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 45

Joss could hear the voices in the main clubhouse as she sat in the dark dorm, trying to think, but mostly sitting there on the floor, her legs folded beneath her and her arms crossed over her chest as she rocked back and forth, breathing hard...she had to do something…she had to save her man, but that was as far as she could make herself think. She could hear his voice and he was sounding like that wound was getting to him, like he didn't have much left. Oh God…he couldn't be bleeding out, he couldn't be injured that badly! She'd been standing there by Tig's bike when she'd heard the gun shot, and before she knew it, she was crouched behind the slightly open clubhouse door, peering in at what was happening…and there was Tig, with blood gushing from his shoulder, all over the blue shirt she'd always loved him in. Why? Opie was in there too, also held at gunpoint, but Joss couldn't even really see him though there was no way to not see him standing there next to Tig…Opie didn't exist for her any longer…this was all about Tig…she thought only of Tig…she loved Tig, fuck the rest of the world! It had been so hard not to run to him then, and part of Joss still wasn't entirely sure that she hadn't…her mind…her head…her thoughts…everything was still so fucked up. She was moving through this in sequences, like reading the chapters of a book, finishing one and moving to another, but never really understanding what would be next.

But the more weakness she heard in Tig's voice, the more she felt herself unraveling…he'd always been her strength she didn't know she had, and now she was losing him…sitting here rocking on the floor, trying to tuck into a ball…her mind racing with the echoes of everything Tig had ever said to her…"get your game face on," "stop doing this shit you're doing," "look at me," he was her strength after all…she had to try to plug into that somehow.

She wasn't sure how she was seeing it, but it didn't feel like she watched with her eyes, but she saw her head lift up and saw herself staring at the sturdy metal box she'd stood upon when sliding in through the dorm window. It was a toolbox, she recognized it now; and judging by the earlier rattle, it wasn't empty. But what good was it? She knew nothing about automotive repair, and even if she did, fucking up that black sedan that had to belong to rehaired bitch wasn't exactly the save she needed to pull off. But she must have really been fucked up in the head, because next she saw her hands clutching the toolbox as she stopped her rocking and moved closer to it, unlatching the two flip type of buckles on the front and opening it. It was dark, and the only way to really tell what was in there was to feel her way around, her hands gripping something heavy and long with a rounded cup type of piece on one end that turned…a socket wrench, "it had interchangeable pieces to fit a variety of nuts and bolts." Tig had made her memorize the wrenches one day, she'd never understood why, but at least right now, this box of useless tools gave her something to focus on, made her stop the incessant rocking, made some kind of logical thoughts bloom in her head, and there was some comfort in that alone.

She carefully set the socket wrench down and picked up something else, smaller than the socket wrench, one solid piece of metal, a Hex Key Wrench, "It's little and 'L' shaped so you can work in tight spaces that you can't always jam a bigger wrench into." Again, she set the tool down carefully, picking up the next one…but she needed both hands to do so…the Crescent Wrench…"it was adjustable"…but there was something else about it she was supposed to remember…and it was very important, but strange…what was it...Tig had been so afraid she'd forgotten the most important thing he'd told her…the Crescent Wrench…"It's really fucking heavy, so don't make me hit you with it."

Chapter 45; Part 2

For a moment Tig thought he'd seen something move, creeping behind the bar from out of the darkness of the hallway leading back towards the dormitories, but he couldn't trust his vision…for a flesh wound his shoulder was still bleeding pretty good, and it was either blood loss, or just the way his fucked up mind coped with things, but twice now everything had gone dark, but had gotten louder, even though Tig knew nothing had changed whatsoever. Stahl was still demanding information, Opie still feeding her a line of bullshit; he knew Stahl…sort of, he must have had some kind of way with her, because everything that came out of Opie's mouth kept the bitch going for a while as Tig stood there in silence, trying to think, trying to not let this be it…he had Joss to live for, at least, if she still wanted him. But he couldn't think of her heartbreak right now or his own…but what if what they'd had was shattered anyway, what if it would never go back together the way it was? No, this wasn't helping the immediate situation, there was gun on him, and the person holding it meant to use it and already had. But still, he'd thought he saw something crawl quickly and silently back behind the bar…something on all fours, wearing biker boots. Jax, Chibs, Happy…it had to be them, they had tracked Stahl to the clubhouse…but why hadn't anyone reacted to the sound of the bikes pulling up?

"Alright fellas," Stahl sighed; now figuring out that Opie had been playing her. "I know it wasn't the Mayans who took my van," she said. "Great story, and great plan, but what self respecting outlaw biker commits a crime while wearing his colors?"

Opie glanced over at Tig like tagging him in, that was obviously Opie's best stuff and he was out…they had all worn cuts and colors won from the Mayans over the last few years, but Stahl was right, no MC identified themselves when breaking the law. Opie had tried, Opie had been in this much more than Tig would have figured he'd be, expecting more that Opie would turn this whole thing on him, offer Tig up as the sacrifice in order to get out of this, and get the club out too. But no, the bastard had tried to cover for them both…god damn decent individual that he was…who, decent or not, was also trying to hurt Joss! Joss…how long would she cry over him, if she ever came out of the catatonia, and if she still cared…if she did come out, and she did care, then this might throw her right back into it again…she'd either spend the rest of her life in a padded room, or die there on the bathroom floor…never eating or drinking, and slowly wasting away. How would Tig find her if it did end that way? What were the chances that they'd end up in the same eternity?

"Tigger, you've been awfully quiet this evening," Stahl said, turning to him and sounding as though she was so very concerned about him, which of course she wasn't, and it made Tig grind his teeth with his want to rush her and rip her head off, but he didn't…but maybe he should have? He was dead anyway. "Is there anything in your compadre's story that you can maybe clear up for me?" She asked, and then…there was a swoosh, something gleaming and silver flying downwards against Stahl's head with a bang-crunch, a loud crisp sound like a million stalks of celery being snapped. Blood, it ran down over one of Stahl's eyes, her expression sank into idiocy, but she was turning, trying to look at what had struck her, but before she could, she dropped her gun and fell to the floor in a floundering heap. What the fuck?

Stahl's body falling was like a curtain going up, revealing his Joss, who had jumped up on the bar now, a Crescent Wrench in her hands, she didn't look at Tig, didn't look at Opie, didn't look at anything but Stahl, who still wiggled and jiggled there on the floor in uncontrollable spasms, but Tig could see there was a look on Joss's face that he by now knew very well. She jumped down off of the bar, standing over Stahl, looking down at her with those glowing green eyes, exhaled lowly, and then came forth the awful, angry screeching and wailing, the babbling of incomprehensible words at the highest human pitch there was spewing from Joss's mouth as she raised the Crescent Wrench again with both hands, bringing it down on Stahl's head once more, pausing in her screeches and wails at yet another crunch of bone, breathing in through her mouth, between clenched teeth, one of Stahl's eyes now depressed into her botched up head, but Joss wasn't done. She screeched again, held the wrench all the way over her frizzy black hair and slammed it down again, Stahl's blood splattering all over her, but that only seemed to make her angrier, and now there was no stopping her, Joss working like a machine, swinging that wrench into Stahl's head and face again and again, while both Tig and Opie looked on in complete, but thankful, shock.

And here came the cavalry, not just Jax, Chibs and Happy, but the entire club was coming home to roost, probably because there was no sign of Stahl anywhere on the road, and Tig and Opie had never gotten the chance to call Clay and let him know the clubhouse was secure…which it was…now, thanks to Joss. Tig's first thought was to get her to stop, to try to settler her down before any of his brothers hit the door…but he also knew there was no stopping her…she'd already done some sizeable damage to his forearm with only her teeth, and now he had a gunshot wound in the same shoulder, and Joss had a Crescent Wrench…there'd be no getting control of her. But fuck…how was he ever going to explain this to everyone when they saw it? They all thought she was such a sweet girl…everyone always said to him, "that's a nice girl," as soon as Joss would leave Tig with a smile and a kiss, then walk off to do whatever it was he'd said she could go do. But this…spider monkey with a club…it was liable to change some minds…it was too late to do anything about it now…Tig couldn't stop her, and even Opie who was all about getting in Stahl's face with a bullshit story, was just standing there petrified and looking on…Clay, Jax and all the rest of everyone announcing themselves at the clubhouse door, guns drawn, in response to all the screeching and the bashing sounds.

"Uh," Opie stammered, unable to take his eyes off the mess at the bar…both Joss and Stahl…whose head now resembled a taco shell, with picante sauce everywhere. "Come in…slowly."

Chapter 44; Part 3

"Baby," there was a break in Joss's actions; she stood over Stahl who was…nothing but a pulp-headed bean pole with no flower at the end now. This was the only chance Tig had to get to Joss, to try to calm her down, to tell her it was okay, that there was no more danger, that she'd taken care of it, and there was no way in hell that Stahl was going to be holding a gun on anyone here…ever again. Tig took a step towards her, the rest of the club standing behind him, some of them with looks on their faces like they didn't think this was a good idea, but they didn't know Joss, they'd never seen her like this before, but Tig had…and he knew his opening would come when her little body got tired, and she'd have to stop to at least take a breath. And that she had…covered in blood and bone fragments and bits of skin and probably Stahl's brain too…Christ, that was likely never coming out of the carpet, but Tig pushed the thought aside, still approaching Joss, who finally looked at him like she didn't understand his being here, or where he could have come from. Yeah, he could have looked at her the same way, but how she'd escaped from the bathroom fortress and gotten in here with a Crescent Wrench was a thought that would have to wait. She wasn't catatonic anymore, but the girl still wasn't right. "Joss, it's okay," he told her about three feet away from her now and his voice as soft and soothing as Tig could make it. "Come here," he told her, beckoning over to himself, and he saw Joss shake her head a little, like someone banging on an old TV set with the picture doing that spazzed out horizontal hold thing televisions used to sometimes do. "It's okay. You know I won't let anyone hurt you."

Joss drew another ragged breath, looking at Tig, her green eyes on his, the glow beginning to fade, her face streaked with blood. She dropped the wrench as something from within began to rush through her, a sudden injection of reality that slammed her back to here and now. And then there were tears, so many so quickly that most of the blood and other debris was washed from her face before she was even in Tig's arms. He held her so tightly, his eyes closed as he picked her up off the ground and just crushed her to him, ignoring the searing pain in his shoulder and his forearm, and the fact that the mess all over Joss was getting all over him. It didn't matter, Joss was back, and had run to his arms, ran to him for protection from what she felt!

She shook and cried and panted like a dog, but drew another breath, focused the energy she had and tried to look up at him. "I love y—" she began to say as Tig turned his head to press a kiss beside her weeping eye, but then suddenly she was quiet…and stiff…frozen in time….again.

"No!" Tig bellowed, but he knew it wouldn't do any good…she was gone, trapped inside her shattered self one more time. "Joss," still he called to her, turning around and leaning her up against the wall, grabbing her face with both his hands and trying to tip her chin up to him, but the Counterhold only made Joss pull away from his hands and look downwards. "Jocelyn!" Tig yelled, and now his brothers were crowding around, asking a million questions,"is she okay?" "what happened?" "what the fuck is all of this?" But Tig ignored them, focused on Joss, looking at her eyes, and noticing that they not only watched him, but also moved still…she wasn't all the way gone! "Joss, c'mon, baby, look at me," he urged her, leaning closer to her, his nose practically touching hers, he had to get through to her, he just had to! Two catatonic states in less than twenty-four hours didn't bode well for her. "C'mon Joss," Tig shouted at her now, taking her by the shoulders and giving her a shake. "Don't go back there, baby, stay with me! Please!"

The tension in Joss's muscles began to slowly give and she slid down the wall into a sitting position, Tig dropping down with her, trying to hold her up from becoming a lifeless puddle on the floor. "Joss," he was saying again, more desperate this time. "I know you're in there, baby," he said, shaking his head and shaking her again. "Come on out, come back to me, angel, I need you!"

"Yeah, come on, Joss!" Tig suddenly noticed that someone else had crouched down beside him, also leaning towards Joss. Opie! What the fuck? He was the last person Tig wanted anywhere near his Joss right now, but at this moment, Tig's hands were also mentally tied. He couldn't tell Opie to fuck off, and pull Joss back into this world at the same time. It was one or the other, and Joss won…she'd always win. Opie looked at her, right in her feverish green eyes. "We all need you, Joss. Fight your way outta there!"

Joss's eyes drifted to Opie for a moment, then back to Tig, but it was still the only part of her that moved, "C'mon, baby," Tig begged now, shaking her again. "Don't leave me," he told her, hoping the tears in his eyes weren't that evident, "look at me, I'm right here, come to me."

All of a sudden it was rather crowded, and there were a number voices surrounding her and Tig, the entire club, apparently not thinking less of Joss at all, and forgetting Stahl and her wrench mashed head, and instead gathering around, watching Joss, trying to get her attention, to make her eyes focus on snapping fingers or clapping hands, her name being called again and again by everyone, all of them telling her to "come back," and "fight," and "don't give up."

It was the last thing Tig had expected, and even though Joss still hovered between here and now and there and then, he immediately felt more centered and in control of things. He had the support of his club, and so did his old lady. "C'mon, Joss," he told her, looking into her eyes again and nodding his head. "You can do this; you know how this property thing works, baby! I tell you to do something; you do it! So you get the fuck back here, now!"

With what seemed like a strike of lightning, Joss leaped back into herself, eyes opening wide, sucking in a long, deep, hoarse breath of air and sitting away from the wall chest first, slamming herself back against it as she gasped, shaking herself and making full on and controlled eye contact with Tig, turning her head to look up at the rest of his brothers, who immediately recognized that she was in control of herself again and let loose with a chorus of grunting cheers. Joss's mouth opened and she tried to speak, but not all her circuits were quite connected yet, she had no ability to make her voice work, and she looked at Tig apologetically and so confused, trying again to say something, anything, but still nothing would come out. She was mute, but she was also looking around at everyone, and comprehending where she was and who they were!

"It's okay," Tig was saying to her softly, able to take both of her bloody, grimy hands now and hold them without the Counterhold pulling them back from his grasp. She wasn't one hundred percent yet, but she was Joss again! Tig sighed and then immediately began to laugh, never having felt quite what he felt now. Joss was back, he'd called her and she'd come, and before it all went down, she'd said she loved him. Fuck! Since he'd met that damn girl he'd been running from those words, and now, they were an audible paradise that had pulled him back from his own edge. The devil be damned, but she was still his, and he was going to keep her forever, and give her whatever the fuck he might even suspect she wanted…he'd make sure her manicure got fixed, every finger, every letter of his name, he'd let the chipmunks steal all his screws off of the workbench if it made her laugh, he would find her that crazy thoroughbred, one that could jump, he would get her another gun with the highest quality scope they made…but it all just didn't seem like it was enough. What could he do to show her how much she meant to him? That he loved her and that he would forever? There was still some shit to be worked out, but he and Joss were going to be fine. He knew that. "You just rest, get your shit together a little more, we'll talk later."

Joss managed to nod, then raised a shaky hand as her eyes settled on the blood drying all over his arm, her eyes following the paths of the scratches on his cheek and his neck…tears appearing in her eyes, knowing they could have only come from one place, and the thought of it, or perhaps the memory, gave her some kind of excess energy now, and she was rocking back and forth, her head beginning to bang into the paneling behind it so hard that Tig feared she might injure herself by busting a hole in the wall. He had to settle this; she had enough of ways back still, and if this were the manifestation of some confused attempt at self punishment that Joss felt she was due, Tig wouldn't allow it, she didn't deserve it. "Joss, I'm okay," he promised her, quickly reaching out to cup his hand around the back of her head and cushion it as it hit the paneling, but his hand collided with something, Opie's hand; reaching over to look out for Joss the same way.