Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story.
Three Princes
A sequel to "Intended"
Chapter 38
I don't know why I'm still standing here by this door, looking out into the hallway through the little, vertical slat of glass that is its excuse for a window. Tara asked some nurse to show us all down to the surgical waiting room, said it would be where the doctor operating on Joss would go to look for us all after the surgery and let us know how she was. I don't really know where the operating rooms are in this place, but I do know that I'd seen them wheeling Joss up the hallway I've been keeping watch over, because maybe, just maybe, they'd wheel her back down it again too, even though I know she'd be headed for ICU and not back to the ER. Whatever, it's not like it matters, because what I know and what I've got going crazy inside me aren't playing this thing like it's a team sport. Man, I have to know how she is, I have to know she's okay, all my hopes and fears colliding like weather fronts inside me, creating more tempestuous mayhem than I can really stand anymore. I'm not usually like this, I don't pace, I don't get too anxious, I don't worry so much or so hard that it makes black spots appear before my eyes when it really gets rolling in my head. I didn't have the chance to get like this with Donna; it was over and done with before I could worry…Donna. But Joss? She's got the market for driving me insane with worry cornered. I haven't sat down since the nurse escorted us here…I've just been standing…watching…for Joss.
Everyone else here is dealing with this a lot better than I know I am. Juice has been sitting there with his feet up on the magazine covered coffee table and his cell to his ear, talking to Lauren for the last hour, telling her what happened, from the beat up old church to Joss's pregnancy. It's nothing disrespectful, Juice doesn't do that, but I'm still tired of hearing it, no matter how well intentioned it is. I can tell that he and Lauren are already making plans to come visit her. Good, Joss would like that, Juice is a nice guy, Lauren's a great girl, a visit from them would go far to make Joss feel better after something like this. But as glad as I am to know what they've been discussing, I really wish they'd just end the call and shut up. I wish everyone and everything would shut up…I'm trying to…trying to what? It's not like I can hear what's going on in surgery, it's not like there's some continuous, drop of a pin quiet whisper being broadcast into this room that is giving us the play by play of Joss's condition. What the hell am I trying to do that requires such total silence? Who knows…there's just a lot of things bunching up in my mind and heart, like beach traffic on a Friday afternoon, but there's no off ramp…none. I'm stuck here, inside my own head. I don't like this feeling, I don't like how it feels…it's foreign and strange, feels like I borrowed it from someone else.
Waiting doesn't help this worry or this feeling. This has got to be the worst thing in the world, waiting. You're dangling at the mercy of some decision that's being slowly lowered down to where you can receive it, but until then you just…wait. It takes a toughness that I never really considered before, and I don't think very many people have it. Tig sure as hell doesn't. Tig, the bastard's not even here. Maybe they were smart enough to lie to him about doing that blood test he was demanding, and then security just tossed his crazy ass out the exit door? I hope they did, I can't take anymore of him tonight. Tara told him that Joss was bleeding out, told him she was pregnant, told him she needed surgery, told him they'd lost the baby, and he sat there like he hadn't heard any of it…sat there like a man that had dragged Joss off to one of the ugliest places in Charming, then forced her to stand bare footed in its clutter and filth while he married her! Christ Joss, you deserved better than that!
But the real tragedy of the night was how I just stood there and watched it all happen from the putrid wedding to Tig's inattentiveness to Joss's circumstances. I didn't take up for her, despite that I know she deserves better, a better wedding, a better amount of sympathy and care...a better man. I'd have been a patient here myself as well, but I could have tried to stop that wedding…I should have asked her if that was what she'd wanted…someone should have, and if it wasn't me, well, it wasn't me, and no one else had. And now she was married…to Tig…with a wedding to match that clusterfuck of a husband it gave her. That's it; I'm not failing her anymore tonight, or ever again. If I see her being rolled passed this window again, I'm out the door and following along behind her gurney. I won't leave her; I won't let anything or anyone fuck with the time she'll need to get over this, from the wedding to the loss of a child. Fuck Tig! We've been here for over three hours and he still hasn't joined us! In my mind, that becomes abandonment more and more, and the club has a policy in place for such things.
I couldn't get my head around Tig being married, looks like he couldn't either. Just a few hours ago he stood there and promised to be with Joss through "sickness and health," so where the fuck was he? He left her, it got too real for him, and he left her. Yeah…if that's how Tig was going to play this, by abandoning her, by running off somewhere and forgetting about it, then Joss is mine; that's how I'm going to play it! How is this not abandonment? Clay's here, Bobby's here, Juice is here, Chibs is here, Sack's here, and I'm here! But is Tig here? At the moment, I'd say we've all got more ownership over Joss than Tig is currently claiming…hell; I have more ownership of her than he does at this instant! She's not just Tig's wife, she's Tig's property; if he goes AWOL, throws her out, or better yet, dies, then Joss becomes the property of the club, the same as any of the other things that Tig owns. And if Tig is gone, and he is now, then Joss by default is property of the club; I'll buy her from the club! Yeah…locked inside the firebox in the attic I have about seven hundred dollars…if that isn't enough to satisfy Clay and the rest of the guys, it's at least a good down payment. This is doable…it's done!
I'm feeling energized by the decision I've come to, but I'm reminding myself that I have no idea how long Joss's recovery process is going to take and not just from the surgery. That was going to be the easy part, a few days, a few stitches and she'd be fine in the physical sense…I hope. Losing the baby, yeah, that might take time too, but I'm not worried about that either. She could be the picture of health when she wakes up, but it wasn't going to matter when she woke up without Tig at her bedside. Joss has her problems, her momentary lapses into a darkness she can't control, but I still don't understand what she sees in Tig…I just know she loves him, more than can be good for someone to love anyone. But I'll be there with her through it all, I'll get her over him, I'll be everything to her that he can't be or won't be…which is a lot of things, I realize. And what I can't be to her, I'll get her a counselor to help her find them; maybe a therapist will even eliminate those violent, screaming fits she has. That has to stop, but I'm confident we can get it to stop; she needs to be shown how to appreciate who she is and what's special about her. Tig keeps her like a pretty, little goldfish in a bowl; no wonder she goes crazy. I won't do that to her, I'll tell her everyday how brilliant she is, how there's nothing in the world that she can't do; I'll let her exercise that genius level IQ. If I can fill her up with what's so great and so positive about her, maybe it'll put an end to those frightening spells? But even if it doesn't, I already know one thing; I'll never jam handle bars in her mouth and jerk her back with enough force to break her neck! I still can't believe Tig did that…he could have killed her! But how would I get control of that freak show if it happened? I don't know yet, I hope to somehow avoid it…Joss's meltdown did take out Stahl for me, but it's time to put those…bouts of demonic possession of hers to bed and just let Joss live. Joss will be fine, I'll make her happy, I'll give her a normal life.
In the middle of all my plans I can hear footsteps coming down the hallway I'm guarding, my heart starts to pound in the hopes of getting a glimpse of Joss, even though I can tell whoever it is that's walking isn't pushing a gurney, and they're also coming from the opposite direction. Maybe it's Joss's surgeon? It's been almost three hours now; they had to be nearing the end if not finished, didn't they? I don't know anything about repairing blood vessels, but it definitely feels like it's time for at least an update if not word that Joss is out of surgery. I began to lean forward enough to crane my neck and try to look down the hall as the footsteps got closer, hoping to see the all too familiar blue-green color of scrubs and surgical gowns appearing, but I don't. What I do see shocks me.
Jax smiles at me as he reaches for the handle of the door I'm blocking, so I move out of the way to let him in, even though it makes me start to panic that I'll miss something in the hallway. He's my best friend…I think…I don't know, it's so hard to know anymore given his current status with the club…I'm not even sure why Clay's still allowing him to wear that cut…I don't think I would. Clay, Bobby and all the rest lift their heads in the direction of the opening door, everyone sees Jax is here, but no one gets up to greet him. What's he even doing here? Why do I feel like I wish he wasn't?
"Hey Ope," he says as he comes in the door, but he's got that low tone of voice people greet each other with at funerals. I nod, extend a hand, but I get a one armed hug instead…funny, that doesn't feel like brotherhood anymore. But, nonetheless, he is still my friend until this thing breaks wider open than it already has, I guess. And I did really need someone else on my side right now, someone who knew me.
"Tara call you?" I ask, and Jax is looking at me strangely, noticing I haven't moved, I'm still leaning here in the doorway, most of my attention on the hall.
"Yeah, she got a hold of me when you all showed up," He answers and for a moment looks out into the hall with me to see what it is I'm watching…but I'm not watching anything, I'm watching for something. "How's Joss?" Jax says, seeing the same nothing that I was seeing, but not understanding what it meant.
I feel a shudder, than an ache overwhelm me; Joss is mine, that's how she was, that's all I'd been thinking the whole time I'd been standing here, but that's not what Jax is asking me, that's not why he came here. She's not his literal sister, he's not actual family, why's he here? Who is he supporting? Tig? Yeah, right! I'm starting to feel like I wish Jax would have called me before he showed up, so I could have told him it was alright, Joss didn't need him, she had me. She was mine, I got to decide now who was around her and who wasn't. Well, she was almost mine…almost. Still, I'm the one being asked about Joss, I'm the one about to answer about how she was…yeah, she was mine! "Still in surgery," I say like I somehow secretly know more than that. "Got her here just in time; praying that our luck holds out."
"Yeah," Jax agrees, but then looks over towards the rows of empty chairs, expecting we could sit down and talk about it, but I don't budge. But I can see he also realizes something's wrong here, and it's not about me. "Where's Tig?"
"Who cares?" I grumble back to him and resume watching out the slim window in the door. Tig wasn't here where he should have been, Tig was gone, he'd given Joss up.
Jax smiles a bit, how many times had both he and I formulated that response in our heads to that question in the past…back in the days when Jax was still one of us? "You wanna sit?" He asks, and points towards the bank of connected, light green and blue striped padded chairs right across from the post I've assigned myself. "They just finished this place; Tara said they tried to give it a relaxing but upbeat look. I guess sage walls, gray carpeting and oak coffee tables make that happen somehow, care to try it?"
"I'm good." I reply, and try to hide how annoying it is that he sounds like he's talking about this waiting room like it's his place, like he's inviting me into his house. But why am surprised? Being John Teller's son meant the club was his, so being with Tara must have also meant Jax owned Saint Thomas's too…that seemed to be how he understood the way of things.
"Ope," Jax grimaces and looks around the room, how all my brothers are huddled up, but Tig's missing, and here I am all the way over by the door. "Something happen between you and Tig?" He asks, and when I give him the obvious "duh!" look, he amends his question. "I mean, 'something else' happen between you and Tig?"
I start to chuckle, I can't help it, that's a good one, Jax standing there thinking I'm being shunned by the club because somewhere in all that went down tonight, I jacked Tig up. I wish that happened, but it didn't matter now, Tig was gone. Something else had happened between psycho and me though…even if psycho didn't know it yet himself, wherever he was. Jax won't understand, at least, I'm not explaining it. "I was best man at the wedding." I say, that's "something else" that happened between me and Tig, so it's an honest answer.
Jax takes a step back and looks at me again, but I don't really know what it is he's focusing on because my eyes are glued to the hallway. Joss…how much longer was it going to be before I could see her…and then claim her? Jax gives the rest of the club one more quick scan, then his eyes are on me again as he tugs at my arm, pushing the door open. "C'mere," he says, and pulls me out of the waiting room to talk privately. I don't feel like talking, there's way too many things inside of me to try to and talk about anything, but, oh well, at least I'm in the hallway now; if Joss gets wheeled down this way, I won't miss her! "You're scaring me, Ope. What's going on?" Jax is asking me, but I'm not looking at him, my eyes are tracing the path that I'd seen Joss being taken away in. "Ope!" Jax says again, only this time he grabs my cut and gives me a hard shake.
Damn it, I guess I have to talk to him, I guess I have to tell him, to get him off my back. Well, in a way, it'll be good to talk about it to someone, and it's not like the rest of the club would hear it now. I'd tell them eventually, but now was too soon. Reluctantly I shift my eyes from the hallway to Jax. "Tig left," I tell him with unabashed directness. "He's gone, so I'm taking Joss now."
Jax kinda jerks back, startled and then his brows knit together as he stares at me. "What?" He asks, almost laughing like he thinks I'm joking, but then I guess he saw that I wasn't. "You aren't serious, are you? How do you even know Tig's really gone?"
What? Why is he challenging me? Aren't I better for Joss than Tig? What's wrong with Jax? I try not to let on that he's shaking my confidence. "I know that if he loved her, he'd be here right now!" I say staunchly, daring Jax to disagree.
But he is disagreeing with me! He's standing here shaking his head. "Ope, c'mon, man! You gotta get out of this Joss thing, someone's going to end up getting killed!"
That's it; that was the last thing I wanted to hear! I lay eyes on Jax now, staring down at him like I'm even taller than him than I actually am. Now I'm shaking my head, about to explain it all for him and let him know that this is going to happen, and that he can't do a damn thing about it. "You're wrong," I half growl, and it's the first time I've ever talked to Jax with this tone of voice. "Tig quit her, Joss is unofficially an asset of the club's, but before it even becomes official, I'm buying the club out. I have the money. I'll own Joss, she'll be mine."
Jax gasps, looks at me like he's seeing a side of me he doesn't recognize, and I guess he wouldn't; I don't recognize it. "Ope…man," he sighs, his fingers rubbing at his chin like doing so might make a better selection of words arrive on his tongue than what he's already got. Finally he just sighs, looks at me and starts shaking his head again. "Jesus, do you hear yourself? You're jumping to ridiculous conclusions! You're going to 'buy' her? You're going to 'own' her?" He repeats for my benefit, but I know what I said…and I saw nothing wrong with it. "It's like you're turning into Tig!" Jax half shouts, and I all of sudden feel the bottom drop out of the floor I'm standing on. Good Lord…am I?