So this isn't a disclaimer, bc I said I wouldn't make those anymore, but I do want to clarify where we are at this point: I've stretched the timeline a bit here so that Tara's faked miscarriage and Jax finding out about it is extended; the total time elapsed between the last chapter and the ice cream shop scene in this one is two weeks.

The scene in the ice cream shop is basically a continuation (sorta) of the scene from 6x9 that takes place in Diosa's kitchen. I've moved it here bc Ollie has no reason to go to Diosa. *shrug*

Anyway. Hope that makes things a little clearer. :) Oh, one more thing: PLEASE do yourself a favor and go find somewhere you can listen to "Changing My Mind" by Bob Schneider. It's been the quote for the last three chapters, and it's just. It's basically been my mental soundtrack (on loop) as I've written them.

what's so funny is nobody's laughing
at this change of heart you're having
and what's so funny is i'm filled up with thunder
but i can't seem to get out from under
all these stones you tied to my chest
Bob Schneider, "Changing My Mind"

The days passed and Olivia felt like she was living in a fog. Tara went through with her plan; Jax signed the restraining order against Gemma. Olivia still couldn't wrap her brain around the idea that Gemma had attacked Tara badly enough to believe she'd caused a miscarriage. Olivia, for one, knew what it took…and it actually wasn't as easy as one might think.

It was nearly a week before she went back to work, and then she had to come up with various excuses for not lifting anything heavy. She spent an inordinate amount of time on the milkshake machines. Then she tinkered with the freezers for a day or two. She avoided the guys as much as possible.

She avoided everyone, really, except Chucky, because as weird as he was, Chucky knew when to keep his mouth shut. He didn't ask a million questions like Tig and he didn't give her any of those worried, probing looks like she got from Chibs.

Most importantly: he never tried to touch her.

She was, in many ways, back to the woman she'd been her first day in Charming: paranoid, frightened, mistrusting. Her eye was always on the door and no one walked behind her and even the briefest, lightest hand on her arm made her go tense and taut like a live wire.

With Juice…well. She could barely stand the way he looked at her, with so much love and trust. She had lied to him. She was still lying to him. She had betrayed him. She firmly believed that decision was hers—her body, her life, her choice—but Tara had been right: she should have told him. Now, two weeks later, it felt too late.

And so she avoided him, too. His presence had always comforted her. Even from the beginning there'd been something about him, something about his smile and his kindness and the warmth of his touch that had soothed her. Now she flinched when he reached for her and turned away from his kiss. She could see the hurt and confusion in his eyes, and the first night he'd decided to stay at his place rather than come to hers, she'd been relieved.

The second night she'd been worried.

The third night she cried herself to sleep and woke up feeling like a zombie.

She had her two week checkup with Dr. Martinez two days later, and Juice still hadn't come back. Physically, she said, Olivia was fine, exactly where she should be at this point, but she strongly recommend she make (and actually keep) an appointment with Dr. Rose. Olivia assured her she would and then tossed the appointment card in the trash on the way out.

Back at the ice cream shop something big was going down. Nero was there, and Gemma, and it looked like there'd been some sort of incident.

"What's going on?" she whispered to Chucky.

"Don't know. Haven't asked. Making myself scarce." And with that he disappeared into the back.

Olivia thought that was probably the smart move, but before she made it two steps, Jax' voice cut through the room. "Olivia!"

She froze. Pivoted slowly. "Jackson," she said. His expression was thunderous, and he charged toward her. She fell back against the closed door and threw her arm across her face in an instinctual gesture of self defense.

Chibs grabbed Jax even as he stopped himself. They all stared, and as she slowly lowered her arm and took stock of each stunned face—Gemma, Nero, Tig, Happy, Jax, Chibs—she was glad to note that Juice wasn't there. She swallowed hard and straightened. Jax held up his hands and took a cautious step forward.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Olivia," he said, his voice low and soothing, like he might use on a startled horse or an angry dog.

"Of course not," she said. She tried to laugh it off, but no one was fooled. She had gone bone white beneath her freckles and the hand she ran over her hair trembled. She cleared her throat. "Did you need to ask me something?"

He shifted his weight back on his heels and studied her through narrowed eyes. "It's about Tara," he said.

She summoned a smile from somewhere. "How's she doing? Feeling any better?"

Gemma let out a snort and spun away. Jax glared after her a moment. Then, "The pregnancy was fake, Ollie. There was no miscarriage."

Her eyes flicked from Gemma to Jax and back again. "No way," she said with a shake of her head. "Jax, there's no way—"

"It's true, Ollie," Nero said, wearily. "Gemma has proof."

"And you're tryin' to say you didn't know a fucking thing about it, sweetheart?" Gemma said. Her voice was heavily dosed with a combination of disgust and disbelief.

"You're kidding, right?" she said.

"Just answer the question, lass," Chibs said.

"I had no idea, and I don't appreciate you insinuating otherwise." She took a step closer and glared at Jax. "But, you know, if Tara was willing to do something that extreme, maybe you should take a second to ask yourself why. Think a little less about her actions and maybe look a little closer at her reactions."

"So you didn't know," Gemma said, "but you're still taking her side?"

She let out a sigh. "I'm not taking any sides, Gemma. I don't like being—cornered by half the fucking club plus a few and treated like I did something wrong. No, Jackson, I didn't know the pregnancy was fake. If you have anything else you want to discuss with me, I'll be in the back."

Without waiting for a reply, she pushed through the door and slammed it behind her. Jax shot Chibs an incredulous look.

"What the fuck is wrong with her?"

"She's been like that for weeks," Tig said. "Can't even talk to her these days."

"She needs to get her shit together. We've got too much goin' on right now to deal with an unstable mechanic." His expression hardened. "And she knows way too much about the club to be that fuckin' angry."

Chibs lifted a calming hand. "Relax, Jackie. Let me have a chat with her, yeah?"

He gestured toward the back room as if to say have at it. He jerked around and scrubbed both hands through his hair and down his face. "I got that business with Patterson," he said at last.

They'd taken the vote yesterday: to get her off the club's back (and to get Tara out from under the conspiracy charges), they were going to turn over Galen and his guns. Jax had asked her for a meeting this afternoon, and he had no idea what any of them were going to do if she didn't take the offer.

"Want company?" Tig said.

"Nah. Don't want her to think I'm bringin' muscle. Hang here and keep an ear out if Barasky calls. We gotta get him back in." He dropped a hand onto Chibs' shoulder. "Talk to Ollie, and then get in touch with Galen. Find out what they have planned about this fuckin' jailbreak. I want that shit nailed down as soon as possible."

"Consider it handled, Jackie boy."

"What are you gonna do about Tara?" Gemma said.

"I don't know yet. Just—just stay away from her for now. I'll figure it out."

Gemma didn't look happy, but after a while she nodded.

Nero slipped an arm around her waist. "Come on, mama. Let me get you home."

"Jackie," Chibs said as he started toward the door.

He cast a glance back over his shoulder. Chibs flicked a finger toward his own face. "Might wanna get that seen to before you go chattin' with the DA."

"I'd love to, but our medic's currently in a goddamn snit."

"Come on," Happy said. "I got it. First aid kit's in the bathroom. You too, esse," he said to Nero.

Jax shrugged at Nero's look. "Least we can do, considering."

"Yeah, mano," he said. He sounded like he was ready to wash his hands of this whole thing. "Whatever you say."

The door to the back room workshop was closed, and Chibs hesitated a moment. He listened, but he couldn't hear much from inside. Apparently she wasn't throwing things around, something she normally did when she was angry. He couldn't decide if that was a good sign or a bad one.

He knocked and she called for him to come in. She had an engine taken apart on the big table, and while the scatter of bits and pieces might look like chaos, Chibs knew if he asked for a specific part she'd be able to reach for it instantly, and probably with her eyes closed.

Her expression was wary, and if he weren't mistaken it looked like she'd been crying. He crossed his arms over his chest and kicked the door shut behind him. She jumped a little at the sound and his frown deepened.

He decided to start with something easy. He nodded his head toward the table. "Little project, lass?"

She relaxed a bit and hitched a shoulder. "It's from Juice's old bike. The one those guys took apart. I thought it could use a little something before I put it all back together again."

He started to reach for one of the parts, to take a closer look, but at the last minute he let his hand fall again. Normally she didn't mind people poking around in her work as long as they were respectful and put everything back where they found it, but with the mood she'd been in lately, he didn't want to push her.

Instead he propped himself against one of the smaller tables along the wall and crossed one ankle over the other.

"Is there something I can help you with, Chibs?"

"Not really. I was more wonderin' if I could help you with anything, Ollie m'dear."

"Oh. No, thank you. I've got everything under control. And my strength is pretty much back, so I can lift things again." She flashed a brief smile that didn't touch her eyes. "All good."

She seemed to be choosing each word with exaggerated care, enunciating each syllable with a formality that wasn't like her at all. And no cursing. If that didn't raise a red flag then he hadn't been paying attention for the last two plus years.

He cleared his throat and shifted his weight. "That wasn't really what I meant."

"Then maybe you should explain, because honestly I'm not in the mood for double talk."

That sounded more like her. "You've been odd the past few weeks, lass. We've all noticed—except maybe Jackie, but he's had a bit on his mind—and we're concerned. You're a steady one, usually, and it's worrisome when you act so…" He trailed off, unsure of the word he wanted.

"Unstable? Crazy? Moody?"

"Ach, well. Aye, I suppose."

She made a low noise that could mean any number of things. Her eyes flicked away and she drummed her fingers against the table. "In the last two months I've been assaulted in my own home, shot, and nearly blown up. How would you like me to act, Chibs?" She pinned him with her hot gaze. "Is there a script for this? Because if there is I'd love to see it."

His chin dropped to his chest. "I understand you've had a time, lass—"

"No," she said softly, "I'm not sure that you do." She ran a hand down her face. "I ran away from a man who hurt me in every possible way a man can hurt a woman. I came here to be safe. Now I've had fucking brain surgery and I've stabbed two people and every loud noise makes me think there's another fucking bomb."

She threw her arm out toward the main shop. "Today I came in and was immediately attacked by this club's president—"

"He didn't attack you, Ollie, though I admit he probably should have used a different approach."

"Right. Let's all walk on eggshells around the crazy girl," she said scornfully.

He straightened, and when he spoke again his voice was sharp as the crack of a whip. "Olivia! We are all careful with you because we know what you've been through. None of us want you to feel threatened. Your husband was scum of the earth, and if it had been me I would've done quite a bit more than just shoot his cock off."

He sighed. "We're all on your side, lass," he said, his tone softening. "I understand it's been a rough few months, but what's happened in the last couple o' weeks to make it so much worse? Why are you avoiding us all?" He paused. "And why is Juicy lookin' like a kicked puppy who might bite at any second?"

That was the crux of it. Sure, they wanted to make sure she wasn't unstable enough to go to the cops or something, but really this was about Juice. If an old lady became a liability, she was done. Simple as that.

She crossed her arms over her chest and hunched her shoulders a little. She wasn't afraid of Chibs. She repeated that over and over in her head like a mantra, but still the spark of panic stirred in her breast. These were violent men, dangerous men, and while normally they would risk life and limb to protect a woman, there were times when unpleasant choices had to be made.

"Lass—" He reached for her, but she knocked his hand away and fell back against the counter behind her. She looked like she might go for her knife. He held the hand up, palm out. "I would never hurt you, Ollie girl. I've never raised a hand to a woman in anger, and I'm sure not about to start with you."

Suddenly his expression clouded. His mouth tightened and a dangerous glint came into his eyes. "Is that what's going on? Did that fucking Juice Ortiz—"

"Oh my God!" she said. "No, Chibs. Jesus Christ, no. He wouldn't—" She pressed shaking fingers to her forehead a moment, and when she met his look again her gaze was clear and steady. "I promise you it's not that."

"Aye," he said after a moment. "I believe you." He pushed his hands into his pockets, hoping to put her more at ease.

She studied him from the corner of her eye. "About Tara—"

"I'm a wee bit more skeptical on that one. Did you know? It stays between us."

She stood taller and squared her shoulders. She didn't trust him not to go to Jax with something so huge. It was basically his duty. "I didn't know, Chibs." A short pause. "But if I had, you can believe I would've tried to talk her out of it."

"Oh?"

"She's scared and desperate and she wants her kids safe. I understand that, and sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures. I'll never judge her. But I—" Her hand fluttered briefly toward her belly before she stopped and gripped the edge of the counter behind her. "There are lines. I didn't realize I had them before."

His keen look traveled up the length of her body. She had been looking…lush recently. Always curvy, in the past month or so she'd filled out further, and in ways that caused eyes to linger as she walked past. Now, though. He frowned. The skin was tight across the bones of her face, and while it didn't seem she'd lost a significant amount of weight, she still looked wasted, somehow. Almost frail.

She had been sick, he knew, so he supposed that could account for it. But she'd said it was a fairly minor infection, and she'd been back at work over a week. She'd been moody. Tired. Ill.

His head tilted.

"Olivia," he said, "are you pregnant?"

Her eyes went wide and they filled with tears. Her chin dropped. She was silent for so long he thought she wouldn't answer, but then, like a dam breaking: "Not anymore," she whispered.

"Oh, lass," he murmured. He reached for her again, and this time when she tried to swat him away he wouldn't let her. He pulled her to him and her fingers gripped his cut. "It's all right, girl. It's all right. Sometimes these things happen. You and Juicy can try again—"

"No," she said. "No, we can't. And you don't understand. I didn't lose it, Chibs—though the doctor said I would. I couldn't go through that again. It would've killed me, I swear to God."

Appalled, he cupped her face in his hands and stared at her. Despite his violent lifestyle, Chibs was a staunch Catholic, and there were certain things he held sacred. But this was Ollie, and she was clearly hurting, so he tried to put aside his own feelings and focus on her.

"What do you mean, again?"

She told him everything: about TJ. The miscarriages. The surgery. She explained what Dr. Martinez had said about this pregnancy and how long the odds were. She didn't gloss over what TJ had done, didn't spare him some of the nastier details, and by the time she was through he looked shaken and stunned, and his mouth was a hard line across his face.

"Jesus, girl," he said. He brushed a hand over her hair. "I'm guessing Juicy didn't take any of this too well, and that's why things have been so rocky."

"Ahh…" She looked away and bit her lip.

He gripped her chin and lifted it to face him again. "You haven't told him," he said. "Olivia Jameson Gable, what are you thinkin', girl? That boy loves you. You've saved him. And now—"

She jerked away. "I'm not trying to be anyone's savior, Chibs. I can barely keep myself together. How am I supposed to do that for Juice, too?"

He let out a heavy sigh. "Darlin', I think you know as well as I that sometimes it's easier to keep someone else afloat. You're a mess, lass, and no mistake, but the two of you are better together than apart. You need to tell him."

"It's been two weeks. I can't—"

"Ollie. Listen to me. This isn't a suggestion." He stepped closer and glared down his nose at her. "Either you tell him, or I will. Understood?"

She paled. "You can't—you've got no right—"

"And you've got no right to keep it from him!" He spun away and scraped a hand down his face. "You did what you thought you had to do, lass, and while I may not agree with it, I do understand. But now you've got to make things right with Juicy. He's my brother, and I'll not see him suffering because you're too much a coward—"

"I am fucking well not—"

"Too much a coward," he cried, turning on her, "to tell him the truth!"

She bent her head, and when she spoke her voice was a low rasp. "How much do you think he'll suffer if I do tell him?"

"It's always better to know. Always." He lifted a hand. "At least then he'd understand what's going on with you. He might even be able to help."

Her jaw tightened. "I don't think there's any help for it."

"Aye. There she is: the Olivia from back in the day. The girl who wouldn't take an offered sip of water if she were dyin' in the desert. More stubbornness than sense, and more fear than anything else."

"Of course I'm afraid! This life is poison. It destroys everything. Look at what it drove Tara to do! Look at what happened to Opie!"

"I was there, lass. I know what happened to Opie better than you ever could."

She had forgotten that part. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean—" She broke off and shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to explain to me about this life. I've lost my Fiona and Kerrianne because of it."

"Is it worth it? Honestly, Chibs. No bullshit, no swagger, just real talk. Is all of this violence and death worth losing the people you love?"

He sighed and leaned on the table. His face was haggard, his eyes hooded. "I don't know, lass. I ask myself that sometimes. But I had the chance to give it up, and I stayed. I've been in it for well on twenty years, since I was just a lad and full of piss and wind. How do I change now?"

Her lips twisted. "You make it sound so inevitable."

"It's been a rough time since you've been here. You know it's not normally like this."

"It just seems like—it seems like it never ends. Violence begets violence, revenge begets revenge, and as soon as you think you're clear of one thing, something else comes around to bite you in the ass."

"For those of us who are in it, truly in it, we understand how rough it can be. It's part of the price for brotherhood. For family. For having a place to belong. You're part of this family, Ollie girl. It's part of you. You don't have to struggle through alone."

"I feel like we keep having the same conversation, Chibs." She sounded tired and sad.

"Stubborn. Like I said. Must be the Scottish in you."

"Aye," she said, drawing the syllable out in an exaggerated imitation of his accent. He huffed out a laugh and she even managed a smile; a real one this time, that brought out the dimple in her chin.

He took her by the arms and fixed her with a long, steady look. "I don't want to betray your trust, lass, but I meant what I said. You need to tell Juice what happened, and you need to do it soon. It'll only get worse the longer you wait. You tell him," he said, his eyes hard and grave, "or I will. Your choice. I think we both know who he'd rather hear it from."

"It'll be over, Chibs. I'll lose him."

"You're losing him now, foolish girl. Some secrets are like wounds: you can try to cover them over, but underneath they fester and rot. He will find out one day, even if I weren't to tell him. And in the meantime you can hardly bear to look at him for the guilt!" He shook her once, gently. "Have a little faith in the boy, lass. You're the one who always claims he's made of sterner stuff than he seems."

She shrugged out of his grip. "You're right," she said after a long quiet moment. "I don't like it, but you're right."

"So you'll talk to him then?"

She looked up at him, and her expression was so wretched it tore at his heart. He steeled himself and glowered.

"Yeah, Chibby. I'll talk to him. Could you just—could you give me a day or two? I need to figure out…" She trailed off with a helpless shrug.

"Aye," he said. "I'll give you till the end of the week. If not done by then, I'll do it. Clear?"

"Crystal," she said, quietly.

He studied her a moment longer before he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "You're a trial to me, Ollie girl. A damn chapter from the Book of Job, you are."

"At least I don't come with boils."

"Small blessings," he said with a quirk of his mouth. He cast a glance over his shoulder and frowned at the scatter of parts on the table. "I should let you get back to work."

"I'm planning it to be a sort of—peace offering, I guess."

"Aye. I see that now." He patted her cheek and offered a reassuring smile. "The lad loves you, lass. I know that's hard for you to trust, but try."

"I'm working on it."

He supposed that would have to do. She was like an alcoholic who'd had a setback on the road to recovery: in many ways she was starting from scratch, and all the trust she'd built over the years had to be put back together again, piece by piece. She was up to the task if she would just do it. He hoped his faith in Juice was well-placed; if the boy turned on her, she would be gone, consequences be damned.

He shook his head and ambled toward the door, and when he opened it Chucky was on the other side with his hand raised to knock.

"Hi, Chibs," he said. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Nope. On me way out." He left the door open as he went, and Chucky peeked inside.

"Hey, Ollie," he said.

She smiled. "Hey, Chucky. What's up?"

"I just thought you might want your mail." He held up an envelope. Her heart sank.

"Thanks," she said. "Just leave it there."

He dropped it where she indicated and gave her a curious look. It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but instead he shut his mouth, nodded, and walked out.

She tried to ignore the small white envelope, but it seemed to mock her from across the room. She didn't want to open it. She had an idea of what was inside, and she had plenty to deal with without worrying about that, too.

She worked for twenty minutes or so without making much progress. Finally she gave in with a hard sigh and yanked it off the table. The postmark was from Las Cruces, her stop before she came to Charming. That was…ominous.

She ripped it open, but this time she caught the postcard before it fell. A picture of Stone Mountain, a tourist attraction just outside of Atlanta. She flipped it over.

Can't wait to see you again, my sweet strawberry. xoxo

Olivia shuddered and balled the card up in her fist. "Fuck you, Teddy Flanary," she whispered in a voice full of loathing. "You want me then come and get me. I'm done running from you."

So. I just wanted to take a moment to address a point brought up several times about last chapter: I ABSOLUTELY agree that Olivia should have told Juice. I mean, no question. Her body, her choice, but people in serious, trusting relationships discuss things with each other and sure as hell don't keep such major secrets.

Having said that...well. Olivia's worked hard to overcome her natural instincts and put her trust in Juice, but once she decided not to tell him about Teddy's first postcard it was like...Chibs made the metaphor here: a recovering alcoholic taking her first drink after having been on the wagon awhile. After that, each drink that follows is easier and easier. Once she decided to keep one major secret, keeping the next one wasn't as hard and was almost knee jerk. The consequences of her decision will play out over the next several chapters AND the speed of events will pick up, as well.

In other news, dear readers, a review will get you cookies from Gemma and a biker to enjoy them with. :D