Tara stood outside of Valley Memorial Hospital, phone in hand. It had been over an hour since Jax called her, and it took every single drop of resolve she had not to lose her mind. She shivered in the late July night. She was vaguely surprised by the slight chill in the air; maybe Autumn would come early this year. It was Tara's favorite season. A true California girl, Tara only experienced Fall during her residency in Chicago. She'd fallen in love with the season. Part of her longed for it. Maybe my life will be fixed by then.
Tears sprung to her eyes as she remembered the morning Chibs re-entered their lives. What a difference the last few weeks had made; gone was the hopeful Tara Knowles Teller, anxious for what the future would bring. Then, she was a soccer mom facing empty nest syndrome. Now, she was hovering somewhere between Old Lady and Grandma. Her daughter was now missing, as was her daughter-in-law. She knew now that Lucius was the one responsible for Ophelia's kidnapping, and she was certain he was behind Hannah's disappearance as well.
Her heart felt heavy. Her soul ached for her suburban lifestyle. She longed for school days and holidays, times with her children that weren't caught up with the words kidnapping or murder. She closed her eyes and envisioned them little again; the memories would warm her bruised and battered psyche as she tried to come to terms with her daughter's violent abduction.
I knew this was going to happen, Tara thought. I knew that I couldn't keep them safe. She knew she should have never let Ophelia go to the house alone, but she also knew what it was like to be trapped in a life she hated. Opie was so much like Tara, more than even Tara realized. She craved stability. When SAMCRO barreled into their world, all the stability was lost, and when people started dying and started vanishing, Opie became captive. When Opie became captive, she rebelled. Tara did the same, and that's why she relented and let her daughter travel alone.
Age has made you complacent. Her conscience railed against her. The guilt that penetrated her mind beat her down over and over. You should have known better. The Tara of eighteen years ago would have never let Opie go alone. Ever.
A flash of blue and red lights illuminated the parking lot and bounced off Tara's skin. The ambulance had arrived with Thomas' car in tow. Tara was surprised that Jax drove the convertible; she knew how much he hated it. As Jax parked the car, Tara watched the ambulance stop in front of the emergency room entrance. The driver killed the engine and flicked off the lights. He stepped out and opened the back doors. Tara saw Thomas step out first, then another EMT followed suit. As Thomas walked towards Tara, the EMTs carefully pulled Victor's gurney out.
Tara gasped when she saw him. The white sheets were soaked with blood. Victor's dark eyes were hooded and tired. There were prominent dark circles beneath him, and he looked pale. Tara knew the young man had lost a lot of blood; that was more than evident in his almost colorless lips. By this time, Thomas was at Tara's side, as was Jax.
"I can't believe those responders agreed to bring Victor here," Tara whispered, annoyed. With a head trauma like Victor's, time was of the essence. While Tara knew Jax's heart was in the right place, his brain simply wasn't functioning. As much as she hurt like Jax did, Victor needed more immediate care.
"It'll be easier for Delylah," Jax stated. His voice was gravelly and tired. His blue eyes were painful to stare at. "Does she know yet?"
Tara shook her head in the negative. "No. She knows nothing at all. I figured the three of us would tell her together. Soften the blow." Tara couldn't believe how clinical she sounded. It'd been a few hours since Ophelia disappeared. She should have been a wreck. She should have been freaking out and worrying, but a strange calm blanketed her. It could've been the Xanax she popped after breaking down in the bathroom, but Tara also realized it could've been shock rearing its ugly head. A combination of both would render anyone apathetic.
Jax encircled his arm around his wife's waist. Thomas stared at them. It was truly a miracle his parents lasted as long as they did. He'd conversed with Tig and with Venus and with Althea; bikers didn't have a love like that. In the few stories each person told, Thomas realized how blessed Jax and Tara really were. They'd just narrowly escaped prison and death. They got out in just enough time—Thomas knew he wouldn't be alive without that decision. The realization of it all was humbling.
"I can't believe this is happening," Tara mumbled. "It's so fucking surreal. I thought we were done with this, Jax."
"I know," Jax guiltily replied. "I promised to keep you safe. For the last eighteen years, I have kept it. Now, everything is falling apart, and none of us are safe. I fucking hate it."
"My only question is why." Thomas voice crackled as he spoke. "Why now? Why us?"
Jax shook his head. There was no good answer. There were lots of theories, but until some sort of concrete proof reared its head, there was nothing he could do.
"Why Lucius?" Thomas asked. The thought raced through Jax's mind throughout the entire drive to the hospital. The boy had been with his garage for almost three years, and for all intents and purposes, he didn't realize how long Ophelia and Lucius had been together. A loner from the start, Jax had felt for the boy he'd hired.
"You're only seventeen," he'd told Lucius during his first employment interview. "Where are your parents?"
"Dead," Lucius said simply. He didn't offer any details at the time, nor did Jax ask for any. "My father died when I was younger, and my mom just died last year. Heroin overdose."
At the time, Jax's heart went out to the boy. He couldn't imagine being alone at such a young age. Even though Jax's own upbringing was tainted with biker blowouts and constant run-ins with the law, Gemma had always been devoted to him. It was a sick, power-hungry devotion, but Jax never once doubted his mother's love. From the look on Lucius' face, Jax knew that Lucius' mother didn't give a damn about the life she'd created.
Jax hired Lucius on the spot. As time passed, Jax learned that the young man had managed to rent a room in an old Victorian house on the edge of town. It was a modest place, to say the least, but it was a place where Lucius could lay his head. Jax also learned that the young man was a phenomenal mechanic; he was able to take even the most complicated vehicle apart. Two years after his hire, Jax promoted the orphaned kid to Manager, and it was then that Lucius was able to rent a small, one bedroom house. Jax remembered being proud of Lucius' progress.
Now, standing in front of the hospital, watching Victor Sinclair being wheeled in, Jax realized he'd made a grave mistake. Anxiety and regret roiled in his belly as he shuffled through his memory; he tried to pinpoint a moment where he would've known what Lucius was really after. He couldn't put a finger on any one event; in fact, Lucius had, essentially, become a part of the family, especially when he became involved with Opie.
"There's no way you could've known about this." Tara comforted him. She placed her hand in Jax's and squeezed. "I didn't even put two and two together until tonight. That kid is an amazing, calculated liar."
"It still doesn't answer any questions, Pop." Thomas' voice was tight as Jax and Tara turned their eyes to him. "I mean, is Lucius part of a bigger plan? I mean, Hannah is missing, and now Opie is too. I know y'all kept thinking Chibs' murder was because of the Irish—does this mean Lucius is one of them too?"
"I don't see how they couldn't be related," Jax admitted. He'd been thinking about it the entire ride in. Despite his almost two decade absence, Jax was still too educated in street life to ignore the obvious. Lucius couldn't have acted alone. This was far too well-constructed of a plan to be Lucius' alone. Besides that, Jax couldn't think of a reason why Lucius would hate them—it was more than apparent that the young man had been coached to hurt the Tellers in the worst ways possible.
Tara nodded in understanding. When Jax called and told her the news, she knew the truth just as he had. There was no way in hell he'd gathered enough anger and hatred in the three years he'd known them to commit such horrible, heinous crimes.
"There you are," Delylah's voice cut through the humid night. Jax, Tara, and Thomas turned and watched as she walked towards them. She was dressed in an ankle length, peacock blue skirt and a creamy, off-white v-neck tee, she looked far prettier than she needed to for the hospital. Her long, dark hair was tied in a messy bun. She looked far older than eighteen, but Tara didn't know if that was a result of her style or her relationship with Victor. Hannah's brother had dramatically changed her wild child daughter. Despite their entire world falling apart, Tara had never seen her daughter more comfortable with herself. Tara knew that, as soon as Delylah knew exactly what happened, that calm would burst into flames.
"Did you find Op?" Delylah hadn't even made it to her brother and her parents before the question was out of her mouth. To say that she'd been worried was an understatement.
"Victor found her," Thomas truthfully admitted.
"Was she with Lucius?" Delylah asked. Thomas nodded. She fought back the words I told you so as she stared at them. "What did Victor do to him?" Delylah had no doubt in her mind that her beloved taught Ophelia's bastard boyfriend a much needed lesson. He was just as protective over Opie as she was. As she was met with silence, her eyebrow furrowed in confusion. Thomas reached out and grabbed her hand. Delylah's body reacted before her brain registered the gesture. She trembled as Jax and Tara moved closer to her.
"Victor got there before us," Thomas shakily whispered. "I guess you got him before Mama could get ahold of Pop. When he got there, he found Opie—" Thomas' voice choked off, but he cleared his throat and continued. "In her own blood. It was everywhere, Lala. Everywhere." Thomas' lips quivered with the memory.
"Lucius hurt her?" Delyah's voice edged on hysteria. "I hope Victor killed the sonofabitch."
"Victor found Opie in the kitchen," Thomas continued on, not acknowledging Delylah's words. "When he described her—" Thomas shivered. "He said her nose was shattered. Her eyes were swollen shut. When he went to help her, to take her and get her help, he was hit." Delylah stood stock still, unmoving. Tara fought back tears as she grasped her daughter's hand. Thomas wasn't even sure she was breathing as he continued to speak. "The EMTs said his injuries were a result of blunt force trauma to the back of the head. The cops were still searching for what Lucius must've used when we left."
"Is Victor-?" Lala didn't want to finish the question. She couldn't handle using the word dead in the same sentence as her lover's name. Thomas, to her relief, shook her head in the negative.
"He's got a killer gash in the back of his head," Jax stated. "I wouldn't be surprised if he needed surgery, but he's gonna be alright, honey." Another wave of relief washed over Delylah's features, but her eyes filled with tears.
"Where's Opie?" she asked. "Is she here now, too?" Delylah couldn't imagine having both her sister and brother in the same ICU. She became dizzy with the thought. The world felt like it was spinning out of control with every revelation that occurred. Once again, an upheaval took place within her soul, and she couldn't explain it. Nothing made sense.
"When Victor got knocked out, Lucius grabbed Opie," Thomas whispered.
"She's gone?" Delylah croaked. "Like Hannah? Just—"
"Gone," Tara finished. The shock of it all had kept Tara somewhat together, but now, as she watched Ophelia's twin fully understand the gravity of everything, reality crashed upon her as well. Her daughter was gone, and Lucius took her. Just like he did with Hannah. Tara had no idea when—or if—she'd see Ophelia again. The truth of it all was almost too much to bear. Tears began flowing. Tara cried for her daughter-in-law, for the sweet baby she carried; she cried for her beautiful Ophelia, a girl named after a man that sacrificed his life for SAMCRO. She cried for Victor's wounds. She even allowed a couple of tears to flow for Lucius—for the boy she knew. Tara knew he'd been born with a good heart, but now, as she wept, she wondered what happened to it. She watched as Delylah began to comprehend it all.
At first, Delylah stood in silence. Then, she began to cry. The tears fell quietly, but as they flowed down her cheeks, sobs began to erupt from her throat. Suddenly, Delylah was wailing and trembling, and she was almost unable to stand as she fully understood her twin had all but disappeared. Her knees buckled as she fell towards the ground, but Thomas and Jax were quick to catch her before she completely collapsed. A hollow scream burst from her as Jax and Tara pulled her close. Peel after peel echoed in the hazy North Carolina night.
Victor heard her. The tight, curtained emergency room bay they'd pushed him to was located by the entrance, and he could clearly hear Delylah's screams. Tears filled his eyes as an auburn haired nurse started an IV with ease. His entire body called to her, even though his mind clouded with pain. His head was screaming in agony, echoing his lover's emotional pain. His thoughts were cloudy as he vaguely heard the doctor giving orders.
"Mr. Sinclair, I'm Dr. Matthews," he heard the voice as the nurse pushed medicine into his veins. As he fell into a drug-induced haze, he still focused on Delylah's screams. His thoughts were only of her as he sank into unconsciousness. "You're gonna be okay."
Okay. The word sounded so foreign and strange to him now. Delylah wasn't going to be okay—even though he knew she loved him, the love Delylah had for Ophelia was of a different kind. Theirs was a bond that developed before they even came into the world, and Victor knew that if Ophelia wasn't alive, Delylah wouldn't be long for this world either.
"I'll find her," Victor vowed as he fell into peaceful oblivion. Thoughts of Ophelia, of Hannah, of Delylah plagued his memory. They all raced through his mind before he fell asleep.
Outside, Delylah stood amongst her family members, finding comfort in her mother's arms. Tara whispered in Delylah's ear, but her voice was so low, even Jax didn't know what she said. Thomas, still visibly shaken, stepped away from the fray, phone in hand. Will is probably worried sick, he thought as he dialed his partner's number. Jax watched his younger son as he held on to the only two women left in his life. Just beyond the emergency room doors, Victor was cared for. Abel was upstairs, still in ICU, fighting for his life. Jax's entire family was falling apart, and there was nothing he could do.
There was only one other time he'd felt this kind of disconnect. Charming. The town blazed in his memory as he struggled to maintain his composure. Mom is dead. We don't know who killed her. We have to find the killer. It was as if the last eighteen years had never happened; he was back in his hometown, completely helpless. Tara. Oh God, she's pregnant—twins. Memories played on loop in his psyche, and he couldn't stop them. Flashes of his mother's house—of Tara and Gemma covered in blood—he couldn't escape them; if anything, they intermingled with the scene from the kitchen tonight—Victor's dark, hooded eyes staring painfully back at him. He was covered in both his and Ophelia's blood. There was once a time where Jax thought bullet holes and gaping wounds were long forgotten, but with both Hannah and Opie missing, evil had once again made itself known.
Most of us were not violent by nature. We all had our problems with authority, but none of us were sociopaths. We came to realize that when you move your life off the social gird, you give up on the safety that society provides. On the fringe, blood and bullets are the rule of law, and if you're a man of convictions, violence is inevitable.
JT. It all began with you. Jax's thoughts shifted towards his father now. The words from his journals played on repeat in his brain. It didn't surprise him that JT's words came to him now, when he needed them most. Jax's mind still worked that way, it still sought the truth his father sought. The last eighteen years had left him comfortable, detached from the chaos. I should have known better, he thought. A man like me can't escape. It's my birthright. My fate. My destiny.
Tonight, he would make sure his wife and kids were settled. Tonight, he'd make sure they were safe. Then, he and Tig would leave the hospital. Fuck the cops, he thought as he clenched his teeth. By the time they find Opie and Hannah, they will be dead. He couldn't wait for society anymore. He trusted WitSec, and they'd failed miserably. He couldn't trust anymore. He had to find the truth himself.
He thought of Lucius, and his blood boiled. It's the ultimate betrayal, Jax thought. And I know you're not alone. Jax knew the Irish had their hands in this mess. He knew that he would have to go to war to get the girls back. After all, his mind reasoned, I am my father's son. He kept me safe. He tried to keep me free. Jax stood a little straighter as thoughts of vengeance flooded his veins. Plans for Lucius' torture resonated within his gut, and even though he knew violence wasn't the answer in proper society, he also knew that SAMCRO had never been proper. An eye for an eye was how he needed to work. A small semblance of peace filled him as his old ways began to sink back in. JT was a man of convictions. The realization felt good.
And when you're a man of convictions, a man like me, then violence is inevitable.