***

Losing family sucks, even if it's family you really don't like. Trust me on that. This chapter is mostly about conflict, but not as much as the next one is going to be. Yeah, not all of the Sons are going to be happy about having Annie show up again. Oh well, fun to write, right?

Anne's hurting but too proud to admit how desperately grateful she is that Tig showed up when he did. Would you trust your feelings towards someone if they started in such a scary and dangerous place, or would you figure it was just a temporary instinct based on survival?

Found a lovely little ballad called Set Fire to the Third Bar by Snow Patrol. It's a good song for Anne's mental state at this stage.

"After I have travelled so far
We'd set the fire to the third bar
We'd share each other like an island
Until exhausted, close our eyelids
And dreaming, pick up from the last place we left off."

-B.

***

While Anne showered, Tig took the opportunity to look through her belongings. Just because he liked her didn't mean he trusted her. If she was packing more weapons, he needed to know about that.

Her suitcase contained disappointingly boring underwear and a sad lack of lingerie, but given the circumstances, that was understandable. It also contained a knife wrapped in a sweatshirt and pushed to the bottom of the case. A weapon wasn't very useful in the bottom of a suitcase, but that was her choice. The pistol was a better weapon anyway. He rewrapped it and put it back among her clothes.

In her purse, he found a cell phone. The display read 15 missed calls and 7 new voice messages. Anne was ignoring someone. Or several someones. He found her wallet—no longer containing a school staff badge—and her passport, along with American and Canadian cash.

He also found two bottles of pills rattling around underneath a pocket novel, three pens, and an ipod. The first bottle was Advil, and it was nearly empty. The second was Ativan, a tranquilizer, and was nearly full. The prescription date was from a month ago. It was interesting that she carried them, but barely used them. Tig considered pocketing a few, but the powdery pills wouldn't hold up well, so he tucked the bottle back in her purse.

A laptop computer case leaned against the bedside table, but the sound of the shower shutting off told him that there just wasn't time to fumble with the damn thing, despite his curiousity.

He was so used to seeing Anne in Gemma or Tara's clothing that it was a bit jarring to see her emerge from the washroom wearing a high-necked shirt and another long skirt. She wore the lightest touches of make-up and wore her long hair twisted away off her face. A delicate pair of glasses on her faintly freckled nose completed the picture of a librarian. She looked obnoxiously wholesome. He put his hands in his pockets; they itched to unbind her hair and mess up the demure outfit.

"You always dress like a nun?" Tig asked.

"Only for you, baby." Anne replied with mild sarcasm. She softened it with a wry smile. "People judge on appearances. If the cops come back today, better for me if they see a nun."

When Tig wanted to hide what he was, he took off his cut and unstrapped the knife from his leg. If it was really important, like killing someone, he put a mask over his face. He understood subtlety, but rarely felt the need to practice it. However, he could understand Anne's logic. Gemma took charge of situations, and that was her strength. Anne was, for lack of a better term, sneaky. And in this case, that was a good thing. Her life depended on the cops not getting involved with the mess in Lodi; that meant not setting off any bells for them.

Tig nodded. Maybe it wasn't so bad that she was clever. "You look so… innocent."

"Innocent." She echoed. The wry smile remained, but it didn't reach her eyes.

To him, she was innocent. She sure as hell wasn't a virgin, and he knew she could kill, so it wasn't that kind of purity. But the vulnerability, the pain, and the way she pushed fear back behind her green eyes—that was innocent. She'd done dark things, but she felt every inch of them.

Tig picked up her suitcase and headed out the door. Anne followed with her purse and laptop. He waited while she checked out of the hotel and then led the way to her rental car. It was a silver Chevy Malibu. At least it was American. For now, his bike would stay at the hotel, so as not to attract attention at the hospital. An MC bike outside the hospital an ATF agent was dying in? Bad PR. Likewise, his cut and knife would stay in the car.

When he asked for the keys, she mutely handed them over. He had expected a fight there, but as he turned the ignition, he reflected that it wasn't how Anne worked. She picked her battles. How she managed it without seeming like a push-over was a mystery to him.

She was barely present in the car on the way to the hospital. He couldn't imagine how she felt about going back to her sister's deathbed, but she needed to fill out DNR forms and pick up insurance documentation. Anne sat quietly by his side, gazing out the window, her hands folded demurely in her lap. It felt like he was driving alone; Anne had an uncanny way of dimming herself down to nothing, despite being a living and breathing thing mere inches away.

At the hospital, Tig didn't want to see Agent Stahl. He let Anne go into her room alone while he went to settle up with the obliging unit clerk who'd notified him about Anne's presence. Afterword, at loose ends, he found a chair in the hallway and settled in to wait. He hated hospitals. They brought up bad memories.

Several minutes later, the voice that rang out down the hallway was both familiar and unwelcome.

"Trager? What the hell are you doing here?"

Deputy David Hale. Of course. He'd been fucking Agent Stahl in Charming. It made sense he'd come see the bitch before she kicked the bucket. So much for low profile. Tig felt a headache starting. He stood, holding his hands up and trying to show Hale that he didn't mean any harm.

"Aw, deputy, it's not…"

Hale shoved Tig aside with angry strength and yanked open the door to Stahl's room. His face was twisted in a scowl of worry and anger. Tig came into the room immediately behind Hale, and his hands closed in fists to see Anne flat against the wall, her eyes wild in the face of the deputy's rage. Hale's gun wasn't aimed at her, but it was trained on the floor in her direction.

Hale had put himself between Anne and Agent Stahl. His expression changed to one of wary recognition. "You. I've seen you before. You were hanging around the Sons back in the spring."

Anne was breathing a little too fast and her hands were tense at her sides. Tig warned. "Hale, don't."

"Don't what? Ask what the hell you're doing here? Oh god, is this the work of the Sons?" Hale's flushed face went pale. The gun came up a few degrees, wavering between Anne and Tig.

"Whoa, Hale. No. We didn't do this. I'm not here for Stahl. I'm here for her." Tig said, keeping his hands raised. He nodded at Anne, who seemed frozen. "She's Stahl's little sister, you idiot."

Anne flinched as Hale's angry stare swung back to her. Tig considered his options. Anne seemed more fragile now than she had the week after they got out of Lodi. He wasn't sure she had the fire to stand up to Hale's righteous hostility. He wasn't thrilled about having a jumpy cop between him and Anne, though he was pretty sure Hale wasn't trigger-happy enough to do anything stupid. This was a moment where having Bobby or Jax around would have been handy; calming situations down just wasn't Tig's strength.

Fortunately, it was Anne's. Despite her obvious anxiety, he could see her judging the situation and assessing Hale. She didn't take her eyes off the deputy as she carefully edged towards the door. Hale kept his gun trained in her direction, but watched mutely as she moved to stand next to Tig.

"The Sons had nothing to do with this." Tig repeated. "But until we figure out who did, Anne's got our protection. From anyone."

"June's sister is throwing her lot in with SAMCRO?" Hale asked, incredulous, though he lowered the gun.

Anne took a small step towards Hale. Her posture had shifted from fearful to a calm and blank-eyed looseness. When she spoke, it was softly and without inflection. "Are you judging me for that?"

Tig looked down at her, suddenly worried she'd confront Hale more directly. She didn't seem angry, but he didn't trust the perfect blankness of her face as she regarded Hale. She'd looked like that while standing over Connor's body.

"Do you know who these men are?" Hale asked, incredulous and baffled.

"You're standing over the body of my sister and asking me who I know?" Anne's voice remained softly sweet.

Hale shook his head in confusion and recoiled. The gun lowered. "There's more going on here than you're telling me. If you're in trouble, I can protect you…"

"June and I weren't close." Anne said firmly, but just as quietly, cutting off Hale. "I'm going to sign the papers to terminate her care tomorrow. She won't last an hour off life-support. Her organs will be donated."

She stared at the deputy for a long, uncomfortable moment. Then a false and dismissive smile crossed her lips. "I don't need your help. Please. Just say goodbye to June. When I come back to submit the forms I don't want to see you here."

With that, she rested her hand briefly on Tig's arm and looked directly at Hale to make sure he saw the gesture. Then she stepped into the hallway. Tig cast a last glance at the ghost-white face of Agent Stahl, and followed Anne.

Out of Hale's sight, Anne stoicism cracked. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself defensively, the medical forms pressed to her chest. She exhaled slowly and glanced back in the direction of Stahl's room. "Who was that?"

"Deputy Chief of Police for Charming." Tig answered.

Anne's eyes were full of worry. Her voice was just above a whisper. "If the police find out I was in Lodi…"

"Yeah." Tig said, acknowledging her concern but hushing her with a shake of his head. Anne was theoretically safe from the Nordics so long as she kept her mouth shut about what had been done to her by Matthew Connor's splinter group. He stroked her hair once, and then got her out of the hospital and back to the car. No point in hanging around waiting for Hale to think of anything else to ask.

She was silent until the parking lot. Anne spoke hesitantly, placing her hand on his sleeve. "This would have been much harder to do alone."

Tig smiled a little. She hadn't said too hard, just harder. Stubborn little girl.

"I think you freaked out Hale, kid."

Anne shrugged. "My sister was sleeping with him?"

"Yeah."

She made a noise of disgust. "June prefers women."

"Wait, what?"

"Only thing she liked more was power. That guy must matter in Charming."

Tig stared at Anne. "Back that up a bit…"

"Lesbian. Surely you're familiar with the concept?" Anne said innocently.

Tig shot her an unkind look as they climbed into the car, with Tig again at the wheel. He rolled the concept around in his head. It kind of made sense.

"And what do you prefer?" He asked, once the idea of dyke-Stahl settled. He didn't even try to hide the leer.

Anne turned in her seat and leaned over to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "I prefer you, jackass."

And just like that, she'd disarmed him and left him without anything to say. Sneaky, clever woman. Then he thought of one more thing.

"So if you prefer men, does that mean women are still an option? 'Cause y'know, that's all kinds of hot…"

Anne punched him in the arm. Girls who play-fought were the best kind of girls. Tig grinned. She was trying not to smile, but Tig could see it behind the disapproving expression on her face. She folded her arms and stared out the window while he started the car.

After a few minutes, she said. "I know she's awful, but I'm sad she's dying."

Tig was not at all sad Stahl was dying. "Family is a hard thing."

Anne fell silent, but he felt her presence in the car.

"Why did you change your name?" Tig asked.

"I wanted to be someone new," she said. "And seriously, April and June? You name cats like that, not kids."

Tig decided not to tell her about Fawn and Dawn. Ever.

At the hotel, Tig gave Anne the keys to the Chevy and climbed on his bike. She followed him out of Oakland and onto the highway to Charming. There was a risk of her presence bringing more heat down on the club, but that damage was already done. He knew she wouldn't get a universally warm welcome from the boys, but well, it was only for a day or two. The club was important, but so was keeping Anne safe.