A/N - Two parts to this chapter, both starting with the same question and both conversations, somehow, reaching the same conclusion. But what's revealed in them? You tell me... who did what? ;)


"Are you okay?"

Nero could see Nina's hands clamped firmly around the glass he had given her. She was staring into the brown whisky, as if just staring into it would solve all of her problems, and she let the air out of her lungs in a rush as he rested his hand on her shoulder. His knee nudged hers in solidarity and, slowly, she drew her eyes toward him.

"No, I'm not, Daddy." She was chewing on her lip, her teeth tearing at the flesh in a gnawing action, and Nero watched her grinding away until her skin tore through. Blood stained her lip and he grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it instantly to her mouth to stem the dark red pouring out. "I don't know what to do," she whispered, shaking her head. He could hear her breathing becoming faster as panic overwhelmed her, and Nero put his arm around her, crushing her into him as he kissed her forehead. Nina allowed herself a gentle sob as she buried her face in his chest. "He killed Emily, Daddy. Tig, he shot her. For the club. For allegiance to the fucking club."

The words sank into Nero's chest and felt the same confusing mess of bile and hatred swill up into his throat. If he had been alone, he would have punched something, probably roared out of Diosa with a gun and taken it to Alex Trager's head without a thought for the consequences, but knowing that Nina needed him was the only thing that kept him seated.

"How do you know?"

His words were quiet, eerily calm, and Nina closed her eyes. "Thomas, he was there. He told Natasha." She drew away from him for a moment as Nero took her hand in his. "They knew, Daddy. All of them, they were all there and they all lied. Bobby. Juice." Her face went pale. "Filip."

That son of a bitch. Nero was finding it harder to keep his cool now, his grip on her fingers was becoming tighter and he only let go when Nina whimpered, withdrawing her hand from his. Nero stood up, pushing his hair back from his face with his hands and he began to pace, anxious and concerned. He looked at her for a moment. "They all knew?"

"Except the ones at Stockton," she replied quietly. "Hap, Jax." Nero laughed at that darkly. Jax would probably be the only one to be honest with him about it, after all of the trouble he had caused in the past. "Daddy, what do I do?"

There was only one answer. Nero rested his hand on his hip for a moment before crouching down in front of her, tilting her chin up to look her in the eyes.

"You leave," he replied softly. "There's no other answer now. You have to go."

"What about Tash?" The fear descended over Nina's expression as she said it and Nero's heart skipped a beat, seeing the difficulty she was in. "She and Hap, I can't just leave her here, not with the club. Not when they're lying to us like that. He promised me, Daddy. Chibs. He promised me that all the shit was done."

Nero could see the conflict in her eyes. She was in the position he had always wanted to keep her away from, the one that mixed her loyalty to the club with her instinct for self-preservation. "I'll get Natasha out, Nina, you know that. She's a smart girl, she makes good choices. She always has." He caressed her cheek gently. "Not like her damned father."

Nina was quiet. There were so many things swirling through her head, she had barely had a chance to think through what would happen between her and Chibs. All of their happiness, all of their suddenly strong relationship was hinged on lies. Where once she would have defended him in an instant, she was silent, and Nero tapped her knee.

"It's time to get out of the game, babygirl. Retire." He smiled grimly. "I know you've tried before but this time, you've got to get out and never look back."


"Are you okay?"

Natasha was sitting on the edge of Thomas' bed, staring out of the window. Her look told him everything, her mind was a million miles away, far from Charming and the club and her family. Realising she couldn't hear him, Thomas slipped around to her side and sat down beside her, taking her hand to get her attention.

"Tash?" She blinked, once, twice, and turned to look at him. He smiled in an attempt to engage her. "Are you okay?"

"I think I knew," she whispered quietly, her eyes beginning to tear. "I remember all the voices. The swearing, the gunshots. It's muggy, up here," she added, tapping her temple with her index finger slowly. "But I knew something wasn't right, when they said… about Roarke." She looked at him, at his gentle features exploring hers. "This is all so fucked up."

Thomas smiled a little, that was for sure. His Teller grin disarmed her for a moment and she looked back at the bed they had slept in together, the crumpled sheets soaked in her rebellion against the club. "I can take care of you, just like I did last night," he assured her gently. "I want to."

Natasha's lip twitched, uncertain. "What, because you couldn't take care of Emmy?" She shook her head, closing her eyes, regretting saying it in an instant. "I'm sorry, Tommy, I just…"

"No, I get it." It was exactly the thought that had run through his mind the night before as he'd laid there beside her, her body pressed against his. He had toyed with her hair, curling it gently on his fingers as she purred softly in her sleep, and wondered if swearing his allegiance to her safety would somehow make up for what he'd failed to do for Emily. "You know I cared about her. I won't let you get hurt, I swear."

Natasha looked down at her hands and shook her head. "Happy promised me that too, and all he's done is keep secrets," she whispered coldly. She ran her hand against her leg, wishing she could feel it, and Thomas watched intently. "Last night, we shouldn't have…" She stopped and sighed, this was crazy. "What we did, I think it was a mistake."

Thomas pressed his lips together. "I don't," he said softly. The way she was looking at him, like the young girl who'd once had a crush on him, it made his heart melt.

"I… things are going to get complicated." She squeezed his hand. "I know you took care of me and, fuck, you know I'm grateful. But what happens? When they find out?" Her eyes gazed at him from beneath her long lashes. "You - we - broke all sorts of rules last night. And they'll find out, you know they will."

Thomas was almost certain of it. He bumped her shoulder with his own and leaned his head against her. "Then we go," he suggested. "When the funeral's done, when we bury our family. We leave. Outlaws on the run, you know?" He wondered if she would say yes, maybe that was what they needed to do. Go, run, find their way together somehow.

"Alright, Thelma," she chuckled, pointing to her crutch against the wall. "Me and Louise over there'll be right out."

"I'm serious," Thomas murmured, more certainty in his voice now. "I know the circumstances aren't ideal, but we could. Get out of Charming, start again."

She was staring into space again, barely listening, and Thomas started to stand when she tugged him back into his place. "What happens?" she asked softly. "When they find out?"

He shook his head. They would kill him, without a doubt. Doing that, to another member? Thomas wasn't in the same position as his elders like Tig and Chibs, what they might get away with, he'd never have been overlooked on.

"They won't," he assured her. "I promise."