**I own nothing you recognize**

"Hi, Mr. Knowles." Jackson shoved his hands into his pockets- he wasn't sure what to do with them, really. He'd hoped Tara would be the one to answer the door; it had been almost a week since either he or Harry had seen her and he was anxious to spend time with his friend again. She'd missed the last days of school before Thanksgiving break and when the boys had ridden by her house afterwards, it had been dark. It was only days later- when they'd noticed the Cutlass parked next to Tara's mother's little car in the Knowles driveway again- that either Jackson or Harry had bothered to knock.

Rick nodded his greeting at Jackson and raised a hand to Harry, who had elected to hover in the background, never as comfortable around parents as Jackson.

"Hi boys. Tara's, uh, helping Grace get the Christmas things out." Crap. Jackson deflates, a bit. He'd become accustomed to spending time with Harry and Tara over school breaks; it appeared that this one would be different. Harry, however, nudged him in the back- a signal Jackson instantly recognized as urging him to say something. Yeah yeah, keep your pants on.

"Do you think she'd want to come out for a while? We were just getting ready to ride over to the park…" Jackson's voice trailed off as Tara's father looked over his shoulder; he could hear soft music playing in the background and Tara's unmistakable laughter. When Rick turned back to them, his eyes were sad and Jackson immediately regretted asking. "I'm sorry. We didn't want to bother you guys. Can… can you just tell her we say hi?" Rick had just opened his mouth to reply when Jackson hears a voice from inside the house.

"Daddy? Who's here?" He couldn't help but break into a grin at the sound of Tara's voice; Rick smiled faintly and moved aside so Tara- who was now standing in the doorway to the Knowles kitchen- could see. A smile bloomed slowly on her face, too, and she moved to stand next to her father in the doorway.

"Hi Jackson," she murmured. "Hi, Harry." Jackson nodded in greeting as Harry mumbled his own; he could see, though, that Tara's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Though the both of them had hugged and comforted Tara through months' worth of developments in her mother's treatment, he didn't know how to do this- what to say with her father standing right there. The silence grew, slowly, as he surveyed Rick's troubled eyes, Tara's struggle to maintain a cheerful grin, and Harry's nervous shuffling behind him.

"You weren't at school this week," Jackson offered finally- uselessly. Tara shook her head, letting the grin slip away.

"No, we had to take Mom to St. Thomas on Sunday. I wanted to stay with her and Daddy…" she paused and raised her eyes to her father, who was leaning against the doorframe. "Daddy said it would be OK if I missed just these couple days." Jackson nodded, and from behind him came Harry's voice, which caused him to jump slightly.

"There wasn't any homework or anything. We just had that stupid Thanksgiving lunch, and then school let out at noon." Jackson watched as Tara's face fell even further and remembered abruptly how much she loved school and everything that went with it- so different from himself. Suddenly, he had an idea.

"Want to eat dinner at my house? Mom skipped the family lunch this year and everyone's coming over to our house for turkey and all that tonight. We-" he indicated he and Harry "-were just staying clear while they get it ready. I already washed more potatoes than I ever wanted to see in my lifetime." Tara chuckled and raised her eyes to her father, who pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache.

"Tara Grace… don't you think your mother needs you around?" Jackson watched as Tara's face fell for a second time- he got the impression that she'd forgotten, at least momentarily, about her mother and the cancer that was currently causing her to waste away before their very eyes.

"We're done with the Christmas decorations, Daddy. It's just the tree, but we don't even have that yet, and you said-" Rick put up a hand to stop her.

"I know what I said. But how about we go get it, then we can decorate it this afternoon?" Tara glanced over her shoulder, a frown settling on her face.

"Mom got tired," she explained. "She was asleep most of the time- she said she wants to go to the bedroom as soon as you can help her." Now it was Rick's face that fell, and Jackson watched him try to conceal his disappointment. "I don't think she'd mind if I ate supper with Jackson and Harry, but I'll ask…" Tara's voice faded away as her father's face shuttered at the suggestion.

"It's a holiday, girl. We'll spend time as a family- you don't need to go bothering the Tellers, or bugging your mother about it." Tara nodded, crestfallen, as Rick pushed himself off the doorframe. "I'm gonna go help her into bed. Go ahead and let these boys get on their way. Jackson? Harry?" Both boys nodded in response. "Nice seein' you again." He backed away from the door and headed through the kitchen and into the living room as Jackson watched Tara begin to bite her lip. Oh, Christ, she was about to cry and it was because he couldn't leave well enough alone.

"I'm sorry, Tara, I shouldn't have…" She shook her head and gave him a watery smile that halfway broke his heart.

"It isn't your fault, Jackson. Thank you for inviting me over- please tell Gemma and JT Happy Thanksgiving for me." She shifted her focus to Harry. "And Piney. Is your mom-"

"Naw, she's at my grandma's. I was supposed to go but I didn't want to leave Pop here by himself. We're heading over to JT and Gemma's later." Again, Jackson could see the longing on her face, even as he heard the music switch off somewhere in the background. Christ, he hated that she was going to sit in her house with her old man while her mom slept. He couldn't help but feel a little angry with Rick, even though he knew it wouldn't do any of them any good. Couldn't he see that Tara needed to keep living life? He was shaken out of his thoughts as he heard his name.

"Jackson… don't be like that. He's just… sad, and he wants to make things as easy on her as he can, you know?" Jeez, she could always read his face- maybe even better than his mother. "I'll try to see you guys tomorrow, OK?"

Jackson wanted to ask "What about you? Is any of this easy on you?"… but he didn't. Instead, he lurched forward and hugged her- ignoring, for a moment, the fact that Harry was probably going to give him crap for it all the way to the park. As he backed away, he noted with amusement that Harry had edged forward and was awkwardly squeezing Tara to his side. There went his ammo, Jackson thought with a chuckle.

Harry released Tara and she gave them a small, sad smile as she retreated into the kitchen a bit to grasp the door.

"You better go; I should see if he needs any help taking care of her." The door was almost shut before Jackson heard himself say-

"Take care of you, too, Tara…"

If her watery smile earlier had halfway broken his heart, the look she gave him as the door clicked shut definitely finished the job.

Jax isn't sure why that particular memory had surfaced, really; other than Rick himself, there's no obvious connection to the news Tara had just given him. Maybe what she'd said to him in the hospital earlier- to tell his father everything that was on his heart, to worry about himself instead of protecting everyone around him- maybe that had triggered the memory from one of the few times he was able to see her outside school that last month or so before her mom died.

He guesses he's a bit of a hypocrite, if that's the case; he'd told her then to take care of herself, too, when that's about the last thing he'd been doing all day yesterday. In fact, it was the last thing he'd done before falling into an exhausted sleep at his father's side. He just knows that if he allows himself to think too much about what he's feeling about all this and what's to come, he's going to wind up in bed with a bottle of booze and a lit cigarette just like he had after Tommy. Focusing on the issues at hand, on everyone else, is the only thing keeping him going.

Not that he's doing a particularly good job of helping the people he cares about. Shit, Tara had dropped Unser's news on him and he'd just… frozen, much like he had that night in Ope's attic. She hadn't had much more to say after the initial news- at least not that he'd been able to comprehend- and he'd had to excuse himself, having only the wherewithal to drop a few bills on the table and fumble his way out the door to the small patio out front. He'd been there… well, he doesn't know how long; long enough to smoke- he counts the butts that have rolled into the curb at his feet- three cigarettes. A fourth hangs from his lips as Jax comes to the realization that Tara's probably inside and wondering, as she had the day before, how much he hates her for the complete fucked-up mess her father is.

Jax scrubs his hands over his face. Christ. He doesn't hate her- far from it. It isn't her fault Rick had made some half-assed deal with the devil to try and salvage his job. It isn't her fault Clay had chosen now to call in his favor, and it isn't even her fault if the ambush- or, hell, the accident- winds up being some complicated, devious scheme between the two men. The only thing she'd done wrong was to decide not to tell him right away, and even that had been meant to protect him.

Yet, here he is, leaving her in the café alone after telling him some news that had likely rocked her world; chain-smoking like a moody asshole instead of reassuring her like she needed- talking things out like they needed. He'd just wanted a minute to think- truly think- about what he'd just heard, but a minute had turned into several and instead of talking to her, he'd run.

Jax is snapped out of his thoughts by the tinkling of the café bell behind him, and instantly he knows who's exited; he can feel Tara's presence behind him. As he turns to gaze up at her he instantly notices the fat tears rolling down her cheeks, the way she's twisting her hands together, her slumped shoulders… the effect on his senses is devastating.

"I… I'm going to head back to the hospital, see if I can catch a ride home with someone. Should I send Opie or someone ov-" her words are halted as Jax reaches up to tug on her hand and pull her down to the curb beside him. She sits, gingerly, tries to blink back the tears and it's too much for Jax. He wraps his arm around her and pulls her into his side, whispering in her ear before pressing a kiss to her temple.

"I'm sorry, babe." That seems to be the final straw as Tara dissolves into tears and his heart aches as her hitched breaths puff against his neck. Shaking his head, he draws back to frame her face in his hands. "I'm so sorry. I just… I couldn't think. I didn't mean to leave you in there alone. Everything that's happened though… it's a lot. I couldn't breathe all of a sudden, but I didn't stop to think about how you feel about this whole thing."

Tara doesn't look at him, her crying doesn't let up. She just burrows her head into his neck and cries and cries. Minutes go by before her sobs turn into sniffles and the occasional hitched breath, and they sit, wrapped in each other on the curb as Jax watches the distant figures buzz around the hospital entrance. Christ, what are they going to do? Tara's right, they can't tell the club until they know more about Rick's motivations; if they suspect he's somehow behind a hit, they'll kill him for sure and he doesn't know how he'd ever be able to call the men who'd murdered his girlfriend's father- as big a piece of shit as the man is- his brothers. It's then that he realizes how very little he knows; whatever else Tara had had to share with him, he'd tuned out the moment the tunnel vision had hit after she'd said it was my dad.

"Babe…' he nudges Tara, who lifts her streaked face from his shoulder to look at him; she looks wrecked- exhausted, emotional… and fucking scared, if he's being honest with himself. Her face solidifies his decision. "We gotta talk, but I don't think it should be anywhere around other people." She nods her understanding. "A couple of the guys just pulled up over at the hospital- I'll tell 'em where we're headed just in case- they can pass it along to Mom so she can find us if something comes up. Okay?"

Again, Tara nods- like yesterday when she'd been panicking about revealing similar news to him, every last vestige of the strong-willed smartass that is Tara Knowles is absent. It feels like a knife to the gut to realize that she'd been strong in the face of her father's accident, her father's cruel words, JT's accident, even Melissa Rourke. Yet, the fear that Jax himself will hate her, leave her or worse has this effect on her and he mentally kicks himself for making things worse by running out on her.

"I love you, Tara." He doesn't realize just how much she'd needed to hear it until he watches the relief cross her face and some of the weight seem to leave her shoulders. He doesn't realize how much he'd needed to hear it until she answers him.

"I love you too, Jackson. So much." The weight of what their relationship means to her- to both of them- settles on his heart and makes him more determined than ever to do right by her, always. He grabs her hand and they cross back to the hospital lot to find Chibs, Tig, and Kozik stashing their helmets. One look at Chibs' face, which falls instantly upon seeing Tara's red, puffy eyes, tells Jax he had better provide context.

"Dad's fine. Well, as much as he can be. We just… well, we got into an argument." Chibs' expression morphs from one of dread into one of exasperation and Jax barely dodges the slap to the back of the head Kozik sends his way.

"Don't be so hard on him. It was mostly my fault. Besides, we're working it out." Tara pastes on a wavery smile and Kozik stuffs his hands into his pockets, though Chibs looks unconvinced.

"About that…" Jax hesitates; he's torn between the urge to check in on his father and to figure out what else Tara knows. Still, if something happens, someone will surely come get them... "Can you tell Ma I'm gonna take a walk with Tara? We got some shit to talk about. Actually, don't tell her that, it'll stress her out. Just let her know where we'll be- say we needed to get away a minute, OK? Please?" Chibs eyes him suspiciously and Jax shakes his head slightly. Later, Chibs. He's already been thinking through how to get more information and the only patched members that have information and a dislike for Clay- or at least a suspicion of him- are Piney and Chibs. Hell, his old man had straight up told the Chibs his suspicions about the ambush.

"Aye, Jackie. Ah'll tell 'er. But if she gets inta me abou' it, I ain't gonna lie. Enough a tha' goin' 'round." Jax nods.

"Thanks guys. We'll be back in… forty-five minutes to an hour?" All three Sons nod, and head into the hospital.

Jax squeezes Tara's hand and they start off towards the little park that's on the corner of the hospital property. The pergola at its center had been built recently; the wood is still raw and yellow-green, unlike the weathered gray benches scattered around the path at the park's edge. As they near it, Jax notices that the pavers underneath it are scattered with brightly colored glazed tiles- obviously decorated by children. The bricks above them are engraved with a name and set of dates that can only be birth and death dates, and Jax catches his breath. It doesn't take him long to spot one that looks like something Tommy would have drawn- an almost violently red motorcycle accompanied by an orange sports car- and when he reads the inscription near it with Tommy's name, the familiar ache settles in his chest. Tara's silent, but when he glances at her, it's clear she's not noticed the brick or the tile; her eyes are trained on the plaque at the corner leg of the pergola and when she drops his hand to wander closer, he follows.

Almost mechanically, Tara's hand rises to trail its way down the plaque and stops on the bottom line, almost caressing it as she lingers. It isn't large, and Jax has to get quite a bit closer before he can read it, but what he reads stops him for a moment, too.

Dedicated to the St. Thomas Pediatrics Staff that are
now watching over our children from above:

Joy Ellingson
Rob Chastain
Chrystal Smith
Grace Knowles

"Did you know I haven't been to my mom's grave since I've been back?" Instantly, Jax feels a twinge of guilt for dragging her to Tommy's, even if it had been primarily in a search for a private place to talk. He swallows and shakes his head, but Tara's eyes are still trained on the plaque, her fingers drifting over her mother's name in reverence. "I haven't made the time. I guess I should feel guilty about that, but I don't; it still seems like she lives in my house so it's hard to imagine her in the ground, somewhere, you know? I had to carry the memories with me for seven years, and it just seemed like it made sense to keep doing it once I got back here." She sighs, drops her hand from her mother's name. "I mean; I should go visit. I know that. But seeing her name here… She was important to people, Jackson. And not just me and my dad- she helped kids. Your mom told me how much she meant to others and this… this just proves it; you know?" She drags her eyes from the plaque and gives Jax a misty smile; he takes her hand and tugs her over to Tommy's brick and tile, watching as her eyes widen.

"See? They're both here. I know this isn't where their bodies are buried, or where their souls or whatever are… but knowing that a little part of Tommy's here with a little part of your mom… it sounds stupid, but I'm glad they're together, you know?" Tara doesn't respond, just flings herself into his arms. They stand- embracing under the pergola that bears her mother's name and next to the brick that carries his brother's- until Tara murmurs near his shoulder.

"Do you ever think about fate? I mean, whatever you want to call it- whether it's laid out by God, or the Universe, or nature, or something else." Tilting his head to touch hers, Jax considers this a moment. He supposes he has, especially as it relates to Tommy's death. He'd wondered occasionally if Tommy had never been meant to live- never been meant to grow up with him, to ride his own Dyna or patch into his father's club. Had it all been predestined? Or had some random occurrence caused Tommy to suffer exponentially more from the same CHD Jax himself had at birth?

"I guess, I used to think about it a lot when Tommy was sick, wondered if it was all meant to be that way, or if it was some punishment for someone… I don't know." She's silent a moment before pulling back a bit to look at him, her arms still looped around his waist. Her words, as usual, somehow pinpoint exactly what he's been thinking.

"I don't know if I believe that it's fate, or God, or whatever… but I think we're supposed to be here together, somehow. Our parents were born in different cities, different states; yet they all ended up here, with us. My mom, your brother- they're both here in this park, at a place they both spent a lot of time. My dad, your dad, Clay, the club… I don't know what out of all of that was supposed to happen, and I don't know why, but… it's all too much to be a coincidence and we can either let it come between us or help it make us stronger. And that's why I told you about my dad right away this time- partially because it can maybe help us try to stop something else from happening to your family, yes. But also because if we're keeping secrets, whatever this pull is between us- it's going to pull us apart instead of together."

Jesus, it's like she's reading his fucking mind.

"You came back to me after Tommy, but right when I was just so… done with everything else that even Tommy didn't matter anymore. It was all one big mess. I'll never believe that your aunt and all of that happening to bring you back here was just convenient timing. I don't know what to call it or what to believe, but I do believe we're supposed to be here, together, and us together means I can handle all of this other shit. I'd be lost without you, Tara; I was lost, and I never want to know what that feels like again."

She's smiling up at him, and Jax almost hates to begin the conversation they'd come here for. He'd rather drag her off somewhere and avoid surfacing for days… weeks, even. Still, they'd come here to discuss Rick, Clay, and the mess they've created.

"Tara… what do we know about your dad's involvement in my dad's accident?" Her smile fades, but he's glad to see that she's calm.

"Not much, really. Unser said he didn't recognize the truck or look at the names until later and he said I should keep it to myself until the accident report gets released. He only really talked to my dad this morning, right before he came to talk to me at the hospital. He said my dad told him JT had called him and asked to meet at the Salty Dog." Jax starts at that bit of information- that's where Clay had asked Rick to meet.

"You think that's a lie, a coincidence, or part of some plan?" Tara shakes her head, slowly.

"I don't know, Jackson, that's why I wanted to talk it through with you. I remember your dad saying he had to meet the guys out at the warehouse, and that he'd be home for supper. Didn't he say he was going to meet up with my dad and talk to him? Or send someone else to do it?" Jax furrows his brow and wanders over to a bench to sit.

"I think so. He said by suppertime either he or someone else would have talked to Rick to get to the bottom of the whole favor thing, and then he was hit just past there. But why would he have been out past the bar if he was supposed to meet your dad?" Tara sits facing him, cross legged on the bench.

"Unser thought of that. He figures he went out to talk to the other members, since that warehouse is also out there, and was going to stop back by and talk to my dad on his way back. My dad was just early. I mean, that's sort of just like him- he's always early- and if your dad really did call him to set up a meeting, he was probably freaking out just a little bit. I could definitely see him getting there early. Or…"

"Clay." Jax finishes, sighing. "There's something up, Tara, but I don't think even Clay could perfectly time both our fathers heading towards each other on the highway, and dad wiping out. But I still know in my gut that Clay had something to do with this fake Mayan ambush, and that means he could have had his hands in this accident somehow. JT was convinced Clay's dirty, too, and maybe even my mom and Chibs. I know we can't tell them yet, there has to be doubt that your dad was involved or the club will kill him without a second thought-" Tara cringes "-but once we have more information I think I want to take it to either Piney or Chibs, see what shakes out."

"What about Gemma?" Jax sighs. Out of everyone- to include the patched members- his mother is probably the quickest to action and the slowest to forgive.

"The moment she catches wind of this, she's not going to want to listen to anything anyone says, including me, you, and Unser. Christ, probably not even Piney. JT's the only one that's going to be able to convince her he actually did want to meet up with your old man, and even then, she's still going to have to be convinced it wasn't a part of a plot. We have to get proof the Mayan thing was Clay, and maybe once the rest of the club questions him, he'll let them know what your dad's involvement was. The shitty thing is… if we don't want the club thinking he was involved, we have to figure it out before that report comes out." Tara releases a shaky breath, then raises wide green eyes to his.

"And what if he was? Involved, I mean." Jax shrugs, though he reaches out to stroke Tara's cheek.

"Then it's club business and there's nothing you or I can do about it. But Tara… JT didn't think your dad had time to actually plan anything with Clay yesterday afternoon. The accident happened just a couple hours later, and if JT set the meet, it's possible Clay didn't even know they were going to link up. I don't think your dad was a friend to either Clay or JT, and I don't know that he'd be willing to do anything above and beyond what Clay had already asked- to show up at the Salty Dog after work." Jax's expression turns thoughtful. "Maybe… maybe JT planned on calling out Clay? I mean, Clay had to check at some point to see if Rick was actually going to the bar. What if JT was setting up a confrontation?"

"Maybe…" Tara responds, slowly. "But do you think he'd do that alone?" Jax shrugs.

"Dunno. Maybe he planned on bringing someone- Piney, Chibs, maybe- to back him up?" Jax shakes his head in frustration. "If we could just fucking ask JT what his plans were, what your dad said…" Immediately, Tara places a soothing hand on his arm, and he's able to breathe a little easier.

"Even if he gets better, we wont be able to talk to JT for a while yet… but there's someone we can ask, if we're careful about how we do it." Jax raises an eyebrow in question. "My dad."


It's nearly eleven when they make their way back to the hospital. Jax has to admit; although he'd had some niggling guilt about being away from both JT and Gemma for that long, it had been both productive and a relief to escape the suffocating sterility of the hospital for a bit. There are a few scattered Sons in the waiting room, but it appears most everyone had been forced to attend to either club business or business as usual in the garage. Jax doesn't stop to chit chat with any of them, just nods and heads straight through the familiar doors towards his father's room.

Gemma's there, as is Piney, and both hug Jax and Tara as they enter.

"Hey baby. You get your head cleared, a little?" Jax nods and gives her a kiss on the cheek.

"Yeah, mom. Anything change?" Gemma's face no longer falls when he asks about his father, which must mean she's feeling a little more hopeful. Jax is, too, to be honest, but that doesn't mean he's going to be scheduling JT's welcome home party or anything. Just the fact that Unser hadn't thought he'd make the hospital and everyone in a lab coat hadn't thought he'd see daylight but his old man had proven them all wrong was enough to lift a little of the dread that had been building in the pit of his stomach since last night.

"Seems about the same, but Doc's coming back in after lunch to update. She was here right as Chibs and them came in to let me know. Actually…" Gemma assesses Jax and Tara, looks them up and down before continuing, "I need to grab a shower. Piney's gonna take me home in the truck and then I'll bring the Caddy back. After the Doc comes in, the two of you should go wash up, get the stink of the hospital off ya." Jax nods. A shower sounds amazing, actually; maybe he can even convince Tara to take one with him again… As his train of thought runs wild, he catches Gemma's eye; she's shaking her head and pursing her lips in mock disgust before he can catch himself. "Jesus Christ, Jackson. Really?"

"What?" Tara and Piney blurt out, in unison. Jax is reddening and Tara and Piney are staring at them quizzically as Gemma shakes her head and ruffles his hair.

"Watch it" is all she says as she turns her attention to Piney. "Alright old man, take me home so I can get back here. Depending on what time it is, I may drop by the school, talk to a couple of the teachers." Wait, what?

"Why would you do that?" His mother looks at him like he is, perhaps, a little dense.

"Parent-teacher conferences? Half day today, no school tomorrow? Ring a bell?" Jax shrugs. The whole last few days has seemed like a blur, really.

"That's not even necessary, Ma. The high school ones are pretty much bullshit anyhow; you just walk up to the table and talk to the teachers you want to." She rolls her eyes at him.

"I'm aware, Jackson, I went to them last year."

"Well, I'm passing everything, so-"

"It ain't about you passing. You're smart, baby, ain't no reason you shouldn't be doing well. I'd like to talk to your teachers, though, fill 'em in about what's goin' on right now. They'll likely need to show a little understanding with your dad in here. Or, if…" She doesn't finish the sentence, just sniffs and folds her arms across her body.

"You ready, Gem?" Piney's voice breaks through the silence and Gemma nods before kissing Jax on the cheek.

"Yeah, I'm comin'." She kisses Tara, too, before moving to follow Piney out the door. "Oh, and Jackson?" his head snaps around to meet her gaze, which comes over her shoulder as she secures her large handbag to her side. "No visitors while I'm gone, you understand? I'll tell the nurse on my way out, but with how everything's been…" Jax nods, the lump in his throat back with a vengeance, and as his mother closes the door behind her, he lets out that breath in a whoosh.

"Do you think she suspects something?" Tara ventures, uneasily, as they settle themselves onto the soft vinyl chair, she in his lap, curled around him, his cheek on the top of her head.

"The night I found out about Dad's suspicions, it was because he told her and Chibs… and me, but it's almost like he forgot I was in the room. So yeah, I think they both might suspect something more is behind this accident." They're silent a moment, listening to the ever-present beeping of the monitors and the hiss and click of the ventilator, before Tara speaks.

"What happens now, Jackson? I mean… if we figure this all out and if he makes a recovery, it will still be a while before he can ride. I remember when Lenny had his surgery a long time ago, before I left; you said he couldn't vote, right? Not if he couldn't ride? He was all pissed off, I remember him kicking bikes over in the lot." Jax does, too.

Lenny The Pimp had been one of the First Nine; he'd just had the surgery that stands out to Jax, primarily, as the surgery that had both taken his voice and produced a large hole in his throat. The guy wasn't even supposed to be out and about yet and he'd wanted to be present for some vote or other. However, some Club bylaw had provided that if you can't ride, you can't vote, and Lenny hadn't taken it well. In lieu of yelling at the members gathered on the lot, he'd kicked over JT's bike, causing a domino effect that succeeded in pissing everyone off. Jax can't remember how long Lenny had lost his vote, but he'd evidently gained it back eventually because it wasn't long after that that he'd gone inside for something or other. Something serious, too, because he'd been in Stockton for years, now.

But Tara makes a good point- even if he recovers, his father won't be able to ride for a long time. Or what if he's paralyzed or some shit? Jax can't think of much worse than his father in a power chair- acting as some sort of club mascot, rolling through the lot as the rest of SAMCRO rolls out. He'd have to remove the President patch Jax had seen him with his whole life, and Jax doesn't know if he can bear watching some other man sew it on. No, there's not much worse than that… unless he winds up a vegetable or something. Living out his days here in the hospital… Jax shudders and Tara's hands are instantly on his cheekbones, framing his face.

"Whatever happens, baby, I'm here, alright?" He nods, and dips his head to cover her mouth with his. This… this is what he's needed to calm the storm that's been raging in his head ever since he'd heard Unser say those four words- There's, ah, been an accident. Tara's touch can calm him, bring him back from some precipice before he unleashes his rage on some asshole that's insulting her, hitting on her, talking shit about his family… but he's beginning to realize that her kiss can truly soothe his mind; on the other hand, it ratchets up his desire for her as the thousand and one thoughts and feelings that reside in him where she's concerned are awakened. It's a delicious dichotomy he's not sure he'll ever get over; he's also not sure he ever wants to.

Her tongue brushes his needily, and as his hand sifts through her hair he's increasingly aware of another part of him that wants to join the party, straining against his fly. Groaning, he breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to hers. She laughs- a sound he feels like he hasn't heard in days- and traces his jawbone with a delicate finger.

"I think that's the last thing Dad would want to see if he wakes up right now." He smiles at her, then, drinking in the sight of her smiling right back.

"Oh, I can think of a few things that would be worse. But you're right, a hospital room isn't exactly the place for any of them," Tara says, wickedly, and Jax is suddenly harder than ever. Christ, that shower idea wasn't far off the mark. Even with all the emotional turmoil of the past day, she still manages to work her way into his every thought… and turn him on while doing it.

"Later. And that's a promise. For now… just hold still for a minute, will you? I just need to, uh, catch my breath." She smiles and settles back against his chest as he tries to think of something- anything- to take his mind off just how much he wants her. They're quiet a moment while he feels himself settling.

"If he can't ride, can't vote, can't be President… what do you think they'll do?" Well, there it is. The one subject sure to drive away any remaining bit of arousal Jax had been experiencing.

"I don't know, babe. They'll at least have to find someone temporary. If it's a permanent thing, definitely- like if he's paralyzed, in a chair…" he swallows and Tara's eyes widen; she'd clearly not considered that.

"And if he dies?" This, he's thought over, over the past eighteen hours. He shrugs.

"New President. He's been the Pres ever since I can remember, but I think they just vote someone else in. Usually one of the officers- Piney, Bobby… or Clay." He tries to disguise his uncertainty at the first two, but makes no effort to hide his disgust at the thought of Clay taking his father's gavel. Tara's shaking her head against his chest.

"Shit. This is bad, Jackson." He nods in agreement. It's a fucking mess, is what it is, and if JT was right about Clay wanting to take him out it's probably because he's angling for the gavel. The very thought makes him sick.

They sit for the better part of two hours- sometimes talking quietly, sometimes silent. Occasionally, either Tara or Jax head to the waiting room to use the vending machine or outside to get some fresh air, but there's an unspoken agreement never to leave JT alone. It's on his last trip outside- for a cigarette this time- that Jax spots Clay at the bank of pay phones on his way back in. The older man's back is to him, but his build and his voice are unmistakable. Jax slows, hoping to catch a snippet of conversation, when Clay hangs up, somewhat violently. He turns just as Jax begins walking again and breaks into his signature grin, the one that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Hey, son. How's the old man?" Through the last couple days, Jax feels like he's gotten pretty decent at hiding his animosity towards Clay, but it's all going to go south if the man keeps calling him son. A lot of the First Nine refer to he and Ope that way- probably because they're the only members of the second generation of actual Sons- and he's gotten used to it for the most part. But that's taken a serious step towards regression where Clay's concerned.

"Same. Ma said no visitors, though, 'least not until after the Doc sees him. Should be soon." He doesn't want to let on that there's no adult in the room, that Tara's in there by herself; the less Clay knows the better. Clay snorts.

"Yeah, that's what the gash at the counter said. I ain't got much time, either. We got that meet we had to reschedule yesterday when all this shit happened. Guess I'll be back by afterwards." Clay raises an eyebrow and Jax realizes he's waiting for a response of some sort.

"Uh, okay. Yeah, plus Ma can tell you guys what the Doc had to say." That sounded natural.

"Well, I hope it's good news, son."

"Yeah, he's hanging in there." Clay attempts a smile, though it comes across as more of a grimace. Jesus, if only fucked up facial expressions at what should be good news were as good as proof that the guy's guilty… Clay nods and ambles out the automatic doors, already retrieving his cigar from his kutte pocket. Christ.

Jax can't get back to the room fast enough and when he does, there's a nurse checking his father's vitals; Tara's hovering uneasily in the corner and looks relieved when he returns. The nurse finishes and closes the door behind her, and Tara's breath comes out in a rush.

"Christ, Jackson, I hate this. I'm suspicious of everyone at this point- that poor nurse has probably worked here for years, but the whole time I kept thinking- what if Clay got to her, too? I'm sure she thought I was nuts." Jax chuckles and wraps her in his arms.

"God, I love you." They stand there for a moment before he sighs and breaks the light moment. "Clay was out there, talking to someone on the pay phone. He seemed annoyed about the no visitors thing, too. Thank God Gemma thought of it, 'cause it would have been just him and you if he came in here to try anything. I didn't see him when I went out to smoke and he didn't pull up when I was out there, so who knows what he's been up to. But if you think you can talk to your dad, play it off as concern for my dad… I think we should do it tonight." Tara nods, silently, and they're still wrapped up in each other when Gemma returns, looking renewed… and pissed off.

"Doc been in yet?" Jax shakes his head, and his mother looks relieved.

"Good, took a little longer at the school than I planned and I didn't want to miss her." Shit, the school. He supposes – based on her facial expression- she's found out about skipping school to stay with Tara, or any one of the other classes he's ditched in recent weeks. There had been more than a few, too: the entire afternoon the day of JT's accident- Christ, had that been only yesterday? - the occasional cigarette breaks with Ope, any one of the many geometry classes he'd skipped just because it fucking sucked…

"Mom…" He steps away from Tara to get her out of the line of fire, though the only blows Gemma will be landing are verbal ones.

"Jackson…" Great, now she's mocking him. "I know all of this-" she gestures to the room at large "-is an exception. As was the whole thing with Rick. The school's willing to show you some leniency because of what's going on with your father, but I specifically remember telling you to get your ass to school a couple of the days they said you missed. And if you skip much more geometry, even Tara here ain't gonna be able to tutor your ass back into a passing grade. You're smarter than this, Jackson. If you go to class, you should be able to pull better than a D."

"Ma. You don't need to learn Geometry to fix a bike or deal with the fucking Mayans." Gemma rolls her eyes.

"I know a lot of Sons that might disagree with that. And we can revisit this conversation when it comes time to Prospect, maybe, but until then you go to class. You're lucky there's a day off tomorrow or your ass would be back there tomorrow morning. As it is, you're going back on Monday. Unless…" Gemma leaves unless you're attending your father's funeral unspoken, but it's there just the same. She turns to Tara.

"And you… I assume you don't cut class- at least not usually. But since your dad ain't here to tell you, I will. Don't let this little delinquent-" she jerks her head towards Jax "convince you to skip with him. One of you two needs to graduate." Tara nods while Gemma huffs out a laugh, and it goes without saying that Tara's for sure headed towards graduation. But had his mother alluded to possibly letting him drop out when he starts Prospecting? Jax isn't sure what he thinks of the idea, though he knows Prospecting is all-encompassing and if he and Ope manage to convince their fathers to let them do it at eighteen, they'll be seniors… Jax had always thought he'd push for seventeen, be the youngest Prospect in the history of SAMCRO, but with everything JT had said about changing the direction the club was moving and now the accident… there's no way it'll be sorted and stable by this time next year. He's also not sure he's prepared for what joining a club without his father as President will mean.

A knock at the door brings him out of his thoughts, and Doctor Edmonds enters after a brief pause, trailed by two men in scrubs.

"Afternoon Mrs. Teller, Jax." Her eyes land on Tara and she extends a hand. "I don't believe we've met, formally, though you were here last night when Jax had a few questions for me, right?"

"Yes, I was."

"Doctor Edmonds, Mr. Teller's primary care physician." Tara takes her hand and shakes it, lightly.

"Tara, Jax's, uh, girlfriend." Edmonds smiles kindly, and gestures towards the two men in the room.

"My colleagues here will introduce themselves in a moment. They wanted to be here this afternoon when I examine John, maybe take a look themselves if that's alright." The first, a rather tall man with graying hair and tanned skin, speaks to the room at large.

"Doctor Keller, neurology." He nods and defers to the man next to him, a younger, fairly stocky man with close-cropped dark hair.

"Doctor Russo, trauma and general surgery." Jax nods at both of them but is confused. Hadn't Edmonds just told them yesterday that surgeons had declined to take on his father's case because he wasn't expected to survive the surgery? Edmonds glances at him and evidently senses his confusion.

"I told you yesterday that we didn't expect Mr. Teller to survive the night. Obviously, he did, and as of early this morning hadn't made a lot of progress- either negatively or positively. I've just had a look at his vitals, however, and thought perhaps Doctors Keller and Russo should see for themselves. If you'll give us just a few minutes?" Gemma nods and steps back to allow the doctors access to JT.

It's several minutes, during which the doctors converse quietly, compare charts, examine JT, and several other things Jax can't begin to identify with. At some point, Edmonds excuses them and they file into the hallway and close the door behind them. Neither Jax, Tara, nor Gemma speak; their attention is focused where the doctors' had been- on the silent form of JT lying in the bed. When Edmonds reappears, she's alone. Christ, what does that mean?

"It's just me for now." She smiles, and Jax feels a little more at ease. "I'll explain in a moment. But it seems that while Mr. Teller hasn't made a miraculous recovery since I examined him this morning, he is doing somewhat better than what we'd expect given his injuries. At this point, he's fairly stable, though still critical. When a patient is unconscious for this long, some term it a coma. Aside from the ability to maintain bodily functions- which he's doing except for the breathing- we need to examine his level of brain activity and find out how meaningful his being able to maintain those functions is-"

"You sayin' he's brain dead, Doc?" Jax's heart feels like it's dropped into his stomach as Edmond's raises her hands.

"No, no. I'm not saying that at all. Yes, sometimes, that's the case. My point is, we needed to estimate John's ability to survive this period of unconsciousness- this level of head trauma- before making other decisions regarding his care. I told you last night that Surgery had declined to operate because he wasn't likely to survive. Things have changed a bit today. His eyes and his reflexes can tell us a lot, in this case. First, the primary way we can tell a patient isn't responding as usual is the pupils. Initially, one was fixed and dilated, which is the case in the majority- 90-95%- of patients where brain death is imminent. Reflexes were very poor during our initial examination, as well. Last night and this morning, the pupils looked better, but reflexes were still poor. This afternoon, however, we received a fairly positive response to stimuli." Edmonds pauses, and surveys the room.

"So he's improving?" Gemma's arms are folded, her hip cocked, and Jax knows that while this is her "fight" stance, she's feeling out of her element and is on edge as a result.

"To a certain extent. From a short physical examination, his response is much closer to what we'd want to see, but a CT will tell us a lot more about what's going on. So I'd like to schedule one as soon as possible. That said… there's also the issue of his other injuries, the ones that require surgical intervention. Last night, he was in no way stable enough to survive surgery. This afternoon, he has a real shot if we determine his brain activity to be sufficient to justify the risk."

"What are you sayin', Doc? You operating or not?" Edmonds doesn't waver in the face of Gemma's demanding tone, and Jax smiles a bit.

"That's really going to depend on you, his medical power of attorney. It's a risky surgery- he's still not as stable as we'd like. However, if he continues to survive the head trauma, the internal injuries become a factor; eventually, a few- the liver, for example- will become toxic and then the state of his brain activity won't matter. But, yes, dependent on the results of the CT, it's a decent shot he could survive the surgery. We wouldn't want to wait much longer with the way his blood flow looked, but there are risks with operating now, as well."

"What gives him a better chance? Is there a benefit to waiting?"

"The surgery may not be enough- I can't promise his survival even if we're successful and even if he makes it through the surgery. But waiting more than several hours means his organs become a ticking time bomb and there's no guarantee he'll remain stable enough to ever make it to surgery. I'm comfortable recommending we operate- if the CT scan we'll do this afternoon looks okay." Gemma fixes a glare on Edmonds and moves her hands to her hips.

"Well, what are you standin' around here for, then? Don't you have some orders to give?" Edmonds cracks a smile and nods.

"I thought you might say that. Someone will come get him for the CT as soon as we can get it set up. Afterwards, if the surgery's a go, we'll deal with those details." With that, the doctor turns and exits, closing the door behind her. Tara practically flings herself at Jax, who's still standing there, processing everything he's just heard. His father's a candidate for surgery- likely to be, anyway- and there's a real possibility of his survival. Fuck the club, the worry about whether he'll be in a wheelchair or able to vote… Jax could have his father back. That's what matters, now.

Gemma's wiping her eyes and stroking JT's forehead with one hand, her other hand clasped in his, and Jax pulls Tara along with him as he moves to hug his mother. Tara puts her arms around both of them and together, they wrap Gemma in an embrace broken only by her hand, still folded around JT's. This time, the tears Jax allows himself to shed are hopeful, and he thinks he notices a difference between them and the hot, burning ones he'd cried the night before.

They stand that way for several minutes, until an orderly knocks and begins to prepare JT for movement to his scan. Gemma extracts a tissue from her purse and hands one to both Jax and Tara before dabbing at her own eyes.

"Jesus. These hospital stays are gonna be the end to my reputation," she jokes. "I've cried more the past couple days than I have the past year." She clears her throat and straightens, obviously donning the Biker Queen persona that's served her so well through over sixteen years of serving as de-facto Charming royalty. "Opie should be out in the waiting room. He's got the truck and is going to take the two of you to go get cleaned up, then you can bring the bike back here. Better yet, I'll call you at home- fill you in on the results of the scan and we can decide then when you're coming back. No sense in rushing back if your father's gonna be in the operating room anyway." The smile Gemma breaks into is larger, more real, than any Jax has seen since this whole thing had started and he's happy to see it.

"Alright, Ma. If I'm not at home, try Tara's, she'll need a change of clothes and shit." Gemma nods, thoughtfully.

"Fine, but you be careful not to tweak Rick while you're there. He's liable to be on edge since Tara ain't been home since this whole thing happened." God, if she only knew…

"Got it." Jax leans to press a kiss to her cheek. "Later, Mom. Love you." Gemma smiles as Tara gives her a hug, as well.

"Love you, too."

Opie's slumped in a chair, his eyes trained on the afternoon court show playing on the ancient TV; when he spots them, he looks by turns immensely relieved and guilty. He rises and seizes Jax in a brisk hug, complete with backslaps, then bestows a moderately tamer version upon Tara.

"Sorry, I had school- Pop made me go." Opie's expression darkens.

"Hey, it's alright. We've been in and out, dad's still out of it. But we got shit to talk about." Opie surveys him a moment, then nods; Tara, on the other hand, elbows him and gestures towards Opie.

"Aren't you going to tell him the news?" She's beaming at this point, and he has the urge to ask her if she'd paid attention to the part where the doctor had cautioned them that she couldn't guarantee anything, but doesn't have the heart.

"Doc came back to check on the old man, brought a couple surgeons with her. They're checking him for brain activity this afternoon and if he's good to go that way, they cleared him for surgery. It isn't a guarantee or anything, but they're sounding a lot more optimistic." Ope scrubs a hand over his mouth, then breaks into a grin that rivals Tara's and reaches to hug Jax once again.

"Holy shit, that's great, man. They gonna do it today?" Jax nods.

"Yeah, if they clear him."

"Well, shit. Let's get you home so you can get cleaned up. Let's face it, bro… you stink." God, he's missed this, even in the past twenty-four hours or so. Shit had been so serious that he's grateful to return to joking around with Ope again, even if there are no guarantees when it comes to his father.


The ride back to his house had been spent filling Opie in on both pieces of information he's missed- Rick and Clay's meeting and the circumstances surrounding Rick's collision with JT. Ope hadn't said anything until Jax was finished, but his eventual reaction had been about as expected.

"Jesus Christ, Jax. And you don't think he had anything to do with the ambush or the accident?" Jax shook his head.

"JT didn't, and I see his point. There wasn't time for Clay to set all this up before the ambush- he'd only just met with Rick the night before. JT thought it was a diversion or maybe a plan B. The accident, we haven't really put together yet, but it seems like it would be almost impossible to time just right. I think it's more likely that Dad wanted to meet with Rick like he said. But it's all too big a coincidence to be a random accident. Clay's involved somehow, I just gotta prove it."

Opie sighed, flexed his fingers around the steering wheel, before responding.

"Shit, I don't know. I mean, I agree that it's too big a coincidence, but I ain't convinced Clay and Rick didn't work together." His eyes slid to the side. "Uh, sorry, Tara." Tara shrugged.

"Either way, Ope, he's sort of a sitting duck there in the hospital. Mom's with him right now, and I think we need to make sure someone we can trust is there at all times."

"Someone we can trust…" scoffed Opie. "And tell me, who would that be?" Jax shook his head.

"It ain't a long list for now. You, Piney, Mom, Tara, me, and probably Chibs eventually, but I wanna talk to him first." Opie nodded.

"Alright. Well, once he's out of surgery, I can help. But don't you think we should talk to my dad?" Jax sighed, prepared to explain why they couldn't go to the club just yet, when Tara broke in.

"Unser said not to tell the club about my dad being the other driver, at least not just yet. We don't know if he was involved or if he just happened to be there, and we don't know if there's any truth to his story about JT asking him to meet up. Until then, I'd appreciate this being kept to just us- you know what the club will do if they think he was involved…" Her voice trailed off and Opie's face seemed to soften.

"I know, Tara. And I know he's your dad, but this ain't somethin' little we're talkin' about here. If it turns out he's helping Clay try to kill JT…" Tara laid a hand on his arm.

"I know, Ope. I know what it means. And we'll deal with that when- if- the time comes, but until we have more information, I can't just stand by while they make him a scapegoat, you know?" Begrudgingly, Opie nodded.

Ope had dropped them off with promises to meet at the hospital in the morning; he'd even said he'd consider bringing Donna, though he still wasn't sure how much she really wanted to know when it came to SAMCRO. Jax decides that he doesn't care much either way; he just wants the afternoon to be over- the surgery, too- so they can move on to the next hurdle, which is clearing up the murky waters surrounding Clay Morrow and Rick Knowles.

Tara's disappeared to the back of the house, somewhere, ostensibly taking inventory of the toothbrush and things she'd had stored at his house from when she'd stayed with them. His stomach growling, Jax has a look in the refrigerator; nothing that wouldn't take way more work than its worth to heat up. Suddenly remembering the cookies Gemma had made a few nights ago, he snags one from the jar and eats it whole. He finds a nearly empty carton of milk and shrugs, downing the rest straight from the container. He almost chokes when Tara smacks him on the arm.

"Jackson! Ugh, that's so gross!" Jax tilts the carton at her to show her it's empty, then tosses it into the sink before grabbing her by the belt loops and drawing her into him.

"Nah, I was just finishing the rest. Not like anyone else is gonna drink out of it after me or anything." Jax closes the refrigerator door with his foot and wraps his arms around Tara's waist. "Besides… are you really that grossed out by things that have touched my mouth? I seem to remember you having no problem with the same mouth on your mouth…" he kisses her, slow, and with just enough tongue so that he's almost breathless when he pulls away. "…or on your body…" he runs his fingers up the back of her leg, making her shiver.

Tara doesn't say anything in return, just curls her fingers into his hair and tugs him closer. God, he loves her hands in his hair- it's the one thing about the night before that's clear, actually; Tara's fingers sifting through his hair, scraping gently against his scalp, lulling him back to sleep. Jax closes his eyes and revels in the sensation for a moment; it's almost drugging, he thinks, and he's tempted to pull her to the nearest flat surface- the couch, maybe- place his head in her lap, and go to sleep just like that.

"Sometimes…" Tara's voice breaks into his thoughts, "…sometimes, especially days like yesterday, I wonder what I've done to deserve this. Us." Jax stares back at her, dumbfounded. That had been unexpected.

"I ask myself the same thing, Tara. Look at all the…the craziness being with me has already brought to your life. Croweaters, nights in a hospital chair, all this worry about whether someone's trying to fucking kill my dad…" Tara snorts and her hands still, but stay in his hair.

"Yeah, someone… maybe my dad. And you sat in those same hospital chairs the night my dad wound up with a head injury." Jax chuckles and drops his forehead to rest on hers.

"Jesus Christ, we really are the poster children for dysfunctional family, aren't we? Maybe we should start a club; call it Sam Crow's Fucked Up Children or some shit." Tara's sober, unable to bring herself to laugh at the situation.

"Yeah, but at least your dysfunctional family treats me like a member of it. They've been nothing but wonderful, Jax. Hell, I think at this point they love me more than my dad does, and trust me, I feel like shit for saying that. But what has my father ever done for you but find fault and insult me for even being with you? Right, and I forgot, he sort of almost killed your father, and we're still not sure if it was intentional or not…" She looks away, then, eyes brimming with tears despite the sarcasm dripping from her mouth. Jax releases her hip with one hand, and brings it up to lift her chin.

"Look at me, Tara. I. Want. You. Not your family- hell, my crazy family's enough for anyone- even though I can probably learn to deal with your dad if he ever decides he wants anything to do with me. But don't you feel this... this connection between us? I know you do, there's no way you don't. It's been there, ever since we were kids, I just didn't know what to call it or what to do with it then. You're the only person I've ever met that knows how to keep me centered here-" he touches her hand, still resting in his hair "- but knows how to help heal me, here."
he carries her hand to rest on his heart, and folds it within his own. "I don't know where I'd be without you, and that's the damn truth. What you said about fate, earlier… I think part of the reason you're here is that I don't do well without you. It's like, you're the rest of me; you're a healer, Tara, in the best possible way. If you're here, I can figure out how to deal with anything. I just don't know what I bring to the table, how I make this a two-way street."

And he doesn't. What does he have to offer Tara except a good time, some surrogate parents- as nuts as they are, sometimes- some fun on a Harley? Even as kids, he'd been the one to depend on her to help him work through his shit.

"Jackson…" she's whispering, now. "Don't you know already? First of all, you love me-" she holds up a hand when he begins to protest that she loves him, too. "And don't say that I love you too. Of course I do. But you have your parents, your SAMCRO family, Opie… you don't know what it's like not to be loved, but I had seven years of it. And coming back here, discovering that our… our bond was still here? That it had somehow grown, even when we weren't around each other, into- into this?" She waves her hand between them. "You have no idea how that made me feel. How… incredible it was to me that someone loved me, but better yet that it was you who loved me. It saved me, Jackson, in more ways than one." He wants to ask her what she means, but she continues, folding his hands between hers and drawing them to herself.

"And the reason I don't think it's fair, sometimes, is that you protect me, too. You always have, even when we were kids. And yeah, I don't need a boy to handle my shit- and I don't. But you want to. You're willing to do… anything, to make sure I'm okay, even before yourself, even sometimes when it means you go without. It all started with that ring, but even today- even when the most fucked up parts of my life have reached out and screwed with the best parts of yours- you're concerned with me. That's what makes this a two-way street, Jackson. I may be a healer, but you're a protector, in the purest sense of the word."

And suddenly, looking into the depths of her eyes, reading the truth in every word she's saying, Jax knows that no words would ever be enough. No physical expression of love would ever truly tell her what he needs her to know, right now; but he has to try, so he starts simply.

"I love you, so fuckin' much." Before Tara can respond with what he knows is true for her, too, Jax claims her mouth with his; his tongue instantly seeks hers and sets up a stroking, swirling rhythm that sends most of his blood rushing south, leaving him dizzy. He buries his own fingers in her hair, reveling in the thick silky weight of it, and tries not to remember how it had looked trailing over his chest, his abs, his hips as she worked her way down… Christ, they're not going to make it out of the kitchen if he keeps going this way.

Jax abruptly breaks the kiss and Tara's small whimper as he hooks an arm behind her knees and lifts her up makes him almost impossibly harder, but it turns into soft laughter as she realizes what he's up to. Her arms loop around his neck as he reaches the hallway and he can't help but stop to drop his mouth over hers once again. It's at this strange moment- holding Tara, bridal-style in the back hallway of his childhood home- that he feels something settle into place, and he draws back a little as it hits him- he's never going to get enough of her. Well, he knew that already; now, though, the realization floods him that the connection they have isn't going to go away, and suddenly he can see the years stretching out before them. Years of happiness, heartache, closeness, separation, family, friends… it isn't all easy or blissful, but it's there just the same; he can see it just as clearly as he can see her here in his arms. Jax is brought back to the present when her soft lips come seeking his, and as he brushes them with his own, he enters his bedroom and closes the door behind them with a foot.

Jax places her on the center of his bed but when he'd have normally crawled up to meet her, he stands at the foot of the bed and strips off his t-shirt. He's already reaching for his fly when Tara pulls of her shirt and lays back to slip her shorts and panties over her hips. The sight of her- the most beautiful girl in the world as far as he's concerned- lying on his bed in the nude, her heated gaze traveling over his body… it has him so hard it hurts. So much so that after he folds a condom into his hand and shucks down his jeans and boxers, he strokes himself just as he's done every night he's not spent with her since her return. Except, the vision before him is infinitely better than the one of her he'd kept in his head.

Tara's eyes widen- in surprise? arousal?- he's not sure, but it only takes a moment for a soft smile to cross her face. Then, it's his eyes that are widening as her hand drifts across her belly to rest in the patch of hair below it. God… he wants to touch her so bad, but watching her splayed out before him has him unable to move or breathe. His breath hitches along with hers as she runs two delicate fingers along her slit; when she parts herself slightly to stroke the nub beneath, she sucks in a breath and jerks her head to the side- and suddenly he can't stand it anymore.

Jerking into motion, he crawls up the bed to lie next to her and stashes the condom under a pillow; her eyes fly open as the bed dips beside her and they're decidedly moss green today, but darkening steadily even though her hand's stilled. Jax shakes his head insistently and grips himself again.

"Don't stop, babe." All he can manage is a whisper, but her pupils dilate just the same and suddenly he can't help asking, "Is this what you look like when you think of me?" Tara bites her lip before she nods, and he leans over to worry it free with his teeth so he can bite it gently himself. His free hand seems to move on its own volition, grazing its way down her arm until he can feel her fingers fluttering against herself. He sucks her bottom lip into his mouth once more before releasing it so he can whisper against her mouth once again. "What do you think about?"

Her eyes are shining into his as the blush slowly creeps up to her cheekbones, and if Jax wasn't practically dying to hear her answer, he'd have said to hell with it and rolled over her to claim her already. Her lips drop open and her eyes close, then, and a quick glance at her hand, rhythmically circling her smooth skin, tells him she's found the sweet spot he himself had found all those weeks ago at the cabin.

"Tara…" her eyes fly open again as, this time, he manages a murmur instead of a whisper. "What do you think about… when you touch yourself?" She groans softly, lets out a shaky breath before answering, at last.

"Your fingers…." Her voice trails off into a whimper as Jax replaces her fingers with his own, immediately delving deeper to find the spot she'd been stroking.

"Like this?" She doesn't answer, but her quickened breathing is answer enough as he slowly circles her. It's a few moments before she speaks again, but she absolutely blows him away when she does.

"It's always your hands, first; I've had them on my mind since the cabin, every time I… God, Jackson…" he slows his movements, then- he doesn't think he's ever wanted anything more than for her to finish her thought.

"Go on…" he chokes out, tightening his grip on himself.

"Your fingers here…" her hand drifts over his, then back up her body to graze a nipple, "…your mouth here." Promptly, he's releasing himself to brace on an elbow and suck a pink nipple into his mouth. It hardens as he traces its perimeter with his tongue and just as he's drawing the pebbled tip between his teeth, her voice comes, again. "And when I'm almost ready to…" her words devolve momentarily into a whimper as he increases the pressure with his fingers, just slightly "you push yourself into me. That's what I think about the most… that moment I'm about to fall over the edge and then you're inside me so I can feel you when I come."

Holy, holy shit. Jax almost comes himself as she describes the one thing she wants most, but he's determined to give it to her. Blindly, he reaches under the pillow for the condom; it's more difficult than he'd anticipated, one-handed, but he refuses to stop touching her as he tears the foil with his teeth and rolls the condom on as quickly as he can. Thank God he's gotten better at this or he really thinks he'd explode, fumbling around as he had the first time. That accomplished, he leans over her and quickens the pace his hand has set below.

"Tell me when, babe," is all he says before he captures her nipple with his teeth, pulling at it a bit before soothing it with his tongue. He alternates between light nips and deep pulls and it isn't long before Tara's breathless voice comes again.

"Now, Jackson… I need you now." Without hesitation, he slides between her legs and barely stops to guide himself as he parts her with one long stroke. As soon as he's buried within her she's clenching around him, and as he begins to move, her body jerks and shudders beneath him as her release begins. The sensation of her rippling around him is exquisite, and nearly an hour of holding back has him pulsing relentlessly into her. Their other times, he'd been careful to be gentle, considerate, but he's chasing his release and she's groaning his name and he just. Can't. Slow. Down. So, he tells her all the words of love he isn't sure he's showing her right now as he snaps his hips into hers, over and over.

"God, I love you, baby, So much. So fuckin' much…" and as his words devolve into a groan of his own- he's close, so fucking close- her cool hand is suddenly tugging on his balls and then he's exploding into the condom and coming so hard he swears he sees stars.

When Jax comes to again, he's draped over Tara's perfect body, still joined with her, his face sideways on the pillow beneath her head, his lips at her ear. Her lips are lazily brushing his shoulder and for the first time in days he feels content, ready to face what's coming his way with his father, her father, Clay… together, they've got this. Just once more, he whispers into her ear.

"You're so hot." She's giggling but the hand that's not pinned between them smacks him on the ass, and he jerks in shock before he joins her in laughter.

"Little late to be complimenting me, Teller. Especially since you already weaseled all my deepest darkest fantasies out of me." Jax smiles against her hair before he raises himself up on his elbows to drop a kiss on her mouth.

"Didn't hear you complaining too much a minute ago, Knowles." She rolls her eyes, but then narrows them at him as a thought occurs to her.

"And exactly when do I get to hear what you think about when you…" she raises an eyebrow, and he's caught up momentarily in how fucking adorable she is- he's still inside her and they'd just spent several minutes living out a fantasy she'd laid out pretty explicitly for him… but now she's blushing and hesitating to say whatever words she'd had in mind for 'jerk off'. Not that he blames her, touch yourself sounds a lot more like something that would come out of her mouth.

"When I touch myself?" Tara reddens again and nods; yep, still adorable. "You, riding me" he says, readily, and Tara's eyes get huge. "Don't worry, babe, we'll figure that out when the time comes. But… soon?" She nods again and reaches to clasp his neck to pull him down to her so she can brush her lips against his.

"Soon. I promise." God, they need to change the subject or he's going to be hard again and they'll be at this all day. Groaning, he slides out of her- careful to keep the condom in place- and rolls to lie at her side. He ties off the condom and tosses it into the trash under his nightstand, making a mental note to empty it before Gemma gets some harebrained idea to clean up his room. After a moment, Tara curls into his side and the minutes tick away as Jax's hand drifts up and down her hip.

"What time is it?" Her voice is groggy, and he realizes she's on the edge of sleep.

"Four… I say we stay right here until Mom calls to tell us how the scan went. Then we can clean up and head over to the hospital, depending on what she says."

"Mmmm…" Smiling, Jax disentangles himself and rises to yank the covers from underneath her; he slides in next to her as the comforter settles over them both and pulls her into his arms seconds before sleep overtakes him.


Jax awakens some time later to the phone ringing. Blearily, he searches for the receiver in his room after finding the cradle empty and curses whoever had thought portable phones were a good idea. He's about to give up and answer the line in the kitchen when he locates the handset under a heap of clothing on his dresser.

"Hello?"

"Christ, Jackson, I only called three times." Gemma's voice crackles over the line, and she doesn't sound pleased. "How many damn quarters you think I got? Don't answer that, I'm not using the others unless I have to. Your father was cleared for surgery; they took him straight from his CT a little bit ago."

"Mom, I-"

"I was hoping we'd be able to see him first, just in case… well anyway, that wasn't an option, I guess. But they expect it to take a few hours, then he'll be taken to a recovery room before they transfer him back to his regular room and we can see him. Be here by…" she must be checking the time "…eight. Visiting hours will be over, but I already cleared it with that bitch at the front desk- he should be out of recovery by then, if everything goes according to plan. Tara comin' back with you?"

"Of course, Ma."

"Figured, just wanted to make sure. Hey, make sure you eat before you come in and bring me somethin', too, will ya?"

"Got it. We'll see you later. Love you, mom."

"Love you too, Jackson."

Jax sits down on his bed with a sigh. He'd wanted to at least see his father before surgery- especially since it wasn't a given he'd make it out alive; though, he supposes there isn't a lot of difference between sitting with someone in a coma, or talking to someone that's passed already like he did Tommy. Still… Gently, he shakes Tara.

"Babe, we gotta go. We need to clean up and be at the hospital in a couple hours." He stifles a grin at her messy hair and drooping eyelids, but too late. She catches his laughter and glares at him.

"Go ahead and laugh. You got a few hours' sleep last night, plus you got to lie down- I slept sitting up in that damn chair. And, you didn't have to wake up to Unser hovering over you, either." Jax snorts.

"Yeah, just Gemma… seriously, though, babe. We gotta get in the shower." Grinning, he lands a smack on her ass- payback- and hopes it's enough to get her moving.

"Not happening, baby. I don't have any clothes here, and I am not putting these back on to ride, soaking wet, across town on the back of your bike… Jesus, get that smirk off your face, Teller, it wasn't that dirty of a comment…" He can't help but laugh as he grabs a towel and heads towards the bathroom.

"Fine, but you owe me another joint shower, then." He shuts the door before she can tell him exactly what she thinks of that remark.


It's 7:45 and as Jax pulls into the lot at St. Thomas, he realizes how good it's felt to get back on his bike. Some of the residual stress from the previous night melted away, though the rest, he's sure, isn't going anywhere any time soon. After Tara had cleaned up, they'd waited at her house for her father to make his appearance. She hadn't told him what she'd planned to say, just reassured him that she'd be able to gather some information about his supposed meeting with JT without Rick feeling interrogated. However, Rick had never showed. Tara's convinced he'd returned to his habit of hitting up the bars after work, though the possibility that he's off somewhere, meeting with Clay looms in the back of Jax's mind.

"Ayyy, Jackie Boy!" Chibs' greeting makes him smile, as it usually does, and Chibs and Clay are heading across the lot towards them. Well, so much for Rick meeting with Clay; though, he'd be interested to find out how long Clay's been here. "Yer old man's in the recovery room, boyo. How ya like tha'?" Chibs grabs his shoulders and shakes them a bit, jubilantly, and Jax can't help grinning back at him.

"He made it through the surgery, then?" Christ, its like the vise that's been clamped on his heart for the past hour has just been released.

"Aye. I dinnae think we'd be havin' this conversation after last nigh', but Doc's sayin' he's got a real chance of wakin' up if he's stable tonigh'." Chibs pulls him into a powerful hug, and Jax is surprised when he murmurs into his ear- much as he'd done the day Jax had first brought Tara to the garage. "Ah'll keep ma eye on Clay. Ye just focus on your da, alrigh'?" Jax nods and Chibs releases him to grin at arm's length. "Give him mah best, lad, okay? We'll see ye tomorrow."

Clay nods respectfully as he passes- though Jax can't help but notice that he doesn't seem particularly pleased with the news- and Chibs gives him one more pat on the shoulder before heading towards his own bike. They pass a few more Sons on the way in- all noticeably more cheerful than they'd been previously, and arguably in much better spirits than Clay. By the time they reach the waiting room, it's empty except for Gemma and Lowell, Sr.

Jax had always liked the mechanic alright, though he was twitchy and usually grumpy, to boot; likely, that's a personality trait you risk taking on when you're an on-again-off-again junkie. But he mostly just feels for Lowell, Jr. Senior's always bitching about being short on money- though Jax knows for sure JT had done his best to throw him some extra work whenever possible- and that's trickled down to Junior, from what he can tell; the recent dust-up with that Andrew kid in the parking lot's just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the flak Lowell Junior takes on behalf of his old man.

Lowell doesn't acknowledge Jax or Tara beyond a brief nod, though Gemma rises to hug both of them and give them the bit of information the surgeon had shared with her. They wait for what seems like days, though it's just under an hour; Jax is beginning to wonder just how many times Lowell's going to check his watch when Doctor Edmonds appears, looking exhausted but pleased. She smiles as she approaches, and begins talking before they've had a chance to stand and greet her.

"I know Doctor Russo already briefed you on the procedure, but the man's an even bigger pessimist than I am and I thought you should hear from someone who isn't all doom and gloom. The surgery went much better than expected- I believe textbook was the word he used to describe it. John's still unconscious, but the anesthetic's completely worn off; from his pupils and reflexes, I wouldn't be surprised if he's awake this time tomorrow, though it could be much longer."

Gemma's hand is clapped over her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks, and Tara's practically squeezing the life out of him. Suddenly, all thoughts of Clay, Rick and the club are gone, once again. All Jax can think of is telling his father he loves him… and this time, receiving a response. Edmonds is still talking, cautioning them against making plans, warning them about the long road ahead, but Jax is smiling so hard his cheeks hurt and he can't think of anything she could say that will make him stop any time soon. Tara's hand finds his as they follow Edmonds to JT's room, but as Jax looks over his shoulder to nod at Lowell, he finds the waiting room empty.