A/N - Gosh, it's taken me a while to get around to this! It's been work and a combination of factors, but I really hope you enjoy. There's some inner frustrations coming out - who can work out who stabbed Tig? Tell me your suspicions, I love them!
"Nina."
Nina could barely hear Chibs' voice as she stood there, a look of blank shock plastered across her face. Red blood, bright and crimson, glared back at her as she looked at Tig, his body twisted on the couch. Her hand shook as she raised it to her mouth, the foggy sounds of Chibs' commands muted to her ears.
"For fuck's sake, Nina!"
Chibs didn't mean to raise his voice like that, but in his moment of blind panic at the mess Tig lay in, he was unable to stop himself. There was something in his tone, something he'd never used on her. It was that presidential voice, the one that calmed an angry table, the one that subdued a rising argument. The one that commanded attention through fear. And, Christ, it scared her. Nina suddenly bolted, without a single word, she skidded towards the door.
Chibs turned but she had gone. He hesitated, the heel of his hand pressed into the pillow as he tried to stop Tig's bleeding. He whinnied a little, trying to get her attention, and he cursed as he realised he couldn't follow her as he held onto Tig. He growled low as he looked at Tig, shaking his head.
"You fuckin' selfish bastard," he muttered, pressing harder and with more annoyance. Tig's eyelashes fluttered as Chibs tried to dig out his phone, jabbing it with his elbow to call Bobby. The phone rang once before Bobby answered, and Chibs barked his order. "Get me help, now," he demanded. "And have Juice track Nina, she's lost her fucking mind."
Nina didn't know where she was going but the overwhelming need to get away from that house was inexplicable. She ran, even though it pained her to do so, hurling herself with force as she pelted the pavement. Her mind was swimming with information, Natasha's words on the phone, Chibs' lack of answers and Tig…
Jesus. She stopped for a second, pinching the bridge of her nose. Tig, half fucking dead on the couch. After their moment together the night before, she had been so sure that he was better. Better mentally, maybe even a better person. But Natasha's call had thrown her into turmoil and she leaned one hand against a tree as she bent over to vomit. Fuck, she could feel her head spinning, a complete and confused mess.
She ran her hand through her hair, keeping it back from her face, and looked around her. She could hear the bikes, they were already coming her way, and she ducked behind the tree as the Harleys roared past on their way to the house. She swallowed, trying to keep her breathing shallow to listen for when they had passed. What the hell was she doing?
She wished she had a phone, or some money, anything really, but she had left the house in such a state, she had nothing. She looked down at her bare legs and feet: in her hurry, she had come out in nothing but her nightdress. She could feel herself becoming light-headed as she peeked around, checking that the way was clear of Sons before she stumbled out, eager to get as far away from this mess as she could.
As she started to walk, her pace just a little too quick to be comfortable, she heard a car pull up behind her. Confident it wasn't a member of the club, she kept her speed but hurried as she heard her name. "Nina?" If she had been focused, she would have realised who called out to her but she didn't stop until she felt his hand on her. "Nina?"
The sound of Nero's voice almost made her collapse with relief. She faced him, her lost eyes settling on her father with an eager need for support. He whimpered as he saw her, crushing her to him in a bear hug.
"Hey, hey, I got you, little mama," he said softly as she started to sob into his chest. Her whole body was heaving as she shook in his hold, and Nero braced himself against her sleight weight as he cuddled her. "Let me take you to Diosa, huh? Get you inside. Come on," he murmured, ushering her into his car. She didn't take much persuasion, and Nero pressed her to sit, leaning in to buckle her in like she was a little girl all over again. "Don't worry, babygirl. Daddy's here."
The Sons sat around the pastel-painted hospital room, palms pressed awkwardly together as they all waited. Chibs had his eyes closed in dark contemplation, chewing on the knuckles of one hand as he leaned his elbow into his knee. Bobby stared at him expectantly, and he eventually sighed.
"What do you want, Elvis?"
Bobby moved closer and lowered his voice. "You know it looks bad. Him? In your house?"
Chibs rolled his eyes. "If I wanted him gone, I'd kill him," he muttered shortly. "He's no good knocking around half-dead to me."
"You know what I mean," Bobby whispered. Chibs shook his head and crossed his arms as he sat up straight, furious at the suggestion.
"Aye, I hear you, loud and clear. Don't trust me?" He snorted. "He's pissed off all sorts. Tommy," he said, suddenly dropping his tone down to a murmur. "He flipped, about Emily. Told Tash, told God knows who else. It could have been him. It could have been anyone," he added, opening his hands up as he gestured around the room. "Hit from another club, Christ only knows."
"In your house?" Rat looked up, calm and quiet. "Someone got in, got out, you didn't notice?"
Chibs swallowed, he hadn't even thought of that. Somebody had been in his home, but there'd been no sign of a disturbance or a break in. The idea that this was some sort of inside job made him feel nauseous. Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Another club ain't gonna pop by, Prez. What about Nina? She with you last night?"
Chibs immediately stood, kicking at the seat. "She would have got to him this morning, that's for sure," he muttered. "Tash called her, told her everything about the Irish shoot out. She'd have slit his fucking throat if someone hadn't got there first."
"Should have finished the job." Happy's voice was frightening and cold, his stare almost dead. There was something unholy in his eyes, something Chibs had never seen in him. "That prick. What he's done to Tash? To Nina? He deserved it."
Chibs narrowed his eyes. "Aye, but that's a club decision. It's not for you to make." Happy's nostrils flared at the suggestion and he rose to his feet.
"You suggesting I did it?"
He stepped forward but the sudden entrance of Jax, fresh-faced and eager to rejoin his club, stopped him from ploughing straight into Chibs with the force he was preparing for him. "Woah, woah, woah," Jax called out quickly, stepping in front of Happy and pressing a hand to his chest to keep them apart. "What the hell's going on here, brothers?"
Chibs chuckled. "Welcome back, Jackieboy," he muttered, slapping his back as he stared at Happy challengingly. "Just talking about skipping a Mayhem vote."
"You think I've had left him hanging?" Happy snapped. "I'd have torn him apart. You're the idiot that lets him walk around here, fucking shit up. What were you doing, Prez? Teaching him a lesson?"
"I'll teach someone a goddamn lesson!"
If Jax hadn't been so quick to react, Chibs was sure to have flattened Happy through rage alone. Grateful to be integrated back in with his brothers, Jax wrestled Chibs back, trying to calm him as Bobby and Quinn manhandled Happy back into a seat. Jax lowered his voice, trying to calm his president.
"Save it for the table," he said quietly. "You've finally got your club back together, Chibs. Let's just get Tig back on his feet and we'll have all the answers we need."
