Um. I hope you guys like this chapter because it was really hard work and I almost had to put my computer in the freezer when I finished it. (That's, uh. That's a Friends reference. I'm not really going to put my computer in the freezer.)

i can only say these things to you while you're sleeping.
i hear the hum from the wires and the sounds of the morning creeping
i lie awake and pretend you can hear me...

and i could tell you that you're all i've ever wanted, dear
i could utter every word you'd ever hope to hear
i shudder when i think that i might not be here forever, forever, forever
The Airborne Toxic Event, "All I Ever Wanted"

Donnelly came to collect Olivia at nine thirty the next morning. Patterson had arranged Olivia's meeting with Jax for ten. Gloria had been by earlier with a change of clothes, and Olivia's first question had been about Juice.

Gloria had shaken her head, her smile sad. "No change. I'm sorry."

It was what she'd expected, but it still hit her hard. Now, in the Sheriff's department cruiser with Donnelly—apparently she didn't trust any of her deputies with the task of driving Olivia around—she stared out the window with a deep frown.

It was a week until Juice's birthday, and she'd had plans for them. It was the first birthday that they'd actually spend together, since he'd had his last two inside. Plus it was thirty-five, which was a big number. Olivia hated her own birthday, but she loved celebrating other people's. A sort of vicarious thrill, she supposed.

Maybe they'd still get to celebrate. Maybe he would wake up and want to go with her and…

She remembered the thirtieth birthday party Gemma had thrown for her. She'd been in Charming very close to a year, but the only person who'd known why she hated her birthday so much—especially that one, marking the point when she suddenly had had a longer life without her mother than with her—was Juice. It had actually turned out to be a nice distraction. She'd enjoyed the party, and Gemma had worked so hard, and.… Now she couldn't think of it without a ping of sadness. Opie. Kozik. Miles. Phil. V-Lin. Hell, even Gemma herself. And Tara.

The memory of that party and all the people who'd been there who weren't anymore—and how happy they'd all been, Tara and Gemma laughing as they cut the cake, everyone singing a truly terrible rendition of "Happy Birthday"—made her realize just how right her decision to leave Charming was. There would never be another birthday like that. There would never be cake and tequila and carefree good times. She hated that all of her best memories with the club didn't include Juice, but honestly when everyone had been inside it had been…peaceful. Quiet. Happy, despite missing the guys who were away.

Tig seemed to think it could be that way again. The case he'd tried to make last night, that things would settle down now that they were out of guns and drugs, would've been more compelling if she didn't know about the trouble brewing with the Mayans and the Byz Lats. If she didn't know how Jax would react to finding out about Gemma. If she didn't know the effect Jax' actions were bound to have on the club.

She sighed and sat up a little straighter. Donnelly cut her a look. Olivia was in the cruiser's passenger seat mostly because Donnelly had insisted. She said otherwise she would feel like a chauffeur, and after yesterday she doubted Olivia really wanted to see the backseat of a police car again anyway. Olivia recognized it as the sign of trust it was, and she appreciated it.

"Do you think we could go by St. Thomas after this?" Olivia said.

"Do you need a doctor?"

She smiled a little. "I want to see Tara. Say goodbye. It wouldn't feel right if I left without doing that."

She hesitated, but after a moment she nodded. "That shouldn't be a problem. I guess after that it's on to Concord?"

Olivia gave a bitter little shrug. "A day full of prisons and hospitals. Such is my life."

"You're doing the right thing."

"You probably wish I'd roll on the club, too."

"It'd be nice. But I get why you aren't. If you had to leave Juice behind it wouldn't be any good for him that his old lady turned rat."

Olivia shifted in her seat and adjusted the shoulder belt. "That, and…I care about them. I've always said I don't give a fuck about the club, and while it's true that SAMCRO as an entity can go to hell, the people in it are sort of—they're my family."

It was a staggering admission for her, and it had hit her last night as she'd sat sleepless and wide-eyed in her cell. They were her family, and the idea of selling them out to save her own skin was repellent. She couldn't bear the thought of Chibs' disappointment. Tig's sense of betrayal. Bobby's resigned fury.

Donnelly made a non-committal sort of noise. Then, "We're almost there. Any idea what you're going to say to Teller?"

She knew exactly what she was going to say. She only had one card left to play, one thing that would get Jax' attention and maybe get her what she needed. She wasn't entirely thrilled about it, but fuck it.

"A few ideas, yeah," Olivia murmured. "One or two."

At the prison Olivia was searched, but since she was already in Donnelly's custody it was perfunctory at best. She was surprised when they were taken to the warden's office rather than the visiting room. Olivia was parked outside while Donnelly went in to speak to him, and a few minutes later she emerged and gestured Olivia inside.

"Ms. Gable," the warden said. "This is highly unusual. I normally might not allow a visitation of this type, but DA Patterson and the director of the Sacramento field office of the FBI were quite insistent. This is my prison…but sometimes one has to play nice."

Olivia smiled. "I appreciate the favor, sir."

"You have fifteen minutes. Mr. Teller will be in restraints the entire time. Do you have any questions?"

"Will we be alone?"

The warden looked deeply uncomfortable, but finally he nodded. "This office is under surveillance, however, so we will know if you're in any distress."

Or if I say anything worth hearing, she thought. Luckily she'd come prepared for that.

The warden hit a button on his phone, and the door swung open. Jax stood in his orange jumpsuit flanked by two guards. His wrists and ankles were chained together, and the chains connected so that he could barely raise his hands above waist level. When he saw her his eyes widened, just a fraction. They were hard and dark, barely recognizable as the man she knew, and for a moment she was afraid.

Then he lowered his head and shuffled into the room. There was a ring bolted into the floor, and the guards secured him to that. The warden gave them both steely-eyed glares, and with a jerk of his head marched out. The other three followed him, Donnelly more reluctantly and with a last, long look back at Olivia.

A short silence fell once they were gone.

"That the new Sheriff?" Jax said. His voice was rougher than ever, rusty almost, and it sent a shiver through her.

"Yes," she said.

He shifted. His chains rattled. "What do you want, Ollie?"

"I need a favor. A very large favor that you aren't going to want to grant me."

His mouth curled in a disdainful sort of smirk. "I'm not exactly in a generous or forgiving mood these days, darlin', so if you're here to beg me to forgive some fuck-up of your old man's again, you can forget it."

She lifted a brow. Her expression was steady even as her heart pounded. "Juice is lying comatose in a hospital bed, suffering from injuries he sustained on behalf of your club."

"My wife is in a fucking hospital bed suffering from injuries she sustained because of you," he said.

She flinched away from the venom in his voice and the hatred on his face. "That's not entirely true, Jackson."

"You didn't bring Teddy Flanary to this town? He didn't target Tara because of you? Because she called you sister? Fuck that, Ollie. I'm not fuckin' stupid."

"Teddy's men incited the incident, it's true. They killed Eli." She leaned a little closer and lowered her voice. "They did not shoot Tara."

"Bullshit."

She swallowed around the thickness in her throat. "They didn't, Jax. I have proof. It's why I'm here." Her bright green eyes caught his stormy blue ones, caught and held and neither of them blinked. "I will give you the shooter's name if you give me Teddy Flanary."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he said.

"They picked me up for TJ." She gestured to her face, the impressive black eye and the other bruise on her jaw. She pulled her blouse aside to let him get a look at the mark on her shoulder. "This is what the cops did when they arrested me. They also pistol-whipped Tig and shot out the tires on his bike."

He blinked. He struggled to appear unimpressed, but she could tell he was disconcerted. He was used to being rough-handled by the cops—he was a motorcycle thug, after all—but Olivia was a woman. Small. Fragile-looking. The hand mark on her shoulder was big, and it gave him an idea of the size of the guy who'd done it.

"You're lookin' to make a deal," he said.

"I am. I need Teddy, Jax. They'll give me the immunity I want without him, but…they won't make the deal unless I tell them how the club was involved in his kidnapping, and they won't grant the club immunity without Teddy himself."

He surged forward, but she didn't move. His chains caught. He leaned against them and glared at her, his expression wolfish and feral. "You gonna rat out my club, Olivia? And you want me to fuckin' help you?"

"Listen to what I'm saying, Jax. They want to know how deeply the club was involved in what happened in San Francisco yesterday. They want to know who killed Teddy's guards at that warehouse. One of them was a Fed. I won't tell them without immunity for the club, complete and total immunity. Do you understand?"

He glared at her. If looks could kill she'd be a smoking hole in the upholstery of her chair. Finally his head jerked in a nod.

"If I don't tell them, I'm off to Atlanta. I know my life probably doesn't mean a whole lot to you right now, and I get that. I'm okay with it." Her head tilted. Her eyes stayed steady on his. "I will tell them only as much as you and the club okay for me to say. No more. But the entire point is moot without Teddy Flanary."

Her voice lowered further, to a whisper soft as a caress. "If Teddy dies, his organization lives on. A lieutenant steps up to take his place and hardly anything changes." She paused. "But if he goes to jail. If I make this deal. The Feds will burn down every single branch and twig of his operation until there isn't a goddamn thing left. There will be nothing. Teddy will be alive to see it, his entire life's work gone. And then. Once he's convicted."

She leaned back and spread her hands in a shrug. "Prison is a dangerous place, as you well know. One of his interests is a fairly substantial child pornography ring. Another is human trafficking—little girls and little boys. That information in the right ear…"

She could tell the idea intrigued him. "Death is fleeting, Jackson. An instant of terror. A sharp twinge of pain. Then poof. Over. No more pain, ever. Now, life? Life is revenge. Life is hurt and fear and fury and the knowledge of your own impotence as everything you worked for is dismantled piece by piece. And when death finally does come, you're a broken and bitter old man who will be buried in an unmarked grave in a prison cemetery and whose name will be forgotten."

His jaw worked. The chains rattled as he flexed his fingers. He recognized himself in her speech, and he was sure it wasn't an accident. But she was right: dying was easy. Living was the hardest goddamn thing there was. "Teddy's guys really didn't shoot Tara?" he said.

"No, Jax." She lifted up in the chair to pull something from her back pocket. It was a folded photograph. "You promise me Teddy, alive and…well, relatively unharmed, and this is yours. It's a picture of your house the day Tara was shot. A picture of the shooter, weapon in hand."

Olivia hesitated. Her expression clouded with doubt and she looked away. "Jax, before—I need to warn you. This might not be knowledge you want. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss."

"Whoever hurt Tara needs to pay," he ground out. He sounded like he was chewing broken glass.

She glanced at him again. Her face was softer now, her eyes warmer. "I love Tara, too, Jax. I know it's nothing like the way you feel about her, and I know I can't really understand what it's like to love someone the way you love her—but I do know what it's like to lose. I know what it's like to want revenge at all costs." She waved the picture. "Once you know, you can't undo it. You can't forget. All of what I described about Teddy can still happen without this."

"Who are you protecting?" he said, his face tight and suspicious.

"You, Jax. I'm protecting you."

He snorted and slumped back in the chair. "Our time's almost up, Ollie. I'll give you Teddy, but not unless you give me a name. And I wanna see that picture."

She sighed and scrubbed at her forehead. Muttered a low curse when she hit the bruises around her eye. Was she really prepared to do this? When she'd gotten the photo from Gloria this morning she had been. Now…it would mean Gemma's death. It would tear the club apart. And what if he found out about Juice's involvement? God what a risk. And she wouldn't even be here if—

She cut that train of thought off. Unfolded the photograph and held it up for him to see. His eyes narrowed and he tilted forward. She watched his face as recognition clicked: he went from hard and broken to empty and shattered. It was like a switch had been flipped inside him and the light left his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Jackson," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"This is a lie." He didn't even raise his voice. "This is a fuckin' lie, Olivia!"

"Teddy left these pictures for me. The first part shows his men breaking in. They tied up Eli and Tara and shot Eli. They were about to kill Tara when Gemma pulled up. She was out of her mind, by the look of things. She ran inside and…" She hitched a shoulder. "I can only guess she missed because she was so upset. Or maybe at the last minute she found a bit of sanity and pulled the shot. I don't know."

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?" he rasped.

"I don't know," she said again. "I honestly don't."

He was doubled over like in physical pain and in that moment she hated herself. Gemma might deserve what was coming to her, but Jax didn't deserve this. He was a manipulative, murderous, lying shit, but…no one deserved anything like the agony he was in right now.

She hoped Patterson would move on Gemma before Jax had a chance to do anything. It would at least give him some breathing room. Some time to process all of it.

He lifted his head and their eyes met again. "I give you Teddy, you take WITSEC."

It wasn't exactly a question, but she answered anyway. "That's the plan."

"You takin' Juice with you?"

"If he wakes up and wants to go."

His mouth curved in a vicious little smile. "I'll keep your old man safe, Olivia. I'll keep him close. He can be my new right hand."

She felt color flood her cheeks and she lifted her chin. He knew Juice in the club was the last thing she wanted, but he also knew Juice wasn't as sure about patching out as he'd made it sound. If Juice did recover and Olivia was gone, he'd be lost and desperate. Jax had just promised to exploit that to the utmost. To bleed Juice until he was dry, all the while making him feel like he mattered, or that he one day would.

She had a feeling that would be his strategy even if he found out Juice had covered for Gemma. Living, after all, was the hardest thing of all.

"Do what you think you have to do, Jackson," she said, softly. "But remember that I did warn you. I told you nothing good would come of it."

"How the fuck was I supposed to know—?" He cut himself off and rattled his chains in frustration. "Goddammit. God fucking dammit!"

She waited him out as he grappled with it. Finally he fell still, his elbows on his knees and his head hanging down like an exhausted dog's.

"I'll call my lawyer when I get out of here," he said in an old, tired voice. "You can have Teddy. Tell them about the warehouse and the kidnapping."

He lifted his head and stared at her. "Tell them what Gemma did to Tara. Show them that picture."

Her mouth fell open. "Jax, are you—?"

"Tell them!" he barked. "If they get to her first, great. If they don't?" His mouth twisted. "Too bad."

No one was better at deflecting guilt and blame than Jackson Teller—except maybe for Clay Morrow, and with his death the crown had passed. She nodded. "Sure, Jax. Whatever you say," she murmured.

Later, at St. Thomas, she told Tara her plan and they cried together. She didn't tell her about Gemma. As she was leaving Unser came in with the boys, and Olivia took a little while longer to play with them. The sound of Thomas' giggles were still ringing in her ears even when Donnelly pulled into a parking spot at the medical center in Concord.

They had been silent the whole way, each woman lost in her own thoughts, and as Donnelly cut the engine she took a moment to study her.

"I hate SAMCRO," Donnelly said.

Olivia glanced at her.

She lifted a hand to forestall anything Olivia might be about to say. "I hate SAMCRO, and my goal as Sheriff in this county is to get rid of them." She looked down. Squeezed the steering wheel. "I didn't realize there was a side to a motorcycle club other than drugs and guns and violence."

"I never wanted to be an old lady," Olivia said after a moment. "I've been protected by one MC or another since I got away from TJ, but I always stayed away from the guys. It's different here. Everything's different. The violence is bigger, but so is…this is going to sound really cheesy…but so is the love. It's overwhelming. All of it."

"Better you than me," Donnelly said.

Olivia's mouth twisted. Donnelly's radio crackled and she called in an affirmative. Two more SanWa County cruisers pulled in on either side of them. They got out of the car and Donnelly motioned one of the deputies closer.

"Stay with Ms. Gable. You can wait in the hall when she's with her fiancé."

He nodded and Donnelly led the way inside. The ranks had thinned a bit—Gemma, Bobby, and Quinn were still there, but Chibs was with Juice and everyone else had gone back to Charming. They all stood in surprise at the sight of Olivia and her entourage, but as Donnelly approached Gemma, Bobby and Quinn both took a step back.

"Gemma Teller-Morrow, you're under arrest for the attempted murder of Tara Knowles and accessory after the fact for the murder of Sheriff Eli Roosevelt."

Gemma's eyes went huge. She stared around her, momentarily uncomprehending, until her gaze caught on Olivia. "You traitorous little bitch," she said.

"Secrets can't stay buried forever, Gemma. Maybe you should've thought of that before you tried to kill Tara." She touched the deputy's arm. "Can we go, please? I don't need to see this."

"Bobby!" Gemma cried as Donnelly cuffed her and started to read her rights. "That gash ratted me out to the fuckin' cops!"

Bobby shook his head like a sad hound dog. "No, Gem. Ollie didn't rat. You need to hush now before you say somethin' that'll get you in trouble."

The sound of Gemma's protests faded as Olivia and the deputy went through the automatic doors and they closed behind them. She paused a moment and pressed a hand to her mouth. She had no idea if she'd done the right thing. With any of it: sending the pictures to Patterson, covering for Gemma, telling Jax the truth. It felt dirty. Sordid and disloyal.

She closed her eyes and thought about Tara. The huge wound on the side of her head. The fear in her eyes. The feel of her arms around Olivia as they'd hugged goodbye. She shivered a little and pulled herself together. She had a long road ahead and she didn't have time to fall apart now.

She peeked in Juice's room and saw Chibs sitting by the bed. His head was bowed, his forehead resting on his tented fingertips. She thought maybe he was praying. For Juice? For Gemma? For all of them?

The door drifted shut behind her and she cleared her throat, softly. Chibs jerked and took a moment to surreptitiously wipe his eyes before he looked back at her. His face moved in a genuine smile.

"Ollie girl," he said and rose to his feet. He held his arms open and she wrapped hers around his waist. He ran a hand over her hair and made soothing noises as she fought back tears. "How long do you have?" he said.

"Mostly depends on you."

He sighed and pulled away. Fished a bit of paper from his cut and handed it to her. "This address, six o'clock. Flanary will be there, alive, and wrapped pretty as a Christmas Day package for you."

She nodded and tucked it away. "Then I have until six o'clock."

"Ach, lass," he murmured. "I suppose it's for real this time, aye?"

"Looks like it," she said with a rueful little grimace.

"And what about our Juicy here?"

"I guess that's up to him, the stubborn ass. Unless he wakes up—" She broke off and shrugged.

His eyes were shrewd on hers. "Did you tell Jackie about his role in it?"

"Of course I didn't. But there are too many people who know. It's inevitable that he finds out eventually."

"Bobby and I agree he won't hear it from us. I imagine Tiggy will say the same thing."

She resisted the urge to bite her lip as she absorbed that in silence. "How's Tig? I'm surprised he's not here."

"He's well enough. Mad as a wet hen. He had to stop by St. Thomas and get some stitches, and I told him to go home and rest. He needed time to cool off a bit." He took her by the chin and tilted her head this way and that. "I see they did quite a number on you, too."

"Mm," she said, shortly. Then, "Chibs, I need one more favor."

He let out a long sigh and scraped a hand down his face. His head fell back and he seemed to appeal for patience. "Go ahead, lass."

"I told them we had no idea the guard was an FBI agent. They're willing to grant immunity for his death, but only if we all swear in a signed affidavit that we didn't know."

His mouth quirked. "And of course we didn't."

"Right. So it shouldn't be a problem, should it?"

"Not at all, lass. I'll follow you back tonight and we can take care of it then. As soon as we're done here I'll let Happy and Tig know what they need to do."

"Thank you. I also told them how I stayed inside the warehouse while the rest of you took care of the guards—so I have no idea what happened. I mean, in case they ask."

"Got it." He cast a glance back at Juice's still form. "I should give you some time." He dropped a hand onto her shoulder and squeezed. "See you outside."

She nodded, suddenly too overcome to speak, and he brushed past her and out the door. She stood still and watched the rise and fall of Juice's chest. Listed to the heart monitor's steady beat and the whoosh of the ventilator.

She stepped closer and brushed her fingers against his forehead. "Hey, baby," she said. "I miss you."

She wanted to see his eyes more than she'd ever wanted anything. Even if he woke up and said no, he wanted to stay in Charming, he wasn't ready to remake his entire life from the ground up…she still wanted to see his smile one more time.

"Fuck," she whispered. Swiped at her cheeks. "You've got to wake up, Juicy. Please, babe. I never thought I'd say this, ever—but I'm not sure I can do this without you." She leaned down so that her mouth was almost touching his ear. "I'm so scared. I don't want to leave you. I've never wanted to leave you, even when I thought about running from Charming. It was you who kept me here. It's always been you, love."

She dragged the chair closer and lowered herself into it. Rested her hand on his arm and stroked his skin with her thumb. "I can't believe I even talked to you the night we met. I mean, men come up to me in bars sometimes. It's part of being in a bar with tits and no man glowering over you. I always shut them down and sent them away. I still can't quite figure out how you were different.

"Sometimes I wonder if things would've gone the same way if I had shut you down. We still would've met at TM. But…I wouldn't have known any of the shit I knew from that night. The way you taste. The way you touch me. How you make me laugh and the way you smile when you're perfectly, completely happy. I don't know that I would've let you get close enough for me to find out all that stuff.

"God, I feel like I'm eulogizing you," she said through sniffles. "This is so ridiculous."

There was a box of tissues on the bedside table, that scratchy hospital kind that hurt your nose after a few swipes, but it wasn't like she had any choice in the matter. She pressed one across her eyes and shook her head.

"Probably better you're asleep, honestly. I look look like…well, like someone bounced my face off a wall. It's okay, though. Looks worse than it feels."

She ran a finger along the back of his hand. "Do you remember last Thanksgiving? It was right after we finally got together, and everyone was at Gem and Clay's. We thought we were so goddamn sneaky. Gemma sat us across from each other and I just…I couldn't take my eyes off you the whole day. You'd been so sad, but that one day you were happy. Or at least you seemed it." She smirked. "Then when we got back home we broke that little table I had in the hall. Someone couldn't keep his pants on long enough to make it to the bedroom. Though I guess maybe I helped a little."

The tissue was a shredded mess in her hand, so she grabbed another one. "We could've had two and a half years if I hadn't been so stubborn. Fourteen months of it you were in jail, but still. You would've been mine. You would've had someone to come home to. Instead I pushed you away and told you I didn't want you and that—I've told some lies in my life, but that one was maybe the stupidest." She took a long, hitching breath. "You're everything I've ever wanted without having any idea I wanted it. Maybe that sounds stupid. Fuck. I should've told you all of this when you were awake to hear it."

She lowered her forehead to rest against the edge of the bed. "Don't do this to me, Ortiz," she pleaded. "It's not fair. What the fuck am I supposed to do without you? I'm yours and you're mine. It wasn't supposed to go down this way. I know things hardly ever work out the way we want, but maybe just this once we could get a break. Just this once. It can't rain all the time," she said as her voice choked with the force of her sobs.

She must have cried herself to sleep like that, hunched over beside the bed with her head on her folded arms, because the next thing she knew Chibs was standing behind her with his hand on her back and his voice quiet in her ear.

"Ollie darlin', time's up."

Olivia jerked upright. Juice was still unconscious. A doctor stood next to him checking the machine's readouts and looking over his chart. He offered her a kind, tired smile.

"Ms. Gable, I'm Dr. Henry. I performed Mr. Ortiz's surgery."

She swallowed and rubbed a hand over her gritty eyes. The pain from her bruises was steadying and helped tether her. "Dr. Bryant said if he wasn't awake within twenty-four hours…?"

Dr. Henry looked grave. "It's true we would prefer some more signs of improvement by now, but the fact that things haven't gotten worse is reason to hope. His vitals are strong. As I'm sure you're aware, his heart stopped both in the ER and on the operating table. All tests indicate good brain activity. I still think it's just a matter of time at this point."

"I don't have time," she said. She glanced at the clock on the wall. "A few hours. That's it."

He spread his hands. "I have no way of knowing how long it will be. I'm truly sorry, Ms. Gable."

There was a knock on the door and Donnelly poked her head in. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but Agent Carmichael just called. He says he needs his answer."

Olivia's chin trembled as she pulled out the bit of paper Chibs had given her. "Teddy's here," she said and waved it. "Could you give me a minute? Tell Carmichael I'm coming, and he'll get what he wants."

Donnelly nodded and disappeared.

Dr. Henry cleared his throat. "I'll be in the hall if you have any more questions."

Chibs started to go too, but she grabbed his cut. "Stay," she said. "Please."

"Aye, lass," he said, gently.

She turned back to Juice and summoned a smile from somewhere. "I guess this's it," she said. She kissed his jaw, the spot she always kissed when they stood together, his arms tight around her shoulders, his big hands warm on her back, and that one spot was the closest thing she could reach with her mouth.

"I love you, Juicy, and I always will. Wake up, okay? Even if you can't wake up for me, please at least wake up." She straightened and shoved her hair behind her ears. "Let's go," she said to Chibs. "Now, before I change my mind."

Chibs rested a hand on the small of her back and led her from the room. She didn't look back. She knew if she did all her resolve would crumble and she'd stay parked by that hospital bed until he opened his eyes, deal be damned.

At least this way, if—no, when—he woke up, there was still a chance. If she went to Atlanta there wasn't any. They would kill her and make it look like an accident and she would never see him again.

This way gave her hope. Slim and small and faint, but hope. And it was just enough to keep her going.

Last night I finally got around to watching the first two eps of Outlander, and somewhere about mid-pilot I realized that Olivia is STRONGLY influenced by Claire Frasier. I've read the first of those books 3 times, I think, and the second one twice, and I've gotten through 5 of them in all. I read Outlander the first time when I was pretty young, like 17? So it had a strong impression on me. Anyway. If you dig Olivia you'd probably dig Claire, and lord knows Jaime's the hottest thing in a kilt. Also the show is really presented to cater to the female gaze, and that's a refreshing change over, say Game of Thrones; also made from a book series I love but. Well. This isn't the forum for that. (GoT is just an example; one could fill in literally any other show on tv that isn't broadcast on Lifetime or something)