"What's on your mind, honey?"

Wendy glanced over at Abel, sitting quietly in the front seat of her car and looking down at his hands while she drove him across town to the office where he'd been assigned his first session with a counselor, a specialist in child trauma. Jax had hated the idea of sending his son there, but Wendy had insisted that there was a lot that Abel could stand to talk about. Granted, it was also a chance to spend time with her son, but it was under a circumstance that she never would have wished on him.

It had been a rare moment of pragmatism on Jax's part when he'd very quickly realized that without Denise around to bring Abel places, Wendy was, if nothing else, the next best thing. No therapist would have a high opinion of criminals and pornstars coming to drop a young boy off to therapy, but Wendy, despite having her obvious history of demons, was likely to be the safest bet in their eyes.

She only wished it felt that way when she was sitting next to Abel, who still barely spoke. He looked so tired, as though he had aged overnight. For hours, he had refused to leave the hospital room where Denise was saying, muttering drowsily that he still had to protect her, that he was scared she would get hurt. Juice was eventually able to assure him that he'd be able to keep Aunt Deedee safe, but even in the comfort of his own bed, Abel had refused to sleep.

And now, here he was, practically a statue in his seat. Wendy glanced over at him with a doleful expression.

"Abel?"

"Aunt Deedee is really nice," he said in a quiet voice, practically shrinking into his sweatshirt. "She's a really nice lady. Why did Grandma hurt her?"

Wendy had to take a breath - she almost regretted asking. She wasn't equipped to deal with things like this. There were times that she felt so incapable. She had only just learned to handle her own problems in better ways, and she was frankly terrified of failing at making her son's any better.

"Your Grandma is very, very confused about what it means to care about somebody," Wendy said carefully. "She - Abel, I don't know why."

Unsatisfied, he sighed, not looking up from his clasped hands in his lap. They drove along in silence until Wendy finally parked the car in front of the building. She got out of her side, moving around the car to the passenger side and opening the door for Abel, who didn't move.

"Daddy said Grandma was sick and that's why she couldn't stay with us," he said, sounding even tinier and even more defeated. "I thought she was better. She took care of us. Aunt Deedee always called her to come see us. They were helpin' me with my costume. I thought... I thought Grandma was better..."

"We all did, baby," Wendy said, reaching out and gently touching his cheek. "Especially your Aunt Deedee. We don't always know why these bad things happen."

None of these answers seemed to give Abel a sense of peace, and Wendy felt guilt gnawing at her insides. She wanted so badly to say something - anything that would comfort the boy, and yet everything she said seemed only to pull him deeper and deeper into his own thoughts. She never wanted to see him hurt, and she certainly never wanted to contribute to that hurt. Never again.

"I need to tell Aunt Deedee I love her," Abel continued, his brow furrowing. "I need to tell her I'm not mad at her."

"Sweetie, what are you -"

"Before bed last night," Abel said, his voice starting to shake. "I wanted to eat the marshmallows in the kitchen and she said no because it was time for bed and I'd get a tummy ache. And she made me some warm milk, and I told her I didn't want it." Wendy swore she felt her heart break as she saw his lip quivering while he spoke, but he forced himself to continue - and Wendy knew that he needed to say it, because he'd been keeping it inside all night. "I told her I was mad at her and I hated her and I went to bed. I slammed the door on her - I woke up because I wanted to say sorry, but... but then... Grandma..."

"Shh," Wendy said, leaning over and embracing him gently as he sniffed back tears with valiant effort, though a few now managed to escape. "I know it hurts, baby. We just have to keep hoping that things are gonna be okay. None of this is your fault."

"Grandma didn't hurt me," he said quietly, still not looking up. He simply pulled away from Wendy's embrace, resuming his earlier blankness. "How come I have to come here to see this doctor?"

"This is... a different kind of doctor, honey," Wendy said, reaching out and putting her hand over his and squeezing gently. "This is a kind of doctor for... for your feelings."

"I don't want feelings," Abel said. His voice was still blank, but upon looking at him, Wendy felt a stab of pain at the fact that his eyes were tearing up. "I don't want 'em. They always hurt."

Calling Jax a king could hardly, at this point, even be considered hyperbole. Anyone else would have been prohibited or at the very least discouraged if they had shown up to the slammer where Gemma was being held, but the instant Jax Teller, accompanied by Juice who seemed pale and sick as he awaited his moment to face Gemma, arrived at the front desk, he was hurriedly allowed to sign in and meet with his mother. He needed to catch her now, before she was formally charged for what she had done to Denise, or else he'd lose his easy access to her.

When Gemma Teller-Morrow was brought in and allowed to sit on the other side of a table from Jax and Juice, the latter man simply sat with his hands folded in his lap, unable to look at the woman.

"Deedee made it through the night. Spared you a murder charge. Still doin' everythin' she can to make your life easy," Jax said stiffly, eyeing the woman across the table. "Not that I expect gratitude from you, Gemma. No one's sacred to you -"

"That's not true," Gemma interrupted, her voice fierce and adamant despite its hoarseness from her night in a dry, dusty holding cell. "You matter to me. Thomas matters. Abel matters -"

"Abel? Your grandson that Wendy's takin' to a fuckin' shrink right now because he thinks it's his fault that his Aunt Deedee's laid up in the ICU?" Jax sneered. "I'm not here to get you out. I'm here for answers. Why -"

"Why did I do it?" Gemma asked, her expression hard as she leaned slightly across the table. "Because I've got nothing else to offer you and the boys, Jackson. Nothing. But with her and Sofia gone, the money would go to Juice and Juice's loyalties would be back with the club, no distractions -"

"My wife and my daughter aren't fuckin' distractions, Gemma," Juice snarled, still looking down at his hands in his lap. Jax gave Juice an almost reverent glance when he realized that the man was shaking with barely contained rage. "Gemma, how -"

"How could I? Quit with the melodrama, Juice. I was doing what I needed to -"

"I mean, how?" Juice hissed, his eyes narrowed as he finally raised his gaze to meet Gemma's, revealing his reddened eyes, enveloped in dark circles from his long, sleepless night watching over his wife in her hospital bed. "How did you do it? I want you to tell me how you tried to kill my wife."

"I'm sorry, Juice -"

"Abel came running to me crying," Juice continued, unwilling to be stopped. His voice grew in volume and in pace as he leaned over the table as well. "He sat next to her in that hospital begging her not to die, saying he was sorry for not getting the bag off, saying he went as fast as he could."

"Oh, God..." Gemma gasped, raising her hand to cover her mouth. How was she meant to explain to them that it was only meant to give Abel a better life, not to hurt him. "I'm so sorry -"

"What. Did. You. Do?" Juice pushed, his lip curling into a sneer.

"It - it was a plastic bag. And tape," Gemma said hesitantly, drawing herself up straight in an attempt to maintain what little composure she could. Juice practically went green, feeling sickness rising in his stomach at the thought of his wife now, gasping for air, slowly suffocating. But it wasn't enough. Juice needed to know everything. He needed to know every sin she had committed against his family.

"And Sofia?"

"Abel walked in... right when I picked up a pillow from her next to her crib..."

Now, Juice looked visibly sick, and he clapped a hand over his mouth, looking upward and gulping hard as though to fight back a violent retching sensation. He let out a humorless laugh, and thought of Darvany Jennings.

And Jax knew, the instant Gemma had spoken. He knew what would come to Juice's mind. He would remember the cabin where he'd killed Darvany, the same cabin where Jax had brought Denise to kill her uncle. For a few brief, electric seconds, it was as though the pair shared from the same pool of thoughts, the chain of events that had brought them all here.

So many small events, small actions, had avalanched into this very moment.

"My wife..." Juice finally spoke up weakly, his voice unsteady and his hands now clenched into fists under the table. "She loved you like her own mom. She gave you your family back. She and I, after everything - after what we both did to protect you," he rambled, the tether on his emotions quickly coming undone. His palms slapped loudly on the surface of the table, and he rose slightly, leaning over so his face was close to Gemma's. "If she dies, Gemma, I swear to you -"

"Enough." Jax said authoritatively, rising to his feet and placing a hand on Juice's chest, pushing him back into the chair he had risen from. Juice still shook, and he seemed hard-pressed to remained seated; Jax kept a hand on him until his heaving breaths slowed, and then he turned back to his mother. "You're out. You have no more family here. You've turned on everyone who has ever tried to save you, and the game is over. My son -"

Now, Jax's voice briefly failed him, and he raised a fist over his mouth, practically having to bite his knuckle to maintain his composure. "If Deedee dies, it'll wreck him even worse. So when they drag you back to that cell, pray to God she lives and cross your fingers He listens," he managed to say.

And those were their parting words - Gemma felt a sort of numbness wash over her as she watched them leave. No one understood. All she had ever tried to do was create the life for them that they deserved, even if they didn't know it was best for them yet. She only wanted what was best.

Jax and Juice both looked incredibly weary as they made their way out, but Juice was not beyond noticing the strange, infuriated expression on Jax's face as he looked back down at the sign-in sheet that he and Juice had hurriedly scrawled their names onto on their way in. He hadn't even bothered to look at it until now, and Juice, unable to help himself, moved over to look down at the names just above theirs on the list.

Charles Kwan and August Marks.

"They came to see Gemma, " Jax said grimly, and now, it was his face that seemed off-color, while Juice simply shook his head in awe. "They were here first."

"And you're sure you can make this happen? Sheriff?"

Althea Jarry could hardly believe what she had agreed to - but now that Mayor Bollinger had practically decimated any hope she had for a career in Charming, or anywhere in the state, she was forced to find allies where she could. And that was what had led her to August Marks. It was only right. August Marks was the only one who held anything over the mayor's head that could move him to give back what he had taken from Jarry. He was the devil, and Althea knew it - but he was the only one who could get her back what was hers.

"Gemma's going to be transported tomorrow morning. Little bird told me," she assured him, standing at attention while he sat relaxedly in an armchair. A little bird, of course, meant her new, very green interim replacement that she'd very graciously enticed into sharing information with her. "Everything will go as planned. I'll make sure there are no foul-ups."

"For your sake, there had better not be," Marks said coolly, looking down over himself and calmly smoothing out the front of his suit jacket, but not rising or making any gesture of reverence whatsoever. "I make very simple requests, Sheriff. Very direct requests. So I have no concept of understanding for people who fail me."

A/N's

Short chapter this time around! Don't want to overwhelm you with too much of the heavier plot details just yet because if you're anything like me, you're still adjusting the show being over. It's especially rough for me to give Juice such a heavy, sad subplot already, but it's all necessary for the story, promise!

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this short chapter! The next one should be coming for you soon. But in the mean time, mull over some theories about what's going on, and let's see if any of my lovely readers/followers/reviewers can foresee the events of upcoming chapters! I've had some very spot-on guesses from reviews in the past. Until the next update, cheers!