Feel Nothing

"In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity"

Sun Tzu, The Art of War

Her grip tightens on the wheel as she stares at the all-to-familiar building emerging into view. How many times in her life have those doors at St. Thomas welcomed her - as a visitor, a patient, an employee, a goddamn victim?

During her childhood, the rambling red brick building had been a symbol of misery: where the doctors and nurses had treated her broken bones and various other injuries, their faces suspicious yet resigned after she'd claim yet another bicycle accident or tumble down the stairs or fall out of a tree.

Worst of all had been those excruciating hours sitting beside Jax, desperately hoping for the doctors to tell them that Tommy Teller would be okay, that he'd wake up any minute and be ready to go home. But there'd been no such reassuring words as her dear friend, the most darling little boy in the world, never again opened those sweet blue eyes. While the Teller family grieved together, Tara had slipped away and escaped to the first empty room she could find. Locking herself inside, she'd slid to the floor as the crushing grief overwhelmed her; nothing - not her Daddy's fists or even her Mom's death - had hurt more than knowing she'd never see Tommy again.

It wasn't until much later, after she had no more tears left, that Tara realized she'd stumbled into one of the doctor's offices - apparently one who worked with babies and little kids based on all the pictures adorning the walls. She'd been transfixed by the photos of the young doctor in green scrubs and white coat, grinning proudly as he posed with his small, healthy looking patients and their happy parents. Tara might've only been eleven years old, but she knew at that moment what she wanted to do with her life. She'd clutched the macaroni necklace that Tommy had made her in art class; maybe one day she'd be able to save a little boy like him.

Twenty years later, St. Thomas had given her that opportunity and so much more - in her green scrubs and white doctor's coat, she'd helped saved so many children and been widely respected as a gifted doctor with the brightest of futures.

But the workplace that had once been her haven from Joshua - and proud testament of how far she'd risen above her fucked up youth - was yet again a dreaded site, now a moldering emblem of shame and bitterness over the ruined career for which she'd worked so hard and sacrificed so much.

She pulls into the hospital lot, parks in an empty space then turns off the engine. Twisting in her seat, she smiles at the very first of the precious little babies she'd help save here at St. Thomas. Fuck Wendy, in Tara's mind and heart, Abel's very much her child, her blood. She'd told Jax that she didn't regret coming back to Charming, and that was pure truth - no way in hell could she imagine a world without her sons, Abel and Thomas were everything to her.

"Ok guys, we need to make a quick stop here. Then we can go back to grandma's house, and she'll make you dinner."

Abel wrinkles his little nose at her. "Don't want to go to grandma's house," he pouts. "Me and Tommy want to stay with you."

Tara would love nothing more than to never take them to that woman's house again, nothing more than to drive out of this parking lot - out of this fucking town - with her boys and never return. But even though the medical board revoked her license, the doctor still lives inside of her and she's still got one patient left who's counting on her. So even though the thought of returning the boys to Gemma makes her sick, she has to get back to the cabin to check on Bobby - and she doesn't want her sons anywhere near that place, especially since Jax would likely be there as well.

No, Abel and Thomas don't need to see their parents' inevitable ugly confrontation; Tara would endure any amount of Gemma's shit before she'd let her babies witness that.

However, given the short window available to finish her business at St. Thomas, she can't afford to get into a debate with the smartest five-year-old in town. Instead she counters with a broad smile and some distraction. "Ready to see Miss Molly?"

Guilt tugs at her as both boys chirp excitedly at the prospect of seeing their favorite day care teacher again. Even though Tara's no longer on staff - thanks to Margaret, she still has access to her old office and the hospital day care for the boys. But after the fake miscarriage debacle, Jax decided that only Gemma could watch Abel and Thomas since Tara could no longer be trusted to take them anywhere. Yet again her precious sons suffered for their parents' colossally stupid decisions.

And so, she couldn't refuse when Abel begged her to let him and Thomas stay at day care for snack time and yet another viewing of "Finding Nemo." Fuck Jax and his idiot Biker King commands. Besides, leaving the boys in Molly Murphy's capable hands for a couple of hours would allow her to check on Bobby at the cabin, then come back here to pick them up and go home. Screw Gemma.

But first she's got an appointment to keep…

"You know I'll always support you as much as I can, Tara. But you need to stop helping these…. people." Dr. Namid eyes her reprovingly as he plucks a bag filled with antibiotics and other medications from a drawer and slides it across his desk to her. "I know you think of them as family, but I hate what living among them has done to you."

While working at St. Thomas, Tara maintained friendly relationships with the hospital staff; many of the older doctors helped her through her residency, inviting her to assist in more difficult surgeries so she could learn and offering consult when she needed help with her own patients. After passing the exams to become a board-certified surgeon, she did the same for the young interns and residents - including mentoring her own replacement after the botched kidnapping had crushed her hand.

However, after all the shit with Otto blew up in her face - getting arrested and facing prison time, losing her job and medical license - many of her former colleagues distanced themselves from her. It was one thing for her to be an outlaw's Old Lady, a novelty that inspired amused disbelief and a bit of awe, but something completely unacceptable to be an accused criminal herself.

Not surprisingly, the three people who'd stood by her during these dark days were those who'd already seen her at her worst.

Margaret had been her rock and co-conspirator until the fear of Jax and SAMCRO retaliation had sent her bolting on an impromptu "vacation" with her husband and their younger kids (Molly, their oldest daughter, had refused to go with them citing responsibilities at the hospital day care). As devastating as Margaret's desertion had been, Tara couldn't blame her - Jax and Gemma weren't exactly known for their generously forgiving natures; no one was safe when either of those two went on a warpath, let alone both.

Unable to bear the disappointment in her former boss' eyes, Tara glances down and tugs at her new cast - another favor from another friend who hadn't abandoned her. Despite the fact she'd lost her job and the medical insurance that went with it, Balian had insisted on examining her hand after she got out jail and authorizing her physical therapy every week. And today, he'd asked a nurse to intercept her after she'd left the boys at daycare and take her to meet him in one of the exam rooms.

"What is it?" Her brow puckers with worry at the sight of him waiting for her; after her last exam in this very room, he'd assured her that none of her jailhouse scuffles had done any damage. Did he check the x-rays again and see something worse? Frozen in the doorway, her heart lurches at the thought; with no more health insurance, she can't afford further treatment for herself. Even though Balian refused to charge her for his time, that doesn't mean the hospital will continue to let him do it. Besides, she and her sons are getting the hell out of this town - every dime she owns needs to go to that and setting them up in a new home.

Balian looks up from the chart he'd been studying and motions for her to come inside the room. "Nothing but good news." He offers a welcoming smile, no doubt to try and ease some of the anxiety that must've been radiating off her in waves.

He points to rectangular shaped box on the exam table. "We got a shipment of these today…I think it's exactly what you need."

Raising an eyebrow at him, Tara walks to the table and opens the box - revealing the slimmest soft cast she's ever seen.

"…it's a new material…should give you more comfort, more mobility while providing even better support so your nerves can heal faster."

She runs her fingers across the cast's smooth fastenings, impressed by the sleek strength of the soft fabric, then steps back and somewhat reluctantly shakes her head. "The one I have is fine. You should give this to someone who really needs it."

"I am giving it to someone who really needs it." Balian pulls the cast out from the box and extends it to her. "I told you that I'm no optimist, but you're on your way to a full recovery. No reason not to hasten it along. Instead of six months, we could be looking at four."

A month ago, she would've jumped for joy over the chance of reclaiming her surgical career that much sooner - but then a month ago, she hadn't been arrested and charged with accessory to murder, hadn't spent time in jail, hadn't been reduced by desperation to concoct that ridiculously asinine plot that would've given custody of her boys to Wendy. No, a month ago, she had a shiny new practice and a promising new life waiting in Oregon for her and her family (whether or not Jax chose to come with them). But now…

Damn it, she doesn't want to think about her lost career, the end to her dreams. She can't afford to wallow in regret and self-pity, otherwise giving into that shit would destroy her like it did her parents. "Look, I appreciate this, I really do. But there's really no rush. It's not as if I have a bunch of surgeries waiting for me."

Balian presses the cast in her good hand. "You're a fighter, Tara. The medical board doesn't stand a chance in hell if you decide to take them on and get your license back. Talk to Namid…he would know."

When she first received the letter from the medical board revoking her license, it'd hurt like hell, but at the time she'd been dealing with much bigger problems - including the very real and horrifying prospect of going to prison - so she'd shoved the death of her career to the back of her mind; having a medical license wouldn't do her much good inside. She'd tossed the letter without reading beyond the first paragraph.

But now that those charges against have been dropped, could she dare hope that she didn't need to lose everything? That maybe one day she could be a doctor again…after all she's going to need a livelihood to support her boys - no fucking way will they live off the dirty profits made by Jax's whore.

"So if I want to get my license back, what would I need to do?" Grimly aware of the irony of her question, she curls her fingers around the bag filled with not-so-by-the-book prescription meds.

A small smile deepens the creases of Dr. Namid's lined, yet still youthful face - the first he'd directed at her since she'd gone against his advice and started counseling prisoners, specifically Otto. He'd been more than a little vocal in his objections to her consorting with the "criminals" at Stockton - arguing that if anything bad happened, she'd be more vulnerable to scrutiny given her ties to SAMCRO. But she'd ignored his warnings in her stubborn, single-minded determination to help Jax and The Club.

If only she'd listened…

Leaning forward, she stares into the all-knowing eyes of the man who'd once been her boss, her mentor, her very inspiration to be a doctor when she first stumbled into his office to mourn the death of her best friend so many years ago.

She's listening now.

"That stupid, irresponsible shit…" Tara fumes, tossing her phone into her purse. She'd called the cabin to tell Bobby that she was on her way with his meds, only to be informed by Rat that Bobby had left to go to a Church meeting with the rest of the guys. What part of "bed rest" and "limited movement" did that overgrown idiot not understand? Once again, duty to The Club wins out - even over personal health and safety.

Gritting her teeth, she drives the few miles to Scoops, the newly designated SAMCRO clubhouse. Jacob Hale had bought the place a few months ago with the intent to transform it into a high-end creamery to serve gourmet ice cream flavors and over-priced juices to wealthy, future Charming Heights residents. But for months, Scoops' been closed while the fancy housing development remains stalled by red tape. Lucky for SAMCRO.

Tara eases her car into a space, cuts the engine and then once again stares up at an old building that's figured so prominently in her memories of life in Charming. On rare, non-dysfunctional days, her parents would take her here to celebrate perfect report cards - Mom had loved cookies and cream while Dad always ordered triple scoops of whatever he saw first. And strawberry was Tara's favorite.

And when she'd come here on dates with Jax, she'd developed an even greater fondness for the pale pink ice cream.

"Let's go." He'd been staring at her a bit too intently as she licked around the single strawberry scoop, trying to prevent any of the melted cream from trickling down the cone.

She raises a brow at him, her lips twitching with amusement as he impatiently tugs her out of the booth. "Where are we going?" It's late, and they're the only two customers left; Jax had convinced the lone employee - a bored, wannabe croweater - to let them stay while she closed the store.

It doesn't take long to find out as he drags her into the single bathroom then locks the door. "I want to do a science experiment," he breathes against her neck, pushing her back against the wall. "You'll love it…trust me."

Pulse hammering, her fingers tighten around the cone as he unbuttons her shirt and deftly unclasps the front close of her bra. "Well you know me…" She flicks the ice cream with her tongue as he tugs her shirt and bra down her arms, leaving her quite exposed. "Anything for science."

Since their childhood friendship took a turn into something much more a couple of months ago, they can't seem to keep their hands off each other. While she wasn't ready for all-the-way sex yet - their status as a couple was still a little too new - that didn't stop them from doing just about everything else, just about everywhere they went together.

His breathing hitches and those bright blue eyes gleam with lusty appreciation as he ogles her bare breasts, causing her nipples to tighten and toes to curl. Given all of his previous sexual experiences with other girls, it's still weird for her to believe that he could get so worked up over her. But it's there in the way he looks at her, touches her, wants to spend every minute with her - Jax's in as deep as she is, and it's a fucking thrill.

He scrapes his index finger across the ice cream, then glances at the rosy pink froth gathered on his fingertip. "I'm convinced this is the same color as your nipples after I've sucked on them."

Now it's her turn to suck in her breath as every inch of her shivers with carnal excitement. "That's your hypothesis?" She bends her heard to lap up more ice cream, her eyes glued to his. "Well then you'd better prove it."

Wiping his finger on her nipple - causing her to shiver from the cold ice and hot anticipation - he lifts her easily so she can wrap her legs around his waist, then bends his head to her breast, his tongue lashing the tip before suckling softly then harder and harder.

The cone splits in her hand spilling the cold cream in her palm, but Tara doesn't care. Instead, she uses her free hand to spread more of the sticky pink mess on her other nipple, drawing Jax's greedy mouth. Stars explode in her head as he pleasures both of her breasts - nibbling and suckling her hungrily while she moans his name over and over, grinding hard against his stiff cock threatening to burst through his jeans.

"Christ, Babe," he gasps after she screams her release, burying his face against her heaving breasts.

Her pounding heart squeezes at the sight of him fighting for self-control, something she's sure he's never had to do before hooking up with her. One day she'll reward him for it, but not now…not in this old ice cream parlor bathroom.

Running her fingers through his hair, she tugs lightly until he turns his desire-glazed gaze to her. "So…were you right?" Cupping his bristly cheek in her hand, she rubs her lips against his.

He responds by claiming her mouth in a long, hot, wet kiss. Then pressing his forehead against hers, he squeezes her tight as a cocky smirk spreads across his beautiful face. "Not sure...I'll need to do more experiments."

Goddamn it! Tara smacks the steering wheel with her palm. She can't let the positive memories of her past with Jax invade her brain; they could only serve to distract and - even worse - blunt her anger and resolve. Nothing can get in the way of the safe future she needs to create for her boys - especially not their lying, cheating father.

Grabbing her bag, she slams out of the car and stalks towards the clubhouse, closing her eyes briefly to settle the turmoil brewing inside of her…a confrontation with Jax was likely coming, she'll need to muster every ounce of fight she's got to match up against the dirtiest fighter she knows.

But before she could go inside, the initial subject of her ire stumbles out the door with Chibs on his heels. "Hey Doc," Bobby shoots her a weak smile. "Fancy seeing you here. I was just on my way back to the cabin."

Crossing her arms across her chest, Tara glares at both men until both they squirm like little boys who've been well and truly busted. "You're not supposed to be out of bed, Bobby - in case you forgot you were shot two days ago." Reaching into her bag, she pulls out the medication and the note with instructions and shoves them at Chibs. "I called in my last favor...these should last him the next few weeks, which should be enough. Be sure you read these instructions before you give him anything."

"Thanks, Doc. But you should know, I wasn't out of bed long, I swear," Bobby assures her. "The guys just needed my help here."

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, until spots Jax through the ice cream shop window…and he wasn't alone; Tara's eyes burn at the sight of the blonde whore she'd caught fucking Jax a few days ago. Standing by the bar, Jax nods gravely as the whore explains something to him, running her hand up his arm affectionately.

The old Tara may have bolted inside and beat the shit out of the bitch, but instead she opts to take satisfaction in the old hooker's broken nose, blackened eye and swollen jaw. That cheap bitch won't be sucking dick without pain for some time.

Turning on her heel, Tara stomps back to her car, ignoring the two men calling out to her to come back; since Jax had been searching for her, he'd likely give them both hell for letting her go. She'd managed to open her car door when a big hand reaches out to grab her arm and spin her around…and bring her face to face with a pair of familiar - and furious - blue eyes.

"Where the hell have you been?" His grip tightens as she tries to pull free. "Why haven't you returned any of my calls? We need to talk, Tara."

She skewers him with a glare filled with all the loathing she could muster. "I didn't go ratting to the cops if that's what you're worried about." Apparently that was the case as his eyes soften a bit and his shoulders relax, however, his hold on her remains just as tight. "Didn't it occur to you that I didn't want to talk to you? Oh right, only what you want matters…Let. Go. Of. Me," she grits through clenched teeth. "Your whore's going to get jealous."

Ignoring her taunt, he pulls her closer; his gaze raking her face, as if searching for any possible softness that she still might harbor for him - that he could exploit. "So then what are you doing here?"

Tara narrows her eyes at him; no doubt he didn't want her to catch him with that woman. "Sorry, I didn't realize I wasn't welcome."

She can tell her response annoys him, but his grasp loosens fractionally. "That's not what I meant." He reaches up with his free hand to touch her face, scowling when she flinches. "You can come here any time you want." Those blue eyes lock with hers, trying to communicate without having to say the words he didn't know.

But it's too late to save what they had...way too late. "Look, I came to bring Bobby some meds he's going to need for his recovery. I gave them to Chibs; if they follow the directions, Bobby should be fine."

His frown deepens as he finally releases her. "You're not going to look after him? Obviously, you don't have to, but I thought…I guess you have to concentrate on your trial."

She tosses her bag inside the car. "There's not going to be a trial; there was a hearing today, and they dropped the charges against me."

"Hey that's great news…"

"I'm leaving Charming, Jax. And I'm going to take Abel and Thomas with me." She jumps into the car before he can grab her again. "If you come home tomorrow, you can see the boys and we can talk more about visitation. But the only way you can stop me is if you kill me."

With that, she slams the door, guns the engine and drives away.