It was dark out, and they should have been home by now - even when they had heard nothing from any of the guys yet, there was an ominous unsureness that settled like a fog in the living room among the adults while the children slept upstairs.

Denise jumped quickly when the shrill cry of the ringing phone on the table finally went off. She shakily snatched it from the table and held it in Chibs's direction. "They'll wanna hear from you. It'll help," she nodded resolutely. Rather than miss the call, Chibs accepted it and flipped it open as he got up from his seat and walked towards the back door.

It would help them, Denise was sure, to know that Chibs was alive - that they hadn't lost a brother after all.

"What do we do when everybody gets back?" Wenya asked, pulling a one of the throw blankets from Denise's couch around herself while Chibs disappeared outside. "Do we celebrate? Do we -"

"I think we should," Lyla shrugged. "This has probably been one the worst things that's happened to us in a while, and it's finally over."

There was a lingering shared smile at the word over. The idea that the worst of this had in fact passed them was refreshing, and the guilt was finally beginning to lift from their shoulders. Wendy, in particular, reached out for Denise's hand and gave it a small squeeze. Forthe two of them, it had been particularly nightmarish, but at least now they knew that their actions had been right, that in the end, they hadn't hurt anyone by choosing Bobby because soon, Bobby and Chibs would both be home in Charming where they belonged.

Wendy had barely opened her mouth to say something when suddenly there was an audible thud outside, and Chibs's silhouette was suddenly no longer visible in the window. Denise was the first to get to her feet, and she held out her hand to signal the others to wait while she went to figure out what had happened. Already, her stomach was sinking. Already, as she took hesitant steps towards the back door, she felt her spirits falling. She paused when she placed her hand on the door handle, waiting a moment before pushing it open.

"Chibs, what was -"

Denise's words halted in her throat and retreated to the knots in her stomach when she saw that Chibs had dropped the phone and fallen to his knees on the wood boards of the back patio. She glanced over her shoulder and caught sight the other girls, who looked over in surprise upon hearing Denise gasp. There was a beat, a moment of fearful pause before Denise slowly knelt on the ground next to Chibs, hesitantly placing a hand on his back. When she did, she realized that he was shaking.

He was crying.

"Chibs," she said, her voice reluctant to even leave her lips. "Chibs, what's going on?" There was an unintelligible mumble from his lips, muffled into his hands. "Chibs?"

"Bobby's dead."

The words escaped the older man's mouth in a violent, body-shaking sob, and he slammed his fist on the ground, making a pitiful groan of a noise, and Denise quickly looked back over her shoulder again at the girls. They too had heard, and Wendy had let out a choked gasp, burying her head in her hands.

"No," Denise said in a high-pitched, quivering voice. "No, he's - he's not dead. They had a deal."

"Marks said it was to teach Jax a lesson about standing in his way," Chibs said, shaking his head miserably. "Doesn't know about Jarry and me getting away but - but he said that Jax should know better. Said SAMCRO's been a thorn in his side for too long and that maybe now Jackie'll learn -"

"No," Denise repeated, fire in her voice and in her eyes. "That wasn't the deal, that wasn't the plan! This was supposed to be over -"

"Haven't you figured it out, sweetheart?" Chibs said, staring back at Denise. "People like them - like us - deals don't mean anythin'. Our word doesn't mean -"

"I don't care!" Denise said shrilly, rising to her feet. "I'm - I'm sick. I'm tired of living like this, of always wondering when we're gonna lose someone, or who's gonna kill someone, or who's gonna be next -"

"Well, look at who ye married, sweetheart," Chibs said, standing as well to his full height and towering over her. A part of him didn't want to be doing this, tobe talking to a young girl this way, but the anger and the grief in both of them had found an outlet, whether an appropriate one or not, and wouldn't be held back. "When you met Juicy, you knew he was desperate to get back to SAMCRO, to us - you knew this was the life he wanted and you stayed. You ran and then you came right back. This is your life, China Doll, and it's about time you stopped cryin' about it and lived it."

Denise sneered at Chibs, glaring as though he'd just physically struck her. There was a flash of anger in her just before the tears appeared at the corners of her eyes, and her movements were quick - she reached forward and shoved Chibs with both hands. He stumbled backwards, not so much because Denise was very strong but because he was caught off guard.

"I don't care," she repeated furiously, shaking her head so fervently that her hair became a tousled mess. "Don't talk to me about my husband - we're not gonna be stuck here like all of you," she sobbed. "We're gonna clean up what we need to clean up and we're gonna take Sofia and -"

"Take your baby and get out, aye?" Chibs hissed, leaning his face closer to Denise's. "Because you and Juicy made a promise? Because he said he could leave it behind and you'd start a new life all over? You think you're the first ones to say that was gonna happen? We've all said it - but if you're naive enough to believe it you'll end up disappointed or dead, like Tara -"

"Shut up!"

Denise had lunged forward to shove Chibs again, but this time, Lyla had hurried forward and grabbed her by both arms, shoving her back towards the other end of the patio so she could stand between her and Chibs. "Look at yourselves!" she said shrilly. "Bobby's dead and you think turning on each other is going to fix something? Well don't do that shit here because I don't need it. We don't need it."

Lyla, who had always been in Denise's corner, finally turned to the girl who had been a close friend for about two years now - but the look in the blonde woman's eyes was far from amiable. "You think you're the only person who's sick of this? You think you're the only one with fucking regrets? You're not - but not all of us have had lives where we could run away from this shit."

Sniffing away tears in disgust, Lyla strode over and picked up the phone on the ground, shoving it into Denise's hands. "Call them back," Lyla snapped, her face contorted in anger. "You're the smart one. You're good at this shit. So pull yourself the fuck together and do something - we can't just sit here."

And she stormed back inside, slamming the door behind her and leaving Chibs and Denise alone on the patio.

"I didn't mean any of tha', sweetheart," Chibs said, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose, unable to look at the woman now. "I shouldn't -"

"You meant it. You meant all of it," Denise said sadly. "You had every right to mean it. And you're right - maybe I just... I just need to accept that this is my life now."

Without allowing Chibs to get another word in, Denise descended down the porch steps and into the yard, breathing in deeply and hitting redial on the phone that Lyla had forced into her hand. It rang once. Twice. Denise was about convinced that she wasn't going to get an answer until she heard Juice's voice on the other end.

"Chibs?"

"No. It's - it's me," Denise stammered unsurely. The pain in her husband's voice, even if he had gotten his way, was evident, and Denise felt the crushing wave of grief intensify as she realized what state all of the guys had to be in at that point, wherever they were. "Where are you?"

"Out at the cabin," Juice replied succinctly, and Denise knew that was the last place where her husband needed to be. Her jaw clenched, and she pulled the phone away from her face briefly so Juice wouldn't hear the harsh sigh from her. She wasn't angry at him - she was just... angry. Juice, just a matter of hours ago, had been the strongest she had ever seen him. He knew what he was doing, and he took charge - but where was that Juice Ortiz now. "We're... we're just sayin' goodbye. Figured he'd wanna be close, so we're -"

His voice cracked, and Denise felt her breath hitch in her voice as well. "Should - should we come out there?"

"Nah," Juice said. "We'll be heading back. Just tryin' to do right by Bobby. Lay him to rest somewhere dignified, y'know? I gotta go -"

"Juice -"

"Be safe, alright?"

Be safe, alright?

After Juice hung up the phone, Denise felt a sense of dread wash over her - it wasn't see you soon or be safe until I get there. It was just be safe.

Denise knew the kind of person that her husband was. He may have been careless at times, but he chose his words with immense intention. Staring down at the phone in her hands for a few moments before heading back up the porch steps, she tapped a hand onto Chibs' back, stirring him as he had sat down in a chair and rested his head in his hands. He looked up at her, and Denise nodded for them to go inside. Wordlessly, he followed suit.

When they got back into the house, Denise walked over to the kitchen without greeting anyone else in the room and returned to the living room with a bottle of scotch and a stack of Solo cups. Chibs, immediately getting the gist, held out his hand to take the cups from her and line them up on the table so she could pour a small amount of liquor for all of them. Chibs picked up his cup first and gave a hard gulp.

"To Bobby Munson. A brave friend. A devoted brother. May your soul be in heaven an hour before the devil knows you're dead."

"To Bobby."

Denise clenched her eyes shut as she took a drink, relishing the slight burn of the liquor down her throat. It made her eyes sting slightly, and some of the tears she'd been holding back trickled over the edges of her eyelids before she managed to wipe them away.

"They should be back home soon. They're out at the cabin," Denise said quietly, looking down at the remaining scotch in the cup and swirling it gently. "Should we tell the kids about - about Bobby?"

"Let 'em sleep," Wendy said, rubbing tiredly at her face. "I don't think it's a good idea for them to be awake when the guys get here. Just in case."

A/N's

Please don't hate me! I think it goes without saying that this one was a tough one for me to write. There's going to be a lot of heavy stuff in the chapters to come, so I'm actually really relieved that I have my other story to work on, because it's surprisingly taxing, writing such some of these scenes and having to edit and reread and rewrite. So, there will probably be one or two updates in "Flown South" before the next chapter of this story, but I'll make sure it's no more than a week!

Until next time, cheers!