Disclaimer: Kurt Sutter owns any and all recognizable SOA characters and Story lines.

"I raise my flags, don my clothes

It's a revolution, I suppose

We'll paint it red to fit right in

Whoa

I'm breaking in, shaping up, then checking out on the prison bus

This is it, the apocalypse

Whoa

I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones

Enough to make my systems blow

Welcome to the new age, to the new age

Welcome to the new age, to the new age"

-Imagine Dragons "Radioactive"

Happy was struggling with what to do with his newly found information. Madie had asked him to keep it to himself, but he was concerned. He knew he seemed like a prick for fucking her and taking off. Truth was, it took all of his self-control to walk away from her. He didn't want her wrapped up in his life—it wasn't safe. He had let his body take over his brain twice, and both times he had hurt her. Now, however, he had a dilemma.

She already hated him, so telling her old man wouldn't make her hate him any more than she already did. He didn't want to get the club wrapped-up in her bullshit, but he needed to know she wasn't in any danger. He cared, despite desperately trying not to.

Hap made up his mind. He called Jax and Clay into the chapel room. They took their respective seats at the head of the table and Hap sat next to Clay, across from Jax. "I think something's up with Madeline. I saw some scars. They look fairly new. She didn't want me to say anything. I wasn't even supposed to see them, but I walked in on her changing. It was accidental."

Jax and Clay looked ready to explode. But Happy continued, "I'm pretty sure someone else did it to her—probably more than just that. Uh, the scars spelled out…" He was having a hard time saying it. "The scars spelled the word 'slut'."

Jax and Clay were both gripping the chair arms fiercely. "She asked me to keep it to myself—doesn't want her shit to fall at the club's doorstep. She's gonna be pissed when she finds out I told you, but I think she might be in danger."

Clay stood quickly, swinging the door to the chapel nearly off its hinges. "Church, now! It's mandatory."

All of the guys filed into the room wondering what the fuck was going on. Clay had Hap explain what he saw again. Every head in the room was shaking from side-to-side, ready to rip someone apart. Their girl had been hurt and someone would die for it.

Madie pulled into the parking lot at the garage. Cutting the engine for her bike, she wondered where everyone was. There was no sign of life on the lot. It was 4 in the afternoon; surely they had slept off the hangovers by now.

She made her way into the clubhouse with her clothes from storage in hand. The first face she saw was a pissed off Clay. He dropped some photos on the bar in front of her, "Wanna explain what the fuck is going on?"

Looking through the photos, she was on the brink of tears. They were the photos from the hospital documenting her injuries—close-ups of her busted face, fresh carving, and the heavy bruising her body had taken-on. "Where the fuck did you get these?" She looked ready to murder. No one said anything as she looked around the room. She yelled the next time, "Where the fuck did you find these?"

Clay spoke, "I had Juice find your records on the net." He looked angry, not at her, but that she didn't come to him when she needed help.

She had a calm yet seething aura radiating off of her, "You had no right to look into my records. I didn't come back to have my shit laid out on your club table. How did you get wind of this?"

Clay simply glanced toward Happy and Madie lunged for him. Clay and Jax wrapped her up, holding her back from their killer. "You fucking bastard! It was none of your business in the first place."

"Enough!" Clay shouted. Madie stilled and blanched out of instinct. Her motion noticed around the room. "It's out. Now, we need to hear your side of the story."

Madie had calmed a bit. "I didn't come home to bring my shit with me. I didn't want to bring it near the club either. Just let me deal on my own."

She tried to make her way toward the door, only to find Gemma guarding it. "Whether or not you meant to bring it here, it's came with you. And I'm not letting you take-off. So sit your ass down and tell us what the fuck happened."

Madie made her way to the bar; grabbing a bottle of whiskey, she sat at the bar. She needed a lot of liquor to relive her personal nightmare. "I was living in Charleston. About 4 months ago, I started seeing this guy. He seemed nice; we had a few good dates. I don't do relationships—at all. So it was about the time where I usually break it off. I was at his apartment and I told him that it was over. I didn't know that he was obsessive; I hadn't paid attention to the signs. The red flags covered the fucking field and I didn't pick up on any of them. That part was my fault. Apparently he had been watching me for a while. He has this disorder or something. He picks and object or a person and attaches feelings and shit to them. It becomes like serious fatal attraction shit—he obsesses."

She took another drink before continuing. "He wouldn't' let me leave. He tied me up, kept me for about a month and a half. I'm not gonna tell you the sick shit he did. He's a sadistic fuck, that's all you need to know. Anyway, toward the end, when I was getting to the point that I was ready to just die and get that shit over with, a nosy neighbor, God bless his soul, called the cops because he heard some screaming, mine, on a few different occasions and eventually his conscious got the better of him. I was in the hospital for two months and then I came home. The cops haven't gotten their hands on Kellin yet."

She finally looked up—all of the faces in the room looking remorseful. "I don't think he's following me here, but I don't know for sure."

Clay put his fist through the wall—damn the arthritis. Happy was feeling like shit warmed over at this point for the way he had treated her after what she had been through. He reached forward to brush his hand over her face, but her voice stopped him. "Don't fucking touch me. You're the reason my shit is on display for my entire fucking family, fuck you very much." Happy's hand retreated.

Gemma wrapped her arms around her daughter. "Don't take it out on Hp. He was just doing the right thing. We needed to hear this to help you, baby."

Looking at the guys, "I don't want this to blow back on you guys. I can handle it. I already survived him once."

Bobby was the first to speak up, "Sweetheart, you are like a daughter to me—family to all of us. We will take care you and keep you safe—whether you like it or not."

Madie was overwhelmed by every member in the room agreeing. "Sorry, Hap. I shouldn't have snapped at you." She looked weary. "I just wanna rest for a while. I have to start looking for a place tomorrow."

Before she could make it out of the room, Clay wrapped her in a tight embrace, "Baby girl, we're not gonna let him touch you. Give Juice his name so he can start running intel. Then go get some rest. We got you from here." Madeline just nodded and scratched a name on a piece of paper. She headed straight for her parent's room.

The clubhouse was silent after Madie left the room. No one knew what to say—they'd never been faced with anything like this before.

Chibs wanted to bring his idea to the group. "I know this ain't church, but I think we need to talk gameplan. She can't be alone. She won't tell us what they bastard did to her, which can only mean it was some real sick shit—nothing like we've ever seen before. She ain't safe. Someone with a compulsion like she described—he ain't just gonna let her go. And I'm just gonna put it out there—I would die to keep her safe. If no one else is in, I will take it on myself."

One at a time, each man agreed to do whatever necessary to keep her safe. Happy was last. "I will stay with her." Before anyone could interject, he continued, "I'm not gonna try to explain it to you, but I need to be there with her. I need to be able to keep eyes on her to know she's safe. Call me a pussy or whatever, but she has more meaning to me than anyone else in this room and I gotta do this. Just don't question it."

They all knew what he was saying—she cared about her like he hadn't cared about anyone before and he needed to protect what was his. Clay nodded. "I trust you, brother."

With that, Happy made his way up the stairs to the dorm. He found Madeline lying on her side on the bed crying. He lay behind her and pulled her close to his chest.

Madie looked up at him, "You don't have to do this, Hap. I don't need your pity."

Hap just hugged her closer. "This ain't pity."

Every instinct Madeline held inside her body was screaming at her to shift away from Happy—that she doesn't do this shit. But at that moment, she had been put through the ringer and had all of her shit exposed. It was like being laid out on the table and having all of her issues poked and prodded—it was exhausting. And she needed some small amount of comfort. She could hate herself for a moment of weakness in the morning.

AN: I think I need some lemony goodness in the next chapter. Hold on, guys, shit's getting good!