Episode 9: Kiss
Differences in their kuttes
When you wear something everyday, it becomes a part of you. It becomes something that is completely yours. You begin to feel naked without out it. So it's only fitting that after time, this item begins to take on elements of yourself.
Piney's kutte is denim, for reasons that have kind of been left vague. It's become a sort of urban legend in club lore, that they were too poor in the beginning to afford a bunch of leather, so Piney drew the short straw and got denim. Others say it's because he hated the feel of leather. Others yet proclaim it's because he felt it gave him a more '70's' vibe. Jax and Opie asked once, when they were little. He told them it was because it had more pockets.
Bobby's kutte has little designs along the edges for no reason other than he saw it at a rally and thought it looked cool. The guys of the club gave him shit as he sewed it on, calling him girly. Bobby didn't care. It made him different, it made him stand out. And he's proud of that.
Clay's kutte carries little reminders on it- how he got his Men of Mayhem patch, the paratrooper pin that commemorates his time overseas, the Redwood Original that signifies that he came to Charming and he will never leave. However, the most important thing on his kutte is the president patch. He fought for the patch, killed for it, bled for it. It is his life's work, it is his power, his destiny, his calling. The day he put the reaper on his back was a great day, but the day he sewed that president patch on was the best day.
Juice's kutte is still stiff. It's only been on his back a couple years, versus decades on the others. He takes painstaking care of it, making sure that he doesn't leave it crumpled on the floor. It's more than a piece of leather to him, it's a purpose and family and his life. He dreams about all the patches he'll add to it. He doesn't think to wonder what they will cost him.
Jax's kutte is comfy. It's well worn. It has the familiarity of a favorite teeshirt or a blanket from childhood. It sits just right on him. The kutte isn't so much Jax's as Jax is the kutte. He's the youngest VP to ever sit at the table, he got the Men of Mayhem patch the quickest, all of it. But the sickles on his collar, those are special. One for John, one for Thomas. For the people that the Reaper has already taken, and to remind him that everything in life may change, but the Reaper won't.
Why you can't commit suicide "Sons don't kill themselves."
Weakness. It's a trait reviled in Sons. A lot of insults are thrown around the club- bitch, ass, cunt, dick, jackass, fuckhead, whatever. Pick your poison. None is as bad as weak. Weak is an attack on your character, who you are.
The Sons are not weak. The whole club was founded, built on the notion that those 9 men were stronger than most, braver than most, that they were different from the others. That's why they needed to stick with each other, because the rest of society didn't give a damn.
Weakness comes in all different forms- it might be not stomaching that fifth shot of tequila. It might be letting a crow eater run your life. It might be backing out of a bet or dare. It's tears, it's pain, it's grief and anguish. The Sons do not show weakness. And Sons don't kill themselves.
Suicide is the ultimate weakness, it always has been. It's the public and final declaration that you can't handle this life, can't handle what the kutte requires. It is shameful and weak and everything a Son is not.
Any other way is fine. An overdose, well at least you died happy. By gunfire, well at least you died brave. A crash, well at least you died doing what you love. If you die for the club, you get a funeral with crowds of kuttes, with a motorcade to rival a fallen hero, and a legend of your own in the club.
But don't end your own life. It'll strip you of your kutte, of your family, of your legacy. Anything you worked for in life will be gone. Your family will be shunned, will be snubbed. You will be erased, scratched out of photos, forgotten. Your name will not be spoken.
Don't kill yourself. It's a simple task. Don't be weak. Take your hurts. Bear the weight of what you've done, and do it until the end. The Reaper will take you, you cannot go to the Reaper. Because that would be weakness. And the Sons are not weak.
Gemma finding Piney's body "I told you, you stupid old man!"
Piney. Oh, Piney… Oh, god. Oh my god. Piney.
You old bastard, what did you do? Why couldn't you just leave things damn well alone like you should have? Why did you have to be so damn loyal, and to John of all people?
You stubborn bastard. You just couldn't see what was coming. You were so set in your goddamn ways. The world was changing and you turned a blind eye to it.
God, so many of us gone. How far have we come? The days when it was you and John, in your prime… Why didn't you just let sleeping dogs lie? You knew Clay, you knew how much he loves this club.
You knew he would do this. Did you think he wouldn't because it's you? Because you were first 9 that you'd be protected? You and I know best that Clay is ruthless, is merciless. You should have seen this coming!
No, no, you couldn't. You were so self-righteous. Look where your justice got you now Piney. Dead, dead at the hand of one of your best friend, all because you had to go digging up the past. Why? Why?
You knew this would kill Jax. You knew what those letters would do! How dare you? How dare anyone? Those letters are meant to be destroyed, to be burned! They are a poison and they kill everyone they touch! Why couldn't you see that?
Oh Piney… How am I going to tell your son? How am I going to tell your grandkids? How am I going to tell Mary? Why does everyone I love die bloody? Why, why couldn't you just…
Goddamnit Clay. God fucking damnit. You couldn't let me handle it. You idiot. Now I have to clean up this mess. You try to fight fire with fire, hide death by killing more.
He was your friend! He was your longest friend! You couldn't spare a bit of rationality to see that Piney already had one foot in the grave? We would've been fine. I could've fixed this. But now…
Piney.
At least you're with John.
Tara realizing they have to get out
"Mama!" Abel is wailing and Tara carefully picks up Thomas, walking over to the side of the park that Abel is on. He's perched beneath a slide, knees to chest, eyes glistening with tears.
"Abel, what's wrong?" Tara kneels, brushing back his hair, looking at him in concern.
"Big kids are mean." He grumbles, swiping angrily at his wet cheeks.
"C'mon." Tara gently helps him up, pulling him close to her. "Let's go have a snack." She guides him back to where she was playing with Thomas and reading. He takes the grapes she offers and that at least seems to calm him somewhat.
"What's wrong Abel?" Phil is perched on the bench by them, looking at Abel with concern.
"Big kids were mean." Tara reveals, absentmindedly flipping through the medical journal she had been reading.
"To you?" Phil asks and Abel nods, eating another grape. "Want me to go beat them up?" He offers and that gets a smile out of Abel.
"Phil." Tara admonishes and he looks at her with wide eyes. "Don't teach him that. Don't teach him that violence will solve things."
"Yes ma'am." Phil ducks his head and focuses on cutting up an apple for Abel. As her boys babble, Tara pretends to be reading so she won't have to meet Phil's eyes.
She knows it was a joke. He was just teasing, trying to make Abel laugh and feel better. If Aleta had said it she would've laughed. It would've been funny. But when someone in a kutte says it, it makes Tara's blood run cold.
It's not funny when they could, and would, follow through. She has no doubt that if Abel wished it, if he expressed any displease or anger at something, that Jax would make the club move heaven and earth to please him. Not that she wouldn't. She'd do anything for her boys. But she wouldn't do it with guns blazing and fists flying.
"Alright, I think we've had enough." She announces, putting the journal back in her bag and hoisting Thomas up. Abel protests, as he always does, but Tara promises that they'll get a treat when she gets groceries. Phil carries him to the car, pretending to fly him. Abel's giggle is music to her ears and by the time they walk into the grocery store, Phil trailing behind them, she's smiling again.
"Anything I can grab?" Phil asks and Tara consults her list, looking between the groceries and household items.
"Do you know what kind of diapers Thomas wears?" She raises an eyebrow and Phil hides a small smile.
"Yes ma'am."
"Alright, then you run and grab this stuff." She hands him Thomas and the list of supplies, cleaners, and other items. He takes it and a cart, veering off.
"Ice cream." Abel points to the frozen section and Tara fights back a smile. A boy after her own heart.
"Yes, we'll get that after, ok?" She promises. "First, we need to get some milk…" She's wandering down the aisles, trying to recall if they have enough lasagna noodles to make it this week, when a woman behind her gasps.
"Oh, your son." Tara turns to see the woman, automatically placing herself between Abel and the woman. She's tall, with long red hair and a copious amount of eye makeup, wearing a tight black dress and clunky boots. "He is adorable."
"Thank you." Tara moves aside slightly, feeling ridiculous for being suspicious in a grocery store. The woman moves to smile at Abel, wiggling her fingers.
"Hi." Abel says happily and Tara smiles at her extroverted child.
"Hello." She's smiling at him brightly. "You look so much like your father, yes you do."
"Oh, you know Jax?" Tara tries to hide the hardness in her tone of voice, resisting the urge grab Abel and run.
"Yeah." The woman glances up from Abel and smiles, extending her hand. "Tasha, I've known Gemma for ages."
"Oh, how nice." Tara says politely, wondering what she wants.
"And you are just the most handsome boy." She's already got her attention back on Abel. "How old are you?"
"Three!" Abel says, grinning. Tasha continues to talk to Abel while Tara stands to the side and watches, trying to keep a smile on her face.
"You be good for your mama you hear?" Tasha orders Abel, who nods seriously. She straightens up and glances at Tara. "He does look just like Jax." She says and Tara nods, moving to smooth Abel's hair.
"He's a handsome boy." She says quietly and Tasha nods, satisfied.
"Charming's handsome little prince." With another little wave, Tasha pushes her cart around the corner but Tara is frozen in her spot, the words echoing around in her skull. Abel. The next prince. Charming's prince.
Part of her knew, logically, that this would happen. But she always hated when Jax was called that in their youth. It felt so final, so demanding, so… Ominous. It hovered over them and their future and in the end, he chose his kingdom over her.
Abel cannot be the next prince. Princes must lose their fathers to become kings. Her blood runs cold at the thought of Jax following in his father's footsteps, of Abel following in Jax's, of the wheel of destiny turning, turning, turning…
"Mama?" Abel's voice startles her out of her thoughts. "Ice cream?"
"Yes sweet boy." She presses a kiss to his forehead. "We can get ice cream." As she pushes their full cart to meet Phil and Thomas at the register, she wishes for nothing more than the ability to gather her sons in her arms and run to where no one knows their royal blood.
"Doctor's pussy's clouding who you are son."
"Jax." Clay's voice stops him before he can get out of the stop and Jax cringes, slowing down and turning. Clay raises an eyebrow.
"Yeah?" Jax asks with faux innocence.
"Where you headed?" Clay tosses his greasy rag over his shoulder and leans against a lift.
"Well, it's 3:30." Jax glances at the clock on the wall. "And I worked through lunch so I figured it'd be fine if I left a little early."
"Sure." Clay has a knowing smirk on his face and Jax shifts impatiently. He just wants to be curled up under the blankets with her. He's been daydreaming about this since he dragged himself out of bed this morning and came into work.
"Ok, bye!" Jax tries to duck out again.
"Jackson." Clay calls him back with ease and Jax surpasses a groan, turning and raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah?"
"Where you headed?" Clay repeats and Jax grits his teeth for a moment before reminding himself that he's an adult and even in Clay is his stepfather, he has no right to tell him what to do. Besides, this is his normal routine.
"Tara's." He says easily, with a nonchalant shrug.
"Should I tell your mother you won't be home for supper?" Clay offers and Jax shrugs.
"Sure, thanks." Again, he tries to leave.
"She'll be mad." Clay declares and Jax turns, ready to defend his girlfriend for the millionth time from his mother. "Because I'm not coming home either." Clay tosses his rag onto the counter. "C'mon, there's club shit."
"What kind of club shit?" Jax asks, grabbing his prospect kutte from a hook on the wall and slinging it on over his dirty work clothes.
"Call Opie." Clay orders and Jax ducks into the office, grabbing the phone. He knows Opie's home phone number by heart, waiting impatiently for his best friend to pick up.
"Hey, club shit." He doesn't bother with a greeting.
"On my way." Opie hangs up and Jax glances out into the courtyard of the clubhouse as a couple bikes roll in. Then he dials Tara's number.
"Hello?" She sounds happy. He can about imagine her sunny smile.
"Hi babe." He can't help but smile.
"Jax. Where are you? Usually you're here when I get home." Tara doesn't sound too concerned, just a little disappointed. "I was just about to hop into the shower." Jax's hand tightens on the edge of the desk.
"I, uh," He swallows so he doesn't sound so strangled. "Um, I gotta stay at work just a little longer."
"I thought you were going to work through lunch." Tara is frowning now, he can tell.
"I know, but we have a ton of stuff to get done." He lies through his teeth. He knows if Tara finds out he's there for the club, she'll hang up on him without batting an eye.
"Well work hard then." She sighs. "I guess I'll shower alone and get some homework done."
"I love you." He tells her and he means it.
"I love you too." She says sweetly.
"Prospect!" Clay bellows.
"Gotta go, bye." Jax hangs up the phone and walks out of the office, smiling. "Yeah pres?"
"Opie coming?" Clay asks as the pair of them walk into the clubhouse.
"On his way." Jax reassures him, walking behind the bar and grabbing beers, opening them with ease. "How long is this going to take?"
"Why, got a hot date?" Clay questions, taking a beer from Jax.
"The hottest." Jax jokes and knows to drop it at that. Clay snorts in amusement, shrugs, and walks into church. Jax stays at the pair, sliding beers to whoever walks in. A couple minutes later Opie joins him and the two of them speculate what might be going on when the heavy wooden doors close. They're not kept waiting for more than 15 minutes, when the club streams back out and Clay informs them they'll be lookouts for this mission.
"Tara know where you're at?" Opie asks, as they sit on their bikes and watch as the sun gets closer and closer to kissing the horizon.
"Thinks I'm at work." Jax admits, smoking a cigarette absentmindedly. "Though the longer we sit here, the more I'm thinking I'm going to have to make up a story about getting in a fight with my mother or something. Donna?"
"Knows I'm with my dad." Opie explains, stomping out his own cigarette. "Not much more than that."
"Shit." Jax sighs and rubs his face. "I have no idea how to do this."
"Balance the two?" Opie guess and Jax nods.
"Simple." Clay is walking out of the warehouse, pulling his gloves on. "Club always come first boys. Doesn't matter how good that pussy is, don't forget that SAMCRO is your calling."
Jax ponders these words as he drives to Tara's house, the sunset coloring everything golden. He takes off his kutte and shoes when he walks in, noticing that he has grease and dirt covering his hands. He washes them in the kitchen sink and when he shuts the sink off, Tara is in the kitchen, arms folded.
"Hi babe." Jax tries to sound offhand, but Tara doesn't fall for it.
"Where were you?" She demands without preamble and he flinches.
"Work." He tries and Tara rolls her eyes, storming back to her room.
"I'm not an idiot!" She yells, slamming the door.
"I know that." Jax slumps tiredly against the wall in the hallway, too tired to fight.
"Then why do you think you can blatantly lie to me?" Tara sounds like she's throwing shit so Jax just puts his head in his hands and wonders if he should've just told Clay no.
AN: It's a cold and dreary day here- leave reviews to brighten it up?
