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 47

Joss had never really noticed just how much bigger Tig's hands were than her own, but then, they'd never laid together like this, in bed, her head on his chest and the palm of her hand pressed to the palm of his as they talked about the garage schedule on Monday, about how she used honey instead of sugar in most everything she ate, about how Tig needed some new CD's; Journey and Van Halen were driving her crazy. The topics were really nothing, far from important, but still they served a purpose, managing to salve any awkwardness that may have lingered between them. They'd both been too exhausted to do more than take a shower and crawl into bed, despite that it was nearly sunrise, the bedroom once again bathed in the awkward gray light of a night transitioning into day, but caught in the middle, not truly one or the other. It was good to be home again, it was good to be them again.

Tig was bandaged all over it seemed, his shoulder packed with gauze in the front and the back and wrapped with an ace bandage, his forearm also secured with gauze and sterile cotton batting, two butterfly bandages on the scratches on his cheek rounding everything out. Joss had worried about his bandages getting wet in the shower, wet bandages attracted infection, but somehow, Tig had managed to keep them all mostly dry, and they were still soundly in place, though he said nothing about his injuries since he'd returned from the hospital, going as far now as to turn his head away from Joss so that she couldn't see the claw marks on his neck and face. She couldn't see any of injuries really, clasped to his chest the way he had her, his good arm around her, her hand resting above his near his hip. They were both tired, but neither slept, perhaps driven by this need to feel themselves each close to the other's body and memorize every detail about how it felt; Joss staring at her cut down black fingernails against the roughness of a mechanic's hands, Tig's long, thick fingers and powerful grip now closing around the softness of her skin that he'd allowed to lay upon his own. He'd never held her like this, she'd had to dream about it, had to imagine it, but that was the closest Joss had ever believed she'd be able to have to this type of corporeal nurturing from him, but the timing was perfect, it was just what she needed. He'd do anything to protect her, particularly from herself.

Joss sighed, having been through so much now she didn't even know where to begin thinking about it all. She breathed in her man's scent, able to quickly differentiate through the aroma of soap and antiseptics that were not truly him and let the wind-swept potion of metal and musk fill her lungs as she lay even more against his chest. His chest was broad, she'd never had much of an opportunity to put her arms around him, so she'd never been able to feel how broad Tig's chest was, but it was, no wonder he'd always felt so solid any time she was close to him. She'd always known he was strong, and she could feel that the myriads of dark hairs over his chest obscured any conditioning or muscle definition he may have had, but it was there, she could feel it now; he didn't work out, never trained with weights that she knew of, what he had was how he was made, and while he wasn't Superman by any stretch of imagination, there was still plenty of power for her lay her head upon and nuzzle her cheek against.

He'd always hid this from her in a way, refusing to be in her arms where she'd be able to feel it in all its magnificence, no doubt because if Joss had known it was there, she'd have been all over him with compliments about his body, about his muscles, and compliments were always such a tricky thing with Tig, both receiving them and giving them. However, that wasn't the entirety of why he'd never let her hold him; Joss wasn't sure exactly what was, but she knew it was more than that. But Tig shared this secret about his body with her now, whether he realized it or not. She was getting to know him all over again, being granted the rare chance to rediscover what she knew about him, as long as she was silent about what she discovered.

This was happier than Joss thought she'd be ever again, the dark, curling hairs on Tig's chest tickling her nose and lips as she let the rhythm of Tig's heart become the only thing she heard. She was so afraid of what they'd be when they got home, without the club around them, alone. This had a better than average chance of feeling so strange and so unnatural to be together in any intimate sort of setting, given what had blown up between them. And Joss couldn't help but wonder at just what all of Tig's brothers had seen of her attack on that rehaired bitch, and what they'd thought…add to it the recent spells she'd begun having, and then the incessant rocking and not being able to speak. Oh God…what if she'd disfigured Tig's place within the club? His old lady was a crazy bitch, she was a liability to SAMCRO, and therefore, so was Tig…what if Clay was going to withdraw his endorsement of Tig's presidency now that it looked like Joss could no more keep her man "good" as she could keep herself that way? What had she done?

"You okay, little girl?" Tig asked, but there was no anxious worry in his voice, he was just being attentive, she had gone suddenly quiet.

Why wasn't this awkward for them? But then, maybe it was; they didn't do this, Tig wasn't a good candidate for any kind of snuggling, and no one whom Joss had ever fucked before felt anything for her that would prompt them to hold her like Tig was doing now, his good arm around her, gently pressing her head against his strong, broad chest as he smoothed her damp hair. Jesus…if she'd wrecked anything for her man…she was dead…but not by Tig's hand.

"Yeah," Joss answered, buffing down the panic that was rising within her, "just thinking about stuff."

"Well don't," Tig suggested, and smoothed her hair a little harder and faster. "Now's not a good time to be doing that, trust me."

"But," Joss lifted her head, despite how Tig had tried to keep it against his chest. She had to have an answer to soothe her worries, could feel something gearing up within her that was similar to that horrible madness, but much lesser in scale. Still, the mere suggestion of what she'd become, and what she'd done to Tig, was enough to make her more anxious than she could stand. Besides, what if Tig, in his need to not be thinking about any of the shit that had happened between Friday night and Saturday, hadn't given any thought to the repercussions he may have to face, because of her? Joss had to warn him. She sighed, knowing he wouldn't want to talk, not about this. "Can I ask you one question?"

Now Tig sighed, lifting his head off the pillow a little. "Is it about Ope?" He asked, but he didn't sound angry or even threatened, he just looked at her and slowly shook his head, "Cuz I don't know about that shit myself, yet."

Joss wasn't prepared for that, was stunned that Tig had even brought it up, and now she herself was wondering, what about Opie? Were he and Tig going to be friends now? Would they always not like each other? Would they be the kind of brothers who would always be there for each other, always have each other's backs, but still somehow hate each other? And what was Joss's deportment to be concerning Opie now? Could she speak to him, or was he still on the list of those Tig hadn't approved? Joss worried less about Opie though, this would work itself out, Tig was already thinking about it; that was obvious, she just had to be patient and trust that he'd reach a conclusion that was best for both of them. But her original worry still rained down upon her; Tig's future. "No, it wasn't about Opie." She said, and her eyes sank shamefully downwards for a second. "I'm afraid I may have caused trouble for you…with the…" Joss sighed again, not wanting to relive this, but she had to if they were going to talk about it. "I killed someone, in the clubhouse, and everyone saw…how I did it—"

"Stop!" Tig's long, thick index finger pointed at her. "If this is what you're thinking about, then no, you don't get to do that." His voice was stern and his eyes locked into hers. "The club knows more about covering shit like this than the feds know about how to uncover it, Stahl's gone, and yeah, they'll investigate and may come sniffin' around, but we, YOU, got nothing to do with it!" Tig explained in a masterful and unchallengeable way. "And about anything anyone saw and what it means, you forget it and you forget it now!" He growled at her a little, but he wasn't really angry with her, Joss could tell, he just wanted her to realize she was borrowing misery. "If there was anybody who saw that shit go down and was going to turn their backs on me, or you, as a result, it would have happened already! There ain't no investigations needed here where anyone has to pretend to still be my brother to get the four one one outta me. You put everything out there in front of everyone, baby, and no one flinched!" He paused, maybe realizing he was being a little harsh with her in the way he told her this, but Joss hadn't been offended or scared. Tig was making sense, and the anger in his voice only proved how much he cared about her. "Now stop this shit you're doing, this same shit you always do," he sighed, looking at her with so much affection and so much frustration boiling in the azure of his eyes, and he was still half yelling despite his efforts to tone himself down. "You are my heart, Joss, and you mean so fucking much to me it scares the shit outta me, but Jesus fucking Christ, this is the thing I like least about you, because it's going to pull you apart from inside out one day, and I don't wanna lose you!"

She was his heart? Tig likely didn't even know he'd said that, it wasn't the kind of thing to typically come out of his mouth, but it had, and it had touched Joss so much she felt her eyes welling up, but crying here and now for any reason wasn't a good thing, Tig wouldn't understand it and he'd only get confused and then upset. There was only one thing to do here that was right within the confines of what they shared, and that was to say, "Yes," and nod her head, which Joss did, but looked so deeply into Tig's eyes as she did, then let him press her head down against his chest again, and resume stroking her long, damp black hair. But she was okay now, Tig had explained everything to her, and besides, he'd told her she had to be okay. It likely would seem to ridiculous to anyone else, and downright archaic as well, but property did what property was told, and that included feeling what it was instructed to feel…once any obstacles to arriving there had been removed…Tig, he was so much better at this than even Joss had expected.

It was quiet for awhile, Tig's big hand continuously stroking over her drying hair, each pass growing in its length until his fingers were trailing up and down her back lightly, that sensation, combined with the security of his body and his earlier words, pushing Joss closer to sleep. "Joss," he said, and his voice surprised her, but as soon as Tig had spoken, his hand came back against her head again, holding her where she was, not wanting her to even turn her face to look at him. "Just keep your mouth closed, alright? I don't want an answer outta you," he said, his voice an odd combination of foreboding and fondness that only Tig could pull off. He took a deep breath, the broadness of his chest expanding beneath Joss's cheek as Tig kept her from moving in anyway, not wanting her to look at him. "I'm sorry for thinking what I did about you and Opie." He paused and even though she couldn't see, Joss could feel him wince as he bent his bad arm towards his face, most likely wiping at one of his eyes, based on the emotion she'd heard in his voice, but of course, paid no obvious attention to. "That was pretty fucking stupid on my part, and even as I was doing it, I knew I was dead wrong, but I just couldn't stop myself from getting sucked into it. But I know what you are, baby, and I know what you're not, and I'm going to remember that from now on, but," again he paused and Joss could feel the tension in his muscles, knew he was clenching his jaw against what he was also wiping out of his eye again, "but I'm not good at this. You let me be closer to you than anything else in your world, we're raw meat against raw meat in every way we can be, and you trust me to be next to you, over you, surrounding you and inside of you. I've never had that before, and sometimes, I can't handle the power that comes with it."

A million responses pushed at Joss's lips, but she choked them back, just quietly letting Tig's apology fall over her the way he' d wanted it too, and closed her eyes. There was nothing else said, as the sun rose they both sank into sleep, heavy and thick, Joss's head still upon Tig's broad chest and his good arm still around her, until the sound of a guitar and voices made Joss's eyes open. The sun was high in the sky now, it must have been around noon, and she was the only one in bed, Tig having awakened and gone elsewhere in the house, but it couldn't have been too long ago, because he'd left a CD playing, something than other Journey or Van Halen, and as Joss listened, she began to realize the CD was playing the same song again and again. Why was that? Who put a song on "repeat play" and then left the room it was playing in? Well, the answer to that was obvious, but still…this must have meant something, Tig's success record for communicating anything any other man in a relationship would have just been able to say was far better if he could make Steve Perry, or whoever, say it for him. But that wasn't Steve Perry, or David Lee Roth, or even Sammy Hagar…that was…shit, what was that guy's name? Joss could see his angular features and mop of strawberry blond curls…Roger Daltrey! Hmm…so, what did "The Who" have to say to her, on behalf of Tig?

"When my fist clenches, crack it open

Before I use it and lose my cool

When I smile, tell me some bad news

Before I laugh and act like a fool

If I swallow anything evil

Put your finger down my throat

If I shiver, please give me a blanket

Keep me warm, let me wear your coat"

Chapter 47; Part 2

Gemma sighed and took Joss by the shoulders as she followed Tig into the house. Tuesday night was an odd night for one of these dinners, but of course when Gemma called anyone to the table, they came. However this time, it was dinner for four, Jax and Tara not having been invited, but Joss hadn't allowed herself to make any speculations. She looked back at Gemma now, knowing why it was she'd called yesterday and "invited" she and Tig to dinner; it was just the right amount of time after the events of Friday and Saturday night, not so close that emotions would still be ruling Joss's thoughts, and not so far away that talking about it would have been bringing up the past. Tig had been right about how the club saw Joss, she'd stopped by the garage on Monday, per his request of having lunch with her, but Joss suspected he'd really called her there so she could see how 'back to normal' everything was…only it wasn't…because now all of Tig's brothers looked at her with a reverence and appreciation that should have been reserved for Gemma alone. It had made Joss so nervous and she felt so inadequate when it began to become clearer and clearer to her that in addition to being an unexpected, but welcomed, piece of their brother Tig's life, she was now a holy relic of the reaper crew. She didn't deserve such recognition, she'd hardly been aware of what she was doing, or who she was even killing, and perhaps Gemma had called this dinner into being because she'd wanted to explain just that to her. There was only one "queen" after all, and Joss knew it wasn't her.

She looked back and Gemma and tried to read her features, Gemma looked like she was trying to smile, but couldn't really push it forth, her expertly shadowed eyes taking Joss in with a concerned look. The next thing Joss knew, Gemma was hugging her tightly, even rocking her in her arms a little. "How you doing, baby girl? I've been so worried about you!" She asked as she embraced Joss, who was ashamed that she'd felt so surprised by Gemma's actual motives where this dinner was concerned…wow, she'd never have guessed this dinner was so that Gemma could check on her, because she cared that much.

"I'm okay," Joss answered, realizing all of a sudden that it was okay to hug Gemma back, and she did, feeling a little strangely like it was somehow cheating on Tig, though he'd never let her throw her arms around him and squeeze like that, never. But Tig's hand soon rubbed the small of Joss's back comfortingly, like even he was glad to see Gemma wanted to be there for her.

"Well," Clay sighed and looked at Tig. "Looks like dinner's going to be delayed," he said as he watched his wife and Joss still hugging one another. "Let's go smoke, hopefully they won't forget we exist and then eat without us."

The men departed, leaving the women to themselves, Joss unaware of how long it had been now, but she and Gemma still sat on the couch, drinking their second cups of coffee now, with miniature MilkyWays tossed into the mugs, talking about everything that had happened, even though Joss could tell that Clay had filled Gemma in on all the details…at Gemma's own insistence, most likely. But it was good to have someone to talk to about this, about how all of it made Joss feel, because Tig, well…he loved her, and he would have even understood, but that was the problem; Tig couldn't handle understanding, was more than ready to be there for Joss, but wished to do so without talking about it. But Gemma…wow, she was amazing the way she knew when to speak and when to just listen, and Joss slowly began to realize that she likely knew the kind of support Tig was able to give to her and not able to give to her as well, which was why she'd made the dinner invitation. It had nothing to do with Gemma feeling like she had to protect her "throne," because she was still very much upon it.

Their conversation was nearing its end, not much was left to be said, heard or understood, but Joss still carried one more thought inside her that she'd shared with no one. She grasped her coffee cup with both her hands and set it down in her lap a moment. "Gemma," she said and tried to think of a way to say this that didn't make her sound like she was a junky confronting her addiction or something pathetic like that. "I've been thinking…maybe I need to get some help with this."

"What kind of help do you want?" Gemma asked, no judgment in her voice, her eyes just looking levelly at Joss over the rim of her coffee cup.

Joss shrugged, not wanting to say the words. "I don't know, like a therapist or something…maybe I need to be on meds to get this under control?" She couldn't believe she'd said that, but it had been her fear for the last two days, that maybe she had what her father used to call an "S.M.I.," which was noted psychiatrist speak for "Serious Mental Illness."

"Oh, honey," Gemma sighed; setting down her mug on the coffee table and reaching over to Joss, taking her mug and doing the same with it, then taking both her hands. "Do you know why you did what you did?"

"Yes." Joss nodded, but wished she could say more before Gemma would inevitably cut her off, and she did.

"And your reasons for doing it had nothing to do with the neighbor's dog telling you to do it, and it wasn't because Stahl was an alien here to take over the planet, right?" Gemma continued, smiling a little now, and making Joss do the same.

"No," she laughed a little, though she didn't want to.

"Then that's not crazy, honey." Gemma said, shaking her head, then letting go of Joss's hands and retrieving her coffee. "That's just being pissed off!" She smiled.

Joss acknowledged Gemma's words with a smile and a nod of her head, but she still wasn't convinced, she still didn't feel justified in what she'd done, to everyone that was involved. "But I attacked Tig, Gemma!" She nearly burst out, and was struggling to keep her eyes from tearing up. "And ever since then, we haven't…I mean, I know his shoulder's a mess, but still, it's not like him to just put his arm over me at night and then fall asleep…I think I must have—"

Gemma was shaking her head. "He's giving you time, give him some." She suggested without any doubt in her voice, just some sort of experience that Joss knew she wasn't supposed to question the gaining of. "That man still loves you, and he still wants you, didn't want to leave this room without you, and wouldn't have if Clay hadn't dragged him off. Maybe's he's a little lost right now, he should be, and so should you be. Tig's just been around this shit long enough to realize it, even if you don't." Gemma reached for her coffee again and took a long, relaxed swallow of it, "wow," she smiled, "got a lot of nougat in that one!" She laughed, as if trying to illustrate her lack of concern on this matter, and make Joss understand how normal and temporary what she was going through with Tig was. Gemma languidly chewed the MilkyWay in her mouth. "It's only been two nights, Joss. I bet by tomorrow night you're wishing you did have some of that KY, so Tigger'd slip off of the bed and leave you alone!" She smirked.

Again Joss laughed, but not so much this time. Even she knew this sexless period wouldn't last, but she couldn't shake the regret and the guilt of having attacked Tig, having hurt him, that had twisted everything into one ugly ball. Joss couldn't get away from that, and every time she tried to ignore it, it seemed to just come back at her harder and stronger than before. "But I injured the man I love, Gemma!" She said; her voice crashing for a moment and her lower lip began to quiver a bit. "I love him more than anything else in my life, and still, I did that to his face, and his arm!"

But Gemma didn't respond with the compassion that Joss had expected. "So?" She asked with a shrug of her shoulders. "He questioned your fidelity to him when there was no hard and fast reason to do so, and you reacted. Yeah, you're his, but owning you means he's got to learn how to take care of you the right way, and accusing you of fucking another man isn't 'the right way,' and Tigger 'learned' that you don't like that!" She explained; her tone so relaxed, as if this was so cut and dry, but Gemma could see that it wasn't for Joss, that she couldn't reconcile it. Gemma shook her head and put her coffee down again. "Listen to me, Joss. Sometimes, I forget how young you are, because you carry yourself in this club every bit as well as I do, but you are young, so I'm going to tell you this, and I want you to remember it, okay?"

Joss nodded, feeling so dizzy by the compliment Gemma had just paid her, but her stomach churning with anticipation about what mystic secret Gemma was about to impart to her, and finally Gemma looked right into her eyes and spoke.

"There is nothing wrong with you." Gemma said, and Joss couldn't believe that had been what she said. What? That was the secret? Joss flipped out and killed people…she sliced her man open and tried to eat a piece of him…and there was nothing wrong with her? She started to shake her head at Gemma, but Gemma immediately grabbed her face and made her stop, looking at her endearingly. "No, you listen to me," Gemma said again, sounding more like she was Joss's mother than ever before. "We all have something inside of us that keeps us safe, and keeps everyone we love safe too. Maybe it's not always the prettiest part of us, and maybe it even scares us, and sometimes the people around us too, but if you look at it as being 'something wrong with you,' and think of it as 'needing to be controlled with meds,' then it will make you crazy." Gemma paused and raised her eyebrows at Joss a little. "The only thing that's not normal about the existence of something like that is when we don't have it. But you do! You just need to make friends with it, leash train it, so it'll be there when you need it and will 'sit' and 'stay' when you don't."

Wow…Joss was silent because she couldn't believe how much sense that made. Befriend the beast, and stop thinking of it as a "beast." Wow…could she really get control of this; of herself? There was nothing wrong with her? Really? Okay, so maybe to the rest of the world, she needed help, but the rest of world didn't live where there was room to embrace their "beast"…and maybe that's why so many outsiders just stood by and let shit happen. Wow! "Gemma," Joss said, feeling a strength she'd never felt before, feeling like she'd grown yet again. "Thank you!" But how could she ever truly thank her for giving her this?

"Don't mention it," Gemma smiled, and took another sip of her coffee. "Besides, you didn't do anything I wouldn't have done. You just did it with less flare." She half smirked, and then she Joss both laughed, began to relax against the couch, Joss with such a burden suddenly gone from her shoulders…and her heart. Joss felt more like herself than she had since…well…since Opie had put that bottle of water up on the bar. She could have talked to Gemma about it all night, but then…

"Hey in there," Clay's voice echoed through the kitchen door and down to the living room. He sounded a bit apprehensive to be interrupting, and touch concerned about something too that he was now attempting to solve himself. "Should Tig and I just order a pizza?"