D.
For the first time in over 48 hours, Tara was alone.
Jax had been a revelation. His attentiveness astounded her - made her teenage self jealous and calmed and reassured her as an adult. Any fear Tara might have had about being pregnant and becoming a mom again at age 36 disappeared. And his consideration wasn't just about the baby. He was devoted to her. He was solicitous of her. He loved her - the woman and the doctor, not just the mother of his children.
She tried to get him to leave, to go home and sleep when she slept, but he refused. Instead, he slept by her bedside. Tara insisted that he at least get some non-hospital food and some fresh air - just because she was stuck in St. Thomas, eating its industrial food didn't mean Jax had to be, too, but he jokingly responded with 'This is California, Babe. How fresh can smog really be?' and said his cooking was worse than anything a cafeteria could serve. Even when she underwent surgery, Jax stayed. Normally, mid-shaft humerus fractures could be treated without surgery, but, given that Tara was a highly trained and highly specialized surgeon, she elected for a more invasive treatment, wanting to make sure that there wasn't any lingering vascular or nerve damage that would impact her ability to perform surgery.
Although Jax hadn't argued with her decision, Tara could tell that he wasn't pleased by it. His resentment had nothing to do with her career or independence, however… which was a good thing for their relationship. No, he was just concerned about her doing anything that might make her recovery longer, that might, in the short term, cause her even more pain. What Jax didn't understand - what he couldn't understand unless Tara shared with him her speculation that his son, that Abel, would still be alive if she had been there, in Charming, when he had been born, that, if Tara would have operated on him, Abel would have survived and would still be with Jax, with them, now five years later - was what hurt the most was the unknown, was the question of whether or not she'd ever be able to operate again, whether she'd ever be as good of a surgeon again. But Tara would keep those fears… just like she would keep her contemplations about Abel… to herself, because such pointless conjecture was too cruel to inflict upon someone she loved. Besides, as far as her own surgery was concerned, Jax had nothing to worry about.
With not just one but two specialist brought in from the UCSF system, she had been in very good hands, yet Jax remained in the waiting room for the entire duration of her mostly exploratory operation - still wearing the clothes stained with her blood. Eventually, someone took pity on him and gave him a pair of scrubs to change into, but Jax wouldn't even do that until Tara was back safe and sound in her own hospital room. He had a dead body to burn and bury and evidence to erase, but it was only the reminder that, if anyone found Kohn, the knife used to kill him, or any sign of the original crime scene or the subsequent cover-up that they had orchestrated, it wouldn't be Jax who faced the most severe repercussions but their daughter that finally made him get up and leave her side. Even that Jax wouldn't do until Tara was scheduled to meet with her physical therapist the day after her surgery.
When he came back to her freshly showered and freshly burdened by yet another secret he would have to shoulder and keep - not from her but from the rest of the world, Tara didn't ask Jax how everything went. Instead, she had her OB-GYN and their first official prenatal appointment waiting for him upon his return. While it was too early to really see or hear anything, Tara knew that Jax needed more than just her reassurance that their unborn child was safe and sound inside of her. Again, his doubt did not stem from a lack of faith in her abilities or knowledge; it was just that their personal connection made Jax wonder if it was the doctor encouraging him or the woman trying to protect him.
Everything had been right on track, and Tara had received both recommendations that she herself had given other women in the past and had heard once before when pregnant with Natalie and an appointment for their next visit. Jax had made it clear that he intended upon attending every single check-up. While Tara had teasingly warned him about hovering, secretly, she had been thrilled - not only for herself but for Jax as well, because, after missing out on sixteen years of Natty's life and then losing Abel, Jax deserved to experience every joy, every thrill, even every worry that came along with becoming a parent - both the big and the small… just as Natalie also deserved to have all those experiences as a big sister as well. A complete lack of interest in science or not, Tara had a feeling Nats would be attending every prenatal appointment right alongside her father - the two of them, no doubt, teaming up together to take care of and consequently drive Tara insane. She just hoped that, when Jax returned with their daughter after picking her up in Sacramento, Natalie didn't insist upon a repeat of the OB-GYN's visit from the day before, that both Jax's and Tara's assurances of the baby's health would be sufficient.
A knock on the door made Tara attempt to sit up. It was habit, but it was one that she would need to break quickly if she wanted her armsto heal properly. Wincing, she resettled in her hospital bed, waiting for the person out in the hallway to come in. She didn't have to wait long, because the knock was more of a formality and less of an actual request for permission to enter. Tara knew it wasn't Jax or Natalie, because Natalie didn't knock - something she'd only need to catch her parents having sex once to be cured of - and Jax would try to come in as silently as he could just in case Tara was sleeping, and she wasn't expecting any further follow-ups until evening rounds.
"Doctor Knowles," a familiar redhead popped just her face through the partially open door. "Do you have a few minutes to talk?"
"I do," Tara answered. She smiled, too, though the gesture was more for Margaret Murphy's encouragement that she was awake and capable and less to do with her own reaction to seeing the hospital administrator. It was nothing personal. Tara respected the other woman and generally found their professional conversations to be engaging. But she owed Margaret several explanations and apologies, none of which were going to be easy.
Once Margaret was completely in the room and the door shut behind her, Tara elected to start off their discussion with something light - more small talk than anything else. "However, it's no longer Dr. Knowles." At the administrator's wide-eyed look - whether it was a good or bad surprise, Tara couldn't tell, she explained, "I got married. Once the paperwork is complete, I'm going to hyphenate my name. So, it'll be Dr. Knowles-Teller." Still, the other woman stood before her without speaking, without reacting. Wanting to fill the silence, Tara found herself saying, "I bet you're glad that we haven't made too many changes around here yet, because, otherwise, it would all need to be redone. Unless…." Realization dawning as to what this talk was about, any and all levity disappeared from her tone. "Unless I no longer have a job here."
"What? No!" In her attempt to deny, to convince Tara of the contrary, Margaret Murphy rushed towards her bedside. "You're not fired. We - I - wouldn't do that."
Needing more, needing a further guarantee, she asked, "and you don't expect me to quit?"
"No, of course not. Why would we?"
It was the note of genuine bewilderment in the administrator's voice, the sheer look of perplexity on her small, petite features, that finally convinced Tara of the other woman's sincerity. "I just… I wasn't completely honest with you about myself or my intentions when I applied, interviewed, and then accepted a position here at St. Thomas, and, now, given the extent of my injuries and the fact that I'm pregnant, I won't be able to fulfill my duties as we originally agreed they would be."
Finding the chair that Jax had been using since Tara was assigned to her hospital room, Margaret pulled it closer to her beside and took a seat. "If you will recall, I admitted during your interview that I was aware that there was more motivating your move to Charming than just the professional. While I didn't realize, at the time, that your connections here ran so… deep, they do not diminish your qualifications or your skills. As for your injuries and impending maternity leave, I actually think - and this might surprise you - that both will make you better at your job - perhaps not a better doctor, and probably not a better surgeon, but for sure a better department head."
Recognizing what was being unsaid, Tara added, "it will force me to delegate."
"There is more than one way to lead, Dr. Knowles - even leading by example. You can hire the best nurses and the best surgeons, but they won't learn anything or make our program better if you insist upon picking up the scalpel for every surgery, if you see to every pre and post-op task yourself." Gentling her censuring advice with a small, closed lip smile, Margaret continued, "you can motivate through your own work ethic, your own dedication to your patients, and your faith in your employees. If my vision for this hospital is to come to fruition, then I need more than just your brain and your hands, Tara; I need your heart and your guidance, too."
"You have it," she promised, sincerely meaning every word. "I only took this job, because I had to. I had to be in Charming, and I had to make my being back here look believable, and the only way I could do that was by working at St. Thomas. But then I met with you, and I heard what your goals were, and, suddenly, I didn't just need the job; I wanted it. But I only thought it could be mine for the short-term. I swear to you, Margaret, that I did everything I could these past few weeks to make the most of my time here, but, now that it can be permanent, I want your vision to become my vision. It's exactly what this town needs, and maybe you're right; maybe it's what I need professionally, too."
While the smile was still on the redhead's face, it had morphed into something sad, something worried and concerned, something nervous. Behind her glasses, Margaret's eyes were glassy with unshed tears. "But can it be permanent?" Tara allowed her confusion to show, prompting Margaret to explain, "the fact that you're pregnant and now married to Mr. Teller is only going to make this conversation that much more awkward, but I also think it makes it that much more important, too, Tara."
The hospital administrator didn't need to say any more. "Jax didn't do this - any of this - to me." Grinning in the hopes of easing some of the tension that had suddenly sprung up between them, Tara allowed, "well, he did knock me up." But it didn't work, and she found her own resentment creeping back into her voice. She knew this would be something she and Jax would face after their many performances around town and allowing - no, encouraging - people to believe the worst about their relationship, but Tara still disliked anyone thinking Jax was capable of hurting her, and she begrudged those who didn't see him the way she did, who didn't know him the way she did… even if, at the same time, she relished being one of the only people who truly understood Jax Teller. "I take it you haven't heard the latest rumors about me?"
"I try not to listen to idyll gossip."
"Yet you believe it about Jax," Tara snapped. She couldn't help herself.
Luckily, Margaret did not rise to the bait. "Some of your arguments with Mr. Teller happened right here at the hospital, Tara. It's not mere gossip when one can hear the screams and see the altercations for oneself."
She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. When Tara next spoke, she made sure that she was calm once again, and she tried to keep her explanation as simple and as conversational as she could so that it came across as genuine and not practiced. "Most of that was staged." At Margaret's dubious look, she shifted gears. "I came home to Charming, because I had a stalker in Chicago. It got… violent. I wasn't safe. More importantly, my sixteen year old daughter wasn't safe. I took out a restraining order, but it didn't seem to do much good. So, I came back here to the one place, to the one man, who I knew would protect me, us, no matter what. And he did. Even though I kept his daughter from him for all those years, and even though I wasn't always upfront with him about my reasons for moving home, Jax did everything he could to make sure nothing happened to me.
"I just… I couldn't be with him all of the time, and I didn't always listen to him either. Because, as much as my stalker was obsessed with me, he hated Jax more. I came back here, because I needed Jax in order to feel safe, but I also needed to protect him as well. So, sometimes I lied to him, and sometimes we really did fight, and sometimes we even staged fights for my stalker's benefit, but Jax never laid a hand on me out of anger or with the intent to hurt me." Seeing that Margaret Murphy needed more, that she still believed Tara to be protecting her abuser, she changed her defense from emotional to logical. "You've seen my charts, I'm sure, so you know the extent of my injuries. Even if I was capable of justifying and rationalizing an abuser's actions away, of loving a man capable of bruising my skin and breaking my bones, Chief Hale wouldn't have dropped the charges against Jax if there hadn't been sufficient evidence that someone else attacked me. He wouldn't be investigating my shooting and looking for my stalker if Jax was the culprit."
Margaret had one more argument, though Tara could tell by her tone that she was close to accepting the truth… or, at least, as much of the truth that she could know. "Chief Hale and Mr. Teller were both born and raised in Charming. I've heard the stories about the local police and the MC. Chief Hale could be…."
"David and Jax were never friends," she interrupted the administrator. "Yes, Unser turned a blind eye to the club's crimes, but David Hale was never a friend to the Sons, and Jax has completely changed Samcro. You, more than anyone else," Tara told her pointedly, glancing at the iPad in the redhead's hands, the up-to-date and state of the art technology and equipment littering the hospital room, "should know that."
"I guess I should," Margaret acknowledged, standing up. After putting her chair back, she came to stand at Tara's bedside. "Whoever this man is who has been terrorizing you, I hope they catch him."
"Chief Hale told me that he has reason to believe that my stalker has left town, and, after the shooting, he doesn't think he'll come back here. In fact, Jax went to pick up our daughter. We finally think it's safe for her to join us here. She's been... under the protection of friends in Chicago."
"Well, I'm glad you're staying with us, Doctor Knowles." Remembering everything that Tara had told her, Margaret added, "... Teller." She reached out to grab onto and squeeze Tara's right hand. "Congratulations on your marriage and the baby."
In their heartfelt moment, neither women noticed Tara's hospital room door opening again… not until a loud, hostile, cold voice said, "have any of those best wishes you want to bestow upon the grandma, Red?"
For a split second, Tara panicked. She gripped Margaret Murphy's hand a little too tightly, making the administrator wince, and she fleetingly considered asking her to stay by her side so she wouldn't have to face Gemma alone, but Tara quickly dismissed this idea, because the last person she wanted to subject her boss to was her wrathful mother-in-law, and there certainly were things that the two long-time rivals would say to each other that Margaret had no business hearing. Plus, even if Tara was afraid of Gemma, she wouldn't let the older woman know that, and, besides, Jax was due back with Natalie in a matter of minutes.
So, plastering a fake smile onto her face, she requested, "would you please give us a moment, Margaret? We can talk some more later. I'm not being released for at least another day or two."
"Right. Yes. Of course," the administrator agreed, releasing Tara's hand. Backing out of the room, she instructed, "page someone if you need anything," though they both knew the comment was more in regards to her security versus her actual healthcare. Tara observed the advice with a simple nod of her head.
As Margaret left, Gemma watched her, and, as Gemma watched Margaret until the door shut completely behind her, Tara observed Gemma. She was dressed for war - old lady war. Her makeup was thick and dark, and she didn't have a hair out of place. Her shirt was as low cut as it could be and still be considered a shirt, her pants as tight as a second skin, her heels sharp enough to kill. She didn't bring flowers, though her nails were painted as red as a rose, and her perfume was a cloying cloud around them. Hands braced on cocked hips, brows raised in arrogant confrontation, Gemma pivoted towards Tara and demanded, "enough with your bullshit avoidance and lies. I want the truth. And don't forget that I know who you are, bitch."
Tara sighed. She wanted to pinch the bridge of her nose, hoping to forestall the headache she felt coming on, but doing so would only result in a pain worse than a migraine. So, instead, she had to settle for clenching her bedsheets with her right hand - a very poor substitute for allaying her frustration. "I know who you are, too, Gemma. You make it rather impossible to forget. As for this truth you seek, the truth about what exactly?"
"I've heard the story around town about a stalker doing this to you." Gemma nodded towards Tara's battered body.
"It's not a story. It's the truth." When the older woman snorted in disbelief and ridicule, Tara laughed in challenge. "What, you think I did all of this to myself? Because it sure as hell wasn't Jax… no matter what you believed your own son capable of that day you saw me outside of the hospital."
"Well, it wasn't a stalker either, because who the hell would want to stalk you?"
The only thing Gemma Teller hated more than Tara was the law. So, if Tara told her the truth about her stalker - that he was a Fed, that he used her and hurt Natalie to try and get to Jax, that he was dead now, Gemma might back down, and she might even find it somewhere within her cold, dead, manipulative heart to actually feel a little sympathy for her new daughter-in-law, but they had all agreed to keep Kohn's identity, including that he was an ATF agent, a secret. While Hale was going through the motions of investigating her shooting and looking for her stalker, he wasn't actually going to find anything in an attempt to keep the ATF from sniffing around Tara, Jax, Natty, and Charming. The very last person they needed getting their hands on that type of information and no doubt using it somehow for their own benefit was Gemma.
So, instead of engaging, instead of mouthing off and fighting back with the older woman like she had done so many times in the past, Tara simply told her, "I'm tired, Gemma. If you want to know more about my case, talk to Hale."
But Gemma wouldn't take the neon-flashing hint, and she leaned over and against the end of Tara's bed, metaphorically digging her heels in as she challenged, "and is Hale who I should also talk to in order to get some answers about this so-called pregnancy of yours?"
"How did you even find out about the baby? I'm only a few weeks along. Jax and I aren't telling anyone about it yet." Well, other than Natalie telling Opie, and the hospital staff knowing in order to properly treat her. And they were only keeping it quiet at Tara's insistence as she hoped to avoid just such a confrontation with Gemma until at least when she was through her first trimester. Or perhaps when the child was graduating from college.
Gemma stood up straight and used her blood red nails in order to tick off her points. "First of all, I'm not just anyone; I'm his goddamn mother! Secondly, aren't you and your shriveled up pussy a little too old to be playing this trick?"
"I'm 36, Gemma; I'm not going through menopause."
But the older woman could hear nothing but her own bitter jealousies and animosity. "My son might be falling for your act once again, but I've always seen you for who you really are."
Rolling her eyes - at herself for giving Gemma the argument she wanted and at Gemma for being so predictable, Tara queried, "and what is that exactly?"
"A deceitful, conniving cunt who will do anything to trap my son. You did it seventeen years ago when you got pregnant the first time, and, now, you're doing it once more. Only… I'm not going to let you get away with it again," Gemma threatened, promised. She ran her contemptuous gaze up and down Tara's prone form, curling her lip in disgust. "Hell, even if you are knocked up, it's probably that poor fool's you're claiming as your stalker."
"Jesus, Gemma, pick an insult and stick with it already!" With every contrasting point, Tara tipped her head first to the left and then to the right - back and forth, back and forth. "Am I too old and barren to get anyone to fuck me, or am I the town slut? Did I make up a stalker, or is he my baby daddy?"
Stabbing her right index finger and nail in Tara's direction, Gemma heatedly snarked, "I should have pushed you and that bastard bitch of a daughter of yours down the stairs the day I found out you were pregnant!"
"Wow," a third voice greeted with a huffing chuckle. Pushing into the room, Natalie continued, "tell me how you really feel, Grandma."
If meeting her granddaughter for the first time meant anything to her, if seeing just how much Natty resembled Jax touched Gemma at all, she didn't show it. "Where the hell have you been? Your gash of a mother has been back in town for weeks, and this is the first I've seen of you!"
Natalie shrugged and walked around Gemma to stand by her mom's side. Without even having to say anything, she declared her loyalties. It was two against one, and Gemma was on her own. "I've been in prison."
"For christ's sake, Natalie," Tara reprimanded.
But it was a wasted effort, because Gemma talked over her and obviously didn't believe Natty anyway. "Listen here, you little smartass, I am not someone you want to mess with!"
"Why not," Nats fired back, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance. "It's not like I have any grandfathers left for you to off." Well, apparently Opie and Natalie found something to discuss during their hours together on the road. Tara could only feel gratitude that her daughter knew exactly who Gemma was… and fear for what Opie might have told Natty about her and Jax.
While Gemma didn't respond to the accusation, she didn't back down either. "Well, aren't you just a chip off your whore of a mother's corner."
"The only whore in this room is you, Gemma," Natty said with exhaustion, with boredom, dripping from her tone. "You wanted power. You wanted to control an outlaw biker club. But, instead of trying to fight the system and join yourself or, better yet, start your own, you spread your legs for not one, not two, but as least three different members, and where exactly did that get you, hm? Married to some middle aged, deadbeat dad who wouldn't have two nickels to rub together if it weren't for his stepson bankrolling his business."
"Why, you goddamn, mouthy snatch," Gemma cursed low and dangerous as she rounded Tara's bed to charge towards Natalie.
As she approached, she raised her hand to slap Nats across the face, but, shocking her grandmother, Natalie grabbed Gemma's wrist in mid-air. "And, if you were really about to slap me, you're also a basic bitch."
"Why," Gemma mocked, sneered. "Because you're a child?"
"No, because if you want to fight me, then fight me. In a ring. Gloves or bare knuckles, that's up to you."
Although her words were counter to her movements, for Gemma took a step away from Natty, she told her, "you don't want a piece of me, Sweetheart."
"You're right," Natalie agreed, making Gemma smirk. That smug grin quickly withered, though, when Nats clarified, "I don't want anything from you, I don't want to be anywhere near you, and I don't want anyone I care about near you either. But, if you insist upon insulting my mom, badgering her after she's less than two days post-op, and threatening my family, then I'll deal with you in the only way you seem to understand: violently."
"You wouldn't know violence if it sucker punched you in the gut."
Seeing the spark of challenge light in her daughter's gaze, Tara warned her, "Jacqueline Natalie, I swear to god if you even…."
But Natty talked right over her mother, and Gemma didn't pay her daughter-in-law any mind either. "Are you hard of hearing, Grandma, because I already told you once that I'm fresh out of prison. What, do you think I stayed alive in there by braiding friendship bracelets for all the other women on my cellblock?"
Scoffing, Gemma dismissed, "you're as hardened of a criminal as your mother is a virginal saint!"
"Take a walk, Gemma," Jax ordered, stepping into the room to find his mother and daughter standing toe to toe and going head to head. Surprised by her son's sudden appearance and even more stunned by his command, Gemma looked behind her over her shoulder. "You need to leave."
Tara watched as Gemma went to protest, as she threw Natty a nasty glance and was no doubt about to launch into yet another attack upon her granddaughter, but, before she uttered a word - honest or otherwise, somebody else entered Tara's hospital room, and he spoke first. "Actually, you need to come with me," Hale stated. It wasn't a request either; it was an order. "We need to have a little chat about Wendy."
Twisting around to face the cop, Gemma argued, "I'm a little busy here, Chief, dealing with my son's latest marital mistake. I don't have time to even think about that Junky Whore… let alone talk about her with you."
David reached for his cuffs, removed them from his belt. "We can either do this the easy way, and you come down to the station with me voluntarily, or you can be difficult, and I'll arrest you right here and now, leading you out of the hospital in cuffs. Your choice, Gemma."
The older woman glanced at her son. "Are you going to let him threaten me like that, Jackson?"
Jax shrugged, folding his arms across his chest in confidence. "That didn't sound like a threat to me."
"Jesus christ," Gemma swore, glaring at the entire room. "You're already pussy blind from this bitch!" Before either Jax or Natalie could defend Tara or Tara herself could answer the insult, her mother-in-law demanded from Hale, "on what charges do you actually think you're going to arrest me?"
"Well, to start with," David answered. "How about attempted murder? You see, I just got back from a visit to FCI Dublin, and I learned several interesting things from… what did you call her? That Junky Whore?"
Although she was walking towards him, Gemma continued to argue, continued to protest, though, to Tara's ears, it came across as a cover, because, despite what she said, it was obvious that Gemma knew exactly what Hale was referring to, and she didn't want him to say any more in front of Jax. "If you're basing your case against me on something my baby killing ex-daughter-in-law said, then don't waste your time with the cuffs… unless you can think of something a little more fun to use them for than arresting me."
After Gemma moved out into the hall, David looked from Jax to Tara and then back again. "I'll explain more later, but at least, for now, you have one less thing to worry about. Take care of them."
As Hale closed the door behind him, Jax nodded in recognition and acceptance. Natalie, on the other hand, was the one to verbally respond. "Somebody has to," she sighed with faux weariness, referring to her parents. While Hale might have chuckled, Jax and Tara glared at their daughter - not because of her joke at their expense but because she just couldn't seem to stop herself from pulling the tiger's tail. Last time, it was Kohn. This time, it was Gemma. And they were about to have their first, official family discussion to guarantee that there wouldn't be a third.
Tara met the impossibly blue eyes of her new husband and warned him, "welcome to the joys of parenthood," smiling when, despite her cautioning, he couldn't help but grin in delight and excitement.
The love Tara felt for him in that moment was violent in its intensity, in its sheer overwhelmingness, in its obvious reciprocation.
E.
"Babe, if the hospital still has you on four wheels, are you sure you should even be going home?"
Up until that point, Jax had been quiet, stewing, while she and Margaret had been making small talk, discussing her revised work schedule to accommodate her injuries, the pregnancy, and Natalie's move to Charming from Chicago. Now, after Jax spoke, stopping their progression towards St. Thomas' main exit and interrupting the conversation, Tara knew what had been on his mind, what was bothering him.
She had assumed it was Gemma. True to his word, Hale had arrested the older woman, bringing her up on attempted murder and even some lesser, drug related charges as well. She was in county, awaiting arraignment, but, so far, Jax had done nothing to help her. While he wasn't preventing her current husband from assisting her, Tig already seemed to be losing interest in freeing his wife, and Jax never even mentioned his mother.
Usually, perhaps if it was anyone else but Jax, she would have felt stifled by the overprotective solicitude. But now - with Gemma not even a passing thought and Tara and their family his singular focus? For the first… and it certainly felt like it would be lasting… time, she was Jax's first priority - not his mother, not the club. She was honest enough with herself to admit that she relished his undivided attention, his entire heart. Yes, he loved their children as well, but Tara didn't mind sharing Jax with Natalie and their unborn child. That was how it was supposed to be. It was everything she had wanted for the past seventeen years.
"I'm fine," she reassured him. But, when Jax opened his mouth to protest further, Tara expanded, "in fact, I'm more than fine. I've already stayed longer than anyone else presenting with my case would have stayed, and that was at your insistence."
He ignored her, though, turning towards Margaret. "If this is an insurance or a billing concern…."
Tara watched as Margaret flushed, swallowed roughly, and glanced away. The hospital administrator looked thoroughly uncomfortable. Eventually, she responded, "you, uh," Margaret coughed, discreetly met Tara's green eyes dancing with suppressed laughter, and then continued. "You don't need to worry about that."
Tara knew that Jax was referring to the many donations he had made to St. Thomas since Abel's birth and subsequent death, and Margaret knew that he was referring to those donations, and Jax knew that Margaret knew what he was talking about, but Jax didn't know that Tara was aware that he was one of St. Thomas' biggest benefactors, and she found the entire moment far more amusing than she should have.
Jax must have noticed Margaret's look, because he also peered down at Tara. She could see him recognize her humor, a small smirk playing on his full lips in reaction and appreciation. "If Tara doesn't already know, she will soon, because it's not just my money anymore. You know we got married, that she's pregnant, so you probably realize that things might change. If that influenced your decision to release her…."
"Jax," Tara spoke loudly, cutting him off and capturing his full attention. "The wheelchair is just hospital policy. As for your donations, nothing about them - the frequency or the quantity - need to change."
"It's not just me anymore, Babe; I have a family now," Jax insisted. "There's the new baby to consider, and Natty will be going to college in a couple of years."
"And I make really good money." Enough money, in fact, that she had managed to pay off her exorbitant student loans - loans taken out to not just pay for what scholarships and grants couldn't cover but also for her and Natalie to live on while Tara was in college, medical school, and then even as an intern - long before she had ever thought possible. "I won't tell you that you can't help pay for our children, but I didn't marry you so you could financially support us. I can do that well enough on my own, and you, if you want to, can continue to donate to St. Thomas… or any other charity of your choice."
Jax nodded in acknowledgement of what she said, though he was, by no means, just accepting it. They would discuss it further when it was just the two of them, and Tara wouldn't have had it any other way. Breaking through the small moment, Margaret Murphy cleared her throat and then said, "the policy is for our protection more so than the patients'. If anyone would slip or fall after being discharged, injuring themselves, then the hospital would be liable. While perhaps inconvenient for the patients and misleading for the patients' families, it's a simple precaution on the hospital's part and a painless concession on everyone else's."
To further convince Jax, the administrator added, "I wouldn't let Dr. Knowles leave if I didn't think she was absolutely ready to go home… or if I didn't believe she was going home to people who would properly and attentively take care of her." It was quite the reversal of opinion for someone who, just days prior, had believed Jax had abused her. Tara was grateful for the change… and for Margaret voicing it for Jax's benefit.
They had reached the doors, and Margaret stopped, crossing and clasping her hands in front of her. "Well, I will let you go the rest of your way on your own." Tara and Jax were turned towards her, their backs to the exit, so they couldn't see what or who the administrator was looking at over their shoulders. "It looks like someone else wants to offer their well wishes to you as well, Dr. Knowles… Teller." With a nod towards Jax and a soft, "Mr. Teller," in respect and parting, Margaret Murphy pivoted around on her sensible heels and walked away.
Before Jax could move around to her right side to help her up… or, worse yet, insist upon carrying her outside, Tara stood, though she did wait for Jax to push her wheelchair out of the way and then come to her side. They stepped outside together in tandem, the automatic doors greeting them with an unnatural breeze before Tara finally felt a soft gust of actual wind, the scent of dust and exhaust welcoming her back to the outside world… not to mention the sound of bickering.
"An open Jeep is very… New Mexico, circa 1999-ish of you."
"Says the girl wearing a Soundgarden t-shirt."
"Hey," Natalie barked, snapping her fingers and then pointing her right index towards Hale accusingly. "Chris Cornell is a god amongst mere mortals."
"And that Death from Above 1979 one you were wearing… the night we met?" David snickered, and, if Tara didn't know any better, she would have thought the adult and teenager were siblings. Perhaps this was a glimpse into her future. It also told Tara that, despite what her daughter said, there was a genuine sense of affection between Natalie and the cop. "More like Death from Below 2015."
"DFA released an album last year, Grandpa. Besides," Natty further defended her taste in music, "you have to respect a two piece capable of making that much sound."
"You mean noise."
Tara and Jax were close enough to their daughter that she heard her mutter, "jesus christ, you're going to die a virgin," before saying much louder to guarantee that David would clearly catch every word, "I'm sixteen. When I like something from twenty years ago, that makes it vintage and me a hipster. But, when you haven't grown past your own adolescence, that just means you have arrested development."
"Congratulations," Hale addressed them versus his verbal sparring partner. Prior to Jax and Tara's arrival, he had been leaning against said New Mexico, circa 1999 open jeep with his arms crossed, the motor still running, but, then, he straightened up, placing his hands on his hips and glaring without any real heat. "She's the absolute worst parts of both of you. You must be so proud."
It was Jax who responded. "You have no idea."
"And he never will," Nats added, smirking. "Because no one is going to want to reproduce with Charming's Chief Man-Child."
Hale was opening his mouth to lob his returning insult, but Tara cut him off, distracting him. "So, why are you here? If you dare tell me that Jax asked to have a police escort home for me, we're going to have problems."
"Why the hell would I escort you home?"
"Let's just say that my dad isn't only making up for lost time between the sheets," Natty told the cop. Jax grinned smugly, Tara shook her head in abashment, and Hale's tan face turned ruddy. "He's also been slightly overprotective, too."
"You know, you have an unhealthy appreciation for yours parents' sex life," David accused Natty.
"It's not appreciation; it's acceptance. And it is healthy, because I'm not a fucking prude."
Hale could only censure, "prison did not help your mouth, Miss Teller."
"Jackwagon, I always talked like this."
Pointedly ignoring Natalie and shifting so he was only facing Jax, Hale asked, "if you're so worried about Tara, why'd you bring your bike?"
"I don't need to drive a cage to keep my wife safe."
"I was thinking more of her comfort," David remarked.
"I like riding," Tara defended. As soon as the words left her mouth, she saw a spark of mischief light within her daughter's impish blue eyes, and she warned her, "not a word, Natty." In response, Natalie just chuckled before turning her back on the adults and getting ready to ride herself. She climbed onto her bike and started putting on her riding accessories.
"I'm actually here," David finally revealed, "because I wanted to talk to you about that CPD officer set up by Kohn."
"Jesus christ, this couldn't wait," Jax complained. His left arm slung low around Tara's waist tightened, pulling her that much closer to his side and claiming her that much more, while he simultaneously glowered at the police chief.
"Frankly, no, it couldn't," David said. "Do you have any idea what happens to cops on the inside?" Jax must have had some clue, because he conceded, allowing Hale to talk to her without interruption. "When you first told me about Kohn targeting the officer who granted you your restraining order, you asked for two days before I did anything. Well, it's been a hell of a lot longer than two days. I can't wait any longer, Tara."
Quite frankly, she had completely forgotten about the cop in Chicago facing obstruction… and who knows how many other charges thanks to Kohn's machinations. While she appreciated the fact that he had tried to help her, the man otherwise didn't register with her. Before, Tara had her daughter to worry about, and, then, once she was safe, she had a new life to shelter and a new family to nurture. Selfish or not, the only people who mattered to Tara were her own, and some random cop… no matter how good of a man he might have been… certainly wasn't on that very small list of people.
"I won't go back to Chicago to testify," Tara told Hale. Her tone welcomed absolutely no argument or contradiction. "Write up a statement that incriminates Kohn but keeps Natalie safe, and I'll sign it. But that's it. I won't risk my own family to save someone else's."
Although David didn't look pleased, he also didn't look surprised, and he accepted his disappointment easily… probably because he hadn't even been expecting that much. Tara wasn't sure what that said of her or of Hale's opinion of her, but she also didn't care. After a moment, the police chief nodded in concession before rounding his vehicle and climbing inside. Before putting it into gear, David yelled over the engine, "I'll stop by tonight after my shift."
Where exactly he would be stopping, Tara wasn't sure, but, apparently, no one else had any questions as to where she would be staying now that she was out of the hospital… which pretty much told her all she needed to know. Yet, she still planned on asking. But first, "what's really with the bikes?" Natalie was still astride her own motorcycle, waiting for her parents. Jax first helped Tara clamber onto his Harley - and she was pleased to see that he was back to using his bike and not one from his dealership - before he mounted as well. "Is this the family who rides together, stays together… or something?"
Natalie snorted a laugh over her Harley's rumbling engine. "More like the family who rides together, dies together."
"Jacqueline Natalie," Tara cried. She wasn't at all impressed with her daughter's comment. If Nats wasn't on her left side and if she wouldn't risk toppling all three of them off of the bikes, Tara might have reached across the space separating them and slapped a hand over her daughter's mouth to prevent her from saying anything else. "Do not even put that thought out there."
"Oh, come on, Mom! You know you're dad's ride or die chick. Besides," Natty continued to fight her, "since when are you superstitious?"
"I'm not being superstitious; I'm being realistic. This is Charming. We don't need to tempt fate any more than we already are simply by being here." Briefly, she considered asking Nats how she planned on them all riding once Tara gave birth and there was a baby in the family, but she imagined the horrifying word 'sidecar' crossing her oldest child's lips and quickly changed her mind.
Natalie rolled her beautiful, impossibly blue eyes. "Whatever," she remarked flippantly. As she kicked up her bike's stand and rode off, she yelled, "I'll see you at home."
With his own bike still turned off and the kickstand down to keep them secure, Jax twisted around to strap Tara's helmet on for her. As he did so, she queried, "so, just where exactly is home these days?"
"It's with me, Babe," he told her. His absolute sincerity shone through his wide, satisfied, swaggering grin. "It's always been with me… since we were sixteen years old."
Without waiting for a response from her, Jax curved back around, put on his own helmet, and started his bike. As Tara wrapped her lone, good arm around his waist, she also leaned forward to rest her forehead against the back of his shoulders, dropping a kiss through his shirt between his scapulae. Even over the roar of the motorcycle, and the hum of the town, and the steady tattoo of her own rapidly beating heart, Tara felt and heardJax shudder in reaction to her touch, to her delicate embrace.
As they rode away together, there was just one thought swirling through her usually chaotic and busy mind: Jax was right. He, now along with their children, was her home - always had been, always would be. And Tara wouldn't have it any other way.
A/N: So, that's it. Another story has wrapped. Some of you have already asked about my next fic. While I have it planned, outlined, and even the prologue written, I've paused in my writing for Jax and Tara to focus on some other fandoms/pairings... for now. I have series and stories to finish up, and I do not like to write for more than one pairing at a time. I cannot provide you with an estimate of when my next Jax/Tara story will be posted, but it will happen. Eventually. Thanks for reading this fic, for you patience with my unpredictable posting, and for all of your wonderful remarks. Until next time...
~Charlynn~