If there was one thing August Marks did not appreciate, it was having a wrench thrown in his plans, especially when that wrench came in the form of his valuable rat in SAMCRO being found out. Flick had been an easy target for him to recruit - ambitious, and not yet quite as loyal as his fellow prospect to the organization. He did, however, get one interesting piece of information out of the young man before his unfortunate demise.

He had made a habit of holding meetings in the suite he had given to Gemma - partially out of convenience and partially out of spite. Today, however, he came with a sheet of paper which he put down on the coffee table. Charles Kwan, who now was able to walk with the help of a cane, leaned over to glance at what he had put down. Jarry stood at her usual place by the door, though she looked far less interested than before. Gemma sat in her seat, not bothering to look at all. Her face had became pale and gaunt from sitting inside for so much of her time, only able to spend a few minutes outside in the small garden on Marks' building.

"It appears that Denise Ortiz," Marks said, placing special emphasis on the surname while glancing snidely at Charles, who winced as though it were a physical blow, "is throwing a little carnival in Charming."

Gemma's gaze flicked upward upon hearing this - events like this used to be her job, her duty as the matriarch of SAMCRO. She wasn't only the matriarch of SAMCRO, after all. All of Charming looked to her. She had once held that kind of power, that kind of esteem - and in the end, that power had wrecked her. What was Deedee doing? Her brow wrinkled as she finally leaned over and confirmed it to be true - the flier read that the carnival was sponsored by SAMCRO, and organized by Denise Ortiz.

"Quaint, isn't it?" Marks smirked, moving the piece of paper closer to Gemma, then looking at Charles. Both of them were so transparent. "It seems like your sister has other priorities than bothering with our business. Perhaps she's smarter than I thought."

Charles' expression looked briefly pained, conflicted even - but it seemed that Gemma was the only one able to sense that from him. Marks, after all, had no interest in how his business associates were feeling, as long as they were doing their assigned duties. Charles finally spoke up, his voice sounding slightly constrained. "Well," he said. "It's good to know that she's learned her place. Stopped meddling in the men's business."

"Indeed," Marks nodded smugly. "It looks very... cute," he said. Gemma had to resist the sneer tugging at her own features upon hearing his use of the word 'cute'. He was poison. It seemed like every word that passed through his lips became tainted. "Maybe we'll even pay her a little visit. Perhaps you'd like... to come?" Marks asked with a sarcastic grin in Gemma's direction, knowing full well that she couldn't step foot at an event like that without having to face her comeuppance from the club. She stared at him blankly before looking away at a far wall. Marks got to his feet then looked up at Jarry at the door, nodding for her to open it. SHe complied, and Marks had already walked halfway across the room before glancing back at Charles, who shakily got to his feet with his weight leaned heavily on his cane. "The Sheriff will see me down. I'm sure you'll catch up."

Marks and Jarry exited ahead, and Charles allowed the door to swing shut behind them before he continued pushing himself to his feet. Gemma, however, stood up and surprisingly walked over to help him move across the room.

"Your sister is up to something," she said quietly as she held him up by his arm, assisting him around the chairs and towards the door. He breathed deeply through his nostrils and replied without looking back at Gemma. "August doesn't even realize it. She's smarter than he thinks. This isn't just... just a little party."

"I know."

He knew. He had a feeling that Denise was planning something, because this wasn't something she would do. She didn't like crowds or parties, she didn't like carnivals and festivals. She was, at heart, a very solitary girl that had only opened herself up to the world, Charles knew, because of Juan Carlos Ortiz. That was the entire reason, Charles admitted to himself, why she had once been so easy to manipulate - because she had no one else. Gemma let out a noncommittal "Hmm" upon hearing his answer, and reached out to open the door for him. She didn't step outside of the suite, however. She had nowhere to go anyway.

"Are you going?" she asked suddenly, her expression a pure poker face, unrelentingly concealing the reasons why she wanted to know. Charles now looked back over his shoulder at Gemma, and when their eyes met, there seemed to be some strange, unspoken accord. Some part of both of them, regardless of their transgressions, rooted for Denise - whatever she was doing. Some part of both of them wanted escape. He nodded, and went on his way.

Happy Lowman hated sitting and doing nothing.

The fact that he was forced to stay back from a run because he'd gotten a pretty bad gash that needed stitching up from a protection run the previous night seemed like bullshit to him, but he'd eventually given in to Jax's insistence that he should stay back and avoid anymore damage. It was just hash, anyway. Nothing exciting.

So here he was, going admittedly a little bit stir-crazy in his dorm room at the clubhouse. He wasn't even in the mood to be entertained by any of the croweaters milling around - and he'd made that known pretty directly. So, when the sound of a woman's voice outside interrupted the quiet, his initial reaction was to growl in annoyance until the woman identified herself.

"It's Deedee," the voice called out. "Anybody here?"

Happy stood up, fully able to ignore the slight twinge of pain in his side from the stitches as he moved to open the door. Denise, who had been knocking on each door in turn, turned on her heel in relief and walked over.

"Where's everybody?" she asked, leaning on the side of the doorjamb.

"Run," he said succintly. "Handing off some hash in Rio Vista."

"Ah. Bumfuck nowehere," she said with a slight grin. "Well, thanks. Juice didn't say anything to me about it, and the croweaters outside never tell me anything I need to know."

"We make it a point not to tell them anything, period."

Denise looked Happy's face over - sometimes, she struggled with figuring out if he was serious, or joking, or a little bit of both. He nodded for her to come in, and she took a seat on a chair in the room, drawing her legs up underneath her.

"Your ol' man didn't tell you they were goin' on a run?" Happy asked, sitting down on the bed again. His gaze focused on Denise for a good few seconds as the gears turned in his head. Juice had been acting weird forthe past week or so - really skittish, really paranoid, couldn't look Jax in the eye. Guilty, like. "Ain't like him."

"Yeah," Denise shrugged. "He's been a little... off lately. Always working extra shifts at TM or busy with something or other. He's probably pissed at me still," she admitted. "I've been a little preoccupied, you know?"

"Yeah. A man does crazy things when he's not gettin' laid."

"How would you know?" Denise asked with a smirk. "When are you not gettin' laid?"

It had been a joke, but the lack of a shift in Happy's expression, even in the slightest, left Denise feeling incredibly unsettled. It seemed nearly impossible, but it almost appeared that the question had bothered him. And then, the answer seeped into her mind, not all at once, but like an old lightbuld slowly flickering to life. "I had a really interesting talk with Wenya the day we found out about Flick," Denise spoke up bluntly.

"Yeah?" Happy said, his eyebrows lifting slightly.

"Yeah," Denise said calmly. "Said you guys were shitfaced one day. Said you started talking about her bein' your ol' lady one day -"

"Not shitfaced," he said stiffly. "And it was strictly in hypotheticals."

"So hypothetically, if she were to be your ol' lady," Denise said, unrelenting because she knew Happy wouldn't do anything to her except stop talking, "You'd want her to stop being one of Nero's girls."

"What's mine's mine," Happy shrugged, not giving up any more information. "It was just talk. Somethin' nice about bein' able to get your dick wet with a girl who gets the life. Doesn't ask too many questions like you do - no offense."

"None taken."

Denise gave a lopsided grin, knowing that this was the closest she'd probably ever get to Happy mentioning anything that resembled feelings to her, especially when it came to Wenya. She shifted so her feet were on the ground and her elbows were resting on her knees so she could lean closer to him.

"You're a good guy, Hap. A strange, twisted kind of good, but still good," she added with a laugh, reaching out and giving his forearm a gentle squeeze before standing up to leave, knowing that this was probably the most talking she'd get him to do anyhow. She was fond of the guy, and she always felt confident that he was a good guy - in a 'King Kong, Iron Giant kind of way', she had once explained to Juice. "You take care of yourself."

"You too," he said with an upward nod as she got up and walked towards the door. "And don't let your husband keep you in the dark about shit like that."

"It's just a run," Denise shrugged. As she left, however, Happy - like Lyla - stared after her with a sneaking suspicion that Juice was keeping more from his wife than just the fact that he was going on a run. He, too, was protective over Denise in a strange way. She had a way of doing that to people, he noticed. Making them want to protect her, despite the fact that she insisted she didn't need it. Maybe that was the reason.

Denise, however, remained blissfully ignorant. Instead of dwelling on Happy's strange statements, she got in her car and drove over to Nero's place - Lyla was working on a new film today, so Nero had thankfully volunteered to watch baby Sofia while Denise had a photoshoot. She would've asked Wendy, since she always had the boys, but Wendy didn't seem to be answering her phone, and Denise hated showing up unannounced. So, when she came around to Nero's house, she knocked on the door, which he answered within seconds.

"You're gonna love this, Chinita," he said with a grin, grabbing her gently by the arm and pulling her inside. Denise was about to ask what was going on when she caught sight of Sofia, shakily pulling herself to her feet by holding onto the couch. Denise clapped her hands over her mouth with a small gasp as she saw her little baby daughter let go of the couch and move one foot, then the other. Sofia giggled loudly as she plodded along over the floor unsupported for a few more steps before sitting back down on her bottom, and Denise immediately hurried over to scoop her daughter up into her arms, peppering the little girl's chubby cheeks with kisses.

"You're walking! Oh my god," she said, hugging her daughter tightly. "You're growing up - I can't believe it!"

"Those were her first steps without holdin' nothin'," Nero reassured with a smile, reaching out and placing a hand on Denise's back fondly. "You got here just in time."

"I can't believe Juice missed it," Denise said with a sad smile. "Fifi's been trying to pull herself up and walk for days now, it was just a matter of time."

Denise placed Sofia down and allowed her to wander around, practicing her newfound skill - being the proud mother she was, Denise needed to sit and wipe at her eyes for a few short moments, during which Nero took a seat next to her, chuckling gently.

"It's alright to cry a little bit, mami," he said, laughing and shaking his head. "Your baby's growin' up - you're allowed a few tears."

"Gemma bet me that she'd be walking before her first birthday. Said it was a sure thing that she'd have strong legs, because mommy and daddy were so good at running away from their problems," Denise said with a sad laugh - there was a certain pain that came with remembering just how loving, how motherly Gemma had been for that entire year in Lovelock, hiding out at the cabin. "I - I wish things were different so she coulda seen this."

Nero gave a heaving sigh, wrapping his arm more tightly around Denise's shoulders and rubbing her comfortingly. "I wish things was different too, Chinita. Believe me," he laughed sadly. "But they ain't."

"You miss her," Denise spoke up suddenly, turning to look Nero in the eye - he opened his mouth to reply, but he quickly realized that it hadn't been a question. "I know you do," Denise continued with a nod. "And - I think I do too. Sometimes. But things are never gonna be like that again."

"I know."

"I don't know why it feels like this," Denise said honestly. "She tried to kill me. She tried to kill my baby. But sometimes, no matter what she did, no matter how bad she messed things up... I miss her."'

It went without saying, of course, that Nero knew how Denise felt. Denise let out a heaving breath before looking over at Sofia, who was now learning the joy of walking in circles. She let out a tearful laugh before turning back to Nero.

"Forgiveness is a choice, Chinita," Nero spoke up gently, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "And - and Gemma ain't here," he pointed out, the sadness in his voice ringing so clearly that it practically pierced a hole in Denise's heart. "It don't matter how angry you are at her, it won't touch 'er none. You keep that anger in there," he said, raising his eyebrows as he reached out, tapping the pads of his index and middle fingers over Denise's heart. "That don't hurt nobody except for you."

He was right, of course. Denise grudgingly admitted to herself that Nero was almost always right. Even when a part of Denise wanted to chalk it up to him missing Gemma, to him loving her so much that he'd always choose her, right or wrong, she knew that there was nothing selfish about the words he was saying to her.

"I know. I know forgiving somebody's a choice," Denise said with a sad smile. "I just don't think it's a choice that I can make right now."

Nero nodded, patting a hand on Denise's back a couple of times. "Don't blame you," he admitted with a tired sigh, leaning backwards into the couch. "But just remember. All you get outta keepin' count of the people who did you wrong is pain. Don't none of us need any more of that."

A/N's

Very brief chapter, setting a few things up for the next update. The next few chapters are going to be a little bit of a roller coaster, and I'm still editing them to my liking, but I'm hoping to have them ready for posting soon! I also might be posting some of my playlists/mixes for writing the story soon on my tumblr (la-vik-ffn), if anyone is interested!

Anyway, hope this humble chapter is to your liking! The next one will hopefully come either tomorrow or Tuesday. Until then, cheers!