Another chapter here, friends! And a special HUGE thank you to Ambrosia Rush, who is awesome in every way! Thank you so much for taking the time to review and give feedback on every chapter. You are fanfreakintastic.

Jax's bike pulled up next to Filip's, exactly where she told him it would be. If he was surprised that she had been right, he hid it very well.

"Are you armed, Darlin?" he asked her.

"I am now," she said, pulling a gun from the holster on his bike. "And don't call me Darlin. I will have him call you as soon as we get back safely."

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you? It don't feel right, leaving you on your own," he asked. She appreciated his concern, she really did, but she would be fine on her own.

"I'm not alone, Jax. My husband is just over there, past that tree, actually. I will be fine. He will be fine. You can go," Fiona replied, sliding the gun into her jacket and turning to walk away.

She made her way through the cemetery, past the tree, and found him exactly where she thought she would. He hadn't noticed her yet, so she stopped for a moment and just looked at him. She didn't see his tired face or his scars when she saw him. All she could see was the same big brown eyes she fell in love with and a face that just wanted a smile on it; the same hair that was always getting in his eyes, the same lips that were just so good at tempting her. He was and always would be her Filip.

She made her way toward him, stopping at the very first grave she came to in the Telford plot, her son's. She placed her hand on the cold stone, remembering the boy who had looked so much like his father, the boy who hadn't even lasted a full day in this world. She often wondered how their lives would have been different if their boy had been born healthy, but she knew that there was no sense going down that road. What was done, was done. She kept her hand on the headstone for a moment, giving a tender prayer for the boy that they had loved so, so much, and that was how Filip found her when he looked up.

He hadn't realized it until he looked up and saw her standing there, but she was what he had really been waiting for, what he had needed this whole time. They didn't say anything to each other. He just watched her as she kissed her hand and placed it on the headstone before walking towards him. She sat down next to him and he breathed just a little bit easier, now that he was in her presence and could see for himself that she was alright. She took one of his hands in both of her small ones, raising it to her lips and kissing it. She looked at those eyes, marveling at how they never changed, never lost their kindness.

"I am so sorry, Love," she whispered to him.

That was all it took. She watched that face she loved crumble. Her Filip was not a man who cried easily, nor was he a man who accepted comfort from just anybody. He needed this, though, and she was just glad that she could do this for him. Fiona wrapped her arms around him and just let him cry. It was only a matter of moments before she was crying, too. This man, her husband, had lost nearly everything. They were in a cemetery, surrounded by the graves of his parents, his siblings, even his son. Because of her, he had lost his home, his daughter, his wife, his friends, and very nearly his life. He had given so much of himself for her, for their family. Then and there, sitting on the cold ground in a cemetery, Fiona made a silent promise. She promised that she was going to make it up to him, somehow. She had to find a way.

She held onto him for a long time, until both of their tears dried. Even then, she didn't let go. She wanted to be close to him, to keep him as close to her as possible for as long as she could. Eventually, he lifted his head up and met her eyes. He leaned in and gave her a short, but intensely sweet kiss.

"Thanks. I'm sorry," he said, his voice rough as gravel.

"For what, Love? You owe me no apologies. After all the times you have been there for me, you owe me nothing," she told him, leaning her forehead against his. Fiona knew that he was taking this very hard, knew that he would take all of the responsibility and blame on his own shoulders. "You know, Filip, that none of this is your fault? You didn't cause any of this?"

"Fiona.." he started, looking away from her. She stopped him, gently using her hand to force his eyes back to hers.

"Filip. You didn't do any of this. You can't blame yourself for any of it, no way. This is all Jimmy, all of it. If, by extension, you want to blame me, that I can understand, but not you. You are completely off the hook here," she declared firmly, leaving absolutely no room to argue.

"You think I blame you? You think that this is your fault?" he asked here, looking completely alarmed.

"I said I wouldn't blame you if you did. It was me that brought him in to our lives. Regardless of the hard time we were having, he was my choice. We talk about this yesterday. I am not going to forgive myself overnight, but I will try. Neither of us wanted this to happen, but you blaming yourself is out of the question," she told him, as gently as she could.

He nodded, but was quiet for a while. She wished, not for the first time, that she could read his mind. What she wouldn't give for just a little bit of insight into his thoughts. They had known each other for most of their lives, but sometimes, he was still a closed book to her. She knew that eventually, he would open up, so she just held his hand and waited patiently.

"I should have been there today, Fi. I shouldn't have left you alone. He never should have gotten that close," his words surprised her. He wasn't looking at her, but was staring at the ground in front of him. She couldn't believe how stubborn he was, always had been.

"If you had been there today, Love, it would be you with a bullet through your skull, and not Michael Casey. We both know that he would have killed you with glee, and Kerryanne and I, we wouldn't have lasted even a minute after that. I thank God that you weren't there today. Besides, you didn't leave us alone. You left us with the most ferocious of guard dogs. Gemma and Maureen are not to be trifled with," she told him seriously, but with a smile on her face.

"He's not going to get near you again," he promised her, his voice stern, and she believed him.

"I know. You are always taking care of us. Besides, Gemma nearly killed him. After today, I don't think he will be very eager to be seen around town. Let's not worry about him right now, though. Let's have a drink for our nephew, and the rest of these Telfords," she said, taking the flask out of her purse and handing it to him.

He held her hand as he took a long slow drink from the flask, before handing to it her. She took her drink, and took a moment to remember each and every person here. Some of them she had loved, some of them she had hated, but all of them had helped make her husband the man he was, and she was thankful for that. She idly wondered where Padraic would be laid, and hoped it would be on the end, next to her own son.

Together, they finished the whiskey in the flask. She put it away and turned to him. He looked more calm, like he was only carrying half the world on his shoulders. She brushed the hair out of his eyes and said, "We should go. I left that Juice boy with our Kerryanne. It will be a miracle if she hasn't torn him apart."

He laughed at that, knowing in his brain that Juice would protect Kerryanne, but amusing himself with the idea of Kerry clawing the unsuspecting boy to death. "I should go to Ashby's. I need to meet with the boys."

"Aye, but you need to come to the church first. Your daughter has been going crazy. She needs to see you Filip, needs to know that you are okay," she told him, adamantly.

"Yeah, okay. Let's go," he said, standing up and pulling her to her feet. Their hands were clasped together as they walked past all of the graves, both of their eyes lingering on their boy's as they walked past. He didn't let go of her hand until they reached his bike. She climbed on behind him and held him tightly as they sped off towards their little girl.