AN(( Contains mature themes, swearing, mentioned violence. Enjoy!))

Present…

Once upon a time she'd thought she'd known what people were capable of enduring, now she understood just how insanely, even terrifyingly wrong she had been. Had someone, anyone, warned her that one man's hate, his unquenchable pursuit for revenge would tear her life apart, she would have thought 'not again'. Until the unthinkable happens you never assume it will happen to you, never the first time, certainly never the second. Nora wasn't naïve, she knew bad things happened to good people, they happened to terrible people too you just had to be patient, and maybe if she listened to the words long enough she would believe them. The inevitable blow back from the incident had been slow to rise at first and they'd known it would hit like a nuclear fallout, decimating the last lingering fibers of herself, and then it would be time rebuild. With Happy by her side she would remake the broken fragments of her life, because through his strength, she would triumph.

Often in the late wee hours of the night Nora dared to allow herself to ponder the what if's. Surrounded by only the minuet creaking sounds of the settling house and the hushed grumbling snore of Mash and Medusa by her feet, did she bother to give it any power at all for louder than anyone's painfully polite advice was the cold, distant nightmarish echo that was always eager to remind her of its message.

How easily he'd decided the value of her life, that she was something less than human.

Pope didn't deserve her forgiveness, but Nora, she deserved peace.

Neither retribution nor vengeance would change what had happened, an eye for an eye wouldn't take it back. Pope and two of his men were already dead, their trails and tribulations on this earth were over and she accepted all of this with a twisting heart but did Happy? Did her father?

Between the law, and recently morbid and cruel attention of Lee Toric and his own insane pursuit of vengeance against SAMCRO, the two men's self-made retribution would be forced to wait, to learn an uncomfortable lesson. It seemed for every victory, the universe reminded them they had to pay for their illicit past, that nothing came for free. There was no denying they were wounded, their enemies could smell the blood in the water and if they didn't think quickly they would drown.

Nora had come to know and respect that when you lived outside the safety of conventional society, blood and bullets were the rule of law, and if you were a person of convictions, violence was inevitable. Only time would tell if they triumphed, but if she was perfectly honest she took comfort in their enemies ignorance, their readiness to see them fail. They underestimated their power, the Son's willingness to survive and in the end they would be the ones to suffer.

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Trust, it's been building day by day and they both know what's at stake.

To her relief he grasps the back of her neck in his hand, sparing her the anxiety of making the first move, perhaps even anxious himself. Eyes wide in the pale dusk, Nora wordlessly sought permission from the man in front of her, and by the way Happy cradles her she knows the answer. They've both overcome so much in such a short amount of time, the road to normality still ions away, but drew closer everyday. Nora knew one thing was certain, she was not alone, never again would she be alone.

There was an electric current in the air, an excitement searing the senses. Happy was eager to show Nora that she was still alive, beautiful and forever his. Time and again the anxiety that controls her has fought him, its strength still apparent in her softly fevered breath and trembling limbs. Always threatening their progress, taunting him at every turn, and try as they might to ignore reality, it had become impossible to deny that things had changed the once normal and innocent exchanges irrevocably transformed. Breath hot against her lips he hovers just above them, hell-bent he will accept nothing short of victory. Struggling briefly, Nora tried to clear her mind, banish the panic that was rising in her chest and desperately held on to the desire she felt growing, how badly she yearned to nurture that fire, to let it burn wild.

Tired of being afraid, of allowing dead men to control her any more she finally gave herself over to sensations, body and soul she would give to him.

With his free hand, Happy took hers, confidently unfurling the tight fist she'd made.

He speaks, deep voice sending pleasant shivers down her spine.

"Who are you?"

Breathing deeply, lungs filling with courage she answers him and the Son can hear that finally there is true belief.

"Yours, David…I'm yours."

He would remind her of who she was, one kiss, one touch at a time.

Placing her palm flat against his broad chest he hoped the simple touch would invoke a flare of reassurance in the young woman and to his great relief she takes the leap of faith and meets him half way leaning in to his touch. Her lips feel like heaven as they meet his, tentative at first before growing bolder, each kiss tearing away the weeks transgressions, pushing away the carnage, the bullets and the blood. Nora isn't the only one whose been flailing and until that moment Happy hadn't been willing to admit the truth, to acknowledge what had always been.

Through her he is forgiven and by her unwavering love he is reborn.

With feather light kisses she travels along the plains of his face, dusting the arch of his brow and down along the bridge of his nose until finally they find purchase against his mouth. The silent words are heard regardless by the Tacoma Killer telling him what he's yearned to hear for longer than he cares to remember. Sitting cross-legged in the bed his hands smoothing up her bare back, he pulls closer until she's flush against him, legs wrapping around his waist as the sweet sound of her voice whispers his name again. Teeth grazing her throat he can taste her beating heart, feel the fear melting away.

Shuddering, she unravels in his arms. A blissful smile etched across her face as her eyes close, as she is deliciously undone by his touch. How glorious it feels to be brought to the edge of oblivion, to be wholly destroyed and pieced back together through these carnal delights. Breasts pressing against his chest she clings to him, head resting against his shoulder. Trying to catch her breath Nora had only a second before he lifted her chin and kissed her hard one more time, hands cradling her face as they broke apart, his forehead resting calmly against hers.

Body tingling still, she reveled in the moment, the otherwise serene environment tinged by the sudden stomping of heavy boots in the kitchen, beer bottles crashing off the kitchen counter followed by low cursing. Bemused by the odd interruption she kissed the corner of his mouth, the pleasant sensation of being filled by him incentive enough to try to ignore the commotion outside her bedroom. Nuzzling against the side of her throat, the tip of his tongue tracing the outside of her ear as he rocked his hips forward Happy lifted her up just enough to lay her back against the bed where he pulled out slowly before thrusting inside again, harder than before.

Mouth forming in a silent 'O' Nora's eyes fluttered open and closed.

Panting gently, breath growing faster as he increased the cadence and her whimper growing louder, turn sweeter with each second that passes by.

Toes curling against the comforter Nora cried out, knees brushing against his sides, and just before the oblivion swallowed them whole again she opens her eyes to look at him, the strength, the belief is there, clear for him to see.

"That's my girl."

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Wearing only Happy's blue and black plaid shirt, the buttons left open, sleeves rolled up to the elbows she took in the warmth of his body against her cheek. The palm of her hand flat against his chest the beating of his heart something she cherished above all things. Tracing the lines of the tattoos running along his shoulder she couldn't begin to express the gratitude she felt at his patience, the deeply rooted loyalty he carried for her. It couldn't have been easy, waiting as long as he had for her to be ready but as he had proven to her in the past he was a man possessed, by devotion, anger, love.

There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her.

Propping up on her elbow, Nora brushed a collection of sleep tousled curls from her face tucking them gently behind her ear. Looking towards the foot of the bed where only Mash's snout is visible causing her to smile, amused. A loud snort of displeasure and the nose disappears from sight, a soft grumbling whine following in its wake. The other 'man' in her life is less than pleased by his sudden and abrupt banishment to the floor, much preferring his earlier sleeping arrangement with his mommy. Rolling her eyes, Nora wasn't sure who is more jealous of the other, Mash or Hap. The power play between to the two alpha's was entertaining to say the least.

Amusement aside, there's was a slightly more pressing issue pulling at the forefront of her mind.

Licking her upper lip she swallowed thickly, knowing if she doesn't say it now she never will.

"Frankie, Frankie and his sister Rachael..."

Inhale, steady. Exhale. Repeat.

"She would check on Mash for me while I was at work, she knew where I kept my spare keys. I was so stupid..so goddamn stupid not to see what was right in front of me. Her brother had asked if I was going to be home all night...Jesus Christ."

Opening his eyes, Happy stared up at the ceiling, the pad of his thumb drawing lines back and forth along her shoulder. He respected his Presidents decision regarding Pope's last man, but timing was everything and the time wasn't now. The other guilty parties involved however, they were free game. Happy had just been waiting for Nora to be ready.

He'd known she'd sift through every possibility, play out every scenario, and still come to the same awful conclusion. Happy had already accepted the facts a long time ago, and felt no sympathy for the parties involved. However he knew this resolution would not be so easily accepted by Nora, at least not at first. She suffered from what he considered a human weakness, emotional attachment, and despite the heinous deed committed against her, he inwardly worried that attachment would impede her from realizing the result would be always be the same.

The guilty would meet a cowards death, there was never any mercy for the weak.

The fatal error in their betrayal hadn't been their lack of planning, but the same emotional attachment that had kept Nora from accepting what had been in front of her all along. Rachael, the emotional wreck had unconsciously given them up, subtle at first until it had become glaringly clear who had dropped Nora off at the hospital. Whether it was the brother or her it didn't matter. Someone had deviated from the plan and on entering the home had discovered to their relief and horror that things had gone horribly and inconceivably wrong.

()()()()Flash Back, Rach/Frank pov()()()()

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck!

Pacing across the kitchen, back and forth, back and forth.

Hands over her ears, Rachael squeezed her eyes shut until they throbbed with the effort.

Oh god, oh god. She thought desperately. Fear gripping her throat like a vice.

Hands gripping her shoulders she gasped, startled as her brother shook her hard, breaking the short reverie. His own hazel eyes wide with the knowledge of what was happening not a two hundred feet away from where they stood. Even through the blaring music they could still hear the remnants of torture, of Nora screaming, begging for her life. Two, three hours now it had been unending. Face crumbling in to tears his sister pointed towards the kitchen window, the closed blinds.

"You said it would be quick, that she wouldn't feel anything..What the fuck Frank, what the fuck!"

Frustrated he groaned, stepping away from his emotional sibling. Throwing his arms up he cursed.

"I know what I fucking said! I don't want to hear that bitch scream anymore either but what's done is done."

Taking a shallow breath Rachael covered her face, voice cracking through her parted fingers.

"There has to be another way you can do this Frank?!"

A brief crashing sound came from the back alley, a metal trash can slamming against the ground.

Glancing suspiciously out the back doors small window, Frankie half turned towards the younger woman.

"There is no other goddamn way! I have my back to a wall, crews spooked with the competition moving in from the East side. They need to know I can lead us, keep us whole. I don't get us protection we'll be on someone's chopping block, I sure as fuck don't want it to be Popes...They're sayin he's burnin people alive...cutting them up like cattle and stuffing them in to oil drums."

Walking over towards his sister Frankie forced her to look up at him, slapping her face.

"You want that to happen to us huh? HUH?! He says as long as we give him what he wants we'll have what we need and he wants one fucking woman, so that's what I gave him. You got a problem with the noise then put on your headphones and shut the fuck up." He said, shouting.

Watching her brother walk out the kitchen, Rachael sniffed loudly glancing only one more time towards the kitchen window before retreating herself. Opening the door slowly to her room she felt the stinging burn of guilt settling firmly in her stomach. Closing the door behind herself she walked over to her desk, picking up a pair of purple colored ear buds that were connected to a matching MP3 player. Turning it on she picked the loudest song she could find and cranked it up a few notchs higher, and yet she could see hear it, the low undertone of suffering.

Sitting at her desk she had a clear view of the street, of Nora's front door.

A wet cold nose against the bare skin of her leg drew her attention downward, to the eager face of Monstermash as he rested his large head against her thigh. Staring down at the animal she struggled not to turn away, telling herself it wasn't possible for the creature to sense she was the enemy, to know she wasn't to be trusted. Biting her lower lip hard, Rachael tried and failed to stay calm.

"I'm so sorry Mash..."

The dog only whined louder, puzzled by her apology, his tail whapping loudly against the desk confused as to why she seemed to ignore him. Mash wanted to go home, lay on the couch and growl at the animals on the television, maybe sneak his mommy's tennis shoes from the closet when she wasn't looking. Rachael only continued to stare blankly out the window, not listening to him at all. With one final whine, Mash gave up curling into a large ball near the bedroom door, resigned to waiting.

For what seemed like an eternity she watched the house across the street, when suddenly the front door opened and an African American man in an expensive suit stepped out, escorted by another man in plain cloths to the Escalade parked at the end of the driveway. Curiosity peaking through her inner turmoil Rachael continued to watch, waiting to see if anyone else left. It was quite some time later when a single man exited the house carrying a bag, he through it in the back seat of an open vehicle before turning on his heel and making his way back towards the front door, and that was where things became interesting.

The man stopped short of the threshold, one foot over the welcome mat when he all at once turned on his heel and ran full speed towards the car again.

Standing up from her seat, music still blaring in her ears, she watched the car idle for a split second before it peeled out of the driveway.

What the hell was going on?

Apparently she wasn't the only one to think this was peculiar, because her brother waited only a moment himself before crossing the street, gun tucked against the outside of his jean clad leg as he made his way towards the house. Compelled by guilt and intrigue Rachael herself is up like a shot, shoving past the other men on the porch, sandal covered feet making fast strides across the damp, freshly cut lawn. She's barely squeezed ahead of him and inside the house when she feels his iron clad grip around her forearm, the painful grasp going unnoticed, though it would leave an impressive ringlet of bruises tomorrow.

Frozen in place, Rachael could only bear witness to the macabre scene before them. Drenched from head to toe in various shades of drying and fresh blood, eyes impossibly wide and teeth gleaming white in contrast as she let out one shallow discordant scream, slamming the blade down again and again in to the prone body, the blade bending with the sheer force. In a flash Frankie is behind her, arms wrapping around her waist as the blade drops from her weak hands with a heavy clatter to the floor. Turning his head Frankie could feel the warm blood, sticky and damp as it soaked through his shirt, the reality of their situation causing his own blood to run cold.

It wouldn't matter that Nora was the one who killed Pope's man. The devil would still collect his dues and they would be the ones to pay. What's done was done, now they had to decide just what they were going to do, and they had seconds to decide it. Looking at the pale sickened face of his sister just feet away he adjusted the weight of Nora's limp body in his arms.

"You wanted another way Rachael, get the fucking car."

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Pressure to defend their turf had never been higher, their options never so limited, either assimilate with the new world order or be eradicated knew that Popes deal to the low-level street gang had probably seemed like a godsend then, and yet despite their best efforts now they were just royally fucked. Jax had already spoken with August and the new replacement seemed in sync with their opinion, August himself had never agreed with Popes less than stellar indiscretions and was willing to give up the last offending participant on one condition. SAMCRO had to deliver Irish guns, a lofty and dangerous promise, one that even Happy had to question was possible, and then there was something else, something far more important than revenge riding on this deal, Tig Tragers life. Happy had purposely left this off the books when he allowed Nora in on the Clubs decisions par Jax's permission. She had enough to worry about, she didn't need to worry about this.

Watching him closely Nora wondered if he had even heard her at all, he seemed a million miles away.

"Did you hear me? David?" She asked, concern laced in her voice as she looked up at him from her place curled against his side.

Happy's frowned deepened, and he inwardly wondered how she always seemed to know when something was bothering him. Shifting awkwardly Nora moved to sit up, smoothing her palms against his jean clad thighs for a few seconds, before she inquired again.

"Come on, talk to me please?" She asked once more, seeing the seriousness in his expression only deepen.

His response is not what she expects, then again it seldom is.

"When I saw you, saw what they'd done all I could think about was our baby...our little girl."

The tears prick her eyes before she can stop herself, lips parting to speak but his hand rises silencing her.

"I was a son of a bitch Nora. I thought it made me weak to admit it, that I wanted it as badly as you did...Then when you took that job outside of Charming I used it as an excuse to push you away, to tell myself you were bailing...I wasn't a good man then, fuck I'm not sure I'm any different then I was then, but you make me want to be better...the only way I can be."

Before he can say anything else, Nora leaned down kissing him. Sniffing once as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"You are a good man David, unconventional and just a little fucking crazy but I wouldn't change the past...I wouldn't change you."

There wasn't a day that went by Nora hadn't thought of what could have been, imagined what their lives would have been like had she not left Charming, had she not miscarried. Now in light of recent events she thanked God that the universe had done what it had, Nora felt comfort in the notion their baby was in Heaven, never to know disappointment or pain.

Kissing him again she lingered, drawing it out.

"There's nothing in this world I love more than you. Remember that David...Always remember that."