AN: Some of you may notice I deleted the one-shot series. As this story continues to grow, the one shots were just not fitting in anymore. The characters have been developing differently (Gemma in particular) and the timeline just wasn't coming together. The one-shots were hampering me too much. I think they were also distracting for a lot of you. Much thanks to everyone who reviewed and to elbeewoods for the continued encouragement.
Tara POV
I slept hard. As usual, the nightmares pulled me deep into the underworld; one of several nightmares on a weekly rotation. I wandered aimlessly around a cemetery in the twilight following a nameless, disheveled woman. She never spoke; we never touched; and I never knew where she was taking me - I never stayed asleep long enough to find out. When she appeared, I always felt like something important was supposed to happen, something life altering, but it never did. I just wandered from one silent horror to the next, an unsettling sojourn through incomprehensible violence. Behind me I heard a door creaking open, like someone was trying to conceal themselves. I looked around, half expecting someone or something to emerge from one of the crypts but there was nothing there.
I faintly realized that the door was opening in my real life but I was stuck between two worlds. It wasn't until I heard the sound of water running and glass on metal clanging in the kitchen that I was able to disassociate from the dream world. The clanging dishes reverberated like cymbals, at least I assumed it was dishes and not actual cymbals smashing against my skull. A wave of nausea twisted my stomach and I forced myself to breathe through it until it subsided. The rich aroma of coffee embraced me as I struggled to sit upright and looked around.
Shit.
I'd been hoping it had been a dream but I really had stayed at Jax'. I looked down at the hunter green blanket with no recollection of how it'd gotten there. I was on the couch which was a good sign given I clearly wasn't in my right mind last night.
I remembered fighting with Adam, remembered fighting with my dad. I remembered Ryan and Jax finding me in the park. I vaguely remembered walking, or more like stumbling considering the ripped right knee of my jeans and scratches on my palms. Everything after meeting Ryan and Jax was a blur.
I put my feet on the floor and tried to stand but moved too quickly. I cradled my head in my hands willing the ache to go away.
I heard movement, someone walking from the kitchen, but I didn't even try to lift my head. I heard the clunk of a coffee cup being set in front of me; felt a soft hand run across my scalp.
"Rough night, sweetheart?" Gemma asked.
I looked up, the movement sent my brain slamming into the side of my skull.
"Just a little," I responded with a grimace.
"Drink," she instructed. "The caffeine will help your head."
I gingerly took a sip. The warmth filled up my insides, taking away the empty chill left by the graveyard.
"Thanks, Mrs. Teller," I told her before taking another sip. "It's really good."
She took a seat next to me and didn't say anything for a while. I wasn't sure that was a good thing but I took advantage of it, giving my head time to recover.
"You know you can tell me if he hurts you, right?" she asked suddenly.
It took my brain a minute to process the question and another minute to form a response. My dad. She was talking about my dad.
"I know Mrs. Teller. I appreciate that. He didn't do anything. I…. left before anything could happen."
Gemma clicked her tongue in disapproval. "That son of a bitch –"
"Mrs. Teller, please. It's really okay. I… it was my fault this time. I was being too loud. I was… arguing…"
She looked at me expectantly.
"With Adam," I finished, my throat suddenly thick.
Her lips pressed together thoughtfully. For the first time that morning, I looked at her. She looked like she was still wearing yesterday's clothes. I mean, I hadn't seen her the day before, but the rumpled fabric was out of character for her and her eyeliner seemed smudged with sleep. She smelled like the club house; cigarettes, gasoline, and sweat.
"Are you just getting home?" I asked, not really thinking too much about the question.
A cross between guilt and satisfaction crossed her face
"I was catching up on some paperwork last night. I hate not being home for Jackson but at least business is going well for once. We're lucky to have your boyfriend around to help out. He's good rebuilding engines; he's sharp," she replied, tossing the conversation a different direction.
I tried to laugh but it was strangled. "Yeah, he is," I agreed somberly.
"Things still bad between you two?" she asked.
I shrugged.
"Is that why you're here?" she asked. The concern sounded genuine but the inference bothered me. If she thought that, Adam was definitely going to think the worst.
'No!" I quickly denied. "I… I…" I stuttered, face burning red. I wasn't sure what was more embarrassing, her perception or the actual truth. "I was going to sleep in the park but Ryan and Jax found me."
A frustrated sigh escaped her. "I'm sorry, Tara. That came out badly. I just meant, I know how close you and Jackson are. I didn't mean it to sound like… well, you're out here on the couch so… obviously…."
It wasn't often that the SAMCRO Queen was at a loss of words but she wasn't very reassuring.
"'It's okay, Mrs. Teller. I understand," I answered sad and ashamed.
Gemma held my stare for a long moment and then patted my knee.
"Are you going home before you go to school?" she asked.
I shook my head no.
"I think I have a shirt you can wear. There's got to be something in there appropriate for school," she said with a wink. "And don't worry about Adam being mad about you staying here. I'll take care of that," she added, reading my mind.
I nodded. "Thanks, Mrs. Teller."
"Now finish that coffee and get yourself some toast. I'll be right back with that shirt."
I took another sip and then rested my head on my knees. My head did feel a little better, but I still felt like I'd been hit by a bus. What time had I fallen asleep? I had no idea.
"Well someone's looking awfully chipper this morning," came Jax's voice, bursting like a sunbeam through the fog.
"It's too early for you to be this annoying," I grumbled into my cup.
"Whoa, Knowles," he said, squinting his eyes like he was examining me. "I knew you were pretty wasted last night but you look like you might still be drunk."
I cracked a tiny smile. "I might be."
He laughed but he looked concerned.
"You want some toast or something?" he asked.
I groaned at the thought.
He nodded. "So, wake and bake it is then?"
"Might help," I managed to grunt.
He sat next to me and hit the joint enough to get it burning before passing it over to me. We smoked the whole thing in silence.
"Better?" he asked as he extinguished the roach in a nearby ashtray.
"Better," I agreed.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me off the couch. When I protested, he took me by the shoulders and pushed me toward the dining room table.
"We're not animals, Knowles. We eat at the kitchen table," he chided before opening the refrigerator door and drinking straight from the milk carton.
"Remind me never to eat cereal here," I frowned at his back.
"Come on, Knowles, We're all friends here. What's a little saliva? Not like… well, you know."
I shook my head. A minute later he set two slices of toast and some strawberry jelly in front of me.
I stared at it for a second before telling him, "You know, I've never actually had strawberry jelly before."
He looked at me like I'd just blasphemed.
"Serious?" he asked with a full mouth.
I shrugged. "We've always used grape. Ever since I was little."
When I didn't reach for it he stopped chewing and stared at me.
"It's not poison, Tara. It's just strawberry. You love strawberry everything." he pushed the jar toward me. "It's good for you."
How sugar filled preservatives could be good for me, I wasn't really sure.
"Just because I love strawberry everything doesn't mean it's good for me," I reasoned.
Jax rolled his eyes. "Just try it."
I scraped some on my toast and took a bite.
"Well?" he asked.
It was my turn to roll my eyes but I had to laugh. "Okay, I love strawberry everything."
Gemma walked out (all traces of yesterday's make up gone) and handed me a shirt. "What size shoe are you, sweetheart?" she asked.
"Seven and a half," I answered warily.
"Well these won't fit you then," she explained lifting up some extremely high heeled, thigh high boots. "But I had these laying around. I think they'll fit. They're probably more your style anyway," she added with a wink.
"What's wrong with my shoes?" I asked as she shoved the box into my hands.
I swallowed my toast as I stared at the unopened shoebox. I lifted the lid to reveal a brand new pair of ruby red Doc Martens that I'd been dreaming about for months. My dad would never let me wear them, let alone buy them no matter how much I had begged. Something about the glint in Gemma's eyes told me she knew. I looked at Jax and he was smiling like a cat with a canary.
I scrutinized them both. "These were just 'laying around' your closet huh? Size 7 ½? Tags still on and everything?"
Gemma smirked. "Yeah, it was the strangest thing. I'm not even sure where they came from but I guess they're yours now." You'd think someone as criminally inclined as she would be a better liar.
"Thanks, Gemma. I really appreciate it." I was humbled. I wonder how long she'd had these and when she'd planned on giving to them. Did she know this would happen? That I'd run away from my dad and end up here, with nothing but the literal clothes on my back? The thought embarrassed me but the gesture also melted something frozen inside me. Whatever the reasoning, Gemma had planned this… Jax and Gemma had planned this. They'd thought about me. They'd done something nice for me… something unimaginably nice. No one had given me anything like this since my mom was alive.
Gemma smiled. "Don't mention it, sweetheart." She paused and looked at the clock. "You kids better get ready. Frankie'll be here soon. You better not keep him waiting… I might have to total his truck if he honks his horn one more god damn time."
Jax shoved half a piece of toast in his mouth and grabbed my dishes.
"I've got it," I tried to wave him off but he wasn't hearing it.
"Go get ready. I know you chicks take forever."
I rolled my eyes but gently grabbed his arm and pulled him to me.
"Thank you, Jax. That was really sweet of you and your mom. I don't know how you knew, but… thank you." Then, I surprised myself; I steeled my nerves, planted a kiss on his cheek and turned toward the bathroom before he could make eye contact.
I closed the bathroom door and slid down until I was sitting against it. I brought my palms up to my cheeks which were hot with embarrassment. I couldn't believe I had just done that but something had just come over me. The gesture… I didn't know what to think about the boots. A kiss on the cheek seemed like it wasn't enough. I knew Jax hadn't expected anything from me in return but somehow that made it worse.
How had he known I wanted them so badly? And why would he do something so nice? I didn't deserve them. I had been nothing more than a pain in his ass since the school year started; intentionally keeping him at arm's length, intentionally not letting him in. But the sneaky little bastard always found a way; he sought out the cracks and crevices in my bravado and found a way to seal himself inside. It was aggravating but then why was I smiling?
I finally stood and cleaned myself up. I stripped down and then stared at the shirt Gemma had given me before grudgingly putting it on. It was definitely something….different. It was black and fitted with a deep, deep V-neck. Blood red ribbon crisscrossed what little cleavage I had. It was obviously meant for someone with a bigger bust and I had to tighten the laces to cover up what little I had. It was a little much but the cut out shoulders made up for it. I wasn't use to showing much skin but my shoulders seemed innocent enough. It was definitely a change from my standard Mossimo tee. The only problem was the three quarter sleeves; my forearms were on full display. Normally I wore a bracelet of several dog tag chains linked together to camouflage my cuts but I'd left them on the nightstand in my room.
I looked down at my ratty jeans and sighed. There was no way to salvage them. I rummaged through the drawers until I found a pair of scissors. Carefully, I cut a few more slits in the denim until it looked like maybe I had bought them that way. Then, I sat on the closed toilet lid and took out the Doc Martens. They were everything I remembered from staring at them through the store window. I couldn't get over it. These were mine! I laced them up, fingers fumbling to get the lengths perfect and then I stood to look in the mirror.
My breath caught. It was me but a different me. It was like a manifestation of what I always wanted to portray but was too afraid to embrace. I looked confident; I looked strong; I looked like a fucking badass. Instead of trying to hide the things I was ashamed of, I was wearing them loudly. Instead of obsessing about trying to bury my "don't fuck with me" persona, I screamed it; I owned it; and I felt fucking free. The ripped jeans weren't a scandal from the night before, they were a statement. Despite the thudding in my head, I felt empowered.
Had Jax and Gemma known what they were giving me?
I finally walked out of the bathroom. Gemma was still in the kitchen so I wandered back in there. Her eyes appraised me for a moment before landing on my left forearm. Instinctively, I covered it with my right hand and looked away… my moment of badassery in the bathroom slowly leaching out.
"You look great, but I think you need one more thing."
She walked back to her room and I awkwardly poured myself another cup of coffee. She returned a minute later with a silver beaded strap held together with black leather coils.
She gestured for my left hand and I gave it to her. She wound the leathered strip around my forearm, crisscrossing until it made a unique pattern and then fastened it.
"Perfect," she said.
I looked down. It was perfect. Not only did it cover any evidence of self-harm but it was beautiful in an unconventional sort of way.
I heard a whistle from the living room and saw Jax staring greedily at me.
"Damn mom, you didn't tell me we had company," he joked.
I rolled my eyes which seemed to be the only thing I could do when he was around.
I heard a honk come from outside.
"Go!" Gemma commanded. "Before he wakes up the whole damn neighborhood."
