"You think you know how this ends. I'm here to tell you that you're only in the beginning," Jax Teller's words sounded more like the beginning of a novel that a conversation. Tara blinked and couldn't help but remember JT's journals. Had her husband been born in a different time, a different place, he could have been an amazing storyteller. He could find words when she struggled. JT could spin a tale too; it was his journal that began this madness. His journal, combined with the love letters Maureen Ashby received, painted a vivid and bloody picture of SAMCRO. Tara recalled how it took her breath away. The feeling had returned as Jax spoke.
The family was gathered in a huge, closed off banquet room. Jax sat at the helm, just as he did back in the SAMCRO days. His silver and gold hair was combed back, and it glistened despite the overcast clouds glowering through the windows. He wore a simple black t-shirt and jeans. Tara sat to his right, holding his hand for dear life, and her rested on each soul as she valiantly fought to keep her anxiety at bay.
Opie and Lala sat beside one another at the center of the table. Lucius and Victor flanked each girl. The twins alternated between watching Tara and Jax as Jax spoke. Tara noticed how one of Opie's hands gripped Lala's, but the other clutched Lucius'. Tara's pulse quickened. Opie was with him last night. Images of Chibs flickered through Tara's brain. She shivered as if her life depended on it, but the shudder exercised Tara of Chibs and the SAMCRO demons, if only for the moment. Her eyes flicked to Lala. Even though she looked like Tara, there were components of Gemma in that girl's soul. She didn't clutch Victor's hand; if anything, she was distant, but Victor didn't seem very warm and fuzzy. If they were a couple, Tara wouldn't know it. At this point, she considered it a blessing.
"The beginning of what?" Tara's eyes rested on Thomas. Seated at the end of the table, her youngest son looked every bit the moody parallel to her silent emotions. His golden hair coiled loosely about his head. She could tell her son hadn't slept all night; he was so different from Abel. Abel was cool and composed, despite his sleepless night; Thomas was a loose cannon. He was Tara all over again. Jax, she realized, for all his biker past, was more emotionally rational than she was. Abel was his father; hell, he was probably a little of Wendy too. That woman could reign in emotion easily. It had always been a struggle for Tara.
Will rested a smooth, dark hand on his lover's arm. Thomas stared into Will's eyes, and Tara watched as her son immediately relaxed beneath the other man's touch. It was a healing balm to Tara's soul. She knew where Jax's story was going to lead, and she knew that Thomas would be the one that would struggle most. He'd always been so scattered, so anxious. Tara was grateful for Will Latrie. He would be the reason that would infiltrate her younger son's madness.
"The beginning of the insanity," Jax answered. His beautiful blue eyes were soaked with unspoken pain as continued. "What I have to tell you is something I never once thought I'd have to repeat. I thought the words would follow your mother and me to our graves, and you would be safe then. Nothing could hurt you once we were gone. We are your only link to the madness."
"You're speaking in circles, Pop, in prose," Abel's voice broke Jax's flow. "Don't give us a story. Give us the truth. Whatever it is, we can take it. We will take it, as a family."
Tara's heart swelled with pride as she watched her eldest son. What an amazing man you've turned out to be. Abel sat on the other side of Thomas, across from Will. Hannah sat at his side. Their chairs were squeezed tightly together, and Abel's arm held his bride. Tara noticed that her new daughter-in-law looked just as nervous as she felt. Abel said she'd had a rough night. Tara could only imagine. The poor girl's dream wedding had turned into a nightmare. Tara looked around for Hannah's parents. They hadn't showed up. I'm sure they're worried about intruding, Tara thought. After all, they hadn't been family for twenty-four hours yet, and Hannah was going to learn, along with the rest of them, that the lives they'd led were lies. Tara shook again and closed her eyes. It was too fucking much.
"I wish this were just a story," Jax quietly stated. The door swung open, once again interrupting Jax's confessions. Tara turned to see the Sinclairs enter the room. James, dressed impeccably in his standard suit and tie, gazed apologetically at Jax and Tara. Sarah, even though she was just as perfectly coifed as her husband, looked as exhausted as their daughter did.
"I'm sorry we are late," James apologized. Jax nodded with an accepting smile and gestured for them to sit. They took the chairs next to Hannah. Now the doctor and his wife sat next to Tara. Sarah's gardenia fragrance made Tara's head ache. It was as if the woman had practically bathed in it. Tara dug her nails into her palms. The pain distracted from the smell.
"Like I was saying," Jax continued. "I wish this were a story. I wish that the man you found last night had been a stranger, but I'd be lying if I said he was."
"Who was he, Daddy?" Lala's voice rose from the quiet that surrounded them. "How did you know him?"
Jax inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. His heart pounded in his ears. This is it, he thought. This is the moment I rip my family into shreds. He felt Tara's fingers link into his. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised at the tears that flowed from them. Through the haze, he saw his family, his beautiful, wonderful family, and his heart felt as if it would explode within his chest. It's now or never. Just rip the goddamned Band-Aid off, Teller.
"His name was Filip Telford, but your mother and I always called him Chibs," Jax said with a sad, distant smile. His eyes turned to Tara for a moment. She met his eyes, and even though fear rested within them, she nodded and tightened her grip on his hand, urging him to continue.
"I grew up knowing Chibs," Jax explained. "He was part of my father's club- The Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club. We called it SAMCRO. Chibs was one of its members, and I was its heir."
Tara watched as Jax spun his tale. He skimmed over his early childhood, over his younger brother Thomas' death. His voice changed as talked. When he spoke of Clay, his eyes narrowed and his mouth tightened. When Piney or Bobby or Tig or Happy came into the story, his demeanor lightened dramatically. Even Gemma was met with a nostalgic tone and a wistful grin. Jax left holes in the story, unsure of what to tell them, but they listened, transfixed, as he spoke. He detailed meeting Tara.
"It was the best day of my life," Jax said with a smile. "I'll never forget the moment I saw her. I was lost, and Donna—oh God, Donna knew. She knew I was done."
"Donna's husband was your father's best friend," Tara said as she intercepted the story. "But long before they were married, Donna was his girlfriend, and she was one of your dad's closest friends too."
"Who was her husband, Mama? Tig? Bobby? Happy?" Lala questioned. Tara's eyes fell on her ginger haired child, and unable to stop the deluge, Tara allowed herself to cry. Jax cried with her. "No, honey, he was another biker, the son of the co-founder of SAMCRO. He was Piney's son. His name was Harry, but we never called him that. In our eyes, he was always just Opie."
Ophelia's eyes widened in amazement. "You mean—I'm not named after some stupid tv show?"
Tara shook her head. "No, honey. We named you after your father's best friend. He died a long time ago. He was very young."
"How?" Opie asked, intrigued. Questions filled her mind, but looking at Jax, she quickly swallowed them. Her father's eyes were distant and haunted, and his lips trembled. He opened his mouth to answer her question, but no words came. Just the echoes of Opie's last words—I got this—rang in his ears. He stared into Ophelia's gray eyes, lost.
"That is a story that will be told later, Opie," Tara stated firmly. "It's important, but it drowns in so many backstories. If we told you everything that led up to even your birth-" Tara sighed, overwhelmed. "We'd be here for days. Your father is trying to explain why Chibs was here last night. I promise you—we have time for the stories. Your father and I just have to figure out how to explain it all."
Far from satisfied by her mother's answers, Opie wanted nothing more than to drill Tara for information, but her father's eyes stopped her. The agony was palpable, and she knew that the story would simply have to wait.
"There came a time where SAMCRO sank into crimes I would have never once imagined us committing," Jax shakily picked up where Tara left off. "In that time, Clay affiliated us with other rival gangs. I won't lie to you—we did some fucked up things—things that led to unimaginable tragedy. Guns and drugs and violence unparalleled—it ruled my life. I went to prison for awhile, and after that, your mother wanted us free from it. She begged me over and over and over again to get out, but every single time I tried to escape, I was pulled back in."
"People were dying," Tara said. "All around us. It began with Donna—"
"Opie's wife?" Ophelia asked, shocked.
"Yes, Opie's wife," Tara replied. "Her murder was the catalyst to everything that happened. The bodies just kept coming—Half-Sack was killed by the Irish." Tara closed her eyes in punctuation of that sentence. Memories of Abel's kidnapping flooded her. She shrugged them away and continued. "Luanne, Piney, Dawn, Opie, Otto—" It was a death cadence as she whispered. "Gemma, Juice, Wendy, Unser, Chuckie, Nero—and now, Chibs."
"Once the body count began rising, I knew the danger was mounting, but your mother was pulled in and framed for a crime she didn't commit," Jax reiterated. Tara just clutched at his hand, head bowed. "And I was in a helluva spot. I agreed to go to prison to protect her—and the club. I said my goodbyes. Your mom and I planned to meet at our house, so I could turn myself in—but Fate, that ever duplicitous bitch—intervened."
"Gemma was dead," Tara explained. "She'd been murdered, and I had been badly beaten." Jax's eyebrows raised. He'd expected Tara to explain Gemma's part in the beating. His eyes screamed an unspoken question of why, but Tara continued, oblivious. "And within a couple of months, I learned I was pregnant with you girls."
"I knew we had to get out," Jax finished. "Especially after another man ended up trying to kill your mother. Izzy went after her when she was eight months in. It resulted in Opie and Lala being born prematurely." Jax looked at his girls, tears falling once more. "I almost lost all three of you. My girls. I couldn't do it. I wanted no part of SAMCRO. None at all. Just after Opie and Lala were born, Tara and I decided to get out."
"You turned Witness Protection," Abel said solemnly. Tara's heart hammered against her ribs. She turned to Jax, and he nodded. The secret was out. It was all Tara could do to keep breathing. Her forehead was bathed in sweat, and her palms were clammy.
"We did," Jax answered. "We turned WitSec. I gave information to the DA, Tyne Patterson, and in return, she relocated us to Silver Spring. We were given new identities, new careers, new lives. For all that SAMCRO knows, you kids, your mother, and I are dead."
"What about Chibs?" Abel asked. "How did he find you?"
"I couldn't leave without him knowing. I knew Chibs would take the secret to his grave. He was the only one outside law enforcement that knew about us."
"So why didn't he take it to the grave, as you thought he would?" Thomas questioned. Tara was shocked to hear his voice. There was no panic, just calm. It was strange.
"There was a threat against my family," Jax responded. "I had a sister, Trinity, that lived in Ireland. Chibs came to me to inform me that she was murdered, and the only people that could have pulled off killing a Teller were the Irish Kings. He thought that they were after us—and after last night, I realize just how right he was."
"A Teller?" Lala asked. "Is that your real last name?" Tara was astounded at how well her young daughter listened. "You said you had to change everything, Daddy. Were you a Teller? Are we Tellers?"
"I am a Teller," Jax proclaimed. "Jackson Nathaniel Teller. Your mother was born Tara Grace Knowles."
"But when we're alone, he calls me Tara Teller," Tara followed. "And I didn't realize until this very moment how much I missed it."
"My name is Abel Teller." The words came from the other side of the table. Jax and Tara watched as their oldest son stood, eyes wide and confused and scared. The young man turned faced them, his blue eyes speaking volumes.
"You remember," Tara said softly, and Abel nodded.
"I do," he said low. "Not everything, but I do. I remember the motorcycles. I remember Chibs. He had an accent. I remember a garage. I remember you Mama, dressed in all green, all the time—I remember—" Abel struggled to keep his composure as he turned his eyes to his younger brother. With quivering lips and crying eyes, Abel stared. "You're Tommy. Thomas. Your name is Thomas Teller."
"After Pop's little brother," Thomas exhaled. For a moment, he couldn't breathe, but it passed quickly. Don't freak out, he told himself. Look at them. Ada—Abel is breaking down. Mom and Pop are shattered. If you lose your shit, you'll make this even worse. Don't make this worse. Instead of speaking, Thomas stood and walked to his older brother. Without speaking, he wrapped the older man in a tight embrace.
"I got you," Thomas brokenly whispered. "I got you, Brother. You're not gonna lose us." Hannah, openly weeping, then followed Thomas' lead. Gripping as much of her husband as she could in her tiny embrace, Hannah pressed herself against Abel's back. The three of them silently rocked back and forth as everyone watched.
"Were we always Lala and Opie, Mama?" Opie's voice quivered as she spoke. She and her twin hadn't moved. Even now, Lala watched her brothers and sister-in-law hold one another. Lala felt Victor's hand on her knee. Under the table, her free hand overlapped his. She didn't hold his hand; she just rested hers atop his in a temporary respite, a reminder that she was still alive, even though her soul wanted to tell her otherwise.
Tara swallowed hard as she looked at her daughters. Neither girl cried, and for some reason, it made Tara incredibly proud. They're so fucking tough.
"Your big brother Abel gave Lala her name," Tara explained. "Delylah is incredibly hard to say when you're five."
Delylah's mouth gaped open. "My name is Delylah?" Tara nodded in response. "Where did that come from?"
"Opie's first and second wives," Jax answered. "The D was for Donna, and Opie's second wife, Lyla, was an amazing friend to us. Your father named you. Delylah Grace Teller. Grace was my mother's name."
"And your middle name," Lala stated quietly.
"Yes," Tara said, overcome with memories. "She died when I was young. Before I met your father."
A chord struck within Lala. Delylah Grace. It was a beautiful name. No wonder I never liked Laura. The name had never been her own. It made sense, and it was an amazing feeling to have that kind of legacy. She looked at Opie, who stared back with a strange gaze. The twin connection was there, but neither girl could shake the feeling that everything they'd known before was now new and foreign.
"So—Opie is?" Delylah asked, and Tara smiled nostalgically.
"I named you, Opie," Tara stated. "You were born Ophelia Rose Teller. We shortened your nickname to Opie in honor of your father's best friend. Rose was Gemma's middle name. It was also your father's grandmother's name."
"Ophelia Rose," Opie whispered. The name turned over and over again, and Opie wasn't completely sure she liked it. It was so exotic and strange. Maybe I just need to get used to it.
"So what happens now?" James Sinclair's stringent voice broke the emotion of the room. Abel, Hannah, and Thomas broke their embrace to stare at the shocked physician. Hannah's mother looked faint.
"Chibs' partner, Althea, and their son will be coming to take Chibs back to Charming," Jax said coolly. He didn't like the doctor's tone of voice. Does he not see what my family is going through?
"And my daughter?" James questioned. "Do we annul this farce of a marriage?"
"Dad!" Hannah exclaimed. "What the hell are you doing?" James Sinclair stood and glared at Abel.
"This whole fucking family is a lie," he cursed. "I don't want you part of it. You'll annul this marriage immediately, and you'll come back to Silver Spring with us."
"No I won't!" Hannah cried. "Adam had nothing to do with this. He's never lied to me. Not once. He can't control what happened to him or to his parents. My husband did nothing wrong, and I'm not going any goddamned where!"
"Are you delusional, Hannah? His name isn't even Adam. It's Abel. And his father was once the head of a gang—a gang that is trying to kill them now! Your wedding ended with a dead body! I will not have you be the next victim!"
"I'm not leaving," Hannah stated. "I will not walk away from him. Not now."
"You will, or you'll walk away from us," James Sinclair firmly stated.
"There it is, the ultimatum. Way to go, James." Everyone turned and stared at Victor. His eyes were ominous as he stared at his father. "The same one that came when I decided to be a Marine."
"Shut up Victor," James warned, his eyes furious.
"If it weren't for Hannah, I could've walked away," Victor said. "Now that you're telling her to leave, I won't have to deal with your elitist bullshit anymore."
"Fuck you," James seethed. "I offered you everything on a silver platter. You're the one that decided to become a fucking grunt."
"This fucking grunt could snap you like a goddamned twig," Victor said with a cold, evil smile. He stood and leaned across the table. His face was mere inches from his father's as he frigidly whispered, "Fuck with me, old man. I'll crush those lily-white doctor hands to a pulp."
Tara winced as Victor spoke. She instinctively cradled the hand Clay's goons crushed all those years ago. The memories. Goddamn these memories. Tara closed her eyes and began to rock slowly. She didn't see James stand and move closer to his son.
"Try it," James snarled. "Your whole fucking universe will end."
"Stop it!" Sarah screamed. "James, just stop! You've done enough!"
"Shut the fuck up," James fumed. "This bastard basically spit in my face."
"No, I didn't," Victor stated calmly. Before James could open his mouth to argue, Victor spit, covering his father's face in saliva. A look of triumph covered the Marine's face as Sarah and Hannah both gasped, shocked. James jumped the table, almost knocking Opie and Lala to the ground. His hand grabbed Victor's collar.
"See!" Victor yelled as he was slammed against the floor. "You're no better than this grunt!" The men rolled on the floor and Abel, Thomas, and Lucius raced to break up the brawl. "You're no different than these lying bikers you want Hannah to leave! You want to kill me, don't you James?! Don't you?!"
A fist slammed into Victor's jaw before the younger man flipped his father over and grabbed him by the throat. Before Abel could reach him, Victor crushed his father's cheek with a sickening blow.
"Please make it stop!" Hannah screamed. Abel and Thomas grabbed Victor and ripped him from James.
Lucius made it to the now unconscious doctor. His perfect face was badly wounded. The bruises had already made themselves more than apparent. Tara had rushed to Hannah's side to ensure her safety, because Sarah had somehow rushed out during the fight. Will went to Opie and Lala. Thomas and Abel were busy calming Victor.
In the midst of the fray, of the insanity, the huge double doors, left slightly ajar from Sarah's stealthy exit, opened further. Jax's eyes, unsure of where to look, focused on the person entering. Althea. She had hardly aged in the eighteen years that had passed. He'd talked to her in the wee hours of the morning. How the fuck did she get here so fast? Jax looked at his watch. It was after two in the afternoon. Jesus Christ. Time had rushed away.
Before he could curb the madness, a young boy walked in. Standing next to Althea, it was impossible to not realize who he was. John Jackson Jarry. He was tall, with midnight black hair and almost black eyes. He was lanky and fair and absolutely beautiful. Oh God, Chibs, your boy—Jax's eyes refilled with tears as Althea walked across the room. The young man was glued in place. The maylay continued. Abel and Thomas yelled at Victor—Hannah was sobbing—The girls were upset—The only other person that even noticed Althea's presence was Tara, but that was no surprise to Jax. His wife didn't miss a beat—ever.
Somehow, Tara had managed to pull herself away from Hannah. Abel had wandered back to his wife's arms after he and Thomas had tamed Victor's boiling fury to a quiet anger. Abel soon realized that the true reason for the soldier's calm was Lala, who now sat at his side. As Abel looked at Hannah, he was immediately grateful for her.
"You fought for me," he whispered incredulously, as he pulled her tight.
"I love you," Hannah whispered back.
Abel scanned the rest of the room. Opie quietly tended to that asshole Dr. Sinclair. Thomas, Will, and Lucius helped her. Everything had relaxed and died down as quickly as it had exploded.
Tons of fires had burned into embers, and Jax was glad he didn't have to extinguish them all. Across the room was a widow and a son—neither of which knew what had transpired before their arrival. As Jax made his way to them, Tara joined him. A light of recognition lit in Althea's eyes, but Jax also saw the fear, the grief, and the unyielding sadness. Before she had the opportunity to speak, Jax enveloped her in a careful, but strong embrace. Tara's arms followed. After all, this woman was Chibs' old lady, and that made her family. To his surprise, the tough as nails sheriff he remembered disappeared. In her place was a weeping, grieving woman. Without a word, Althea pulled her son into the hug.
Jax and Tara's children fell silent as they watched them. No one could speak or breathe or move. It was a beautiful scene, an almost magical one that unfolded before them, causing them all to put their own emotions aside. Nothing else mattered as they watched Jax, Tara, Althea, and John stand there, embracing one another and crying for the man Chibs had been.