Our quote today is brought to us by one of Bob Schneider's most drug-addled, hallucinatory songs. Good luck with it.

And thanks, as always, to those of you who've reviewed!

i know where tomorrow be too damn far away
today ain't my cup of tea and everything is grey
knucked out and lost all the bats have flown
monsters in the closet's all i've ever known
Bob Schneider, "Gold In the Sunset"

Gemma pulled to a stop in front of the cabin and cut the ignition. "I gotta talk to Jax about something. Go on inside and see about the girl," she said.

Olivia raised a brow. "No one actually asked us to come up here, did they?"

Gemma's lips twisted in a wry smile. "Gave me an excuse to drive this way. And, besides, do you really want these jug heads taking care of that girl alone?"

"As if you need an excuse." Gemma did what she wanted, and everyone else better hang on or get out of the way. It was a life philosophy Olivia could respect, all told.

She hopped out and shut the door behind her. She nodded to Jax as they passed each other, but rather than go straight inside she paced a moment to work out the stiffness in her hip. Normally she was fine in a car for such a short ride, but since her time in the hospital she hadn't been her usual spry self.

She'd just started for the porch when they heard the shot. Confused shouting came from inside, and Olivia froze in place.

"Ollie!" Jax called in an urgent whisper. "Get down!"

She spun toward the SUV and saw him crouched low with his gun drawn. Gemma was behind him, and she made a frantic come here gesture. They didn't know what was happening, but there was no way it could be good.

The cabin door opened and a blond girl with a shotgun burst through it. She ran straight toward Olivia.

"Darvy!" Arcadio cried. He was right on her heels, his own weapon out. Most of the club hurtled out the door after them. "Darvy, baby, don't do this!"

She was incoherent, screaming and crying, and as she closed in Olivia raised her hands and scurried backwards toward the Lincoln. Darvany yelled at Jax to put his gun down, and after a moment he did. Olivia pressed her back against the car and slowly reached toward her pocket. She had no idea what good a knife would do against a shotgun, but she felt better with it in her hand.

Gemma appeared around the car with a gun. The girl saw her and let out a terrified sob. She pulled the trigger, maybe by accident, maybe on purpose. The shot went wild, ricocheted off the metal, and Olivia felt a searing blaze across her hip. She might have made a noise or she might have said nothing; she had no idea. All she knew was that one minute she'd been upright, and the next she was on the ground.

She hit the dirt and rolled. Arcadio begged Darvany to put the gun down, but she was hysterical. The guys were on the porch yelling nonsense. Their voices sounded a hundred miles away. Her hip felt like it had been attacked by wasps, a burning, stinging pain that darkened her vision. She brushed her hand over it and it came away red.

She hauled herself up so that she was propped against the SUV. Arcadio was half-in-half-out of the driver's side. His heavy black boot was close enough for her to touch. She stared at it. The knife was tangled in her fingers, blade out—she was lucky she hadn't cut herself when she fell—and with a sort of disconnected feeling, like she was watching someone else, she raised it above her head and drove it directly into his foot.

His screech was cut short by a rifle blast.

Olivia closed her eyes, and when she opened them again Juice's face filled her vision. His eyes were huge and his skin was a funny grayish-green color. She smiled and tried to pat his cheek, but she hadn't let go of the knife and she was sitting on her left hand.

"Hi, babe," she said.

"She fucking shot you, Liv!" he cried. It wasn't the first thing he'd said, but it was the first thing she understood.

Her brow furrowed. "Yeah, I guess so. Huh. Never been shot before."

"She's in shock," Chibs said. "We need to get her inside."

"Nah, I'm okay. I just need to sit down a sec."

"Lass, you are sittin' down."

"Oh," she said. She looked around in surprise. "Okay. I think I need to pass out then."

And that was exactly what she did.

When she came to a few minutes later she was stretched out in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. Her hip hurt like the blue blazes, but she couldn't really remember why. She tried to sit up, but she let out a yelp of pain and fell back against the pillows again.

Chibs appeared in her line of sight. "Ach, you're awake." He frowned. "Would've been nice if you'd stayed out a bit longer."

"Sorry," she said in a thready voice. "I'll try to do better next time." He wore his glasses and held a bloody pair of tweezers. "What the fuck, Chibs?"

"Just a wee bit of buckshot, lass. Nothing to worry about. It barely grazed you. Picking out a few pieces and you'll be good as new. Not sure I'll even have to stitch you up."

She tilted her head and got a good look at her hip. He'd cut her jeans from ankle to waist, but the denim had been shredded anyway. A series of small, stippling wounds decorated her skin. A few of them looked bad (from her point of view, anyway), but most were, like Chibs said, only scrapes.

"Jesus motherfucking Christ," she said on a long breath. Memories started to filter back in muddy, jerky flashes.

He held up a finger. "You were lucky today, Ollie girl. I'd not tempt fate now by blaspheming."

Her brows quirked and she let her head loll back. "The girl shot me. Darvany."

"Aye, that's the one." He nodded toward the bedside table. "Take those. They'll help with the pain."

She grabbed the two pills and tossed them back. Washed them down with the bottle of water he shoved closer with his elbow. "What did I just take?"

He looked at her over his glasses. "Maybe you shoulda asked that before. Not allergic to anything, are you?"

"No. Just curious."

"Ah. Well, just oxy. Nothin' too serious."

She snorted. "Right."

He grinned and got back to work. She flinched as he probed. "Sorry, love. Try to hold still."

She clenched a wad of sheet in her hand and tried to do as he said. "Who, ah—fuck—who shot Arcadio?"

"Nero."

"Oh hell."

He sniffed. "Cost him dear, but he had no choice, what with the girl's hair trigger and all."

"Where is she now?"

"The other room. We got her tied to the bed."

She palmed the sweat off her forehead and huffed out a pained laugh. "Wow, Chibs. Cut one girl's clothes off, tie another to a bed. What exactly do you boys get up to when I'm not around?"

"Ha! Aye, well, she's melting down a bit. Thinks we're gonna kill her."

She grabbed his arm and he looked up in surprised. "Are you?"

"No, lass, Christ! What kinda people do you think we are? We're not in the business of killin' innocent girls. And even if we were, Nero doesn't want her hurt."

Somehow she wasn't comforted. She shivered a little and he offered a reassuring smile.

"Don't trouble your head about her, darlin'. I'll get you all fixed up and you can have a nice rest."

"Where's Juice?" she said after a moment.

"He was in here, but Jax sent him to sit with the girl. He was gettin' in the way."

She tensed and he clucked his tongue. "Is he in there alone with her?"

"Ollie—"

"Just answer the question."

"No," he said with a furrowed brow. "Some of Nero's boys are in there, too, last I checked. They finally got back with a wee bit for her."

"Dope."

"Aye," he said, his mouth twisting in amusement.

She swallowed hard and tried to make her mind work around the haze of pain. Her hand was on Chibs' arm again. She squeezed. "Jax sent Juice to sit with her."

"Aye…?"

"Do me a favor. Check and make sure he's not in there alone."

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Really, girl, do you honestly think—"

"Of course I don't," she snapped. She closed her eyes. Opened them again. "Check, please. Just humor me, Chibby."

He glowered and dropped the tweezers into a cup of rubbing alcohol on the nightstand. Stripped off his bloody gloves and went to the door. He poked his head out into the main room.

"She's askin' for Juicy. He still with the girl?" he said.

"Yeah," came Tig's voice. "Makin' sure she drops off."

"Nero's lads can sit with her for a moment, yeah?"

Someone further away said something she couldn't make out, and then Jax: "They had somethin' to take care of. Juice'll be out as soon as he fixes her up. Tell Ollie to hang on a few minutes."

"Aye, will do." Chibs shut the door and turned toward her with a troubled frown. "Satisfied, lass?"

"You don't look like you are."

He hesitated. "Odd thing. Nero specifically said he wanted his boys on her, too."

"Doesn't trust Jax. Smart move." She panted a moment as the pain spiked and her face went pale. "Jax sent Juice into that room alone, Chibs. He did it for a reason."

Their eyes met. Chibs tried to come up with another explanation, but it all fit. Her words from the other day echoed in his memory, about how Juice would do literally anything to get back right with the club. He could picture Juice on his knees, the look on his face as Chibs had pummeled him and the way he kept coming back for more. Jax had been erratic of late. Untrustworthy, to be brutally honest. He'd made big decisions without the club's vote and had killed men for far less than the danger this one strung-out junkie girl represented.

"Fuck me," he muttered.

"You need to get in there," she said, her tone urgent. "But don't—don't let them know. Jax will deny everything and they'll blame Juice."

He was gone before she finished the sentence. She heard him say a brusque word or two to one of the guys, and then the sound of a door as it opened and closed. She screwed her eyes shut against another frisson of pain and hoped he wasn't too late.

Chibs was relieved that Jax was gone when he stepped out in the main room, so he only had to dodge a few questions before he made it to the other bedroom. He opened the door just wide enough to slip inside and closed it behind him.

Juice has leaning over the girl with a pillow pressed to her face. He jumped away when he saw Chibs, and his eyes took on a panicked light. "I just—she just—" He stopped. His face fell. "Fuck."

"Don't just sit there with your thumb up your ass, lad. Is it too late?" Chibs rushed forward and shoved the pillow aside. Her eyes were fixed and staring. Chibs pressed an ear to her chest and heard a faint flutter. She took a halting, fitful breath and let it out. "She's not gone yet. You didn't kill her, Juicy."

He raised his head and tears streaked his cheeks. "What…?" He held his fingers above her mouth and felt a brush of air. "No, no, no! She's gotta be—Jax told me—"

He reached for the pillow but Chibs stopped him. "Enough. Jax told you to kill her, aye?"

"I don't think you were supposed to know."

"Ach, well, tough shit. I do know. What did he say to you?"

He shrugged. His chin hung to his chest and his shoulders slumped dismally. "He said she was a danger to the club. She shot Ollie because she's unstable, and we can't trust her not to rat about the gun. He told me I had to take care of her."

"Or…?"

"What do you think, Chibs? He'd go to the club about Miles. He'd make sure I lost my patch and got buried in an unmarked grave somewhere."

Chibs' eyes narrowed. "He said all that, did he?"

Juice's head lifted and fell in a miserable nod. "Because I told him I wouldn't do it." He brushed her hair off her forehead and smoothed it around her face. "She didn't do anything wrong. She lost her kid. Of course she's out of her mind. She just needs some time, that's all. She doesn't deserve—" He broke off and looked away. "Olivia wouldn't want her dead just because of what happened. I know that."

Chibs grasped his shoulder and squeezed. "You're right, laddie. We're supposed to be protecting her. And what would our good OG say if he knew?"

"Jax told me to send his guys away. Tell them I'd shoot her up, so that later we could tell Nero it was a hotshot or something."

"How do you even know how to do this, Juicy?" he said as he poked at the drug paraphernalia on the bed.

He swiped a hand down his face. "I had a problem when I was younger." His mouth pursed and his brows drew together. "My mom died when I was a kid—cancer—and I got bounced around the system. Foster homes, group homes, all that bullshit. Eventually I picked up a needle."

He hitched a shoulder and shook his head. "Then I moved out here and fucked around some more, and finally I got clean and started hangin' around TM." He hesitated. "The club's kept me clean. Probably woulda started usin' again fifty times if it hadn't been for you guys."

Chibs grimaced. In general he had little to no use for junkies, and once a junkie always a junkie. But Juice was a brother—despite his fuck ups—and with the exception of the occasional drunken binge (which they all indulged in from time to time), Chibs had never known him to use.

He snorted as something occurred to him. "Think you'da known better than to give a dog crank."

"Never said I knew what the fuck I was doin'. About anything." He looked up at Chibs with a frown. "What are you doing in here anyway?"

"Ollie sent me. She had a feelin' Jackie boy had put you up to mischief."

He pushed himself off the bed. "She's awake? Is she okay?"

"Aye, lad, she's fine. Hurts some, but that's to be expected." He waved a hand. "It's a graze, nothin' more. She'll have some new scars to get covered with a pretty tattoo."

He paused and studied Juice. Took note of the dark circles beneath his eyes. The haggard look to his face. Olivia had told him the other night, but he'd thought she was just overreacting. He should have known. Paranoid she might be, but hardly histrionic. The boy was hanging on by a thread, and it was obvious for anyone who bothered to look.

Chibs wondered why no one had. No one except Olivia. Whatever else you might say about her, she protected her own, that girl. Chibs sincerely hoped there would never be a time when she didn't consider him one of that number.

If Jax came back and the girl wasn't dead, Chibs didn't know how far he could protect Juice. Jax hardly listened to anyone these days. He'd already lost one VP because of it, and it was clear he'd asked Juice to do this—instead of the always-eager-Happy, say, or the ever-loyal Tig—because he knew Juice had no room to protest. He'd claimed they were square, but still Jax used him and played on his fear and guilt. Chibs scrubbed a hand over his chin and let out a rough breath.

"Go stand by the window, lad. How are the boys comin' with Gem's truck?"

Juice's face twisted with confusion, but he did as Chibs asked. It was still bright out, and he had to shield his eyes from the glare. "They got Nero's cousin laid out. Nero's standin' with him. Happy's scrubbing the windshield. Man, what a—" He turned his head back toward Chibs and stuttered to a stop.

He had the pillow pressed over her face. The muscles in his arms stood out and his jaw was clenched tight. His eyes were hard and blank, his face a mask of brutal determination mingled with a healthy dose of pure disgust.

Juice swallowed and looked out the window again.

Time passed. An eternity, it felt like. Juice was quiet. Inane chatter was beyond him, and his throat felt thick and sore. He could hear the creak of bedsprings. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to the window to feel the cool glass.

Finally Chibs' hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped.

"Let's go, Juicy," he said, his voice heavy and tired. "I need to finish up with Ollie, and she'll be wonderin' what's kept us."

"Yeah, Chibs," he said, bleakly. He didn't look at the bed. "Yeah, okay."

Olivia looked up as the door opened. Juice came in first, and then Chibs, and the looks on their faces did not bode well. She and Chibs locked eyes over Juice's head, and he gave a quick jerk of his chin. She honestly wasn't sure what that meant. The girl wasn't dead? Or she was and Juice had killed her? Or she was and…?

"What happened?" she said.

Juice came around to the opposite side of the bed and eased himself onto it. Chibs dropped into the chair with an exhausted sigh.

"Guys? Talk to me. Is she…?"

"Gone. She's gone," Chibs said. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and rubbed. After a moment he pushed himself to his feet, replaced his glasses, and tugged on another pair of gloves. "Let me get the rest of this shot outta your leg."

She took Juice's hand in hers and their fingers locked together. He dropped his chin and swiped roughly at his cheek.

"I didn't want to do it, Liv. She was just a little fucked up. She just needed some time."

"It's not your fault," she murmured to him. "You had no choice."

"Juicy didn't do it," Chibs said. "I did."

Her gaze whipped from Chibs to Juice and back again. "I don't understand."

He dried the tweezers on a towel and adjusted the lamp. Bent close and plucked something from the deepest wound. She hissed.

"You were right, lass," he said as he worked. "About Jax." Another fragment. "About the girl." He soaked a cotton ball in hydrogen peroxide and brushed it over her skin. "About Juice."

The look he gave her was significant, and she understood this time. He'd seen the damage the club was doing, and he'd stepped in the only way he could. It seemed he'd told her the truth the other night: he and Juice truly were square, and he was disgusted with Jax' games.

"What will you tell him?" she said.

He hitched a shoulder. "Let him believe Juicy did his dirty work. Maybe he'll finally be satisfied."

Juice grunted. "He said he was satisfied after Clay."

"Aye," Chibs said. His voice was grim and he loaded a hundred meanings into that small word. "Seems he changed his mind." He pressed a bandage to the worst spot and sat back to prepare another one. "Next time he tries to put you in a spot like that, Juicy, come to me. It's one thing to give you a chance to earn your way back in; it's another to move the finish line every time you think you've won."

Olivia hesitated. She wasn't sure how much latitude she had here. "Are you going to confront him?"

Chibs glared down at her leg. "No. Not this time. But I am gonna keep an eye on him. I love that lad, but he's in dangerous territory. He needs to understand that VP doesn't mean yes man, and that he can't keep making decisions for the entire club."

Suddenly she giggled. They peered at her and she waved a hand.

"It's just—I just—It's not a Jaxocracy, it's a Jaxtatorship." She pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle her laughter, but her eyes danced and her cheeks were flushed. She couldn't stop giggling, like it was the most hilarious thing she'd ever heard.

He and Juice shared a nonplussed look. Juice shrugged.

"Gettin' a little loopy, lass? Aye." He patted her knee. "Happens to the best of us."

She cleared her throat and tried to calm down. She got control of the giggle fit, but her lips still twitched with mirth. "What, um. What will you do about Nero?"

"He doesn't need to know," Juice said. "He already had to kill his cousin today. He doesn't need to know about the girl, too."

"Aye," Chibs agreed. "It would only muddle things for him. He's unhappy about the guns anyway, especially after what happened at the school. He doesn't need more to worry about."

"I think we're all pretty fucking unhappy about what happened at the school," she said, all traces of amusement gone.

"You're not wrong," Juice said, quietly.

Chibs applied the last bandage and stripped off the gloves. He pulled the blanket up over her legs. "That's going to smart a while longer, lass, but there's no real harm done. Let that oxy do its work. Try to rest. As soon as everything's wrapped up here we'll get you back home."

She nodded. Her eyes were going fuzzy, and as he watched they drifted shut. He smiled down at her a moment before he jerked his head at Juice. They huddled near the door and Chibs' voice dropped to a whisper.

"I'll tell Jackie boy and the others the girl was alive when I left the room, and you were right behind me. No one else has to know what happened in there today."

Juice's expression was wary. "What do I have to do?"

"What d'you mean, lad?"

"What do I owe you? What do you need me to do so we're square?"

Chibs stared at him a moment before his chin dropped. Her made a low noise of displeasure and shook his head. "Ach, Juicy boy, this is fucked shite up indeed."

He rested a hand on Juice's arm and looked him in the eye. "You don't owe me a thing, brother. But if you want to repay me…" His gaze drifted to the bed; Juice's eyes followed. "Take care of her. She's a woman of fine mettle, and there are few like her." He paused. "Reminds me a bit of my own Fiona."

Juice recognized a warning when he heard one. He wanted to reassure him, to tell him that he'd never let anything happen to her…but who was he kidding? Since they'd been together she'd been beaten in her own home and shot. That hadn't been too bad, thankfully, but it never would've happened without the club—and she was only still attached to the club because of him.

"I don't know if I can keep her safe, Chibs," he admitted, his voice thick. "I haven't done a great job of it so far."

Chibs' mouth twisted. "I can imagine she'd tell you she's a grown woman who makes her own choices. She knows the dangers of this life. She understands the risks she's takin' on. Don't insult her by thinkin' she doesn't, or by tryin' to choose for her."

He frowned and looked away, but at last he nodded. Chibs gave him one final clap on the shoulder and walked out. Juice didn't move for a long time after the door closed behind him. He watched Olivia sleep: the way her chest rose and fell. The line of pain between her brows. The pale cast to her cheeks. He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face.

He dropped down into the chair by the bed and her eyes opened. She gave him a vague smile.

"Hey, handsome," she said.

"Hey, beautiful." He brushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead. "I thought you were sleeping."

"Was. Am. Kind of." She shifted and grimaced.

"How's the leg?"

"Umm. Not too bad. Still hurts, but I don't care as much." She tugged his hand. "Come get in bed with me."

His lips quirked. "Liv, I don't really think—"

"Get your mind outta the gutter, Ortiz. I'm just cold. You see what Chibs did to my pants?"

"Um hum. Easier than takin' them off."

"I guess," she said. She eased up onto her side and he crawled in behind her. Curled himself around her and pressed his mouth to her hair.

"Get some rest, babe. I think they're gonna bury Arcadio. After that I'll take you home."

"Not sure I'm up for a bike ride," she murmured.

He grinned. "I'll tie you on."

"Oh good. Such a gentleman."

"Yeah." His thoughts turned toward the dead girl in the other room and he shuddered. "I'm a fuckin' prince."

Obviously this a huuuuge departure from canon. Okay, lemme say this first: I always intended for her to get shot here. Like, from day 1. HOWEVER! I came up with the attack during the home invasions on the fly, so once I did that I thought I'd change it so that she didn't get shot...but that just didn't work. At all. What happens in this chapter is pretty fuckin' pivotal for the rest of s6, esp near the end of s6. So I just made the gunshot really minor and more just a lot of pain than anything else. (also I did some research into what buckshot can actually do to the human body and. no.)

Anyway. As for the Chibs thing, after last chapter and what happened there, I knew things had to fall out differently here. And we all know Chibs, at this point, was getting kinda pissed at the Jaxtatorship. Are we looking at mutiny? Fuck no, that'd be ooc as hell. But I do think, as loyal as Chibs is to Jax, he also realizes that there are ways one should behave. And Jax is violating that a bit.