A/N: don't own don't sue
Lyrics at the beginning are from 'Battleships' by Daughtry
Set after Season One, before Abel is kidnapped and Gemma is raped and Jax turns into a jerk and the whole club hates each other. Generally back when the show had fun and all the coolest characters were still alive. Because I can, it's called artistic license.
FYI from here on out it's going to be smut city my friends :D
Learn My Lesson
Chapter Thirteen
I'm sinking inside
And the masts and lines are broken down tonight
I swallow my pride
But we're drowning in the ocean and it's tearing my heart open
Baby, we're high then we're low
First it's yes then it's no and we're changing like the tides
Yeah, but I want you, I need you, and I guarantee you we'll make it out alive
'Cause I don't wanna fight no more
Even when the waves get rough
I don't wanna see the day we say we've had enough
And I don't wanna fight this war
Bullets coming off our lips
But we stick to our guns and we love like battleships
Like battleships
Bombs fly through the air
And I know that we're both playing not so fair
Oh, show, show me you care
I got my white flag up and it's waving
'Cause you know this love's worth saving, baby
We're high then we're low
First it's yes then it's no, and we're changing like the tides
Yeah, but I want you, I need you, and I guarantee you we'll make it out alive
'Cause I don't wanna fight no more
Even when the waves get rough
I don't wanna see the day we say we've had enough
And I don't wanna fight this war
Bullets coming off our lips
But we stick to our guns and we love like battleships
Like battleships
I'm sinking inside
Can we finally put our weapons down tonight?
'Cause I don't wanna fight no more
Even when the waves get rough
I don't wanna see the day we say we've had enough
Naomi peered dolefully down at the blood speckling her shorts. She'd managed to make her stitches bleed struggling against the cord they'd used to tie her wrists. The pain had dulled to a distant ache and the bleeding had finally stopped but her head still pounded something awful. The thug had punched her full in the face, knocking her out cold, but after that they hadn't touched her except to manhandle her dead weight into the back of the van. She had no idea why they hadn't just killed her in the motel room. Wherever they were taking her, they had their foot on the gas and she was bruised and nauseous from rolling around. She could see absolutely nothing in the dim light filtering through the painted over windows, and she couldn't hear a thing over the roar of the engine. She knew she should probably feel scared that she had been kidnapped by people who had already tried to kill her once, but she mainly felt angry that her time had been cut short and she'd never see her brother again. Or her boys. Or Chibs. Oh Chibs. She was so glad he hadn't been there when they'd come for her, at least he hadn't been hurt trying to protect her. She wished she hadn't been such a bitch to him that morning.
The van screeched to a jerky halt and she rolled into the side of the van with a hefty thud. She groaned as pain shot through her arm and shoulder. The door opened a crack and she struggled to clamber onto her knees, her hands thrust out in front of her although there was nothing she could do while they were bound. The man who'd grabbed her from their motel room slipped in through the gap between the doors.
"What do you want?" She demanded shakily.
He ignored her. He grabbed her arm and she whimpered, struggling to get out of his vice-like grip. When he pulled a black bandana out of his pocket, her frantic wriggling increased. Convinced he was going to strangle her with it, she pulled every dirty move the boys had ever taught her. She bit, scratched and clawed at every inch of exposed skin, gouging deep marks into his face with her nails.
"You fucking bitch!" He howled as she managed to dig her thumb into his eye with a lucky swipe.
He struck her across the face with the back of his hand. With her nose exploding in pain and her eye feeling as if it might pop out, she collapsed back against the floor of the van. While she was still stunned, he rolled her onto her front, pinning her with his knee, and tied the bandana around her face as a blindfold. Naomi felt herself being dragged across the van floor, yanked out through the doors and forced to stand upright.
"Move."
She staggered forwards, tripping and stumbling as he dragged her along by the arm. After an interminably long time being led blindly through rooms and doors and a harrowing experience descending a steep set of stairs with nothing to hold onto and no sight to rely on, Naomi was tossed unceremoniously onto the ground again.
"That her?" She curled into as small a target as possible, straining to hear them over the pounding of her heart. "Doesn't look like much." The man laughed harshly and Naomi assumed he was referring to the marks she'd left all over her attacker. "Keep her in one piece until we get the brother out of her."
Naomi's stomach turned to ice and her heart stopped beating. Dexter.
Chibs stared at the warehouse, his stomach surprisingly steady as he pondered the fact that Naomi could already be dead. It had taken him a while, but he had had Juice call in a few favours with the local police and he had managed to track down the van on several security cameras. Now he had no idea what to do. He had no idea how many of them were inside and he only had until morning to get back into that motel room or risk losing the Irish. As he watched, a burly bruiser emerged from the depths of the warehouse and trudged towards the van. Chibs felt anger curl in his belly as he recognised the walk. He was Naomi's kidnapper.
He didn't give himself time to think it through, he kicked open the door of the car he'd stolen and barrelled across the road. By the time the guy realised someone was creeping up on him, Chibs had cold-cocked him with the gun and left him sprawled in the dirt. Chibs placed his boot on his hip and kicked him over. There was dried blood all over his face, blood from a set of sharp deep fresh gouges down his cheek. Chibs knew without a shadow of a doubt that Naomi had left those scratches on his face, that she had fought with this man for her life and he saw red. He went for the guy with his gun and his fists and his boots, beating the guy into a pulp until his chest was blazing painfully and he saw black spots dancing in his vision. He stepped away to catch his breath, leaving the guy a groaning mound of red in the foetal position on the ground. When he'd calmed himself and caught his breath, he put his gun to the guy's forehead.
"Where is she?"
The guy moaned piteously. Chibs cocked the gun.
"One more time." He said coldly. "Where is she?"
"In… inside." He managed to get out through his damaged throat, a tooth disentangling itself from his jaw and clattering onto the ground.
"How many in there?"
The guy's eyes started to roll up into his head and Chibs kicked him sharply to keep his focus.
"How many?"
"Three." The guy muttered, his eyes fluttering.
Chibs tucked his gun back into his jeans and hefted the unconscious thug into the back of the van. Presuming he had been on his way out to hide the stolen vehicle before Chibs had jumped him, Chibs circled around the van, opened up the door and yanked out the wires before taking off the brakes. The van juddered slowly before rolling down the slight incline, picking up speed as it went. Using the thug's phone, a burner presumably, he scrolled to the last number dialled and hit send. He waited until they answered, calling out the thug's name irritably as nothing but crackly silence greeted them. Chibs waited just long enough for them to get nervous and then he smashed the phone under the heel of his boot, crushing it into the ground. Ducking into a closed doorway, he watched the entrance to the warehouse. An ugly bruiser shoved open the door, hissing the thug's name suspiciously. Chibs saw the glint of metal in his hand. He lashed out, grabbed the guy's arm and yanked. The guy had a bullet in his brain before he even knew what happened. Chibs shoved him back into the warehouse out of sight of the street. One down, two to go.
Naomi had been left alone, the silence ringing in her ears as she counted her own heartbeats and prayed for her brother. Despite threatening torture, rape, mutilation and other pleasant activities, they had let her be and asked her no questions at all about the whereabouts of her brother. A part of her was inordinately grateful that her father had never told her where he'd sent Dexter, but the greater part of her was terrified of what they'd do to her when they discovered that she didn't have the information they needed.
They'd tied the bandana around her face so tightly that she couldn't even inch it a single millimetre away from her eyes. She was still blindfolded which made the faintest noises seem excruciatingly loud so when gunshots rang out she let out a scream of surprise. She jumped, dislodging herself from where they'd propped her and she curled up on the damp ground trembling. Not being able to see was terrifying; she could hear gunshots and shouting echoing from all directions and she had no idea what was going on. She screamed again when someone grabbed her, an ear-splitting shriek that hurt even her ears. She was hauled to her feet so hard, for a moment she thought her arm might have been dislocated.
"Move!"
She staggered over her feet and fell to her knees, pain shooting through her legs. He swore at her and yanked her back to her feet, shaking her so hard her head snapped backwards and forwards.
"I can't see!" She snarled back defensively.
He swore at her again, snatching the blindfold from her eyes and taking a chunk of her hair with it. He shoved her, dragging her further into the depths of the warehouse. Naomi dug in her heels, something telling her that whatever this guy was running from would surely be on her side.
"I said move, bitch!"
He'd lifted a hand to strike her when a bullet ricocheted off the brick wall behind them and lodged in the ground a mere millimetre from Naomi's bare foot. She'd barely processed the idea that someone was shooting at them when the guy grabbed her around the waist and hauled her against him. It took her a moment to realise that there was a knife at her throat, the cold metal pinching her skin. In fact she noticed Chibs before she noticed the knife. He was in a plain black hoody and jeans, presumably he'd ditched his cut so nothing he did here tonight could be traced back to the Sons. He had a look in his eyes that made her hair stand up on end. He was also pointing a gun at them. A big gun. His hand was completely steady, which was more than could be said for the guy holding a knife to her neck.
"Let her go." Chibs growled coldly.
The knife bit into her neck and Naomi felt a sharp pain and a trickle of warmth dribbling over her collarbone. She tipped a little higher onto her tiptoes to ease the pressure of the knife on her neck.
"Chibs…" Her voice sounded raw from the screaming but even she could hear it was heavy with her fear.
"It's alright, lass."
"I'll cut this bitch's throat." The guy sounded beyond unhinged, although Naomi was gratified to note that there was fear in his voice too.
She could feel the guy's hot, wet panicky breaths puffing along the back of her neck, his hand trembling against her ribs, his heart hammering against her shoulderblade.
"Just let the girl go." Chibs said calmly.
"I can't." The guy shook his head so rapidly, Naomi felt a draft from his long hair. "They'll kill me, man."
"If you don't, I'll kill you." Chibs replied, so matter-of-factly that Naomi shivered.
The guy seemed to be mulling it over; she could practically hear his eyes swivelling madly in every direction looking for a way out, his grip on her chest tightening painfully.
"If I let her go… I can get out of here?"
Chibs nodded smoothly.
"Door's over there, boy."
The second his grip loosened, Naomi ducked out of the circle of his arm and collapsed onto her knees. She was shaking so hard her teeth were chattering and the floor seemed to be juddering underneath her. A gunshot blasting out made her cower down against the ground. When she found the courage to look, her kidnapper was sprawled on the ground in a widening pool of blood.
"You okay, lass?"
Chibs brushed her hair behind her ear, his thumb brushing her cheek reassuringly. She turned to stare at him, at the moment her head the only part of her body she felt capable of moving.
"Is he dead?"
"Aye." Chibs cast a glance over towards the dead body. "If I'd let him go, he'd have come back with friends… and they'd have known who to look for."
Chibs touched her chin, tilting her head back to examine the scrape on her neck from the knife. She felt his fingers probing under her shirt, checking her stab wound. Since her knees still seemed to be jelly, Naomi leant against him as he checked her over.
"Did he hurt you?" His breath was warm against her cheek, his calloused fingers caressing the curve of her ear as he brushed her hair back again.
"No." Naomi scraped the back of her hand against her chin but the blood from her split lip had long since dried. "Smack in the face is the worst I got." She gave a mirthless little laugh, exploring the damage to her neck. "I probably deserved it, the things I was calling him."
"You do have a mouth on you." He grinned, chucking her under the chin. "Can you get up, or am I gonna have to carry your arse out of here?"
She shoved his shoulder, using his arm for leverage to get onto her feet.
"I can walk."
Chibs had not wanted to leave her the next morning; she had slept fitfully through what little remained of the night, waking often with little gasps of fear. He had slept besides her, attuned to her every movement as she cowered under the blankets with fear from her nightmares. When the Irish had banged on the door, she had woken with a start, her face bone-white as she stared across the room in terror. She had shown no emotion when he'd told her he had to leave her again. He'd gotten so used to her giving him attitude, it was like a punch to the gut when she merely shrugged one shoulder and rolled over back under the covers.
He had called her as often as he could, even making the Irish a little suspicious with all the breaks he kept taking, but she only said she was fine and not to worry in a flat monotone. It drove him insane that he was babysitting the Irish, who were doing nothing at all that would affect the club, when he should have been protecting Naomi. Luckily for him the Irish had arranged their dates for the evening and he managed to cut out before the sun had even set. He beat a hasty retreat back to the motel, worry squeezing his chest when he found her still in bed.
"Hey." He touched her back through the blanket and she stirred sleepily, rolling over towards him.
"Hi." She rubbed her eyes, offering him a little smile.
He stared at her.
"You feeling okay?" His brow was creased with concern as he studied her.
"Better." She smiled again. "I took a shower, I had something to eat. I must have fallen asleep again." She sat up, pushing her wild still damp hair away from her face. "What time is it?"
"After five. Are you okay?" Chibs repeated, unlacing his boots and dropping them into a pile with his wallet, keys and gun.
"Yeah." When he clearly didn't look convinced she touched his shoulder. "Honestly. I wrote the whole thing out and it was pretty cathartic. I think I'm okay. Well… I'm not as bad as I was, anyway." She tugged on the zipper of his cut. "You, look like shit though. Did you sleep at all?"
"Well… you fart in your sleep."
"Hey!" She threw an outraged punch at his chest, throwing him backwards onto the bed. "I do not."
"Yeah you do." Chibs grinned toothily, watching her face turn red. "Real loud ones, too."
"Shut up!" Naomi pounced at him, wrestling him onto his back and pummelling him with little punches.
"Alright, alright. I give!" Chibs laughed. "Ease up on an old man, would ya?"
She scowled at him, giving him a slap across the chest for good measure. She fell onto the bed besides him making the rusty springs creak protestingly.
"You saved my life again." She said thoughtfully, staring up at the ceiling as the fading sunlight drew colours down across it.
Chibs grunted, really not wanting to talk about it. She rolled over onto her front besides him, her long hair coiling over her shoulder. He felt a soft tickle on the back of his hand. Naomi was trailing her fingertips over his ringed fingers, the broad back of his hand, tracing circles amongst the hairs on his forearm, her delicate nails tracing the outline of his tattoos through his shirt. He'd been exhausted earlier but now he was wide awake. Her fingers drifted across the planes of his chest, curled around the zipper and drew it down. Her lips had replaced her fingers, feather-light against the reaper on his shoulder. His heart started to pound, heat pooling in his groin as she peeled apart his cut, drawing her nails down his chest through the thin material of his black shirt.
"Naomi-"
She shushed him impatiently, her lips trailing towards his neck. She slid on top of him, pushing his cut outwards until he sat up to strip it off. She kissed him feverishly, her hands plunged into his hair and tugging painfully until his scalp tingled. His hands roamed her back through the thin material of the oversized t-shirt she was wearing, circling each bump of her spine with his fingertips. She broke away to catch her breath, tickling the back of his neck.
"Lass…"
"No." She murmured, littering his face with tiny kisses. "No."
She was exploring his scarred cheeks with her soft little mouth, so close to him that he could see every freckle on her nose, every long sooty black eyelash, the flecks of silver in her wicked turquoise eyes darkening to emerald as her cheeks flushed. He realised she'd unbuttoned his shirt, was raking her nails across his bare chest until his muscles twitched from the stimulation.
"We should stop this." He said hoarsely, his voice gruff and heavy with arousal.
"Shut up." She snapped, surprising him with her fervour. "I almost died eighteen hours ago. I have a death sentence on my head. If I don't start doing things I want to do now, when else am I gonna do it?" She shoved him back and in his surprise he tumbled backwards against the pillows. "And right now… I really want to fuck you." She crossed her arms, caught the hem of her t-shirt and peeled it over her head. "So shut the fuck up."
She tossed the t-shirt into the depths of the room and Chibs's protests died in his mouth. He stared at her hungrily; the elegant curve of her back and shoulders exposing her soft perky breasts, her slender waist and flat stomach marred only by the healing scar. She tilted her head shyly so her hair fell forwards over her face, one hand fluttering over her scar to hide it. Chibs took her hand away gently, sitting up and drawing her hair away from her face. Her cheeks had flushed and she avoided his gaze shyly. He knew that for a moment she had forgotten her stab wound and the scarring she'd now have to live with, and the sudden remembrance had drained some of her confidence. He lifted her hands and placed them on either side of his face, covering his own scars. She blinked in surprise, and then her face softened and her thumbs stroked the gouges in his cheeks. He kissed her, gently at first and then harder, hungrily as she responded. Naomi's hands stroked down his neck, her nails tracing the outline of his dollar tattoo from memory. Chibs's hands circled her waist, admiring the slenderness and her soft firm skin heating up beneath his caresses. He brushed the underside of her breasts with his thumbs, drawing little circles around her nipples. Naomi shivered. His broad hands palmed her breasts gently, the cold metal of his rings causing a pleasant thrill as his fingers massaged her sensitive skin. The very tips of her fingers were tickling his daughter's name on his bare skin, his pulse visibly jumping.
"Off." Naomi murmured against his mouth and he drew back sharply.
It took him a moment to realise that she was talking about his shirt and she snickered at the look on his face, tugging on the lapels of his shirt again. He let her strip it off him and toss it aside, her hands smoothing over his bare back greedily, nails digging in just enough to raise the hairs on his arms. Chibs tipped her backwards, his mouth trailing from her throat to her collarbone, over her pounding heart and latching onto her nipple. His goatee tickled her sensitive skin and she let out a little sigh, running her hands through his hair. Her grip tightened unmercifully on his hair when his fingers brushed against her lace underwear. He continued to swirl his tongue against her sensitive skin as he teased his fingertips over the lace, exploring every inch but the one place she wanted him to touch. She squirmed impatiently, leaning back so she could glare at him. He grinned wickedly up at her, his hair falling over his forehead and his face and eyes dark with lust. She unbuttoned his jeans and belt, her fingers dancing teasingly over the dark trail of hair vanishing into his jeans. She lifted her eyebrows at him and he smirked smugly.
"Well some of the rumours are true, then." She snickered, dropping her head to run her tongue over his pulse point flickering in his throat as she rubbed and squeezed the front of his jeans.
He growled, rolling her over and tipping her onto the bed. She let out a surprised laugh, situating herself comfortably against the thin pillows as he ripped off his jeans. He crawled back onto the bed, lying beside her. His hand was resting on her flat belly, his thumb barely touching her scar, giving her the chance to change her mind. As their tongues stroked lazily, she touched his hand and gave just the tiniest nudge, enough encouragement for him to slide his hand into the lace. She was wonderfully warm and wet and his tongue lapped languidly against hers in sync with his gently probing fingers. Her thighs parted slightly to allow him better access, the friction of her smooth thigh rubbing against him quite delicious.
"Oh!" She let out suddenly, breaking away from his mouth, one hand darting to her breast and squeezing.
"That's it, lass." He breathed encouragingly, letting his goatee scrape against her delicate skin.
He pressed his mouth against her throat, biting the soft flesh enough to elicit a whimper from her before smoothing over the marks with his tongue. He watched her eyes fluttered closed, one hand massaging her breasts as her other flew to his wrist, squeezing tightly. Her hips lifted slightly as he circled her clit with his thumb and thrust two fingers inside her in one smooth movement.
"Oh!" She repeated, her hips lifting suddenly and her eyes flying open.
She pursed her lips, her brow furrowing slightly, and her grip on his wrist tightened almost painfully. He increased the rhythm of his fingers, his thumb grazing backwards and forwards over her clit. She was staring at him intensely, her eyes so dark they seemed almost all pupil. She almost seemed to be afraid of what was ahead and he held her gaze reassuringly, taking advantage of her distraction by adding another finger. She shuddered, growling low in her throat. She was so tight it was almost too much but she merely tilted her hips again, her fingers pinching her nipple.
"Chibs." She whispered breathlessly, gazing at him through half-lidded eyes. "Chibs."
He could see the exact moment she came undone; blood surging in her cheeks, her eyes bursting open ridiculously wide, her head falling backwards to expose that lovely throat still bearing his teeth marks, her whole body went rigid and he felt her fluttering frantically against his fingers, the nails of her hands simultaneously digging into his wrist and leaving marks in the soft flesh of her breast. She fell back against the pillows with a long heavy sigh, her body almost boneless sprawled amongst the sheets. She rolled her head towards him and he pressed his mouth against hers greedily. He withdrew his fingers gently, hooking his thumbs into the side of her underwear and drawing them down her long legs. Still unable to move, her knees merely fell apart and he gave her a wolfish grin, pushing her thighs down and giving her one long trailing tantalizing lick as he knelt before her. She gazed up at him, supine against the pillows with her wild halo of hair spread out beneath her. Her eyes had turned a brilliant blue as she came, but they were rapidly darkening again as she watched him. He used his fingertip to tickle her clit with one hand as the other tugged lightly on his dick. He was so hard it hurt and he felt it throb in his hand as her gaze drifted downwards and her little pink tongue darted over her lips.
"Come here." She ordered huskily.
He edged forwards, latching his mouth onto hers again. Her little hand crept between them, stroking his length softly, then rapidly, then softly again. His whole body shook and he thrust into the circle of her hand.
"You're killing me, lass." He snarled as she drew the tip of his dick up and down her lips, rubbing his slit against her clit until they both cursed.
"Now." She gasped, her breathing ragged, and he shoved her backwards, thrusting into her before her head had even hit the pillows.
"Oh God." She wailed, coiling her legs around his waist and digging her heels into the small of his back.
"Are you okay?" He panted, worried he'd hurt her.
"You're bigger than they said." She grinned, digging her nails into his buttocks.
"They?" His voice rumbled through her body from where they were joined as he thrust into her again and again, her small breasts jiggling from the impact.
"Croweaters. Sweet butts." She shrieked suddenly as his teeth sank into her breast, tongue scraping roughly at her nipple.
"Talking about me?" He growled almost angrily, not liking that she had heard stories about him from the club whores.
"Had to see… if it would be… worth… it…" She managed to get out between pants as his pace increased, the sound of flesh slapping flesh filtering between her words. "I've never wanted to fuck anyone so badly." She scraped his scalp with her nails, her mouth against his ear.
"I'm fucking you now." He said harshly, biting down on her earlobe. "Is it worth it?"
"Oh God. Oh fuck." She wailed as his thumb found her clit again. Her sweaty hair was stuck to her forehead as she jerked beneath him, the pillows long since tumbled off the side of the bed. "Goddamn, Chibs!"
She came again, her face contorting in a soundless shriek, her eyes flashing as she jerked her hips frantically to meet his thrusts.
"Fuck lass, Jesus fucking Christ!" Chibs cursed as his orgasm surged, pleasure burning from the small of his back outwards into his stomach and stretching into every millimetre of his body as he continued to pound into her.
He collapsed on top of her, his whole body trembling and his dick still spurting feebly inside her. Her heart was hammering insanely under his cheek, her body burning and slick with sweat, every inch sticking to him. She brushed his hair from his forehead gently, stroking her fingers over his shoulders and back as he fought to catch his breath.
"You almost gave me a heartattack." His laughter rumbled through her belly and she giggled.
"It would have been worth it." She said shakily.
Chibs managed to work up the energy to slide out of her and roll onto his back. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to light up with a none-too-steady hand. It had been a long time since he'd shagged like that. Like a man half his age. In fact he was pretty sure he had been half his current age the last time. Fiona. He scrubbed a hand over his face, not wanting to think about his wife in the slightest right now. Naomi had retrieved the pillows from the floor and stretched out besides him, her long nubile body pressed against his making his dick twitch feebly. He passed her the cigarette and she dragged on it thoughtfully.
"You okay?" She asked, passing him back the cigarette.
"Catching me breath." He chuckled, rubbing her bare thigh with one hand.
"So you'll be ready for round two?" She asked innocently, blinking her big turquoise eyes at him.
"Don't get greedy." He chastised, slapping her exposed buttock with a resounding crack that made her squeal.
