The fact that Denise seemed to be keeping to her word of stepping back from club matters gave Juice a couple of, admittedly, the happiest weeks in his life. He'd approached Jax the next day and said his peace, said that Denise was an ol' lady and should be protected like one not treated like an associate. The club had a policy, a tradition of how women were approached.

Jax, to his credit, had been surprisingly accepting of Juice's opinion and had kept a respectful distance from Denise when it came to club business. Things had seem to come to a calm lull, and Denise's only concerns had been Sofia, and the occasional photoshoot, which were enough time out of the house to keep her from getting cabin fever. The fact that Denise was keeping busy with other things in turn took up the time she usually spent watching Jax's boys, which gave Wendy an in to spend time with them as well.

Juice was pleased beyond measure at the fact that things had seemed to reach a point of stasis, and he had become comfortable with the new turn that things were taking. He spent most of the day at TM - like old times - and nights when there were no runs at home with his wife and daughter. Maybe, he began to believe, it really was possible to have it all.

The fragile peace was shattered, however, when one morning, Nero burst onto the lot of TM, followed by Gemma, who was holding baby Sofia in her arms. Juice bristled at the sight and immediately hurried over, not even thinking of his greasy coveralls, scooping his daughter out of Gemma's hands. Jax hurried over as well.

"Where's Dee? How come Sofia's with you two?" he asked, standing just barely a few paces behind Juice.

"Gemma - she was at my place," Nero began, slightly hesitant as Jax sneered slightly at this first piece of information. "Chinita came in ranting and raving about CPS coming by the house, asking all kinds of questions."

"CPS?" Juice interrupted, his arms tightening around his daughter. "What the f-"

"Juice."

Juice inhaled sharply through his nostrils upon being chided by Gemma, but he knew that Denise went to almost obsessive lengths to keep that kind of language away from their daughter until she was older, which was admittedly a daring mission when the baby's father was in a club like SAMCRO. "What'd they want?" he said through gritted teeth. "Why'd you leave Dee alone back at your place?"

"We didn't," Gemma continued, crossing her arms over her chest. "She said CPS came by because someone reported you two, saying you were raising baby Fifi in an unsafe environment and that the baby might be better off with other relatives -"

"Charles."

"That's what Dee thought too," Nero said. "They talked to her for a while, found out that shit was unfounded and that Fifi's got a good family, a good home - said sorry and got out. But Dee was shook. Left the baby with us and just ran off, we don't know where she -"

Juice's expression grew into shock as he looked between Nero, Gemma, and Jax, before his gaze settled on his daughter. Jax's jaw clenched as well. Now, it was obvious where she'd gone.

"I'll give Wendy a heads up, tell her to come here and pick up Sofia - you go after your wife," Jax nodded, extending his arms to take the baby. As much as Juice disliked the idea of leaving his baby here under these circumstances, certain things had to take precedence.

They had been so close. They had nearly gotten themselves settled into a life where Denise stayed back, where she kept herself safe. Now? Now they were back to this. As much as Juice had attempted to be an advocate for moving on, for forgetting, even if forgiveness was impossible, he now felt himself embittered with absolute hatred for Charles Kwan.

"The boys and I'll start without you," Jax continued as Juice continued to seethe with anger. "Once Wendy gets here to watch the baby, we'll start plannin' how we strike back at the Triads for this one.

There was an unexpected sense of comfort in the fact that Juice could count on his brothers to make things right - to make sure that this senseless hostility was answered for. That was taken care of. Now, all he needed to do was find his wife before anything happened, anything he had sworn to prevent. As he ran off to change out of his coveralls and leave, however, Jax's hard, suspicious gaze then turned on his mother.

"Why didn't you stop her?" Jax asked, his voice low and guttural as he maintained an even expression for the sake of the baby in his arms. "Nero got Fifi shoved into his arms. What's your excuse?"

Gemma's expression stiffened, and she tilted her chin up proudly - almost defiantly. Jax's eyes narrowed, and he took a step back, shaking his head in apparent disgust. "For someone who only had a roof over her head for a year because of Deedee, you're pretty calm now that she might be in danger."

"She's a big girl."

"Right," Jax said, his upper lip curling slightly into a sneer. "'Course that's it. You almost had me thinkin' you wanted somethin' to happen to her."

Charles Kwan didn't see anything wrong with the fact that he had taken up residence in his Uncle's nicest home - it was a shame for it to go to waste. He enjoyed the fireplace, the hardwood flooring, the vaulted ceilings. He loved the view from the Oakland hills. Even if he was completely alone, save for the revolving door of underling Triads who came through, it was well worth it. He was coming up in the world. Success was lonely. That was simply the way of things.

He was sitting alone, drinking a glass of scotch in one of the deep, winged armchairs situated in the living room when he heard a crash from the other side of the house. He reached into the drawer of the side table for his handgun and got to his feet, but before reaching the archway that led to the dining room, he was met by Denise, holding a wooden two-by-four in one hand that she must have used to bash the back window in. With her other hand, she pulled her own gun from a holster at her waist.

For a moment, the siblings simply stood in silence, neither raising their weapons at the other. Charles' expression was full of fear, while Denise's was full of anger - her chest heaved furiously.

"Mei-"

"Don't," she said darkly, her forehead wrinkled in hardly restrained rage. "You're no brother of mine. I know it was you."

"You had to be taught -"

But before Charles could begin any grandiose speeches towards his sister, the likes of which she had usually sat through and listened to, she swung out furiously, using the two-by-four and sending an antique lamp on the side table crashing in pieces, with shards of the blue and white porcelain flying, forcing Charles to raise his hands to shield his face, clumsily dropping his gun in the process so it skittered across the floor, sliding to a spot where Denise stopped it with her foot before kicking it across the room.

"What you did to me is one thing," Denise sneered, stalking closer to Charles now that he was completely defenseless - he threw his arms up and took a few steps backward. Denise felt a stirring inside of her, knowing that she could do anything to him, and he could do absolutely nothing. "But what you did - it could have cost me my daughter. And if you do anything that could take my daughter away from me, no one can protect you from me. Not Marks. Not the Triads. Not anyone."

She could show him, right now, just what it felt like to be completely powerless. Denise made the next few moments unknowingly, hardly realizing she was moving at all until she was standing dangerously close to her brother, the wooden two-by-four fallen to the floor, the barrel of the gun in his face.

"You won't do this, Mei. After everything we've been through -"

"After everything you've put me through, you mean?" Denise snarled, her eyes glinting with an unfamiliar sort of uncontrollable fury. "You think I can't? I killed Uncle Henry, Charles. I shot him. Just like this -"

Charles raised his hands and braced himself, shielding his face in an act of immobilized cowardice, only to find that the sound of a shot did not come. Instead, there was the sound of a struggle. He lowered his arms to see him - Juice Ortiz, the man with the head tattoos - wrestling the gun out of Denise's hands.

"Give it back, Juice!" she said, struggling to get the Beretta out of Juice hands, but the edge in her voice had disappeared as she was seemingly snapped out of her trance. "I'm not done -"

"Yes. You are," he snarled, sounding uncharacteristically rough. Charles had never heard the man speak to his sister that way. "We're going home -"

"He tried to get them to take our daughter -"

"And he failed. And he's always going to fail - as long as you don't do stupid shit like this."

"Mei-"

"You shut the fuck up, Kwan," Juice said, sneering angrily. "This isn't for you. I'm doing this for my wife because you're not worth it. She's too good for this. We're leaving."

Juice yanked Denise by the arm away, back towards the back door that she had left open. But, almost as an afterthought, Juice turned and fired two shots expertly into each of Charles' legs, sending him collapsing to the floor and howling in pain.

He'd had no choice except to let Denise drive home in the car she had brought, since neither of them could take the risk of leaving their modes of transportation nearby in case Charles needed to call an ambulance, but he'd managed to talk her down quickly, directing her to pick up Sofia from Wendy's house and go home.

It would be until hours later after chapel that Juice would manage to get home to find Denise holding Sofia on the couch, her eyes red and swollen. He sat down next to her wordlessly, leaning his elbows onto his knees and turning his head to look at her.

Juice was pretty sure it was for the best that he hadn't come home to talk to her right away - at first, he hadn't known whether to be furious or worried sick. But after sitting at the table with his brothers, he'd come to a realization when he saw that they seemed to be just as furious tht Charles Kwan had threatened Denise, because Denise was one of them now. She was an ol' lady, she had a child with one of their brothers, and Charles Kwan had taken action against her. Charles was the one who'd committed the unforgivable sin. Denise had simply done what a mother was supposed to do.

"I'm sorry," Denise said weakly, her eyes focused on Sofia, who was drowsily babbling and resting in Denise's arms. "I - I know I said I'd step back. I've been trying -"

"I know, baby," Juice said, leaning over and kissing her forehead. "I know you have."

"It's just - when it comes to Sofia," Denise said, her voice distant and weak in her throat, "I don't think I can stop myself. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't gotten there when you did."

"But I got there. I will always get there, baby," Juice said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close so that he could feel both Denise and Sofia's warmth against him. "You're my -"

"Your ol' lady."

"My wife," Juice corrected. "You're my wife, and I swear to God, I'm going to protect you. I don't want you to have something like that on your hands. I know what the does to you, and you and me, we're not made for this. We're not right for this."

Denise sniffled, and Juice felt a pang of guilt, knowing he had made her cry. As much as he wanted to feel needed, to feel like she needed him to be the strong one, seeing her this fragile was so foreign, he hardly knew how to take it in. He held her tighter, and took a breath. He had nearly forgotten that there was something he needed to tell her.

"The club decided - they're gonna take care of makin' the next move against the Triads," Juice said. "Jax is gonna take care of it."

Denise made a small noise along with a nod, but still couldn't be distracted from looking at their daughter. She couldn't believe that in the span of a single day, she'd been the most terrified, and then the most infuriated than she had perhaps ever been in her life. No matter what they did to make things right, to get revenge, nothing would ever erase the memory of those feelings.

"Baby?"

Denise finally forced herself to look up, sensing the hesitation in her husband's voice, and her brow furrowed in concern.

"We're goin' on a run tonight. With the Mayans - tryin' to keep 'em locked in as allies if we're goin' to war with Marks and... and your brother," Juice explained. "Jax wanted to leave the boys with you if you were up to it, but - there's always Wendy, or Lyla -"

"No, no, I'm okay," Denise said, shaking her head and putting on a forced, tired smile. "It'll be good for me, distracting myself. Maybe if the boys are around, I could get back to feeling normal. Tell Jax to bring 'em by."

A/N's

So, Denise came really close to doing something she'd regret this chapter, and Juice had to pull her back from the edge - which was actually a nice dynamic to write, having Juice be the stable one. Anyway, the next chapter might be a little delayed, just because of the finale. Chapter 12 is going to be a little bit of a tough one too, so I don't want to stack it on top of the series finale.

Plus, I'm going to be at a training for work all week, so I might not have quite as much time as usual.

Anyway, in light of the fact that this is the last update before The Final Ride is over, I wanted to again say a special 'thank you' to all of my readers and reviewers. This season has been a crazy one for me to watch, and a really stressful one at times as well. So, writing this story has linked me to all of you and given me my own little support system. I love you guys, and I hope the end of the show doesn't mean the end of anything else. I'll still be here, and I hope you all will too!

In any case, all reviews are appreciated, and feel free to message and vent about the show, or to shoot me any ideas as well! I'm still in the process of rewriting chapters that I lost, so I'm still actively writing! Until next time, cheers!