The Heart of a Broken Soul
Of Notes and Secrets
A/N- to Venetiangrl92, medousaki, Well I Don't Mind, liiddee, and Sarahsoa. I literally live for your reviews. There wouldn't be a story without you wonderful people :)
Gabby fiddled with the glass angel, frowning. Filip had insisted that Gemma had insisted it had been sent as it was. No note, no return address, nothing. Almost as though it had fallen out of the sky, and directly into Gemma's lap. Gabby had her doubts, but what could she do?
Gemma was the queen of knowledge. She knew what she wanted, and kept knowledge from who she wanted. If she didn't want anyone finding out about the origins of this present, no way, no how was anyone going to find out.
She'd spent a week pressing Filip and Gemma and anyone else who came in her room for information, and each time had received nothing. Gemma was keeping a tight lid on this one.
The door swung open as a chubby nurse with curly hair waddled in, carrying a tray of food. When she looked up at Gabby, she smiled. Not one of those fake, 'I have to do this otherwise I'll get fired' smiles; it was a genuine, warm smile. "How are you feeling?" she asked, placing the tray on the table.
Gabby shrugged. "Alright." She returned the smile, if only to be polite.
"There are some painkillers to take with the food. The doctor thinks you might even be able to go home early if the pain stays manageable. That's good news."
"Yeah, I guess." With a sigh, Gabby picked up her fork and started poking the food. Roast lamb and vegetables. The lamb was dry and the vegetables were overcooked.
"You know, many women are told they can never have children, and they go on to-"
Gabby cut the nurse short. "I don't want to hear it. Every single time someone comes in here they tell me that, and I don't really believe it." She stabbed the potato viciously. "Whenever something goes right in my life, there's always something around the corner, waiting to go wrong."
The nurse's smile faded, and was replaced by the look of pity that was all-too-common around Gabby. "I'm sorry," was all she said before she left the room.
Gabby stared bitterly at the food. She tried so hard not to think about that, and everyone seemed insistent on reminding her. She didn't want to be reminded or pitied, didn't want everyone to look at her sadly and say how they were so sorry. Sorry for what? What did they do to her that they needed to apologise for? What in God's name did Piney do that was so bad he could barely even manage an apology, let alone hold back tears as he blubbered something about her father?
No, this had all been caused by Jeremy. Gabby lost her family four years ago and now, thanks to Jeremy, she'd lost her ability to have her own family. The same Jeremy whose mother had found dead in their house, bled out and rotting not 24 hours ago. According to her, she'd gone away on a business trip, came back, and there he was, staining her snowy carpet red. No witnesses, no leads, and yet Gabby knew who had done it.
She hadn't spoken to any of the boys yet – they hadn't been around – but she knew it had been them. Gabby was torn. She knew that the boys weren't saints, knew they'd probably all had their fair share of murder, and she was grateful and touched that they'd done it for her. But she felt sick when she thought of, like she did whenever she remembered she was basically infertile.
What if they were caught? What if the police thought Gabby had something to do with it, or knew something about it? She would never rat. Never. But the police could be tricky, extortionists, and Gabby didn't trust herself to not let something slip, accidentally or otherwise.
She left the food untouched, and instead decided to go for a walk. Technically she wasn't allowed to leave the room unsupervised. The doctors insisted on having someone walk alongside her if she so much as sneezed, and not just in case she couldn't handle the pain or spontaneously collapsed or something; they were afraid that she'd leave the hospital.
It was tempting for her. She was sick of them lecturing her about the lining of her uterus and other women's uteri, and Gabby was more than ready to never hear another word about faeces moving through her intestines and how the acids and mucus in there was more likely to kill her than blood loss or anything else.
If anyone ever had an issue with their bowel movements, Gabby was the person to go to.
The hospital was, as hospitals usually were, hectic. It reminded Gabby of the diner. She felt a pang of sadness when she thought about the diner. As loathe as she was to admit it, she missed it. The people, even the rude ones, and Charlie and Jocelyn. It made her feel that maybe she wasn't as isolated from the world as she thought.
"This is crazy."
"Is it, now?"
"It's more than crazy. Darby's already pissed at us for offin' his scapegoat. Now you wanna start a war?"
Clay rubbed his hands together, cracking his knuckles one by one. He waited for someone else to speak, but no one did. They were all waiting on him. "One of our women is in hospital, because Darby decided he wanted to sell his meth and crank in my town. He started this war, not us."
There was a murmur of agreement. Filip stared blankly. Jeremy might have unintentionally stabbed Gabby, but he would have known the shit he'd stir up between Darby and the SOA if she'd agreed to help. Due to the turn of events, however, he'd reopened an old wound that Clay and the boys had spent years stitching.
Jeremy, it seemed, had been partially full of shit. He didn't want Gabby to help save his life. He'd wanted her to help get Darby off his back, because Darby wasn't stupid, wasn't going to go kill the boy. If Jeremy was dead, what happened to the money owed? He didn't get it.
Darby was going to use Jeremy to sell more drugs, and all of the profit would go directly to him. Maybe then he'd kill the boy. Just maybe.
Unfortunately, Jeremy was dead, courtesy of the Sons of Anarchy.
Even more regrettably, Darby still wanted his money.
And if that wasn't bad enough, Clay flat out refused to pay. No, he wanted to go to war. He wanted Darby's head on a stick.
Bobby sighed. "I understand that – we all do – but why don't we just give him the money, come to some sort of compromise?"
"We need to send a message."
"We sent a message when we killed that boy," Bobby insisted.
Clay glared at him. "We didn't send a message, we got revenge."
"If we just-"
"Let's vote it. We send Darby a message, in his town. We find his labs, put on a light show. Yay."
Tig nodded. "Yay."
Fillip considered it. Darby was a prick of thing, yes, but did he really want to go to war? "Nay." Bobby was right; they'd gotten Jeremy.
Bobby nodded at him from the other side of the table, as both Opie and Piney gave an 'aye'.
"Nay," Bobby said.
Happy, their newest addition – he kept alternating between being a nomad and having a charter – gave an evil grin. They could all see the bloodlust in his eyes. "Aye!"
Juice sat silently, unable to vote – he was their current prospect, and while Clay thought him useless, Filip could see the potential. The boy was a genius.
Jax shook his head. "Nay."
"Five three. Majority wins. Darby meets the Reaper. Yay."
"Yay."
"Nay."
"Nay."
"Yay."
"Nay."
"Yay."
"Nay."
Clay sighed. "No majority, no move. We torch the meth labs." He swung the gavel with a clank, and they all filed out of the room. Filip followed Bobby outside, lighting up a smoke.
"This is some shit we've gotten ourselves into, brother," Bobby said.
"Aye, you said it. I can't believe that little shite lied to us," Filip spat.
Bobby didn't reply straight away. When he did, he seemed reluctant. "I don't think he did lie."
Filip narrowed his eyes. "What do ye mean?"
"I mean, I think he honestly believed Darby was going to kill him." He leaned closer to the Scotsman, lowering his voice. "And I think Darby was going to, but the only reason he didn't was because he was counting on us doing it."
Filip thought for a moment. His mouth opened, closed, and opened again. "Ye think he needed to give Clay an excuse to attack him?"
"I think he wanted to start a war without drawing first blood. He knew Clay would never pay the money."
Gabby enjoyed going outside. The sun on her face, the wind in her hair. She loved it. And, after spending over a week cooped up inside, laying in a hospital bed, the wind and the sun felt magical. With the hospital attire, however, she looked more like a runaway patient than a girl enjoying the weather.
Needless to say, neither Filip nor her doctor were pleased when they found her, the latter looking as though he was going to break down in tears when he clapped eyes on her. Filip stared flatly at her.
"What the hell are ye doin' out here?" he asked.
Gabby scowled. "Enjoying the elements."
He might've dragged her back in himself if she wasn't injured. As it was, he pointed at the door and glared. "Ye know ye're not allowed go anywhere by yerself, now walk. Next time I'll break ye legs."
The doctor eyed Filip nervously. "How are you feeling today?" he asked as they headed back.
"Pretty good," Gabby replied, nodding. Filip narrowed his eyes. "When can I leave?"
"Well, I need to write up a script for your antibiotics and painkillers, but after that you're free to go."
Gabby's face lit up. "Today?"
The doctor nodded. "It should only take about an hour or two."
"Ye think ye can behave until then?" Filip asked with a scowl.
"I can try," Gabby replied, grinning. The doctor left them as they made their way back to her room. She dropped onto her bed, which wasn't the best idea, as it sent a jab of pain through her abdomen. She internally winced. There was no way she was going to let on she was still in pain. She wanted out of this place. "Did Bobby feed Archibald?"
Filip blinked. "Who? Oh, the spider! I reminded him, but I don't know if he actually did it. He hates the thing almost as much as you do." He sat at the end of her bed, sighing.
Gabby crawled down the bed, slipped her arms around Filip's waist and rested he chin on his shoulder. "And Jeremy?" she asked, even though she knew the answer.
"We dealt with him," Filip answered. He ruffled her hair. "It was a mistake."
"What do you mean?"
"Darby still wants the money Jeremy owed him. From us."
Gabby huffed. "Clay won't pay him," she insisted. Clay would never get into bed with Darby; his pride wouldn't let him.
"No, he won't, which is a problem when the only other option is to go to war with him."
Gabby let her arms fall limp. This was her fault. If she had just helped Jeremy, none of it would have happened. Everyone would be alive. Everyone would stay alive, because they wouldn't have to go to war with Darby. But... war with Darby? That was ridiculous.
"Darby deals drugs, he's not like Mayans. He can't just go to war and expect to win."
Filip glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. "Ye know waaay too much about shite."
The phone rang three times before someone answered. "Hello?"
"Huh. It's been a while."
The person on the other end hesitated. "Who is this? What do you want?"
"It's the manager of Teller-Morrow," Gemma replied curtly. She took a long drag of her cigarette. "I got your package."
"I'll send someone to pick Gabby up from the airp-"
"She won't be on that plane."
There was silence. "I'm sorry?"
"You heard me. I said, she will not be on that plane. You've already done enough."
"I'm not doing this for me."
"I know. But you know where we are." Gemma dumped the phone back on the receiver. She picked the plane ticket up, grabbing it in both hands, and tearing it down the middle. She tore the two halves, again and again until there was nothing left but tiny pieces of confetti, which she dumped in the bin. She stared absently at the pieces. "You've already broken her heart once."