Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story.

Chapter 44

She probably shouldn't have been driving…Joss was still not herself, felt like some unseen and unknown force was going to make her turn the wheel sharply and suddenly, and she'd go flying off the road at seventy miles an hour…but she fought to keep her focus. Opie…kill Opie…win Tig back! She had a vague memory of realizing that she didn't want to kill Opie earlier…earlier wasn't now…Joss really wasn't aware of what time it was, what day it was, or how long she'd even been driving…but now, she had no feelings or qualms about killing Opie, none at all. She was just going to do it, in front of Tig, so he'd know. God, if she lost Tig…

No, she was doing it again, thinking negatively about something, feeding it with her fear and bad energies, and if she wasn't careful, it would bloom into some giant monster that would swallow her whole. Opie, kill Opie…win back her man, it was that simple. It was the only reason she existed now, Joss was an automaton; kill Opie, win back Tig.

Her recognition was slow, but things were gradually beginning to look familiar. Shit, she could have sworn she was at least halfway to the logging camp, but no. She was only just now coming up on the garage and clubhouse…it didn't seem possible, but it obviously was. Just because it felt like she'd been driving for twenty minutes didn't mean she had been…she wasn't even aware of how long she'd laid like a petrified tree on the bathroom floor, or how long it had taken her to blow the door off of the hinges. All she was sure of was that it was dark now, and the green digital lighted numbers of her clock in the Explorer reported that it was after ten o'clock. Fuck! What if everything had already gone down? What if she'd missed the only chance she had to make this right?

And something wasn't right though, but this time it wasn't with all the crossed wires in Joss's head, but it was with the way the clubhouse just…looked to her as she drove past. There were two bikes on the lot, nearest the building, but there was also a lone black sedan that Joss had never seen before. What was that? Who was that? The Explorer screeched to a halt in the middle of the street, Joss for a moment assuming she'd been hit by an oncoming vehicle, but realizing that she was standing on her brake, and the truck had stopped under her own power. And now she sat back and watched as her hands turned the steering wheel, some part of her in control of her body while yet another hovered above and looked on, unable to fathom what would happen next. It was like the truck drove itself, but she could feel her foot on the accelerator and her hands making the turns, but how or why, Joss had no comprehension of. The engine revved and Joss watched out the driver's side window as the clubhouse reappeared, the Explorer slowing and pulling onto the garage lot as if by remote control. Even as she was so…separated from herself, Joss knew not to park anywhere near the clubhouse…if something was going on that wasn't right, why announce her presence?

The truck kept driving, all the way around to the back of Teller-Morrow Automotive, finally stopping amongst the repos and break downs hauled in by the tow truck and flatbed. She'd have to walk all the way over to the clubhouse, but at least no one would know another vehicle had arrived. And at least she had her Glock. Wow…she'd been shocked to find it still in her closet, wrapped up with a black bandana and buried in an old make up case; she'd been certain that if Tig had gone as far as to lock her inside the bathroom, he'd have likely taken her gun too. But no, he must not have counted on her waking up, or getting out. Poor guy…she was a genius, he just didn't know quite the lengths of what he was dealing with there…he also didn't know that they were going to need a new hallway door for the bathroom…and a new doorframe…and some replacement drywall inside and outside of the bathroom…but the house as a whole was intact! Well, hopefully that would all matter to him, if it did, then it meant she and her man were fine, that he still loved her, that he understood that she'd never hurt him like that, that she loved him far deeper than even Joss herself understood.

It was a fairly long walk from the garage to the clubhouse, at least, it had always felt like it was when she and the girls hiked over to the lady's room at parties, but Joss suddenly found herself on the dark parking lot, frozen in front of two S.O.A. bikes, one of them Tig's. It was like some strange mirage that she had to touch to make sure it was even real, smoothing her fingers over the fuel tank painted flat black, tracing the letters S.O.A., her eyes following along the snaking exhaust pipe with its distinctive matte black finish. There had never been any frills, no extra-attention getters, on Tig's bike; just pristine darkness. Tig…she felt herself start to tremble and want to cry, this was as close to him as she'd been for…she didn't know how long, and what if it was as close to him as she'd ever be again? She reached out, touching the throttle, remembering how his hand, bearing all his rings, had always looked while gripping it, remembering how he had always looked better on a bike than any other man she'd ever seen. Tig…Shit! His bike shouldn't be here if none of the others were! He shouldn't be here!

Chapter 44; Part 2

"Dorms are secure," Opie reported, gun at his side as he returned to the main room of the clubhouse, Tig stopping in front of the pool table, on his way to search the chapel, just incase. He'd hoped to be done scoping out everything before Opie returned from searching the dorms, it would have been the perfect place to tap him; Opie searching Tig's old dorm, forever. But no, Tig had missed that window, but he wasn't as angry with himself as he perhaps he should have been. He couldn't help it, there was some greater sense of something not being okay in here tonight, and it wouldn't go away, no matter how much nothing their search was turning up. He'd have blamed his worry over Joss's condition and how she'd be when and if she came out of it, but he was now well acquainted with the taste of that fear, and this was not it. Something was wrong in the clubhouse, and until he and Opie found out what, Opie got to live.

"Look again!" Tig ordered gruffly, Opie's earlier assurance only serving to key him up even more. He turned back towards the chapel, looking at everything, the bar, the ceiling, the walls. "I'm telling you, something ain't good here, man…"

"What are you basing that on?" Instead of moving out, Opie stood there asking stupid fucking questions; god damn pussies that had never paid their dues in the military…they had no idea how to give orders, and even worse, had no idea how to take orders either! Tig didn't need this, and he couldn't deal with it either, something wasn't right, and it may have been beneficial to have someone to back him up as he tried to determine what was haunting this clubhouse tonight, but there was just no fucking way this was going to last any longer than it already had. Opie had been harassing his Joss, had been scaring her so badly that she felt like she couldn't even tell the man that owned her about what was going on. He'd tried to take away what was Tig's by making Tig the one who would forever deprive himself of the girl he loved. Opie had tried to hurt Joss, and Tig had sworn that he'd never let anyone hurt her ever again…and he wouldn't. Opie…he'd fucking kill Opie…and now was as good a time as any. Tig straightened a bit more, held the Taurus more firmly, pivoting around with the gun cocked, the end sight square on Opie's forehead, his finger on the trigger, pulling back with even pressure, waiting to be surprised by the gun going off…and then he was.

The Taurus dropped from his hand a split second after a cinder block seemed to have been hurled against his shoulder, followed by an unbelievable burning sensation that seemed to rip all the skin right off of his entire arm, taking Joss's bite mark with it. He could still feel his hand, his forearm, but there was nothing but smoldering, penetrating hell from his shoulder to his elbow, and blood ran like water from a faucet. Holy fuck…how had Opie gotten off that shot? He'd never even seen the motherfucker raise his gun.

"No," A woman was speaking, her voice calm and smug, she was coming up from behind Opie, who had thrown down his own gun and raised his hands. Tig in his mix of pain and surprise could only focus on the sensible low heeled shoe and linen slacks, but he knew who was wearing them. June fucking Stahl! "That's not Opie's bullet in your shoulder, Tigger." She said with a sarcastic grimace, holding a gun on both he and Opie, directing them over into the same vicinity. "Sorry, but things weren't looking very friendly between the two of you, and I need both of you alive."

Fuck! Why in hell was it that just when it seemed like things couldn't get any worse, they just got fucking worse? At least the bullet wound in his shoulder was beginning to lessen in the way it made his arm spastically throb, it was only a flesh wound, Tig could feel that now, but shit…flesh wounds still burned like Satan's finger shoved up the ass! Jesus Christ…Joss…Tig just wanted Joss…he had to get to her, fuck Stahl, and fuck Opie…if he was about to be hauled off to federal prison for the rest of his life, he had to see Joss one more time, and tell her one more thing. Maybe the others would show up? Maybe Jax would actually earn some value tonight and track Stahl back to here? Fuck! Damn it! Joss…was she okay?

"Now," Stahl sighed and leaned against the bar behind her, she looked a bit frazzled herself, held her forehead in her hand for a brief second as the other gripped her weapon, that Tig noticed, was not any standard issue he'd ever seen…shit…this really was fucked up! "I may never know how successful my career could be because the Sons of Anarchy are always finding a way to make me look a little worse in the eyes of my superiors each time I get close to nailing you guys," she said, her voice calm, but her eyes bulging with her frustration and anger. "Don't ask me how I knew, but wouldn't you know I just did? I lose a van full of VIP's, and I thought, 'I bet I know where to look for them!'" Stahl said as if she were recommending a new product to a desperate friend. "So, since I have you two 'brothers' here, alone and unarmed, I'm going to ask about what happened to my two agents driving my three informants to the safe house…I looked up from a phone call, and poof, they were just gone."

Opie…Tig would fucking kill him, but the boy had balls, and could think on his feet, glaring at Stahl and saying, "I think we're going to have to see a warrant." It was a good bit of formality to remind Stahl of, but it was a stupid statement to make…obviously Opie hadn't noticed the gun in Stahl's hands, a weapon other than the one issued to her by the ATF…whatever happened here tonight was "off the record." Fuck…Tig's eyes closed for a moment, trying to think of something to do, but he was feeling a little weak now from the blood trickling down his arm. Joss…how would she get out of the bathroom now? How'd she ever know he believed her about Opie? How'd she ever know that Tig loved her?

Stahl laughed, sounding so tired and exhausted with the shit she knew she was already in with her bosses. "Well, I'm afraid there isn't one," she admitted, but then sighed. "But, that's not the way we do things around here in the kingdom of SAMCRO, now is it? So, let's not get shitty about the details," she said with her usual arrogant nonchalant-ness. Then she stood up straight again, stalwartly, widened her stance and held her gun out at both of them perfectly still and much more level. "I don't' need a warrant. I just need you to tell me where my van is, and after that, I don't need either one of you!"

Chapter 44; Part 3

Joss's body was running along while her mind seemed to be outside of it, looking down and observing how her feet and legs had sprinted around to the back of the clubhouse, stopping at the first thankfully open window into one of the dorms she'd come to. She had no idea what it was she'd just seen through the cracked open clubhouse door…she had no idea who that redhaired bitch was, but she knew she'd shot Tig, and was promising to finish it. Like hell! She had her Glock, Tig had left it…but when she'd reached for it in the pocket of her jeans, ready to line up the perfect shot into that redhaired bitch's temple, Joss had made a horrifying discovery. Yes, Joss had a gun…Tig had locked her in the bathroom, had cut off all of her fingernails and had also removed anything like razor blades or even the towels and dental floss that she might have been able to hang herself with, but he'd left her gun…that hadn't made sense…until now…Tig may have not confiscated her gun, but he had taken her clip! How fucking stupid was Joss? How fucking useless was her IQ? She could make a bomb from drain clog remover and a door hinge, but she didn't think to check her weapon for its magazine? Jesus Christ!

And from that point on, she was once again on autopilot. The end sight of the Glock worked well to slice the window screen, Joss not knowing exactly what she was going to do, but she knew she just had to get into the clubhouse, and now her body was wriggling through the small window, her legs kicking as they tried to find the floor below her in the darkness of the room as she struggled not to fall and make any noises that may draw the attention of the gun toting, Tig wounding, redhaired bitch. No one shot her man and lived, no one! But what the fuck was she going to do, short of run in there shouting to Tig that she'd love him forever, in time to be blown away at his side?

Finally her foot hit something as she dangled from the window, but it was so dark in the door that not even her hovering mind's eye could see what the fuck it was, but it wasn't the floor. Christ…she couldn't have thought to maybe grab a flashlight and check for her ammunition? But then somehow she saw her feet standing on something chest like, flat on the top, and heavy. It seemed willing to take her weight, so Joss dropped down onto it, stepping off quickly incase it suddenly gave in. Whatever it was gave a slight rattle as she did, and it had seemed like the loudest sound ever made in the world. She froze, so sure that was it, everyone would know she was here, her heart pounding so hard and so fast in her ears she would have sworn the blood vessels in them had ruptured. But nothing happened, no one came to investigate. Thank you Jesus…but what did she do next?