A/N: Thanks to everyone who pointed out I posted this before the last chapter. I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached.

October 2008

He was gone when she'd gotten up early for work the next morning, fighting through her hangover and schlepping it to work. Sara had successfully ignored his attempts to call for the two days left in the work week and he hadn't been staying at her apartment. She didn't know where he had been—she assumed the clubhouse but he could have gone back to Tacoma for all she knew. When his attempts to call had stopped, brief jealously filled her when she wondered if he was out fucking sweetbutts. A small, spiteful part of her hoped he did, just so she had another reason to keep her silent treatment going. Self-admittedly, she wasn't good at holding grudges for extended periods of time and knew her magnetic love for the man would eventually draw her back in.

As part of her attempt to maintain her resolve, she intentionally avoided the guys, refusing to take calls from any of them—including Juice. They'd all lied to her and were all complicit in her mind. Friday evening, sick of being in Charming where you couldn't leave your house without running into a member or friend of SAMCRO, she'd gone down to Reno to visit her brother who was still in a coma but whose injuries were mostly healed. Her phone had blown up within the few minutes of being the in hospital, and she had glared at the Reno Sons in the hallway. They'd all shifted under her scorching looks and avoided eye contact for the rest of her two-day visit, but it was obvious one of them had informed Happy that she'd crossed state-lines.

Her mother hadn't asked what was wrong, but Sara had caved in the hotel and told her, curling up and crying into her mother's lap like a child. With her soothing tones, her mother had simply patted her hair until her daughter was all cried out. She didn't have any wisdom to share. She'd known just as much as any of them what Skip's fate was going to be once she'd heard that he'd flipped. Her heart ached for her daughter's pain, and understood it, but she wasn't going to shed tears for her dead ex-husband.

Finally feeling purged of her rage, and mostly because she was out of paid-time and couldn't miss any more work, she'd returned to Charming Sunday night. The only person other person she'd spoken to was Donna, who was busy with her own issues. She'd decided to take the kids to her mother's, needing out of Charming as well. Opie was sinking back into his old habits with the club, and Donna just couldn't sit there and watch it happen. The women had commiserated over the phone while Sara drove back to Charming, but she hadn't been able to share much beyond the fact the FBI was saying her father was dead. Still, the truth hung in the silence between them, and she knew Donna could figure it out.

By Wednesday, she walked out of her cubicle and her mood darkened at the vision before her. Apparently, they were resorting to low blows.

"Gemma." She greeted evenly as she walked past. The matriarch fell into step beside her. "How'd you even get up here?" Sara asked with piqued interest. The addiction offices were well staffed with security for the occasional violent outbursts exhibited by the addicts who frequented the facility. They certainly didn't let people passed the front desk without an escort.

"Told 'em you were my sponsor and how I'm barely able to keep myself from to shooting H into my veins." Gemma responded with a smirk and no small amount of pride at her own lie. Sara rolled her eyes.

"Real nice, Gem." She grumbled. Vindictively, she hoped the rumor mill went wild with the story that the biker queen was now a heroin addict. Immediately, she felt guilt. Gemma had never been anything but kind to her. "I have a meeting. So, you need to leave." Sara stated bluntly, stopping and turning to face the older brunette who was trailing her

"Family dinner tonight." Gemma reminded. Once a month, Gemma had everyone over for a big home-cooked meal. It was usually the highlight of Sara's month; she loved the feeling of inclusivity and warmth having everyone together like that. It made her feel like she belonged and gave her purpose. She'd even let herself envision someday hosting them with Happy. Now though, in the midst of her silent treatment, the thought filled her with dread. Gemma continued, "You have a seat saved next to Happy."

"No Gem—"

"Stop it. Stop acting like you didn't know this was going to happen eventually. Now, I know you are hurting your own special kind of pain right now. Ain't nobody gonna deny you that. But you are a strong woman and you damn well better grieve like a strong woman." Gemma urged quietly. Sara glared at her.

"Its not even about that; I'm sick of the club lying to me. Of Happy lying to me about everything all the time."

"Well then hash that shit out with him or leave. Pick one."

"Gemma, I'm not coming tonight. I need more time. Tell everyone I'm sick or something." Sara stated with a scoff, her internal conscience mumbling something about pot calling kettle when it came to lying. Gemma grabbed her arm tightly.

"Hey, you gotta get your head on straight. If the club thinks you're losin' it, they'll find a way to shut you up." She warned quietly, her brow furrowed in worry. Gemma's sobering tone had the intended effect as Sara's own brow furrowed.

"I'm not gonna say anything, Gemma, you know I would never…"

"I know that. Now you just gotta make sure they know that."

"I don't think dinner is going to change anything…"

"You gotta handle your shit. I know you love him. We both know you'll let him back eventually; I'm just not sure he knows that. The man can't focus with you mad at him, and he's gonna get himself killed one of these days." Sara ruffled under Gemma's slight threat to Happy's safety, as if a threat to her own hadn't been enough.

"I don't want to see him."

"Bull shit. Find your balls and come to dinner. It's for family, and you're family." Gemma stated emphatically. With a huff, Sara walked away leaving Gemma standing smugly in the hall.

Sara's mood hadn't improved much as she forced herself to walk into Gemma and Clay's house later that night. Childishly, she glared at the line of Harley's out front, knowing she wouldn't be able to get away with that kind of behavior once inside. She spotted Happy's bike and she fought the urge to kick it over out of spite. If she wasn't afraid it would knock over someone else's, she would have more seriously considered it. Apparently, she wasn't as fully purged of her rage as she thought. Rather than act on it, her stomach clenched nervously. Gemma's words had hit her heard; she didn't want him getting hurt because he was distracted. She was pissed but she didn't want him dead.

With a deep breath, she opened the door and walked into the Teller-Morrow home. Immediately, she heard the loud bellows of the gruff men laughing in the living room and could see a few of them through the back window out on the patio as well. As she passed through the living room, the men grew quiet as their eyes fell on her. Subtle, boys. She gave them a half-smile that felt more like a grimace before heading into the kitchen. She ignored Juice's voice calling her name. She had come to dinner. Didn't mean she had to talk to anyone.

"Sara! I didn't think you were coming." Luann stated with a gentle surprise. Sara had always liked Luann despite her all her flaws. The woman was managing her man locked up long-term better than she could've; not only was she managing, she was thriving and somehow managed to remain loyal to her man, or if she wasn't, she kept her discretions on the downlow. Sara didn't really remember Big Otto, but she did remember Luann from when she would visit when she was younger. If Gemma had been her surrogate mother, Luann had been her surrogate aunt. The kind of slutty aunt that bought their teenage 'niece' vibrators and taught her how to put a condom on in a sexy way. Having worked in the sex industry herself, she respected the company Luann had built for herself. Sara managed a genuine smile for Luann. Not everyone was meant for this life, but Luann was.

"Gemma told me I had to, so..." Sara stated responded with grouchy shrug. Luann nodded in understanding and handed the younger blonde a salad bowl.

"What the Queen wants, she gets." Luann whispered conspiratorially as the girls carried food out the table where Gemma had gathered the men. Sara eyed the table moodily and considered sitting between Bobby and Tig just to make a point. But, since she was here to reassure the men that she wasn't losing her head, she took the appropriate empty seat next to Happy without a word. She could be the perfect little girl they expected, she'd done it for years growing up. She felt his cobalt eyes scan her quickly trying to read her mood as she tried to watch him from her peripherals without giving him the satisfaction of knowing she was watching him. His hand tried to move to her knee, but she crossed her legs away from him. As his lonely hand made itself busy fiddling with cutlery, she noticed redness of irritation on his knuckles.

"I'm surprised you're here." She heard him rasp, barely audible.

"Gemma asked." She whispered flatly and took the bowl of potatoes from Chibs, who was on her other side. She heaped food onto her plate and ate in silence, mostly pushing it around with her fork because she was too wound up to eat. Conversation flowed comfortably between the rest of the guests and they let her sulk, unsure of how to interact with her in this state.

"Any news on your brother?" Gemma finally asked, forcing Sara to look up from her food. All eyes were on her.

"Uhh, no. Doctors are optimistic he will wake up any day now though." She informed awkwardly.

"Well that's good news then, aye?" Chibs stated, nudged her with his shoulder and giving her a smile. She forced a return smile and looked back at her food, making it clear she was done with the conversation. She felt Gemma's glare on her from down the table, but she just couldn't bring herself to make small talk. They'd all kept her father's assassination a secret; she'd come to terms with his death and realized that the reason she was so upset was the betrayal. None of them had told her anything, and, worse, Happy had used her to track her father down. If he'd just outright asked her, she would've helped him. She would always help any of them but, once again, it seemed that they felt they couldn't trust her. They would never trust her.

After dinner, she escaped to the kitchen where she began working on dishes with Luann while the others socialized in the living room.

"Sare." She sighed quietly to herself as his raspy voice reached out from behind her. She'd never been wary of the gravelly sound of her name before. She turned around and her pained light eyes met his dark ones. Luann looked between them for a moment before politely excusing herself to bring the guys beers.

"Sara." He repeated, moving closer and tentatively reaching for her; she didn't move but her face stayed stony. Well, that was better than pushing him away. He closed the space between them and placed his hands on the counter on either side of her. Up close, he could see the remainder of the bruising around her neck and in her cheekbone that she'd tried to stealthily cover with make-up. He felt like shit, seeing the residue of his anger on her beautiful skin.

"Baby." He whispered quietly a foreign tone of sorrow evident in voice. His eyes searched her face for some reaction; some inkling that would betray her feelings. She folded her arms across her chest and looked blankly to the side, avoiding his eyes. "Baby, please." He urged not even sure what he wanted from her, but he was positive that anything would be better than this unresponsiveness. Anger he could handle; hysterics he could handle; lashing out he could handle, but this… this he didn't know what to do with. He knew she wouldn't make a scene though. She was raised better than that.

"My dad's dead." She stated flatly, unsure of where to even start. He opened his mouth and she shook her head to silence him. "My dad is dead and there isn't even going to be a funeral. It's like it never even happened. Like he didn't even exist." She said quietly. She hadn't wanted to get into any of this here, tonight.

"He doesn't deserve one." He responded roughly, annoyed. Her brother had been fine with it, even gave his blessing long before his accident. She scoffed and pushed at his chest trying to get past him.

"You don't get it." She stated angrily. He caged her in and desperately tried to get her to meet his eyes again.

"Explain it to me." He demanded hoping for some clarity, kicking himself for his visceral reaction. "Please."

"He's my dad. He raised me. He taught me how to read. And helped me with my homework. And taught me how to ride a bike. And how to fish. And he was there when my mom left… and…" She struggled to form coherent thoughts as emotions swelled in her throat.

"And he hit you. Humiliated you. Got your entire family life sentences." Happy finished.

"You hit me. Choked me even." She countered and Happy recoiled. Her words weren't even malicious; they were just the facts, and that somehow hurt more. He realized that she wasn't even mad about that part; he, in turn, had spent days furious with himself for losing control on her.

"That's not fair. That's different." He argued weakly.

"Yeah? How so?" She challenged.

"I could never leave you! I'd kill for you. I mean, fuck, I'd die for you, Sara. How can you not see that?" He urged, seeing her eyes flick down to the tattoo around his collarbone, echoing the same sentiment. He felt sick as he laid himself out before her, her eyes meeting his finally. He capitalized on her quiet expression and leaned in to kiss her gently all the while bracing for a slap that didn't come. When he pulled back, she looked confused and hurt.

"How could you just continually lie to me then?" She asked quietly, looking up at him for an explanation she knew he wouldn't have. "I don't want you to die for me, I just want you to tell me the truth when it affects me," Sure enough, he stared back at her hopelessly, grief on written on his face. "You can't even take a weekend off to celebrate my birthday without somehow making it about the club. Over, and over, and over again you lie to me and I never see it coming. I thought I could trust you… but I can't. I don't trust you."

"Sara…" He started, but he didn't know where to go with it and his words trailed off.

"I'm sorry; I-I can't do this right now." She stated, willing the tears in her eyes down as she moved past him quickly and made a beeline for the bathroom in the hall. She stared into the mirror and took a few deep breaths before there was a quiet knock at the door. She blew out a breath and opened it, seeing Juice standing there with his big brown puppy-dog eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off.

"Don't." She stated, raising her hand. "I'm here because Gemma asked me to come, and I need to prove I'm not losing my cool. In order to do that, I can't listen to your excuses or apologies right now." He nodded sadly and moved to let her pass. She made her way back into the kitchen, grabbing some of the empty bottles from the coffee table as she cut through the living room. A glance towards the back window showed Happy on the back patio, smoking with Tig. Tig was leaning close as he spoke, his hand on Happy's shoulder. She saw him nodding in acknowledgement to whatever Hap was saying, but of course she couldn't hear the words.

Tossing the empties in the trash, she resumed her position by Luann at the sink.

"You know, I know he loves you." Luann stated softly, handing her a dish to dry.

"Well maybe he shouldn't have used my birthday as an excuse to do recon and not told me," she countered defensively but accepted the dish, "or killed my dad and not told me, or gone to see my ex-fiancé behind my back and not told me."

"That's true," Luann nodded.

"He was a lying dick before we dated and he's a lying dick now. The only thing that's changed is that I've gotten sick of it," Sara stated flippantly, knowing that her words weren't a reflection of the feelings in her heart.

"It could be worse."

"Could it?"

"He could get shot and die, and all he'd think is that you hate him," Luann pointed out.

"Don't try to guilt me into forgiveness," Sara sighed, drying another dish. "I just need time."

"Well, don't take too much time. You don't realize how much you are affecting him."

"And you do?" She scoffed. The porn star was never even around the clubhouse anymore.

"You think you're the first woman a Son has lied to?" Luann responded haughtily. "Sorry, honey but you aren't that special."

"Then, tell me how to get over it."

"It's not about getting over it. Sometimes, they make the wrong decisions and sometimes it's for the right reasons. They're only men after all. He just needs to know you still love him, and then you can take all the time you need," Luanna stated wisely before nudging Sara out of the kitchen.

Sara nervously walked out onto the back patio and smiled nervously as both Tig and Happy looked up at her.

"Can we have a moment, Tig?" She asked quietly. The curly-haired man nodded and put out his cigarette. He gingerly dropped a kiss to her cheek as he passed, and she waited until she heard the click of the door to signal they were alone. He was watching her, his dark eyes guarded but hopeful. She spared a glance at the window into the house and saw all the guys look away casually, suddenly interested in things around them. With an eye roll she motioned for Happy to walk with her to the corner of the yard. It was hardly private but at least they wouldn't be heard or on display like zoo animals.

She watched observantly as he wrung his hands tightly, before rubbing them on his jeans. She gently reached for one of his hands, taking it in her own smaller ones. She flipped it over and looked at it closely, seeing the tell-tale signs of his OCD. The skin was dried and angry pink, raw in some areas; the skin of his knuckles cracked. With a sigh, she dropped his hand and looked up at him. She could see him chewing the inside of his cheek anxiously as he watched her in silence.

"I don't know what to say." She finally admitted. He nodded in understanding.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, the words feeling strange in his mouth. "About… all of it, I guess." He shook his head at his own stupid words, before pulling his cigarette pack out. He offered her one and she accepted, needing something to take the edge off and something to keep her hands busy. They both smoked for a moment, gathering their thoughts and waiting for the other to say something. She was so lost in thought that she jumped when she felt his fingers sweep gently across the marks on her neck. She recoiled, feeling his fingers on her throat again and he pulled his hand away suddenly, a pained look on his face.

"Fuck, Sara. I never wanted you to look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're afraid of me," He admitted, rubbing his hand over his head in frustration.

"I'm not," she stated with a shrug before adding, "You just surprised me." He snorted and looked away, clearly not believing her words.

"I still love you…" She started, and his gaze returned to her quickly. She held up her hand before he could respond. "I'm upset. And hurt. I feel so incredibly betrayed by you. I know you think you meant well and that you were just following orders when you didn't say anything; but to use my birthday like that… You didn't have to do that. No one ordered you to do that. That really, really hurts. And just knowing you lied about that, kept my dad a secret, and the shit with Ryan…" She paused, taking a long drag from the cigarette and letting the burn fill her lungs as she assembled more words. "I feel like I try really hard to make this work. I feel like I make sacrifices, and I agreed to move to a city I hate, and I bite my tongue about late nights and long runs, and I look the other way, and I was happy to do it. Because at least I thought we were in this together. I thought we'd gotten past you bullshitting me and the stupid fucking gag orders against me, and just finding out how nothing has changed and you've all lied to me and used me… It just really makes me second guess everything."

"Fuck. It ain't like that." He shook his head. "I just didn't want you to get spun out. I wanted to keep you safe from all this shit; I didn't think about shit from your angle." He responded vaguely, squinting as he smoked his own cigarette.

"What do you mean?"

"Like the dad shit. Girls and their dads, or whatever." He gestured in the air as if that would clarify anything and her brow furrowed.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Like, I didn't think about the fact that you had good memories and shit. And that like, I dunno you maybe envisioned him walking you down the aisle someday or something… and shit like that." He blundered, feeling like an asshole.

"Who told you that?" She asked slowly, knowing he couldn't have come up with that on his own. They'd never talked about weddings; he always blanched at the mention of the entire marriage institution.

"Your ma called." He answered honestly. "Gave me a fuckin' come-to-Jesus talk about fuckin' you over." Sara rolled her eyes; of course her mother had called him. After her meltdown in Reno, it made sense.

"Look, I just need time to think," Sara sighed, "I'm just processing a lot right now. I need to figure out what I want, and what I can handle, and how everything fits into that."

"I get it," he nodded in understanding, but he looked unsure. He held out his hand as if to reach for her but seemed to second guess it and his arm dropped to his side clearly distracted by his thoughts.

"What?"

"Your ex," he sighed, not even wanting to broach the subject.

"What about him?" She asked, eyes narrowing defensively.

"He said that if you ever wanted out of the life that I gotta let you go. Made me swear on it and shit," he stated watching her closely, "so I guess I gotta ask… You want out?" She saw the fear in his eyes, the obvious panic growing with each passing second.

"No…" She answered, leaving I don't think so on the tip of her tongue. Instead, her small arms snaked under his, wrapping around his broad chest and burying her face in his chest. He breathed out loudly and wrapped his arms around her.

"I love you." He whispered into her hair. She nodded into his chest, breathing in his familiar scent of Old Spice and leather and smoke. God, she had missed him.

"Where have you been staying?" Her words were muffled in his chest, but he understood them.

"Clubhouse."

"You can come home…" She stated, before quickly adding, "If you want." His mouth cracked into a smile that he buried in her hair, kissing the top of her head.

"'Course I do." He nudged her back a little and moved his hand to her chin to tip her face up towards his. She watched as his eyes flicked to her lips, silently asking permission. When she didn't pull away, he leaned down, pressing his lips to hers. He tried to deepen the kiss, pulling her closer and slipping his tongue into her mouth but she pulled away.

"I'm sorry. I just… I need time… I'm sorry." She fumbled, kicking herself mentally for pulling away. She'd wanted to kiss him. The minute her eyes closed though, all she could envision was him shooting her father, blowing a hole in his head or memories of their time in Oregon for her birthday tainted knowing he just brought her there as an excuse to do recon.

"S'fine." He responded coolly, although she could hear the hurt at the edges of his gruff words.

"I think I'm gonna head out," she sighed, "Long day." He simply nodded in response.

"See you at home?" She asked hopefully, gazing back up at him nervously. He nodded again, smiling down at her. He chanced another kiss, pressing it quickly to her lips and pulling away before she had the chance to shut him down for a third time.

A/N: Thanks for continuing to read. Leave reviews to let me know how you feel.