"Mayor Bollinger, please," Jax said as he strode into the Mayor's office with Wenya a few steps behind, closing the door behind him and holding a manila envelope in her hands. "Stay seated. We just need a few moments of your time -"

"That won't be necessary," Deacon Bollinger said, refusing to sit down and instead leaning across his desk. "If you and your friend don't leave, I'll call my security -"

"I gave them a tip. Sent them off to buy some donuts," Wenya said calmly, blinking in the Mayor's direction and staring at him, wondering if he would even recognize her. Few people ever did. It was simply the way of things in the business. It was smoke and mirrors and hormones. Her face wasn't what mattered. "You should really sit down. Make yourself comfortable, Mayor."

The phrase seemed, however, to spark something in his mind that her face had not been able to. His mouth pursed and he gulped, rapping his knuckles on his desk. "What do you want?"

"I just came to share our findings with you," Jax said with a deceptively casual expression, reaching towards Wenya to take the envelope from her hands and lay the contents out on the mayor's desk. Bollinger recoiled at the sight of the photos of him in one of the Triad clubs receiving services from Wenya. He reached out to take them, only to have Jax drag them across the table away from him. "These aren't the only copies, I wouldn't bother trying to destroy them -"

"What do you want?" Bollinger hissed. "You wanna blackmail me?"

"No, I want you to do the right thing," Jax said sternly. "Tell the people the truth about this shit you've been hiding or my friend Wenya here, the girl from the pictures, will do it for you."

Wenya smirked and gave a wave with her fingers. "Nice seein' you again, mister Mayor," she lilted, causing him to gulp like his collar was too tight.

"Why are you doing this?" Bollinger asked through gritted teeth. "If this is about Marks -"

"Of course it's fucking about August Marks," Jax said, slapping his palm down on the desk that stood between him and the mayor. "You think we haven't put two and two together, why he gets away with anything he wants around here? Fact of the matter is," Jax began before a slight pause, "Marks kept you in line with this little secret because he was the only one who had this intel. Now, that's not the case. You come clean, and we can finally take him down -"

"He's bringing business into the town -"

"He's bringing Chinese nightclubs with brothels in the attic and basements to store cocaine and assault rifles on the way down I-5," Jax sneered. "He'll bulldoze through Charming like it's nothin'."

"And you think I want to commit political suicide for some biker gang?" Bollinger asked. "You think I would make that sacrifice for you?"

"No. That's why Jax brought me. I came here to cut a deal with you. Best you're gonna get," Wenya said, walking up to the desk and standing next to Jax, leaning across. "I'll tell everyone that you helped me get outta that club, brought me to Charming. Helped me get a new life here. I'm safe here, makin' honest money. You're gonna take credit for that."

"Think about it," Jax said with a shrug. "Small-town mayor saves human trafficking victim, exposes Oakland crime lord - it might be the best thing that's ever happened to you. What else have you accomplished as mayor so far, Bollinger?"

The older man reached up to loosen his tie and give himself back the ability to breathe - his face seemed to have gone a deep shade of crimson in a matter of seconds.

"And what happens after?" Bollinger asked. "Marks is a fucking demon, Teller. You know that."

"I do. Better than anyone," Jax replied darkly. "And I'm going to drive those demons outta my home, once and for all. I know you're nailed onto your high horse, but I swear to you, this club exists to protect this town and the people in it -"

"You could've fooled me," Bollinger interrupted shortly. "But you have a deal. Let's talk business."

"The realtor probably thinks we're criminals," Denise chuckled as she sat with Sofia sleeping on her chest while Juice flipped through the pages of papers they'd had to sign. "Cash. I can't believe we just did that."

"Who cares?" Juice chuckled. "We got our house. In a week, you and me and Fifi are gonna be moved into a place of our own, with a pool and a yard. We'll teach 'er how to swim, have Easter Egg hunts - regular family stuff."

"Right," Denise said, her smile half-forced. She knew as well as Juice did that they were building this plane as they flew it - regular family stuff wasn't exactly their area of expertise. Juice had grown up with a single mother in Queens, shoplifting Dollar Store action figures and tinkering with spare old computer parts discarded by Mr. Freudenthal who ran the pawn shop downstairs. Denise grew up with an absent father who was immersed in his business and attempted to compensate by taking his children on lavish vacations every year? What did either of them know about a regular family? That was why SAMCRO had so easily pulled them in, had so easily kept a hold on them for so long. They were both looking, both wondering what that sense of normalcy and family looked like.

Denise glanced at the places on Juice's skin where his ink peeked out, already looking considerably lighter. The Reaper tattoos were fading, just as it felt like the toxic infused into them by SAMCRO was as well. A contented grin spread over her features as she rubbed her hand over Sofia's back. For now, they were still in a hotel room - a new hotel in a new city, a new state. But in a matter of days, it would be over. All of the unsureness and the movement that had all started back in Stockton was finally going to be over.

"Do you think they're looking for us?" Juice asked suddenly, gently resting the packet of papers on his abdomen and looking up at the ceiling. "I mean, do you think -"

"I don't know," Denise admitted with a shrug. "When we first left, I was sure they would be. I was looking in the rearview mirror half expecting to see them rolling up behind us. But..."

"But what?" Juice asked, turning his face to look at her when her voice trailed off and she didn't continue. Denise gave a sad laugh and shook her head. The slight movement caused the baby sleeping on her chest to yawn and wriggle around slightly before settling back into her slumber.

"I realized that being useful to someone and mattering to them are very, very different things," Denise finally managed to finish. "And I figured out that maybe we never really mattered to Jax - to any of them - as much as we thought we did."

The words took a few moments to settle after Juice heard them. One on level, it was heartbreaking because to him, the club had always mattered. Each and every one of them had mattered to him so much that it was painful. But at the same time, it was a weight off of his shoulders because it meant he was free to choose who mattered in his life again - and for the first time, he knew he was ready for his family, his real family, to matter more than anything.

"What about everyone else?" Juice asked. Denise didn't need him to expand any more to know what he meant.

"When it comes to Charles and Marks, I don't know anymore," Denise shrugged. "I thought I knew Charles. He's my brother - but nowadays, I don't know how much that means. I don't know what to expect from him anymore."

Juice scooted over slightly and slipped his arm around Denise so that she could rest against his shoulder, though she carefully avoided the tender, sore spots. Her breathing, which over the course of the past minute or so had grown faster because just the thought of what came after this initial euphoria was terrifying, calmed considerably now that she was nestled close to him, and Juice felt his heart swell. This was what he wanted, to be there for his family, to be the one they trusted to keep him safe.

Neither of them knew anything about living in this new place, completely on their own. Neither of them knew if this was going to work the way they hoped. All they were reasonably sure of was that for the first time, their lives were about them. Their choices were theirs now.

Chibs was relieved to know that none of SAMCRO's sister charters were out on Juice and Denise's tail, wherever they had gone. They couldn't be, because their major leadership was all here in this old truck stop out in Galt, save for Jax Teller.

Despite his past actions, Chibs felt great misgiving in Tig's insistence that they should call a summit of their sister charters without their club president - but all of SAMCRO knew that Jax had been out of control, had been making all of the wrong decisions and placing himself as much as all of them at risk. This wasn't a betrayal, Tig insisted. It was an intervention.

"Highly unorthodox," Jury said as he reached out to give Chibs a one-armed hug. The other presidents hung back, save for the brief, compulsory greetings. Clearly, Jury spoke for them all in his appraisal of the circumstances of the meet. It was a relief, Chibs decided, that Jury had stepped up to speak for them, because it was easier to explain to one man than to a crowd. "Meeting with us without your prez."

"Aye," Chibs said with an incline of his head. "But we're in a highly unorthodox pile of shit."

"SAMBEL's proxy got held up. Customs," Quinn called out as he hung up his prepaid and shoved it back in his pocket. "Should be on their way."

"Fuckin' Irish," Tig chuckled, reaching out and clapping a hand on Chibs' shoulder. "Who'd they send to stand in?"

"We'll see," Quinn shrugged. "Just got the call from Seamus that the rep he sent over was gonna be late, traveled heavy."

"Just as well," Tig said, crossing his arms over himself. "Hap - this is you."

Happy Lowman stepped forward with a slight sneer marring his usually blank expression. Bobby had been VP, and he'd been Sergeant-at-Arms. In Jax's absence, it fell on him to facilitate this, which was far from the role he wanted to have in club business. He'd been inclined to skip this meet altogether, if not for the fact that Jax had commandeered his ol' lady for another one of his convoluted schemes. So, Happy had the motivation he needed. He'd step up, of course, to protect what was his.

"Our condolences about Bobby," Jury said with an incline of his head. "He was a good man."

A flash of guilt crossed Chibs's face at the mention of Bobby's death. Chibs knew it should have been him they were giving condolences for - that was how the club had voted, and though Denise and Wendy had voted to save Bobby, Fate had cast the deciding vote instead.

"That's why we're here," Happy spoke up, his face hardened into a scowl. "Jax stepped outta line."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jury asked. "I thought it was Marks -"

"Marks pulled the trigger," Chibs spoke up, his voice more gruff and contrained than usual. "But Marks took two hostages that night. Me and Chibs. Had the club decided who to save."

"So they wanted to save you?" Jury asked. "Highly suspicious, considering you're the one whose loyalty I'd most question. Wasn't too long ago, you were a defector -"

"Club didn't vote to save anyone," Tig said. "It was split. Right down the middle - Hap refused."

A silence fell over them as the ominous implication of how the problem had resolved itself started to come into clearer focus. Tig rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck before continuing. "He left the vote to the ol' ladies. His and Juice's."

"Jesus Christ," Jury said breathily, shaking his head.

"We don't want any harm to fall on our prez," Tig continued, holding his hand up placatingly. "We don't even want him to know this meet happened. But we need to know that we can count on backup from our sister charters because I know - we know that the guy's flyin' off the rails. He's determined to get to Marks and we know that it's only a matter of time before everythin' goes to shit."

"Jackie boy's too proud to ask the other charters for their help. He'd never do it," Chibs said. "That's why we're here."

"So what's this? A call to arms?" Jury asked, raising his eyebrows and glancing back at the others, who nodded in agreement. "I know SAMCRO's our mother charter, but we ain't your personal army -"

"This is us asking our brothers to help us," Tig said darkly. "Because if you don't have our backs, we're all as good as dead. People like Pope and Marks don't stop after mowin' through one town, takin' down one victim. It's all our necks that Jax is puttin' on the line. So can we count on you?" Tig asked. There was a brief, pensive silence, and Tig's voice grew louder. "I said, can we count on you?"

"SAMTAZ is in."

"SAMTAC is in."

"Dino too."

Jury, however, swiped his hand over his mouth for a moment, his eyes glazed with a troubled expression. He knew Jax like he knew JT. He knew that they were men of principle always, of pragmatism rarely. He knew that this had to be true. JT had been a friend, and the loyalty owed to a friend included telling his progeny the hard truths when they spun out of control.

"Indian Hills is in."

"SAMBEL will send their support, to be sure."

They turned around at the sound of a voice coming from a car that had just pulled up in the truck stop - a thick Irish brogue. A female. Chibs was the first to react when he saw Fiona standing in front of the old brown Mercedes Benz, and Kerrianne clambering out of the passenger seat. Immediately, she ran over and embraced Chibs, who welcomed her with open arms.

"I missed you, Da," she said tearfully, clinging to him as though he were some sort of illusion.

"Little hypocritical, don't you think," Jury chuckled. "Sending over an ol' lady to judge a club president forcing two ol' ladies to vote?"

"I don't function in that capacity," Fiona said with an irk of her eyebrow first. But then, her gaze flicked over to Chibs and their eyes finally met. "Not for SAMBEL, anyway."

"I think this meetin's adjourned," Happy pointed out with a smirk. "Chibs, get the fuck outta here and be with your family."

"Aye," Chibs said with an expression of disbelief tugging at his features. "That's exactly what I'm goin' to do."

A/N's

And with that, you're going to have to wait until next chapter to see old Chibbie finally get some time in with his girls. There are a few other events that I intended to write when I outlined this story, but I'm flip-flopping a bit as to whether or not to include them.

I received a complaint about the "head-hopping", and I apologize if it's distracting. There are some events that really are just like small Lego blocks that need to be put into place to hold the rest of the story up. Thanks everyone for all of your feedback, and for sticking around to review! I've gotten a new big wave of story follows and favorites, so the pressure is on a little bit to get updates in, but as always, I do the best I can with the time I've got! Work has been crazy, a lot of things going on and a lot of hard cases coming in that, in combination with trying to write, is very emotionally draining. Until next update, cheers!