I guess the SoA stories simply do not get a huge audience, but I still feel this story might be worth telling, so I'll just keep on going for now . To the anonymous reviewer who told me that SoA is based on Hamlet: I know Sutter has stated that it is and so I am prepared for a tragic ending for many more of the characters I've grown to love over the years. This however is not my attempt at writing the actual 7th season. I guess it's more of my dream of how things should be for one of my favorite fictional characters of all times.

Anyways, as always, hope you'll enjoy!

PS I still don't own a thing, except for the idea for this storyline.

Chapter 3 First things first

"Mr Teller, you've just spent 5 years in prison, of course you sound convincing enough for me to believe that, when you say you are ready to move on, you really do feel that you are. But I've been in this line of work for 23 years, and I have hardly ever heard anyone proclaim anything else. Unfortunately in most cases, within a few months, they relapse into their old ways, and within a year, they are right back in prison. And that's why I cannot, at this point, even begin to help you get your sons back. You will have to prove to us that you really, truly are successfully making a new start in life. Our service will be receiving monthly reports from your parole officer. I suggest you make sure he never has to report anything negative about you. We will meet again in 3 months, to see where you're at, and possibly arrange for you to be allowed to spend an afternoon with your sons."

Although this isn't unexpected at all, I'm still upset by the idea of not being allowed to get custody of my own children for this much longer. In a quiet, concerned voice I ask how Abel and Thomas are doing. "Obviously they had a rough time settling into their temporary new life. Abel had a lot of nightmares which would have him wake up in the middle of the night, screaming for his mom. And although Thomas was very young, he picked up on Thomas' angst. He stopped eating for a while, and the only person he would accept food from, was his own brother. The two of them, even today, are glued to the hip. They are very close, and although Thomas really has no memory of you or his mother, Abel does remember fragments, and tells him about you both, and about their uncles with the supercool bikes. ".

In time, they will find out what happened to their mom, and who was responsible for it, but I do not want my kids to grow up traumatized. Knowing that the few memories they have involve the word 'supercool', takes away some of that concern.

"Alright, I guess there's not much else to discuss for now then. I will schedule a new appointment at the frontdesk, for in 3 months, and will see you then."

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Knowing what my goal is enables me to keep my cool. I know I fucked up, that my past actions have put me where I am today. I'm also aware that in a way I'm lucky to be a free man, hell I'm even lucky to be alive. Prison had been hard, at first. I was so consumed with grief and anger that I kept getting into trouble, and got my ass landed in isolation more than just a few times. Somehow though, after about a year, I started to realize that I was the only one who could take charge of my own life. If I wanted to make things right, or at least better for myself, I had to get out of this deadly spiral, and rise above it. I asked a counselor for advice and was told: "If you want to better yourself, you'll have to start caring for yourself. Eat well. Get your sleep. Stay out of trouble. Work out. Working out doesn't just keep your body healthy, it also works wonders on your mind, Mister Teller." And so I did. Before we would be woken by the guards, I would have already done my round of stretches, squats and push- and pull ups. During recess, I would join a bunch of guys that actually used that time to either do some laps around the grounds, or shoot some hoops. The effects were almost instant. My head started clearing up. I grew more confident about myself, but also less angry at the world. The other inmates tried to lure me out of focus for a while but I was too determined to let them succeed.

During another meeting with that same counselor, we spoke about what my plans were, how would I make my living? The only option in my mind at that point was to go back to being a mechanic. Teller-Morrow had never been reopened properly after the explosion, and all the shit that happened after that, but seen as it was my only 'skill' at that point in my life, it made sense. But it didn't take me a very long time of contemplating to realize that I needed a clean break. I'd need something new and something completely different from my past job. Something that wouldn't lead me straight back into the life, and back at the table with the Sons of Anarchy. They were all I had, and all I knew. As I'd seen with Opie when he tried to get out of the life, sticking around the shop simply seemed to be a shortcut back to jail. After that realization, I had started taking courses to expand my knowledge. Bookkeeping, computer skills, but also some courses about coaching people and about getting and maintaining a healthy body and mind. Even if I ended up not using it, out here, it would show that I had been eager to move onto a new path in my life.

Before I could finally start looking for new opportunities though, there was something I really had to take care of, and it couldn't wait. I got in my car and drove the road I had taken a million times in the past, ever since I could remember, even when my pop was still with us. I used to be all excited with anticipation going this way, when I was a little boy. Now though, I had a knot in my stomach as I got closer. I parked my car and took a deep breath and mumbled "Right, here we go".

Author's note:

Ok, leaving you with a bit of a cliffhanger. Can you guess what happens next?

Also, I promise we'll get to positive new stuff and hopefully an OC or 2 soon, but with all his history, of course Jax has some stuff to deal with before really moving on.. hope you can bear with me for a bit longer!