, saying that she might have, but she had not. But Juice could see why Chibs was worried; after the incident, she had seemed almost a bit too calm. She had been much more focused, though, on making whatever plan she had work. She had pushed Juice about the bomb, asking him every day about the progress, and the day he told her that there wasn't much left, she was thrilled. He almost didn't dare to ask what she was really going to use it for. Blowing up the documents—which would now have to be fakes, since she'd given the real ones away—seemed too simple. Besides; the bomb was no light-weighter; it was packed with enough power to blow up an entire building.
When it came to explosives, Juice knew a fair share. He didn't know as much as Bobby, but he did know a thing or two. At first, he had thought about going to Bobby about some things, but the deeper he got involved with the whole drawing, the whole idea of the bomb, the more he wanted to do it himself. It was a piece of art; the way it worked, the way it looked. The mechanisms that she wanted it to have were so fine and complex, it was a joy to make them. And he got to use his mind for technology, as well, which suited him just fine. When it was finished, a week after the incident with the Butcher, and Juice told Hailey about it, she seemed relieved.
"You are the best," she said with a smile. "Thank you so much. Really. I swear, I will pay you back one day."
"Don't worry 'bout it," Juice said. "It was actually fun making it. Not that it's, you know," he lowered his voice, "kind of a mass-destructive weapon, but I liked the esthetics of it."
She huffed and smiled. "Yeah."
"Hey," he said as he shifted awkwardly. "What exactly are you gonna use it for? I mean, I outta know, right?"
"I told you," she shrugged, "I'm gonna use it to blow up the codes."
"But you don't have the codes," Juice reminded her.
"Yeah, but Tyler doesn't know that," Hailey reminded him with a secretive smile. She then left for the backyard, leaving Juice deep in thought.
¤(SoA)¤
She had done what she could. She had reported her missing, she had helped the police with what she knew, and now she just had to wait. Hailey still hadn't called, and Maggie would rather be safe than sorry. Shit was getting real, and shit was coming to Boston. Hailey's parents had been murdered in their home in Charlestown, and since Hailey hadn't called, Maggie had no proof that she was unharmed. Even though Hailey had told her to keep a low profile, Maggie felt like she simply couldn't do that any longer. Not since whoever was after Hailey had started to go after her family. Next, they might be going after her friends. But what could she do, really? She couldn't just sit and do nothing!
She hadn't been much open about the whole affair with other people, but she had had frequent contact with the police officers as they asked her questions, especially after the murder of her parents. There was a huge murder investigation going on, and Maggie was a big part of it, since she had reported their daughter missing only days before the murder.
She had just gotten back to her dorm after being on another interrogation at the police station, when she noticed a change in the air. She couldn't really put her finger on it, but something was different. Being alone for such a long time since Hailey went away, she knew what it felt like when she wasn't alone anymore. And she wasn't alone anymore.
She stopped to listen, her chest rising and falling rapidly. But she heard nothing, nothing but her own heartbeats drumming in her ears. Slowly, she pulled out her cell phone from her pocked and dialed 911. She slowly brought the phone to her ear and listened to the signals while keeping a close eye about the room. When a man asked what the emergency was, she breathed, "I think someone has broken into my dorm."
"Would you please establish your location, miss?"
But before she could answer, a sudden pain shot through her head, and her vision blurred, and she last thing she felt was the hard floor under her body.
¤(SoA)¤
Why was everybody on her about how she felt? Hailey felt just fine. But when people talked about it, the things she wanted to forget, she wasn't fine! Why wouldn't they all just understand that? Chibs had been a pain in the ass the last week, as he had tried to get her to talk almost every night. Sex was usually a good way to shut him up, but sometimes, not even that would satisfy his bleeding curiosity. Because that's what she guessed it was; curiosity. How did it feel? How was it? Did you get a kick out of it? How did his eyes look the second before he died? It was all questions based on curiosity. She didn't want to think about what he looked like the second before she planted a whole fucking magazine into his head, because if she did, everything would come back; the horrible trembling, the pain in her stomach, the breaking sweat, the feverish heartbeats… it would all come back, and she didn't want that! It had taken her a lot of thinking to come to terms with the fact that yes, she had killed a man, and no, she didn't regret it. Because he was a monster. He had killed her parents, and he had most certainly killed other people. The way she saw it, she was doing the world a favor. She had eliminated a threat to society, and so society should thank her.
But Chibs wasn't the only one nagging; Bobby tried to 'reason' with her, as he so nicely put it, and Tig wanted to know the gory details. Juice didn't talk about it, but she knew that he worried about her. For what, though, she didn't know. There was nothing wrong with her, so why be worried about her? She was doing fine, as long as no one pushed her on the subject.
She was banging away on the punching bag that afternoon, and she was pleased with the fact that she now could do more. She had the strength to do more push-ups, she had the stamina to go longer, and she even had the skill to impress Chibs. She was progressing. And yes, she let a lot of anger out through punching that goddamn bag of sand, and for once in her life, she understood the therapeutic aspect of simply just hitting something. She carried Bobby's phone with her, should either Pertille or Chalvais call, and once in a while, she looked at it just to make sure she had no missed calls. Mark Pertille had called to give her some further information about what she had to do to access the accounts—she would have to take every even number in every account number and crack the codes they formed—and Maretta Chalvais had called several times to go over the details of their deal, and last time, she called to ask about the Butcher. Tyler was apparently furious over the fact that his most loyal man had failed him and disappointed him. Chalvais had guessed something had happened, and given Hailey a call. She didn't give anything away, but confirmed that the Butcher had been taken care of, and Maretta accepted that, more coolly than Hailey had first expected.
As she tore herself from the bag after constantly and viciously bashing it for forty minutes, she took a breather and had some water. It was a sunny day, and very hot. She'd had about two bottles already. Suddenly, the phone came to life. It was Maretta Chalvais. Hailey took one last gulp of water before she answered. "Yeah?"
"It has to be done." The British woman seemed serious. "You have to turn yourself in as soon as possible."
"But I thought you waited for an okay from Zürich?" Hailey said as she pulled her brows together. That was the plan, so why change it?
"Yes, well, things have happened."
Hailey felt her face drain. "What? What have happened?"
Sighing deep at the other end of the line, Maretta continued, "he's taken a friend of yours. Margret Ellis."
All color was drained from her face now, and her heart had almost stopped. She dropped the phone, and she had trouble breathing. He'd taken Maggie? A violent shiver ran through her spine as she thought about what sinister things Tyler would do to her. And Hailey felt empty. She couldn't feel anger, remorse, sadness, panic… she was empty. Maggie was the only person in the world that knew all of Hailey. She was the only person she knew all of. They were best friends, and had always been best friends, and now… she heard Maretta call for her through the phone, and after a moment of recuperation, she picked the phone up. "When?"
"She arrived this morning," Maretta confirmed. "Hailey, she's hurt and scared. There's nothing I could do; it will blow my cover. You have to turn yourself in, in exchange for the girl. You hear me?"
Hailey nodded, and when she realized Maretta wouldn't see, she breathed, "yeah."
"Tell the Sons to make the switch, and I'll put pressure on the Swiss government," Maretta said. "Ready everything for a trip to Zürich as soon as tomorrow."
"Yeah, okay."
"You know what to do. Good luck." She then hung up, and Hailey was left sitting on the bench, still keeping the phone to her ear.
It took her another minute before she sprung to her feet and rushed into the main room. There was no one there, and so she hurried out to the garage. She found Chibs working on his bike, and she hurried to pull him aside. "It's time," she said and looked at him.
He pulled his brows together as he took a cigarette from behind his ear and lighted it. "Time fer wha'?"
"I have to turn myself in," Hailey continued. "Or, well, you have to turn me in."
He pulled the cigarette away from his mouth as he huffed out a cloud of smoke. "Wha'?! But I thought ye'd have te get some kinda—"
"Things have changed!" Hailey cried. "He's got Maggie! Tyler's got Maggie!"
They looked at each other for a moment, and even though Hailey could see in Chibs' eyes that he didn't want this to happen, he clenched his jaw and nodded.
"Right," he said. "I'll talk te Jax."
¤(SoA)¤
Everything was settled by the next morning. Chibs watched Hailey put her shoes on, and despite it all, he had to give her credit for being so calm. He knew he wouldn't be in he was in her shoes. Hell, he was nervous even now. He knew that the French fed had things under control, but how much could he trust her, really? At the time being, he didn't trust anyone but his own. But Hailey seemed calm. She seemed grounded. She was ready to do this, and had most probably been preparing for it for a long time. When she had put her jacket on, she looked up at nodded at Chibs.
"I'm ready." She spoke with a soft voice, the kind of voice that made his heart ache, and he nodded. He walked up to her, ready to open the door, when Hailey snuck her arms around his neck. "I'm gonna be fine. It's all gonna be fine. Do you trust me?"
He sighed. "Aye."
"Then trust me." She reached up to kiss him, and he took a firm grip around her waist and didn't want to let go.
But he had to. They had to go. Tyler had Hailey's best friend, and who was Chibs to tell Hailey she couldn't do what she had to do to save her best friend? Chibs would be willing to do the same thing for those he loved, so why rob her of that option, even though it stung sourly?
They lingered on the kiss, nibbling and tugging at each others' lips as to get as much as possible from each other before it was too late, and when they finally broke, there was a moment's silence between them.
"We should go," she whispered.
He nodded. "Aye."
They had decided to meet with Tyler at one in the afternoon. He had promised to bring the girl, if they did. Jax was the one doing the negotiations and the exchange had been set fairly. When Hailey and Chibs arrived at the club house, they were all gathered in the main room, kuttes on and killer-face established. He sensed that most of his brother felt the same need of seeing Tyler bleed as him. They didn't say much, and those who did spoke quietly.
Tig had embraced the girl, tightly and bittersweet; Chibs knew how much she meant to Tig, as a substitute for his lost daughter. And Tig had also been the one who'd been most against the whole thing.
"I don't give a fuck about that fucking Maggie!" he'd snapped when Chibs had told them about the whole thing. "She put Hailey in this seat in the first place, and I'm not gonna let Hailey risk her fucking life to save a shit friend like that!"
Jax had tried to reason with him, but it had been impossible. Tig had gone away for the rest of the day, and when he came back, drunk and senseless, he'd fallen into tears. There was something about the man that was just so dysfunctional, but Chibs could somehow relate to it; he would also want to get pissed and just cry, but his conscience prevented him from it. He had to be sharp. Hailey needed him more now than ever, and during those short—yet so horribly long—twenty-four hours, they'd had several silent conversations where they'd just looked at each other for many minutes, occasionally nodding, before looking away. Even though they didn't speak to one another, their messages were still clear.
I love you. Stay safe.
I love you, too. I'll do my best.
When the hours closed into one, the whole club mounted their bikes, all armed to their teeth, Hailey behind Chibs, as they drove out of Charming. They were meeting in Oakland, where Tyler still could be in control of things, and they met by the docks. The Sons had lined up, an army of angry bikers, keeping stone faces, and Tyler had four cars behind him, and the triple amount of sharply dressed behind him, all of them generously armed.
They watched as Tyler stepped out of his car. He had a very smug face, yet there was a trace of anger there, as well. From the other side of the car, one of his men pulled out a girl, with brown, shoulder-length hair, gagged and tied. Her face was badly bruised, with swollen eyes and a cracked nose. She looked absolutely horrible. A pang of guilt and empathy hit him as he watched the frightened and badly beaten girl being hauled by a large man. What had they done to her? Was a beating everything? Or were there more damages, that weren't seen? He shivered at the thought; that could soon happen to Hailey… feeling how his anger rose, he clenched his jaw and tightened his fists, but stood his ground.
"Ah," said Tyler with that grim smirk. "So ya pulled through, huh? I did not think that of yah, if I have to be honest. But I am absolutely thrilled!"
"Let's just make the trade, Tyler," Jax growled.
"Of course, of course," Tyler said. "Send the girl over, and I'll let this lovely little peach go."
Jax shook his head. "We want her first."
Tyler laughed. "Son, I don't think you're in the position of makin' demands now, are yah?"
"Oh, for God's sake!" Hailey spat as she broke through the line and took a step forwards. "It's me you want, Tyler! Let her go, and we'll all be happy, alright?!"
Tyler seemed surprised but motioned her to come closer, which she did. Chibs was close to pulling his gun as he saw one of Tyler's men gripping her arm and pulling her away, but Jax stopped him.
"Give us the girl, Tyler," he said.
The southern man shrugged. "Here yah go. There's not much left in her, though. Think we've done a good job there." The man holding Maggie, shoved her forwards, causing the poor girl to stumble and fall in front of them.
Chibs hurried to help her to her feet, and to get a closer look, and it wasn't pretty. She was crying, and he didn't blame her.
"Nice workin' with yah, boys," Tyler said as he turned. "Have a real nice day." Within five minutes, all his men had settled into the cars, and as they drove away, Chibs looked after them, after the black cars, in one of which Hailey was sitting.
The girl tried to say something through the gag, and as the cars had driven out of sight, Chibs hurried to pull the piece of fabric from her mouth. "Hailey!" she cried. "T-they t-took her! How c-could you l-let them d-do that?!"
Jax kneeled beside her. "Maggie? I'm Jax, this is Chibs, and these guys are our brothers. We're the Sons of Anarchy, and you're safe now."