LAST TIME...

Then, as the risen Niner's arm jolted at the sound of the firing gun burst out over the din, another figure burst onto the scene, throwing themselves in front of Jax just as the shot was fired.

The events of the moment rushed back into real time as they realized that it was Gemma who had taken the bullet for Jax – she locked eyes with him for a moment and fell to the ground, blood blossoming from the entry wound in her back.

"Jax..."

Denise froze while Jax rushed forward to kneel next to where Gemma had fallen - she had come out nowhere, and even the Niner who had fired the fateful shot to her chest seemed stunned. Denise took the opportunity to fire a clean shot to the side of his head and saw him fall as well. The din seemed to freeze momentarily, and the handful of others in the vicinity rushed over, picking off the stunned assailants so at least for this brief respite, the fighting came to a pause and they clustered around where Jax knelt, cradling Gemma and pressing his hand to her chest as though it could stop the rushing of blood from the wound that entered her back.

They fought back the remaining Niners, some of whom now retreated - even now, Gemma Teller elicited some level of reverence, and now, there was fear. Fear of blowback, of retribution, was enough to drive many of the remaining Niners away. The rest were now outnumbered. The Mayans fighting alongside them, headed by Alvarez, had run low on ammunition and were fighting back with concealed butterfly knives, drawing more blood in close combat even than they had when exchanging fire. This fight, they new, was practically over. Now, the allies could form a protective cluster around Jax as the inevitable end approached.

"Mom..."

"Jax," Gemma said with a weak smile, a gurgle in her throat behind the workd. She gave a meek cough, and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, the sight of which elicited an anguished noise from Jax. This meant it was too late. Even if someone could manage to call for help, it wouldn't come - not for them. The town of Charming left them to conduct their business and bury their dead, and Jax knew this better than anyone. No one was going to come to their aid in time. His quivering hand went weak before reaching up to brush her hair out of her face.

"Don't you die, mom," he said, sounding so painfully vulnerable. "Mom, don't you dare die."

Denise willed herself not to cry as well - not now. This wasn't her tragedy. But even after everything that had happened, everything Gemma had done, Denise still held the woman strangely in a very dear, very deep place in her heart. And she knew that Jax felt the same. This was still the woman who had raised him, who had made him strong.

It was only now, at the very end, that he would come to realize it. He'd hated her, he'd wanted her to pay for what she had done... but not like this.

There was a sound in the distance of sirens - police cars. They were coming, but wouldn't get here soon enough to make a difference. They would only get here to clean up the mess. Events were simply going to run their course on their own as they always did. It would take them a good few minutes to arrive, and by then, it would be over.

For Jax, it felt painfully familiar, and yet completely strange. He cradled his mother the way he had last cradled his dead wife, but Gemma still had life in her - so very little, but life nonetheless. His hand groped futilely, as though trying to find a way to stem the bleeding, to buy seconds. So much life was lost now because of him. So much was ruined. He had laid waste to so many of the things that had come to Charming, to his family. He had failed them all.

"My baby boy," Gemma said with a weak smile, coughing again and reaching with great effort to grab a hold of her son's hand as he shook his head. "It's time..."

Denise drew a shuddering breath when she saw Gemma's hand go limp. And she knew - Jax almost would rather not have had this closure, would rather have not had his mother try to make peace. Jackson Teller did not know what to do with peace. He gritted his teeth and restrained a sob, making a noise so piteous that Denise very nearly broke her resolve not to intervene and started over towards him until she felt herself yanked backwards, an arm locking itself around her neck, the barrel of a gun put to her head. In an instant, the noise erupted again, and the guns were turned toward Denise, who looked too shocked to even try and surmise who this unseen assailant was. But she saw the look on Juice's face - the rage and anguish, like that of a caged animal - and she knew.

Marks.

"Don't shoot, or she dies," August snarled, forcibly dragging her backward, back towards the car that he had pulled up in, rendered practically invisible by the distraction of Gemma's death. "Don't shoot -"

"Give it up, August," Jax said, rising to his feet and pointing the gun in the man's direction. Juice's jaw clenched - would Jax risk it? Risk shooting Denise to get to Marks in his rage? There was a moment that Juice felt a genuine sense of foreboding that Jax would let his desire for revenge overshadow the promise he'd made that Denise would be able to walk away. For a moment, Juice felt the pull to point his own gun at Jax for insurance. August Marks, however, laughed. The noise, harsh and almost metallic, resonated in Denise's ear. "We've pushed back your thugs, you're done - you can't have Charming -"

"I don't want your fucking town. You can keep your little hick town. Charming is dead to me," Marks sneered, making a jerky movement that jabbed the barrel of the gun hard into the side of Denise's head and caused her to yelp in pain. "This war is over - you have nothing I want," he spat. "But this one? She has everything I need to start over, and I'm gonna take it, Jackson."

"Let her go -"

"You shut your fucking mouth," Marks said, his wild gaze turning in Juice's direction, the barrel of the gun jabbing into Denise's side. He could kill her - even if she fought hard and fast, he could wipe her off the face of the earth in a moment, with a flinch or a reflex. "I let you borrow her for a while and let you have that little girl of yours as a souvenir - you had your fun. Now I'm taking back what I need. Kwan!"

The scene seemed frozen in place - they were powerless to do anything now with Denise in this position. Jax had come, thinking he was prepared to sacrifice anyone, everyone for this revenge - but to lose one more person was so wasteful, so needless. Juice stood, petrified as Charles Kwan stepped out of the car, brandishing a gun as well, taking hold of Denise who stared in anger with nothing else that could be done. If she went, they would leave. If she went, it would buy the boys time, at the very least...

"It was good knowing you, boys," Marks sneered, spitting on the ground between them - both men, with guns still brandished, loaded Denise into the car, with Charles cuffing her hands and shoving her into the back seat while August drove.

Juice threw his pistol to the ground and dropped to his knees as the car's engine roared to life and the car sped off, but he was immediately yanked by the back of his collar, back to his feet.

"We're goin' after her. We're gettin' our girl," Jax said with a cold sneer, dragging Juice forward while the others followed suit. "I've failed enough people today. I'm not failin' one more."

"The three of us are going to disappear - you're going to liquidate every dime you're worth, and we're heading back east," Marks snarled as he hit hard on the gas pedal, sending the sedan thundering down the road.

"What makes you think I'm going to help you?" Denise hissed, narrowing her eyes and writhing with her hands cuffed behind her back. "You'll have to kill me -"

"And then we'll have to kill your daughter," Marks said casually. "Because otherwise, there's no way to get what we need, is there? I've won, Meimei. You can either accept it or -"

"You bastard!" Denise wailed, thrashing against the seatbelt and cuffs as though it would allow her to get at Marks, who was driving the car - they had veered off onto an isolated road by the slough, and Marks, after Denise had kicked the back of his chair, inadvertently jolted so they came dangerously close, kissing the edge of the road and overlooking the rocks and water below before he threw the wheel back into proper alignment.

Like a lapdog, Charles' arm jolted out, pinning her back against the seat. "Stay still, or we'll make the call and they're all dead," Charles roared at her loudly, so loud and so close to her that it nearly made her ears ring. She flinched, feeling for a moment a flicker of the old fear and deference to her older brother, until her sharp hearing picked up a slight sound, a quiet click. Her gaze met her brother's when she realized that when he had reached his arm across her body, he had also unlocked the car door without Marks knowing. She glanced at him questioningly, but he gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. There was again another look in his eye that Denise recognized - one of protectiveness. This was the Charles that Denise wished she remembered more of. Just then, the roar of engines grew in volume behind them, and with a glance backward, all of the occupants of the car saw the legion of bikes crawling up the road behind them.

"Kwan!" Marks roared, handing his pistol back over his shoulder to Charles so that he now had control of both. "Take them out - we can't have them following -"

Marks' statement was punctuated by the sound of the side mirror on the driver's side being shot clean off. He began swerving, and barked again back at Charles. "Get her down, we need her!"

Charles complied, pushing Denise down away from the windows - but as he did, he leaned over, he also managed to linger close to her ear. "Forgive me, Mei..." he muttered in a coarse whisper.

"Shoot them, Kwan!"

The engine roared, the car moved faster along the sharp turns and Denise could just barely see that they were coming up on an impending curve that banked into a sudden ledge and opened up to the rocky waters of the slough. As they neared the curve, there was the telltale click, and Denise saw Charles raise the gun from the corner of her eye, but rather than shooting out the window, he quickly pointed it forward and fired a shot into the back of Marks' head, then shoved open the door he had unlocked, pushing Denise out while the car hurtled forward - over the edge of the road and into the rocky waters - though it fell out of sight, the loud crash foretold the outcome.

Denise rolled over the muddy grass, stopping on her side with her face scratched and pressed hard to the ground while the bikes pulled to a stop next to her - Juice was the first to reach her, pulling her up and looking over her scratched face and bloodied lip from the impact, the cuts and sloughed skin down her arms and shoulders. But she was alive. She was okay. He hadn't lost her, and just that realization was enough to make his hands shake.

"Charles," she said, shaking her head and writhing, her hands still cuffed behind her. "He - he killed August, he saved me -"

"It's over, baby," he said carefully, attempting to hold her still while fearing that she'd been hurt worse than she was letting on - but a brief appraisal confirmed that somehow, despite the tumble she had taken, she was relatively fine. "Charles and Marks, they're both... they're..."

He didn't need to say what they were - Denise knew. She buried her face tearfully against Juice's chest and shook her head while he attempted to calm her, to keep her from wrenching a shoulder out of its socket from moving. Charles, in his last moments, had been sorry. He'd cared in a strange way, just like he'd said that night in the hospital room. He'd proven it.

"Mano," Alvarez said, and they turned to glance at him. "Niners are pushed back on both fronts," he said, brandishing the burner phone in his hands and clicking it shut. They'd barely even noticed he'd received a call. "Fight's done, Teller. We're finished here."

"It's done," Jax confirmed. He exhaled through slightly pursed lips then turned back to look Denise. He approached, kneeling next to her as well but keeping back a fair amount - it was finally clear to him. He didn't hold the cards in every hand. There were things too sacred for him to touch - things like family. Things like what Juice and Denise were to one another, and what Tara had once been to him. "Come on. Let's get her outta here."

There was a silent agreement that flowed through their crew - they had dead to bury, and then, they had choices to be made.

A/N's

And now, we only have one chapter left that may or may not set the stage for a third installment. But, before we get ahead of ourselves, let's say focused on the moment. This chapter went a little quickly, but I hope it was still enjoyable. I will likely update one of my other stories before posting the final chapter of this one, but only time will tell. Until next update, cheers!