Aaaannd we're back! See the end for a slightly more rambly author's note with some explanations of some shit.
Thanks for the reviews, loves. They warm my heart and help me through these blocks I've been having the last several days. :)
wondering about the things he'd done
thinking about his life and the fun he'd had
choices that he made and roads he had taken
and he thought about his kids and all the crazy things he did
and he wondered if anything at all really matters
when your life is almost over and there is no hope to be found
when you're dying and blood is spilling out all over the ground
and the last words he said although he hardly made a sound
and he spoke each word in spanish cause he couldnt speak no english
he said i'm good now
Bob Schneider, "I'm Good Now"
After Gemma kicked them out of the weight room, Juice went looking for Olivia. He realized she might not've heard about Opie. He didn't want her to find out accidentally, or later when everyone started to show up for the service. He thought it would be better for her to hear it directly, and he felt guilty for not thinking of it sooner.
He checked the garage. Empty. She still didn't have her car, and he hadn't seen her in the clubhouse. Maybe she hadn't come in today, or had already gone home. He thought about calling her, but he had one place left to check. The office was dark, the blinds closed, but when he tried the door it opened.
She sat on the couch with her head bowed. There was a box of tissues next to her, and a neat pile of balled up used ones at her feet. He flipped on the light. When she lifted her chin to look at him, her face was red and blotchy, her eyes swollen, her expression devastated.
"Fuck," he muttered.
"I thought I locked that one, too," she said.
He shut the door behind him and locked it. He hesitated for a moment before he sat down next to her. "Babe—"
"I don't understand, Juicy. I don't—what is wrong with this place?" Her voice was dazed and disbelieving, her eyes blank. "Sack and Miles and Kozik and Piney. Donna and Hale and Luann and Veronica Pope. It's like a sick joke. There're no happy endings here, Juice. None. Just death and nihilism."
He had no idea what nihilism meant, but he couldn't imagine it was anything good. He felt helpless in the face of her grief, and he knew there was nothing he could say that would make anything better. Especially since she was right.
He put his arm around her and pulled her close. Brushed his lips over the top of her head and just held on. Her shoulders shook and he felt a growing wetness against his shirt. He let her cry. Like she'd done for him the night he tried to swing from that tree, he didn't try to hush her or offer reassurances or hollow comfort.
"He wasn't even supposed to be there," she said.
"He made a choice, Liv."
"I know he did. He made a choice and I'm the one who told him to."
He frowned at her, nonplussed. "Babe, what—?"
"That day he came over to my place we talked about it and I said he needed to choose: in or out, for good and all. I guess he did."
He raised her chin and ran a hand over her face. "Don't do that. Don't try to take this on. It wasn't you. Opie and Jax were best friends practically since birth. If anyone was gonna do this, it'd be Ope."
She hissed and pushed away. "But for what, Juice? For this club? What did the club ever give him? The club killed his wife and his father. The club sent him to prison for five years. He didn't owe this fucking MC a goddamn thing."
He reached for her, and when she tried to bat his hands away he wouldn't let her. "Not for the club. For Jax. For his best friend. They were brothers above and beyond SAMCRO. You know that, Olivia."
Her breath hitched on a sob and she looked away. "Jackson Teller didn't deserve him."
He winced but didn't disagree. He and Opie hadn't been all that close. Juice had done his prospect year and been patched in while Opie was inside, and once he got out he tended to stick mainly with Jax or Bobby or sometimes Chibs. But regardless of whether they'd been best buddies or virtual strangers, Opie had been a brother. He had sacrificed himself for Jax and (no matter what he said to Olivia) the club. Contrast that with Juice who had stolen from the club and killed a brother. Miles' name had been on Olivia's list of the dead, and Juice was the one who'd put it there.
Opie Winston, no matter what the measure, was ten times the man he was.
"I'm not sure any of us did," he said at last.
She sniffled. "I need to go find Lyla. She shouldn't be alone right now."
"In a minute," he said and pulled her back down.
She didn't bother to argue, just nodded and leaned against him. He wrapped his arms around her again.
"No more of this, Juicy. I can't take it. What if it had been you? I could be where Lyla is right now, except I'm not even officially your old lady, so—"
"Hey." He kissed her forehead. "It's not gonna be me."
"You don't know that. They give you all the scut shit to do and I know you don't watch out for yourself—"
"I watch out for myself fine."
"Oh, bullshit. I know better than that. You've had some bizarre death wish ever since that shit went down with Miles."
"That was—" He broke off and ducked his head. His jaw worked. "I'm still strugglin' with it, Liv."
"I know you are, baby," she said, gently. "I don't expect you to just get over it, but you've got to be more careful, Juice. Promise me. I can't—I can't even think about if something were to happen to you."
"Nothing's gonna happen. I promise."
She glowered but decided to accept it. She ran a hand down her face and shook her head. "You know Opie was the first friend I made here. You and I were"—she huffed out a chuckle—"either making out or fighting every time we saw each other. Chibs was always cool, and he and I might be closer now since I think Lyla might've gotten me in the separation, but—yeah. He used to come into the garage and just sit there."
"And do what?" he said, his face scrunching.
She hitched a shoulder. "Work, sometimes. Tinker with something or paint. But usually nothing. Just watch me work. Offer an opinion every now and then. I don't know. It sounds weird, I guess, but…we never had to say much. I liked that."
She swiped the heel of her hand across her cheek. "I hate this place sometimes, Juicy. I know it's your home, and I know they're your family, but—"
"I know," he said.
When she looked up at him her eyes were big and impossibly sad. "What do we do now? Do we just keep on going? Pretend nothing's changed? Pretend that this place isn't killing us all off one by one?"
"I don't know." He took her face in his hands and kissed her. "All I know is I love you, Olivia. I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner. I'm sorry it took something like this for me to nut up. I just—I need you to know."
"You think I didn't know?" she said, her voice soft and just a little teasing.
"Sometimes it's nice to hear."
"True." Her brow furrowed and she traced the lines of his face with soft fingers. "I love you too, Juicy. In case you were wondering."
A grin wide enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes unfurled beneath her touch. "I know you do. You've been crazy about me since day one."
"Is that so?"
"Yup. Head over heels. Heart eyes and the whole thing."
"Watch it, Ortiz. Just because I'm sad doesn't mean I can't kick your ass."
"Promises, promises."
She choked on a laugh. Their lips met and she melted against him. He gathered her close and brushed her hair back. They were quiet for a long time, and the lot outside was eerily empty. The place had shut down in honor of its fallen son.
She stirred. "Do you think you'd have time to take me home? Could Clay spare you?"
"Yeah, of course," he said with a frown. "Don't you wanna be here for the thing tonight?"
"I just need to pick something up. And grab a change of clothes." She was dressed for work, and she'd already been inappropriately attired for one major occasion this month; she wasn't going to let it happen again.
He huffed out a breath. "Liv—"
"It's important, Juice," she said. "It's a sign of respect. And, honestly, I don't want a lecture on my sartorial choices from someone who belongs to a group that dictates literally every stitch of clothing he wears."
He didn't really have an argument for that, so he just acknowledged the truth of it with a tilt of his head. "You ready to go now?" he said.
"No. Let's stay here a little longer."
"Works for me," he said. She curled up against his side and he toyed with the trailing end of her braid.
"We're gonna be okay, Liv," he said at last. "You and me."
She hesitated. Then, "You and me, Juicy," she murmured into his chest. "Nothing else matters."
She said the words, and they were a comfort, but some part of her doubted whether any of them could possibly be okay again.
By the time Juice and Olivia arrived back at TM the wake was in full swing. The lot was packed and the clubhouse overflowing. She fought her way through the crowd and caught Lyla just as she turned away from a conversation with Jax.
The blonde stopped short at the side of her, and for a second her expression was stoic. Then her face fell and she threw herself at Olivia.
"I can't believe this's really happening, Ollie," she said through her tears.
"I know, sweetheart. I can't either."
"He came to see me the day he went in. He gave me a bunch of money and asked me to keep the kids for a few weeks. That was the last time I saw him, and now he's—" She broke off with a curse. "We had problems, you know? But I never stopped loving him."
"He loved you too, Lyla. He just—too much had been taken from him. There wasn't enough of him left."
She sniffled and wiped her cheeks with a tissue. "Everyone's being so nice to me."
"Of course they are. You're Opie's old lady, and even if you weren't, everybody here loves you."
That set off a fresh storm of tears and Olivia embraced her again.
The were still locked together when Gemma appeared. She cleared her throat. "All right, break it up. It's a wake not an orgy."
That brought watery smiles all around. Gemma wrapped her arms around Lyla and squeezed. "How you doin', baby?" she said.
"Not great," Lyla admitted. "I'm still in shock, I think."
"We all are," Olivia said.
Gemma hugged her next, and Olivia could tell she'd been crying. Opie had been like a second son to her, and despite her carefully applied makeup, grief was evident in the lines of her face.
"I thought you would've been here sooner," Gemma said to her.
"I had to run home for something." She fished a photograph out of her jacket pocket and offered it to Lyla. "Remember that?"
She laughed and pressed a hand to her mouth. It was a picture of Opie. He had the fat beam that was to become Olivia's mantel over one shoulder and he was grinning. The afternoon sun glinted off the gold in his mouth. He looked…happy. Content, even.
"You remember when he offered you twenty bucks to pick out a new mantel? He said he'd pay for it and give you the twenty just for your trouble."
"He hated that thing," Olivia said. "It looks amazing, though, thanks to all of his hard work. I never would've gotten the place done without him."
"Dammit, Ollie," Gemma said. "You're gonna make me cry all over again."
Just then Tara broke off from Jax' side and joined them in the chapel doorway. More hugs were exchanged, more tears, and Olivia excused herself to pay her respects.
They had him laid out in state on the table. She closed her eyes a moment as a wave of dizziness washed over her. It shouldn't have been him. He deserved better. He deserved some peace and some happiness and a chance to rebuild his life. She didn't think it was possible to accomplish any of those things in Charming, California. Opie's fate was what awaited all of them in this dangerous, fucked-up world of drug cartels and gun running. What a fool she'd been to believe otherwise.
She propped the photo against his shoulder. That had been a good day. Chibs and Kozik had manned the grill while a pregnant and grumpy Tara complained because they wouldn't let her do anything. Gemma had brought pie and cookies and played with Abel in the backyard under the big water oak. Lyla and Olivia painted the kitchen and the guys helped move the appliances in and ultimately Opie had gotten the mantel beam into place. Idilic. That was the word that came to mind.
But the missing faces told the story. Jax, Tig, Juice, Happy, Clay, and Bobby all in prison for shooting up a church. That day was one of the happiest memories she had of her entire time in Charming, and she couldn't think of it without also thinking of how fucking fleeting it all was, and how even the brightest day was just a bandage, a temporary stopgap against the darkness that lurked under everything here.
One of the rockiest times in their friendship had happened when Opie found out about Lyla's abortion. He had raged at Olivia about it, and about the birth control pills, and Olivia, furious at his presumption, had told him she had been the one to take Lyla to the clinic (Tara had been there, too, but she left her name out of it.). She thought he might explode from rage.
She killed my kid, Ollie! And you helped her! he'd said.
Her body, her choice, Opie. Did you even ask her if she wants more kids? Did that occur to you? Or were you too busy trying to dictate how she should live her life?
He'd stormed out and they hadn't spoken for almost two weeks. They'd only recently made up, as a matter of fact; just before things really started to heat up with the cartel. Before he found his father's body and shot Clay.
She was glad they had parted friends. She was glad he'd come to see her that last morning and they'd talked, even if she'd given him advice that she now regretted.
Except, she thought, if it hadn't been Opie it would've been one of the other guys. Jax or Tig or Chibs. Jax, most likely. And how would Opie have lived with that? His wife. His father. His best friend. And the constant thought that if he had been there he could've done—well. Exactly what he had done. He had been so lost. One more blow would have finished him as surely as that goddamn pipe to the head.
"I hope you find what you're looking for, mon ami," she murmured. Suddenly overcome, she turned away with a jerk and nearly collided with a crow eater. She mumbled an apology and shoved back out to the main room. It was so crowded. Everyone offered kind words and hugs and fortifying shoulder squeezes. She knew they weren't really for her. Everyone was mourning and they all drew comfort from each other, but if one more person touched her she might scream.
She burst through the office door in a blind panic only to stop short. Nero and Jax were there, clearly deep in conversation about something. "Oh!" she said. "I'm sorry. I didn't—"
"It's okay," Nero said. "I think we were done here. Yeah, Jax?"
"Yep. Thanks for your time, homes."
The two men exchanged a handshake, and as Nero moved past her he looked for a moment like he might pat her arm. Something in her face stopped him. He offered a nod of weary recognition instead and slipped out the door.
She took a long, shaky breath and let it out. "I'm sorry," she said again. "I just had to get away from—" She waved a hand back the way she'd come. "All that."
"It's fine," he said. "I kinda wanted to talk to you anyway."
His tone gave her pause. "Is this really the time, Jackson?"
He shrugged a shoulder. "If not now, when?"
She sighed and stepped further into the room. "I assume Bobby and Chibs filled you in on the situation."
He lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. "Yep," he said and blew out a stream of smoke.
"Okay, then. What else do you need?"
"You really got no idea why this guy would redo your deal?"
She was so sick of answering the same fucking questions five hundred times. "No, Jackson, I don't. He didn't strike me as the type of man who usually explains himself. He just acts."
"Hhmm." He flicked some ash and studied her. "He still got Otto."
"I don't know anything about Otto," she said. "He didn't mention it."
"Tara's gonna see if she can get close to him. Try to convince him to recant or some shit."
Her eyes narrowed. "You would use literally anyone to get what you want, wouldn't you?"
He straightened, ground out the cigarette in an ashtray, and strode toward her. "Tara cares about this club, Ollie. She understands how important it is to this town."
"To the town, Jax, or to you?"
"Both."
"Okay. As long as we're being honest." She lifted a brow and crossed her arms. "I did my part. I upheld my end. The club's still safe from RICO and no one got ratted out. Are you going to come through with your end?"
"I haven't moved on Juice or taken it to the table."
"Yet."
"As long as he doesn't fuck up again I won't."
"And what about him earning his way back in?"
"I'm workin' on that. An opportunity hasn't really presented itself yet."
She moved closer and lowered her voice. "I don't know what's going on right now, Jax, and frankly I don't want to. But is Opie's death part of some larger beef? Is everyone in danger? Those home invasions—"
"Ope and the home invasions ain't related. At least I don't think so. Unser doesn't think so." He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "I got some things goin' to get us out of drugs and guns and to get us square with Pope. You heard about all that?"
"Juice told me what he knows."
"You familiar at all with this guy?"
"I'm relatively new to California," she said with a frown.
"Uh huh. But not new to guys like him."
She glanced away. Back. "I've heard the name."
"Then you got some idea what we're up against."
"What he did to Tig's daughter—"
"Fuckin' savage," he spat.
She shrugged a shoulder. "Typical, honestly. Gotta send that message."
He eyed her warily. "It seems like you should be more rattled by all this."
"Rattled?" She choked out a dry chuckle. "Baby, my knuckles are white. I've just had thirteen years to practice my poker face." She cast a look toward the door. "We should get back, Jax. They'll be wondering where you are."
"Ollie," he said.
She stopped with her hand on the doorknob. "Jax."
He tried to speak and had to stop to clear his throat before he could go on. "Ope told me—right after we had the vote to send you to Potter, we talked about it. He said you were a real friend to him and Lyla while we were all inside."
Her face contorted and she was glad he couldn't see. "He and Lyla were real friends to me," she said, quietly.
"I just wanted to thank you. You did good by him. It matters."
She bowed her head. "Just keep your promises, Jax. That's all the thanks I want. Take care of Juice. End this cartel bullshit. Settle the beef with Pope."
"You make it sound easy."
"No," she said, meeting his eyes over her shoulder. "I know it's not. I just think that in the wake of your best friend's sacrifice, you should be thinking less about revenge and more about keeping what you have."
"Says the woman who fucked up her chance at a clean getaway so she could shoot her husband."
"Says the woman," she said and rounded on him, "who understands better than most that there's a time and a place for revenge, and when your back's against the wall that isn't it."
"Whose back's against the wall? I got plenty of room."
"Right," she said. She huffed out a breath and shook her head. "You know who you sound like, don't you?" His brows drew together in a question and she flicked her fingers. "Clay Morrow, Jackson. You sound like your stepfather. And look where he is now."
Jax had told Bobby not to confront Romeo and Luis about Olivia's new deal until after they were out of jail. The meeting had been put on hold again because of Opie's service, but now, with his best friend in the ground and his club on the line, he and Bobby went to meet with the cartel bosses-cum-CIA agents.
They got to the meet first, and after they dismounted and lit some cigarettes Bobby fixed Jax with one of those probing looks that left him feeling like a dumb kid with skinned knees.
"What, Bobby?" he said. "Spit it out."
He released a long stream of smoke. "You really think after buildin' that case against us, after pullin' all those strings to get Otto to talk, that US Attorney would just let Ollie go outta the goodness of his heart?"
Jax gave a restless shrug. His eyes were trained on some point in the far distance. "I don't know, man. Seems unlikely."
"We got these assholes threatenin' us with RICO right and left. So what the fuck? Either we're protected or we're not."
He waved a hand. "Hence this meeting. Look, the bottom line is this: do you trust her?"
Bobby mulled it over for a time. "She hadn't really given us any reason not to."
Jax grunted. "Ringing endorsement."
He huffed in agreement. "Let's say I do, though. Let's say I think she's a decent kid who's had a lot of bad shit happen to her and I don't think she's out to fuck us over."
"Okay," Jax said. "Let's say I mostly agree with that."
Bobby cut his eyes over but let it go. "So then the question becomes do we trust US Attorney Lincoln Potter."
Jax flicked his cigarette away and blew out the last of the smoke. "Absolutely fucking not."
"So what do we do about these motherfuckers?" Bobby said and jerked his chin toward the black SUV that had just rolled into view over the hill.
"Fuck if I know. They could lie to us like anybody else, I guess. How are we supposed to know if a deal's legit or not?"
"There's gotta be an eight hundred number or something."
"One Eight Hundred Fuck the Police," Jax said with a grimace.
Bobby acknowledged that with a guffaw and fell in line behind Jax as they ambled toward the SUV. The doors opened and Luis and Romeo climbed out. They met halfway between the bikes and the car. Jax lit another cigarette.
"Glad to see your problem cleared up," Romeo said. "Sorry to hear about your man."
"Sorry." Jax snorted and looked away. "Fuck you and your apology. If you'd give us the help I asked for with Pope, he wouldn't be dead right now."
He raised his hands. "I did what I could, Jackson. You need to keep your people closer."
Jax clenched his jaw and swallowed the burning knot of fury that rose in his throat. "Whatever. That's not why I called this meeting." He met Romeo's eyes and smiled, a hard baring of teeth. "I thought I should tell you face to face that we're out. We're done with the drugs, and as soon as I get things square with the Irish we'll be done with the guns."
Romeo and Luis shared a long look. Something like amusement passed over Romeo's face. "I think I must've misheard. You can't be out. Have you forgotten about RICO?"
He took a long drag on his cigarette. "RICO's dead, amigo. We got a deal."
Another glance between the two agents, and this time they definitely looked tickled as all fuck about something. "You mean this deal?" Romeo said.
Luis pulled a folded document out of his jacket pocket and flattened it. He displayed it for them to read. Jax could clearly see Olivia's name printed at the top: Audra Munro Flanary, née Audra Jameson Munro. The date was the day they'd taken her into custody, but she'd said Potter had backdated it.
"Yeah," Jax said, suddenly unsure. "That's the one. Our girl says it protects us from RICO. You say she's lyin'?"
Romeo shrugged. "I don't know about that. Never met the girl." A lighter appeared in his hand. He flicked it open.
Jax and Bobby exchanged nervous looks.
"What the fuck, Romeo?" Jax said. "You can't keep holdin' this RICO bullshit over our heads. We're out. It's done."
He made a long, thoughtful noise and struck a flame. He smiled at Jax, all threat and no humor, and touched the flame to the corner of the paper. It burned fast, stoked by the wind, and Luis dropped it when just a scrap was left and stamped it out.
"What the fuck?!" Jax roared. "You can't do shit like that! She made a deal!"
"That deal was bullshit, Jackson," Luis said. "Not worth the paper it was written on."
"Your man Potter didn't get what he wanted out of that raid. Not a single arrest was made. Deal's null and void," Romeo said.
"He didn't have authorization to do it in the first place. Full exemption from RICO for one little tip on a guns deal?" Luis snorted. "Fuck that."
"So as you can see, Jackson, I think we're still very much in business." Romeo didn't wait for an answer. He nodded, grinned, and started back for the car. "We'll be in touch," he said without a backwards glance.
The doors slammed behind them and the SUV roared off in a cloud of dust. Jax and Bobby stared after it with near-identical expressions of stunned disbelief.
"The fuck, man?" Bobby said.
"Call Ollie," Jax growled. "Tell her we need to have a chat."
I took a break to (obviously) finish this chapter, and also to write ch23. While I was working on it I realized that my main block is coming from s5 itself. Like, I know a LOT of what I'm going to do in s6, and even a little of what I'm going to do beyond that, but s5 is just a tangled bag of nonsense (tbh our friend Lincoln Potter would say this show descended into bathos somewhere mid-s4).
Anyway. The upshot is I'm making some drastic changes to s5. Some of the biggest plot beats will still be the same, but others...won't. That'll be a lot more evident in ch24+.
Also. Sometimes I look at the relationship between Juice and Olivia and think, "WHOA this is all moving way too fast!" Then I recall that we're actually something like 30 months into her tenure at Teller-Morrow, and they've basically been dancin' around each other the entire time. That puts it into perspective a little.