"And this is where you'll be staying, Mrs. Teller."
August Marks had shown up without Charles to greet Althea and Gemma when they pulled into the gated, walled entry drive to his latest office building. It had taken two days to arrive, with constant car-switching and abandoned safehouse-hopping in order to throw everyone off of their trail.
Having arrived at their destination, Gemma, for her part, wordlessly followed until she was shown to a tucked away high-floor suite that would have admittedly been spectacular if not for that the fact that it didn't have any windows. August left Gemma to get settled in Jarry's company, and, now that they were left alone, the women stared at one another.
To be fair, they had never been fond of one another. Jarry indeed harbored deep bitterness towards Gemma, for helping to cultivate the Charming culture that had been a death knell to her career. But now, they were in business together. They had to be allies - they were no longer welcome among SAMCRO and in the town of Charming because of their respective betrayals. This was all they had left.
"So, you tried to kill Kwan. Money started to look good after all?" Jarry asked, raising her eyebrows questioningly. "Gemma, you are a piece of work - you're getting sloppy. You had a whole year to do it and you chose now -"
"Sheriff, you should know better than to open your mouth about things you don't understand. You don't know shit about me and Denise. I love that girl," Gemma said stiffly, stalking towards Jarry and drawing herself up to full height, looking the woman in the eye. "Like my own -"
"Like your own? I don't see you trying to Saran wrap Jax's head," Jarry said, unable to resist the chance to challenge the Queen of Charming herself now that the opportunity was so plainly placed in front of her. "But then again, I hear she would've been the second kid of yours that you killed -"
There was a loud smack as Gemma's hand - bare, for the first time in a long time, of any rings - collided with the side of Jarry's face, and her head snapped to one side. She sneered, and retaliated by slapping Gemma across the face as well. Gemma, however, was through. She wouldn't waste any more energy on this woman, because it wasn't needed. But the insinuation - the thought that she would have done something to harm her own child, warranted some sort of consequence.
"So what makes the Sheriff turn herself into August Marks' little bitch?" Gemma asked snidely, raising an eyebrow and ignoring the reddening mark on her face where she'd been struck. "No one casts their lot with the devil for shits and giggles, sweetheart. Chibs had enough of you, so you went looking for a higher class dick to choke on?"
"Don't call me sweetheart," Jarry sneered in disgust, her eyes flaring in anger - she had enough of these condescending nicknames from the men in training, at work, all her life really. "I've worked too hard," she continued honestly. "The only way to keep a career in Charming is to turn it to a different town. Change it from what SAMCRO made it into. What you made it into. August Marks can do that for me."
"You hid this from me for two days?" Denise asked shrilly, unable to believe what she was hearing while SAMCRO was practically holding chapel at her bedside. "Gemma's been out for two days and you tell me now?"
"We wanted you to get your strength back, babe," Juice said sternly. "She's hurt you enough, and it was our call - we didn't want you to take ten steps back just because of -"
"I deserved to know," Denise said weakly. She had been especially irritable in these past couple of days when she'd quickly learned that because of the loss of oxygen to her brain, she'd have a ways to go, rebuilding her strength and her ability to control her movements. She could talk just fine, but she still wasn't able to eat on her own, to walk, to pick things up for herself. The complete dependence on others was maddening.
"She went to Marks," Jax spoke up, spilling the final piece of the puzzle that was being withheld, and as it tumbled out of his mouth, the others seemed to stand aside silently, knowing that with everything on the table, the discussion was about to get much more serious. The beeping noise in the room grew rapid, and Juice winced at the realization that Denise's pulse grew faster as she learned the news. "She's betrayed us all - me, my boys, the club," Jax said with a frank gesture of his arms. "You vouched for her, you brought her back here, and she did this - I have no mother, Dee. She betrayed us to cover her own ass."
Denise fell quiet at this, looking defeated at the fact that there was nothing she could say in good faith to counter the statement - she, herself, would have expressed her hatred for Gemma as well if she'd only had the strength to truly feel it in her current state.
"I didn't think it was right for you to know that you're in danger like this," Jax admitted, crossing his arms. "But now that you know - Juice and I agreed. You will always have one of us posted outside your door."
It was possibly the most heartbreaking thing for Juice so far, seeing that Denise didn't put up a fight when Jax told her this - she hated the idea when Juice had brought it up to her, that she should have someone protecting her, but now, she had no choice. She was truly defenseless, unable to look out for herself.
The biggest relief of the past couple days was possibly the end of that one - Denise was a little stronger, much more lucid, and the rest of the club had cleared out, save for Brucey and Flick, who volunteered to take the first shift of the evening after Juice. The pair of prospects had gone down to the cafeteria, to give Juice time alone with his wife. He was sitting by her head, holding out his phone and flipping through the pictures he had taken of Sofia in the time that Sofia had been unconscious - he had missed her smile, and this was the easiest way to bring it out. For now, Wendy watched Sofia while everyone visited with Denise, mostly because Denise was still unable to even hold her, and she was scared of her baby daughter being in a hospital full of sick people.
Juice had lowered the siderails of the hospital bed on one side so he could sit next to her, to feel close to her again. He reached over and stroked her hair, hardly able to speak because he knew that it was still hard for her.
"I can't wait until you're home," Juice said honestly, eliciting a small smile from his wife, who was able to reach up and place her hand over his, attempting to give it a weak squeeze. "How'd they say you're doin'?"
"I'm supposed to be starting physical therapy soon," she said, sounding defeated yet again. "Hopefully walking soon, eating human food," she added with a forced laugh. "God, I'm so -"
"Don't say it," Juice said, reaching out and running his hand over the side of her face, knowing that she was about to belittle herself, as though she'd asked for this, as if any of it had been a choice. "Don't even start that, okay? I don't care if I gotta fireman carry you everywhere forever, I love you - I'm gonna take care of you, no matter what I gotta do."
He grabbed her hand and brought it up to brush his lips across her knuckles, and surely enough, both of them were crying. This entire ordeal was just so painful, so defeating. Juice felt so useless, knowing that as good as his intentions were, he couldn't ease any of what Denise was going through.
The only reason Juice was able to pry himself away from Denise's side was because she reminded him that he needed to pick up Sofia, and that he could come back in the morning - but by the time she had managed this evening, it was almost ten in the evening. He leaned over and kissed her forehead gently, lingering for a good while before pulling back and staring at Denise. "I'll be back before the sun, baby," he said with a small smile. "Promise."
The quiet that had now come upon the room after Juice had left was strangely refreshing - Denise didn't necessarily like being alone, but the past couple of days since she'd woken up had been emotionally trying. It hurt, though she would never say it in so many words, seeing everyone look at her with worry and pity. She never wanted to be that person, the poor victim, that damsel. That wasn't who she was, not who she strived to be. She felt tears running over her cheeks, and she felt relieved that Brucey and Flick were sitting outside, chowing down on vending machine burritos. She wouldn't have known how to feel about crying in front of them yet. Instead, once she had vented as much as she needed to, she simply allowed herself to doze off.
She wasn't sure how long she napped for, but she knew that she slowly returned to wakefulness with her eyes still shut - she heard the sound of something scraping slightly against the floor and opened her eyes, expecting to see Juice back - but she was quickly mistaken.
"Charles."
She caught sight of her older brother in the moonlight and her gaze went cold - it took a moment to register the fact that he was in a wheelchair. Her husband's handiwork. Her brow furrowed, and her breaths grew slightly more shallow.
"Leave," she sneered. "Where are -"
"Those two idiots outside?" Charles asked calmly. "Paid one of the nurses for something to slip into their drinks. We have a while."
Denise bristled, feeling strangely protective of the two SAMCRO prospects - they were slow at times, they were careless and childish, but it didn't mean that she felt right about them being drugged on the job. "This wasn't supposed to happen to you. To us," Charles said stiffly, his eyes glancing over his younger sister in the hospital bed. "I didn't want any of this."
"Neither did I. I guess that's the only thing you and I still have in common," Denise leveled. There was no use getting angry, it wasn't as though she could fight him, being in the state she was in. Charles wheeled himself as close as he could with her bed, leaning over and trying to reach out for her hand.
"I didn't want to fall in with Marks, I didn't have a choice," he said, his gaze filled with an almost believable sense of terror that inclined Denise to at least let him speak. "I'm not a criminal, Mei, all I wanted was -"
"You weren't a criminal. You are now," Denise replied. "You attacked me. You left me to die. You tried to take my daughter away from me. You've turned into him. Uncle Henry."
Charles' jaw clenched at the very frank confession from his sister, unable to accept it. He shook his head. "He's dead. Uncle is dead, Meimei. You don't have to worry about him anymore. Just come with me, and August will -"
"I'll die first," Denise interrupted, her eyes narrowing. "I'll never work for Marks. Never -"
"It'll be the best thing that ever happened to you, Mei - he'd not a good man, but he'll get us everything we ever wanted."
"You don't get to decide what's good for me anymore, Charles," she said coldly. "This - Charming, my family, SAMCRO - this is what I choose. You don't get to decide for me anymore. That's over."
Charles backed off slightly, hissing quietly as though he'd been burned, his gaze somewhat dazed on his sister as he realized that she was no longer the angry, confused girl who followed him in his every move. "One day, Meimei," he said slowly. "You will forgive me. You're my sister."
"You remembered that a little too late, Charles."
And for a brief moment, Denise saw it. Her brother, for that small moment, was truly hurt - truly human. "Man zou, Meimei." Take care, little sister. Denise inhaled slowly, feeling her throat tightening so that her reply came out quiet and forced.
"Zaijian, gege". Goodbye, big brother.
The finality of the statement, the loss of his sister, his only remaining family, seemed to truly strike Charles as even in the stark moonlight, his face looked more pale. He inclined his head in a strangely reverent bow and wheeled away. Once the sound of his wheelchair disappeared into the distance, Denise drew a shuddering breath, feeling a few warm tears streak their way down her cheeks.
"What the..."
Brucey and Flick came into the room, looking confused - Denise realized they must have caught a glimpse of Charles as he left, and they stared at Denise with extremely guilty expressions on their faces for having failed at guard duty. For a prospect a foul up of that proportion was practically the end of the road. Sensing their fear, Denise shot them a small smile.
"I won't tell anyone," she said quietly. "As long as you two don't."
A/N's
A little more slow burn for you! There's a lot of foundation to set before the shit really hits the fan, so sit tight. We're getting there!
I had one of you guys ask in a PM about casting choices for Brucey, and I haven't really cemented that in my mind yet. I have a picture in my head, but no good casting choices. If it comes, though, you'll know! I love casting my characters, because I'm a GIF addict and I love making Tumblr gifsets with scenes from the story.
Anyway, I'm working away at the next couple chapters for you, and I'm hoping they'll be done quick! I love hearing from you and your reviews brighten my day. I'm having a hectic holiday season, and you two are getting me through in one piece, so again, as always, thank you guys! Cheers!