You guys are so adorable and I love you all. *squishes your faces*
little pictures in my head, turnin' inside-out again
cuz fuckin' up takes practice
i feel i'm well rehearsed
because the past is a bully and the future's even worse
tell me what you fear cuz i can feel it like a curse
Goo Goo Dolls, "Only One"
The guys were already there by the time Tara and Olivia got back to TM. Jax let Tara in and then barred Olivia's way, telling her in no uncertain terms to go home. Tara took one look at her face and reached around Jax to grab her hand.
"Sorry," she said. "She's my assistant."
He scowled. "Chibs is your assistant."
"That's fine," she said. "But if you want my help, then Ollie comes too."
Tara and Jax glowered at each other for a time until finally he threw his hands up in defeat. "Fine!" he said. "Just—fix him."
Chibs gave Jax a stern look and gestured for them to follow him. "We've got him back here. Like I said, it's not bad. A wee graze, really."
"Where's Juice?" Olivia said, almost out of habit. If anyone else had been hurt surely Chibs would've said—but still.
"He and Bobby are dealin' with somethin' else," Chibs said. "Some problem at Cara Cara. Not to worry, lass: Clay and Tiggy were headin' out there, too."
The porn studio. Surely he couldn't get into too much trouble there…at least not of the life-threatening variety.
Chibs stopped in front of a door and knocked, and a rough voice called for them to come in. Happy stood just inside, and Opie was on the bed with a bloody bandage around his arm. A very bloody bandage. His face was pale and shiny beneath his beard, and Olivia could see the tension around his eyes.
Tara patted Olivia's arm in a reassuring sort of way. "Happy, could you get me some hot water? And some in a glass for Opie."
"Sure, doc," he said.
"Hey, Ope," Tara said as she approached the bed. "How's it goin'?"
"Oh, ya know. Got shot. Okay other'n that."
Olivia let out an exasperated sigh, and Opie glanced at her with a grin. "What the hell you doin' here, Gable? You gonna weld me back together?"
"Maybe," she said. "If you don't shut up."
"All right, you two," Tara said. She perched on the bed next to Opie and tugged on some gloves before she peeled the bandages back. Shit. It was a little more than a wee graze like Chibs had claimed, but it looked like the bullet had gone clean through the meaty part of his arm. No major blood vessels. No bones.
"This's going to need stitches," she said. "Luckily I brought some. Opie, I'm going to inject you with a local and then get this sewn up, okay?"
"Sure, Tara. Whatever you gotta do." His eyes were trained on Olivia's face, and he lifted a brow. "You gonna hurl?"
"No," she said with a scowl. "I just don't really like the smell of blood."
She hadn't realized how little she liked it until right now, but it brought back a flood of memories. None of them good. Chibs cut her a sharp look and pressed a hand to her back.
"Maybe Jackie boy was right, lass. You're lookin' peaked."
"Go help Happy with the water, Ollie," Tara said.
She opened her mouth to protest, but another glance at the blood streaming down Opie's arm changed her mind. She spun on her heel and escaped, and out in the hall she pressed shaking hands to her face. A deep breath didn't steady her much, and she knew she needed to find a quiet place to collect herself. The guys were mostly milling around in the bar, so she ducked into the office and shut the door behind her.
The sounds from outside were instantly muffled, and she felt her entire body relax, but her mind wouldn't calm down.
It wasn't just all the old shit, the memories of blood on her hands and the smell of it filling the air, it was also the fact that it was Opie's blood. Tara hadn't seemed freaked; Olivia knew Opie was going to be fine…but she couldn't shake it, the deep-in-her-belly fear that something could go wrong. Or that the next time someone decided to take a shot at him he wouldn't be so lucky. Or, or, or. Thousands of scenarios that she knew, objectively, were crazy, but she couldn't stop them.
Why had she come back here at all? Why had she let Opie—
Let him what? So close? He'd always been close. Always right there, quiet and steady and a phone call away, like in Chicago. She'd never imagined a reality that didn't include him. They'd both gotten married, fallen out of touch, but she'd still known he was there.
What would she do if he suddenly weren't anymore? Or if she fucked everything up and he didn't want to be?
She braced her palms on the desk and closed her eyes. Took in a long breath and held it to the count of three and let it out again.
She was just starting to calm down when the door behind her opened. She spun toward the sound, and her mouth fell open when she saw Juice.
"Oh," she said. Then, because she felt like a moron, "Sorry. I meant hi."
His mouth quirked and he shut the door behind him. "Hey." He took a step closer. "You okay? You look pale and…Liv, you're shaking." Two long strides brought him to her, and he took her hands in hers.
"Your fingers are freezing." He rubbed them between his big palms, and her racing pulse started to slow. Finally.
"I thought you were at Cara Cara," she said, for lack of anything better.
"We were. Bobby and me. But Tig and Clay showed up and told us what happened to Ope—is that why you're so upset? Because of Opie? Tig said it wasn't bad."
"It's not," she said, "but Tara let me come in there with her, and he was bleeding and—" She cut herself off and her teeth sank into her lower lip.
"Ah," he said.
Of course she didn't have to explain. Of course he knew. Before everything went so wonky between them it was always so easy. He knew her. She knew him. They didn't have to waste time with explanations or excuses.
She closed her eyes and let her forehead fall to rest on his shoulder. "Please don't take this the wrong way, Juicy, but I've really missed you."
He grinned and squeezed her hands. "Don't take this the wrong way, Liv, but I missed you too." He lifted her chin so that their eyes met. "It was easier before you came back. Missing you, I mean. But since you've been here and we've been—it's fuckin' sucked, Olivia. I hate havin' you so close but this wall between us."
"I know what you mean," she said. "I've felt the same way. It's been better though, hasn't it? The past couple weeks?" Since his apology, she meant.
"Yeah," he said. "It's been better."
She searched his face, her look almost imploring, and after a moment she said, "You're okay, right? Were you—were you there?"
"I'm fine. I was at Cara Cara all mornin'."
"Good," she said on a sigh of relief.
"Wishin' now you'd stayed in Portland?" he said with a brief smile.
"A little," she admitted. She shuddered and her fingers tightened on his. "The second I smelled the blood it was like I was right back there. That night."
"I know," he said. "You don't gotta explain. I get it, Liv. You know I get it."
She drew in a breath. "Do you ever think if…maybe if all that hadn't happened, things would've fallen out differently between us?"
"Well yeah," he said. "Your dad wouldn't've moved you across the country, for one."
"There's that," she said.
"But, you know…everything happens for a reason." He grinned a little. "That's a bullshit cliché, I know, but I kinda believe it anyway. You needed to drop outta school and go on a big road trip and marry Ben and get divorced and—pierce—various parts of your body—"
"Ortiz!" she said, laughing.
He gave a sheepish shrug. "I just mean—you're sculpting again, right?"
"Yeah. Some of the best work I've ever done, I think."
"Okay," he said. "That should answer your question. Everything you've done, the life you lived, it got you here. Probably better not to fuck with that shit."
Her smile was soft, bittersweet, and she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "You're a pretty wonderful human being, Juice Ortiz."
"Yeah?" he said, his eyes going bright.
"Yep. Trust me: I'm an expert."
He brushed his lips across her knuckles and took a step back. "Can I make a request? Not because I'm tryin' to be an ass or stick my nose in or anything…but just because…" He trailed off with a shrug.
Her brows drew together. "Sure," she said. "Shoot."
He scowled down at his boots. "It's just…this is way outta line, but…and I guess you can say no, but I wanna say it anyway." At her look he hurried on. "If you start seein' somebody, like kinda serious so that they might be around here—or, I don't know—somebody from the MC, or, I don't know, whoever…could you just tell me? Gimme a heads up? Just so I don't gotta find out through the rumor mill or by accident or something. I'd rather just hear it from you."
"Ope's a friend, Juice," she said. "If I were going to be involved with someone from the MC it'd be you."
Except even as she said the words she doubted their truth, because it seemed like her entire life had led her back here, to Charming, to SAMCRO…and things never went the way she planned them.
He shoved his hands in the pockets on his kutte and ducked his head. He hadn't mentioned Opie by name, but it was telling that's where her mind had gone first thing. "But it's not gonna be me. Right?" he finally said.
"I don't think…" She bit her lip, the furrows in her forehead deepening. "I can't answer that. I'm sorry. I know that's not fair, and I'm not trying to string you along or—look, if you meet someone, go for it. Don't wait for me. And if I meet someone, I'll tell you. Okay?"
"Fuck," he said with a rusty chuckle. "It'd be so much easier if I could just stop."
"Stop what?" she said, though she thought she knew.
"Loving you, Liv. Just turn it off. Like a switch."
"I know, Juicy," she said. "Trust me: I know."
"So what do we do? Because it doesn't seem like we can be together. Not right now."
"I don't know," she said. "I wish I did. I guess just—I guess we just gotta do the best we can. I don't want to lose you. I feel like…my life's better with you in it, Juice. I know that much."
"Yeah," he said, his mouth moving in a rueful little smile. "Mine too."
"But you're right," she said. "We can't be together. Not like that. There's just…too much."
There was a soft knock at the door and Tara poked her head in. Her eyes darted briefly between Juice and Olivia, and she cleared her throat. "Ollie, I'm done. Ope's kinda doped up, but he was asking for you. I think he wanted to make sure you're okay."
Olivia snorted. "Typical. He's the one who got shot." She touched Juice's elbow as she went by. "Talk later?"
"Sure, Liv," he said. "I'm sure I'll see you around."
Tara waited until Olivia was gone before she stepped in the room and shut the door behind her. "What the fuck, Juice?"
He lifted his brows. "Hello to you too, Tara."
She let out an exasperated sigh. "Don't fuck her up again. Just don't."
"I wasn't plannin' on it. Seriously!" he said at her scowl. "We're tryin' to be friends. I care about her. All I want is for her to be happy, and I guess I know…I guess I know I'm not the one to do it."
"Really?" Tara said, grudging and suspicious.
"Really. I swear."
Finally she nodded. "Fine," she said. "But I've got a gun and I know how to use it."
"Hear you loud and clear," he said. "But, I dunno." He winced at the memory of Opie's fist flying at his face. "I think if I ever do somethin' like that again, you'll have to get in line."
"Nah," Tara said. "Best friend trumps all. Or didn't you get the memo?"
"Opie?" Olivia said as she stuck her head around the door. "You awake?"
"Yeah, Oll," he said. "Come in."
His arm was neatly bandaged and all evidence of blood had been swept away. Olivia relaxed and sat down on the edge of the bed. "So," he said.
"So."
"Big day, huh?"
"You could say that," he said with a grin.
She cast a glare at him and turned her back. "You're a dumbass."
"What? What'd I do?"
"You got shot!"
"Well, yeah, but wasn't like it was my fault."
She crossed her arms over her stomach and hunched her shoulders. He stared at the tense curve of her back and his smile widened.
"You're pissed at me," he said. For some reason the idea tickled the hell out of him.
"Yup."
"Guess I shoulda dodged it."
"Yup."
"I will next time. Matrix style."
"Good."
He swallowed down a chuckle. "Ollie, c'mere."
"I'm here," she said.
"Nah, here." He patted the bed next to him, on his good side. "Quit poutin'."
"I'm not pouting. I'm an adult. A grown-ass adult who does not pout."
"Uh huh. Would you just come here?"
She made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl and bent to unlace her boots. Kicked them away and crawled up the bed to stretch out next to him. "You can't just do things like this, Opie."
"What? Get shot?" He snorted. "Wasn't my first choice, believe me."
"What would I do if something happened to you? Something serious, I mean."
"I dunno. Cry a little and move on?"
She glared at him. "I'm serious, Harry!"
"All right, all right," he said. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. Her head fell to land on his shoulder and her arm went around his middle. "You're a survivor, Oll. You'd be okay. You're always okay."
"That isn't exactly a compliment, Ope. People say that to me all the time, and it always makes me feel so…heartless. I'm not heartless."
"I know you aren't. That's not how I meant it."
"So why does everybody think I'm just okay with everything? That nothing sticks? Things stick, Opie. I'm like fuckin' velcro."
"Emotional velcro?"
She nodded. "Exactly."
He hid a smile in his beard. "I'm pretty sure people don't think you're heartless, babe. More like—you deal with things kinda different. In your own way. And you sorta…you shut people out a lot. Ever since your mom died, I guess."
She made a low noise. "It's not on purpose."
"I know," he said.
A silence fell between them and he enjoyed the feel of her against him. She was small and soft and smelled real good. His brain was fuzzy and happy, the pain in his arm far away, and he was content to float along on the cloud of drugs Tara had given him.
She sniffed, just a little. "Tara's my best friend. My forever best friend, and nobody will ever take her place."
"I know," he said again. He carded his fingers through her hair. "I'm like your surrogate best friend. The backup, in case the actual best friend can't perform her duties."
"No you're not." She poked him in the belly. "You're my…my guy best friend, which isn't quite the same, but it's still real important."
"Ahh," he said. "I see."
"Quit bein' a dick," she said.
"I'm sorry. I'm not tryin' to be a dick, just…it ain't that bad, Oll. Tara said the bullet went straight through, no big deal."
She tugged his beard until he turned his head to look at her. "It might have been a big deal. It might've missed your arm and hit your big dumb head instead."
"Geez, Olivia, your concern is heartwarming."
"I'm serious!"
He let out a long-suffering sigh. "Calm down, Ollie, okay? Please? I don't want you upset."
She sniffled again, a bit harder. "I know," she said. "I'm trying. Just you know the last time I saw someone with a bullet hole it wasn't…I mean, it sucked pretty hard."
He hadn't really thought of that. "Oh," he said. "Hum." He considered it a minute. "You wanna go stab the Mayan who shot me? I think Jax'd drive you."
"Opie! God you're such an asshole!"
He laughed, sort of loose and sloppy. "You love me."
She grumbled something he didn't catch, but he was too looped to ask her about it.
"Ollie, you know what I was thinkin'?"
She looked up at him with a frown. "That you're a pain in my ass and you're damn lucky I put up with you?"
"That, yeah," he said, gravely, "but also like…your sculpture. The one I saw? It was. It was real awesome. Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds or some shit."
"You don't even like The Beatles."
"Nah, I know. I just mean that, kinda…spirit. Like, uh. Outside, yanno?"
She blinked at him, a smile curving her mouth. "Wow. What the fuck did Tara give you?"
"Dunno. Good shit. Think I might sleep."
"Okay," she said. She started to slip away, but he held her tight.
"Nuh uh. Stay. Please?"
She bit her lip. She had stuff to do—the blowtorch was calling her name—but she could've lost him today. No, the gunshot wasn't bad, but it could've been, and then what? She and Juice were slowly working their way back to a tenuous friendship. She had Tara, of course; would always have Tara; but what would she do without Opie?
She'd been back four months and somehow he'd made himself a permanent place in her life, like an Opie-shaped hole that only he could fill. It had been like that between them once, years ago, but after they broke up things never really went back to the way they'd been before. She'd always regretted the loss, had never fully gotten over it, and she thought he felt the same way.
"Opie—"
"S'okay. You don' gotta say nothin'. I know."
"You know what?" she said.
"Everythin'. Be here when I wake up."
He was almost asleep, and she brushed her lips against his cheek. "Sure, Ope," she said. "I'll be here."
"Promise?"
"I promise. Go to sleep."
Thirty seconds later he was snoring, but when Olivia tried to wiggle free he squeezed her against him. She sighed. Well. A nap might not be too bad.
A lot of conflicted feelings here for everyone involved, but I'm sure it'll work out.