I sit on the cold steel beam, hiding away from the guys that are packing up below. No one looked twice when I pulled in and went straight to the roof. It was our hideout as kids and now I needed to find the peace it once granted us.

All the way over here, thoughts of confronting Clay kept me moving. My rage and pain were unbearable by the time I reached the gates outside TM. I left my phone in the car, needing to clear my head before I made a mistake I couldn't erase.

The darkened sky stretches out over the rooftops and the parking lot is silent. Clay's bike is still parked outside next to Rat's. My fingers ache from their clenched position in front of me. The voices in my head are finally quiet. The only sound is my rhythmic breathing. I carefully climb down the ladder and creep across the darkened lot.

The shitty plan I had gone over in my head all afternoon became more of an obsession. I repeated the words over and over until everything else faded away and I could breathe again. Now, as I slowly opened the door to the clubhouse, my subconscious screams to go home. But it isn't fair. He can't get away with this.

I find what I'm looking for in Filip's dorm room. He made sure I knew where it was after the attack from the Nazi's; another of Clay's mistakes that we all paid a price for. My hand closes around the cold metal and my fingers dance along the grip. I tuck the gun into my sweatshirt pocket.

I sneak down the hallway, avoiding the loose board that would give away my presence. Opie wants to handle this and I don't blame him, but I can't let Clay take my brother too. The soft light peeks out of the propped open chapel door. I close my eyes and inhale slowly.

"You scared me sweetheart." Clay clutches his chest when I open the door. "Chibs went home a while ago. He was lookin for you. Everything ok?"

"Not really." I confess, barely able to look at him. I linger behind my father's chair and imagine all the times we snuck in here as kids. We'd sit at this symbolic church and worship our fathers.

"Anything I can help you with?" He interrupts my walk down memory lane.

The giggle that escapes me is unrecognizable. "You want to help me?" I raise an eyebrow. "Let's see, can you bring back Uncle John? Donna? Or Kozik? How about my dad, Clay? Can you bring him back?" I grip the gun, pulling it out and pointing it at him.

"I don't know what you heard. . ." He starts. His condescending voice is too much for me.

"I saw my dad Clay, laid out on the floor!" I scream. "Do you know what my family has given up for you? Do you care?"

"You need to calm down before someone gets hurt." He stands up, heading toward me. I catch sight of the gun in his hand. "You don't want to do this."

"Just admit it and I'll leave." I counter. "I'll pretend none of this ever happened, I just need to hear you say it. Tell me you killed them!"

The door flies open and my brother barrels in, knocking Clay out of the way. The gun clatters on the table as the old man backs up. "Get out of here Bree!" Opie growls.

"Not until he's dead." I don't waiver. "He needs to pay for what he did to us."

"Jesus Christ!" Jax yells. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Like you care." I spit at him, my eyes locked on Clay. Opie steps over to me, covering my hand with his own and easing the gun from my grip.

"Don't do this baby girl." My brother whispers. "You need to leave now." I look up into his face and suddenly I'm 15 again. I drop my arm and the tears fall. "Go home to Filip."

"I can't." I sob. "I can't Opie."

My brother pushes me toward the door, keeping his gun pointed at Clay. "Get her out of here Jackson." He demands.

Jax stands in front of me, blocking the doorway. He glances over his shoulder at me. "Go!" he nods his head toward the hall. I refuse to move, needing to see this for myself. I ignore him, my focus on my brother. I listen to his hate-filled words as he rages at Clay. I barely flinch when he pulls the trigger.

"Opie don't." Jax begs. Opie raises the gun again, his eyes glazed over. Jax shoots him, sending the gun flying back against the wall. Opie growls and pulls his wrist to his chest. Jax tends to Clay as the world around me goes black and my knees buckle.

2 Days Later

"Ms. Winston, do you understand?" The doctor stands in front of me, studying me for signs of a breakdown. I roll my eyes, curling my feet underneath me. "Only way you're getting out of here is if you talk to me, give me something."

I stare ahead contemplating his words in silence. Dr. Griffin stands up and steps around the front of his desk, hoping to reach out to me apparently.

"Listen. I get that you come from a world that doesn't encourage talking about this stuff. I read your file; I get it." He leans closer to me as he continues. "I also know that you want to go home to your kids, you want to see them."

"You don't know shit." I mumble, keeping my eyes locked on the wall next to him. "And you don't want to."

"Maybe not." He shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. "And maybe I don't want to keep you here anymore. I want to see you go home to your family."

"My family." I can't hold the laughter in. "My family? Really? That's the best you have?"

"No, how about you tell me the truth, one truth about why you think you're here and I'll grant you a visit. Filip's here. He is arguing with my nurses right now and I'll let him in here but you gotta meet me halfway."

I perk up at the thought of seeing Filip after 48 hours of being locked away in a stark white room and having the nurses talk about me like I'm not even there. I consider his offer, fighting the compulsion to tell him where he can take it. "I'm here because my family is gone."

He stoops low in front of me to meet my eyes. "You still have your kids. You have a fiancé that refuses to leave my waiting room until he can see you and you have a brother. . ."

"A brother who is half dead inside. A brother who can't look at his own children without seeing their dead mother? Is that what you were going to say?" I jump out of my chair, the anger rushing through me. I close my eyes against the tears threatening to overflow.

"You're worried about Harry?" He asks, flipping through the paperwork on his desk.

"His name is Opie." I correct him. "I'm not worried about him, I've already lost him." Dr. Griffin scribbles furiously across his legal pad. "I told you what you wanted to hear, I want to see Filip."

"I'll go get him." He pushes away from the desk. I stare at the heavy door after he disappears behind it. The promise of seeing Filip has me nervous and excited at the same time.

The wait for them to return seems to take a year. When the door pushes open and he steps in, I throw myself into his arms. The safety he promises without a word helps to calm my anxiety.

"Ya gotta quit doin this ta me baby." He mumbles between kisses. "I need ya ta quit givin these doctors a hard time and do what ya need ta do. Our babies miss ya."

"I'm so sorry." I manage between tears. My breath catches in my throat as I bury my face in his chest. He massages my back, kneading away the last of my tension.

"Mr. Telford, have a seat." The doctor interrupts. "Maybe you can help."

"Whatever ya need?" Filip guides me to a chair before sitting down next to me. I stare at him, almost afraid to look away. "I just want Bree home."

"Me too." Dr. Griffin agrees with a grin.

"I'm fine." I tell them both, repeating my new mantra for the millionth time. "It's been a rough couple of years."

"Let me ask a few questions and if you can answer them honestly, maybe we can look at you getting out this place and into an outpatient program." The doctor leans back, waiting for my reply. Filip leans over and kisses my temple.

"Ya gotta do this love. Ya gotta come home ta me, ya promised." He mumbles.

"Fine, whatever." I give in. "Just do what you need to do and get me out of here."

Opie's POV

I shift in the hard plastic chair, trying to find a comfortable position. Chibs paces near the door with Ian sleeping against his shoulder. Micha sleeps peacefully in the stroller next to me as we wait for Bree. After 72 hours, she is finally cooperating.

The doctor sat us down yesterday, explaining her post-partum depression diagnosis. They had no clue what my sister had been through or they'd know that most of it had nothing to do with her pregnancy. My sister is broken. She is scared and she has every right to be.

I want Clay dead for everything he's done to this family. Jax makes promises he can't keep, gives grand speeches of family and change but it's easy for him. His family is intact. His offer of VP at a table that held so much loss is almost laughable.

The doors open and I stop, my mouth hanging open. My sister is a ghost of the woman she was. Her hair hangs limp and dull around her pale face. The shadows that stretch out under her eyes break my heart. Everything with the club is pushed aside at the scary image in front of me. The corner of her mouth turns up a little at the sight of us waiting for her. I jump out of the chair, careful not to wake my niece.

"You look like shit." She greets me with a sarcastic smirk. I stare at her, studying the demons that are alive in her eyes. The storm we've been dealing with is raging in her. She wraps her arms around my ribs, resting her cheek against my chest. I return the hug gently, terrified of breaking her.

"They got mirrors back there?" I choke out the words. "We make a good pair." I kiss the top of her head.

"I'm sorry." She looks up at me, her eyes swimming in tears. "I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." I whisper. "Nothing."

Chibs finishes up the release forms after handing Ian to Bree. She cradles him, staring down at his face with a soft smile. She leans down to put him in the stroller next to Micha.

"Can we just get outta here?" She asks, running her hand through her hair. "I need to go home."

I help her with her bag, pushing the stroller out into the parking lot. Jax waits outside, pacing near the door. He looks up at us with the same lost expression he's worn for days. All I saw when I look at him is Clay. It's hard separating the two lately. I don't envy the shoes he needs to fill and I don't agree with the way he's filling them. My anger and pain blur everything.

"I need to talk to Jackson." Bree speaks up before he does. Filip leans down to kiss her cheek.

"Ya sure?" He whispers, keeping his angry glare on Jax.

"Yeah." She nods. "Give me a few minutes."

Bree's POV

"Bree, I . . ." Jax starts to apologize. The look in my eye must be enough to stop his worthless words.

"You stayed?" I cross my arms over my chest. "Thought you'd be gone before they let me out of here."

"Things changed." He studies his hands, struggling with whatever is weighing on him. I take a few tentative steps toward him. "I don't know how to make this right."

"I don't have any answers for you Jax." I shake my head. "Everything in me right now is screaming for Clay's blood but since you seem bound and determined to make sure he stays alive, I don't know what you're looking for here."

"Let's play a game." He peeks up at me. "One truth for one truth."

"I don't know how much truth I can handle right now. I just want to get home to my kids." I walk past him.

"Bree." He calls out and I turn around, waiting for his last ditch effort. "I need my sister. I miss you."

"I miss who you used to be." I tell him. "The 'Clay Version' of you, not so much."

I don't let him say another word, spinning on my heel and heading toward the car.

Filip doesn't leave my side during my father's memorial service. I stare ahead, ignoring the stares and whispers from everyone around us. Ellie breaks down halfway through the service. I stoop low to comfort her, recognizing the fear and sadness in her eyes. She clings to me as she cries. I can't find the words to make this better for anyone, especially her.

The service ends and the guys file out of the funeral home one at a time. I linger behind, needing a moment alone.

"Didn't know you were here." The familiar voice interrupts my thoughts.

My mother turns to leave. "No, you're fine." I stop her. "Stay."

She stares at me, her mouth hanging open for a moment before she makes her way toward the wall of pictures I'm lost in. Memories of my childhood are on display for the world to see. I stare at the familiar images, anger and sorrow eating away at me. My fingers trace the outline of my favorite picture. My father holding Opie and I on his lap, pulling us as close to him as possible with a huge grin spread across his face. All the crap I put up with from him over the years, these memories outweighed everything.

"He fought for you." She finally breaks the silence. I keep my eyes focused on the image in front of me, my eyes swimming in tears again. "When I left, I was gonna take you both. He fought for you. He told me he knew Opie would come home eventually, knew that he'd never lose his son but he was terrified of losing his baby girl. It would have killed him. I couldn't do it."

"After you took off, I hated you. He was drunk every day and he was sad. He would cry about his broken family. I watched him grow distant and I blamed you. I blamed you for not being strong enough, for not caring enough. My dad was a great man that made horrible decisions. The things he held onto, killed him." I turn to look at her. "There were nights I got so angry with dad; I let myself hate him for a moment. I never thought of walking away. I would never have done it. I still can't walk away from this life mom but at least now I know why you did, I get it." Years of bitterness are gone in a second, replaced with a strange understanding of my mother that I never thought would come. She simply wasn't strong enough, wasn't fearless enough for this life and I actually envy her freedom from the weight of this club shit. "Why don't you stop by this afternoon and see the twins?" I start to re-think it the moment I see the tears in her eyes.

"Yeah. I think I will." She nods her head. Before I lose my mind completely and let her hug me, I turn to leave.

Opie waits for me at the door, overhearing my insanity. He stares at me, his eyebrow cocked. "You ok?"

"I'm fine." I avoid eye contact, staring over his shoulder at Filip and Jax. "I don't know why people keep asking me that."

"Because you're a stubborn bitch." My brother turns to walk away. He pauses a moment, watching the club gather around Jax. "Quit pushing him away. You need him and he's gonna need you when all this shit with the club settles."

"I'm not pushing Filip away." I cross my arms over my chest, ready for a fight.

"Not talking about him." Opie starts toward his bike. "He's your brother."

"You forgive him yet?" My brother stops, his shoulders stiff.

"I'm working on it." He doesn't look back, stomping toward his bike and taking off.