I just have to say… Writing this story is so much more enjoyable when Stahl isn't around?

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General trigger warnings for this story: Language, smut, mentions of rape, abuse, drug use/overdose, violence/death.

CHAPTER 3: BURSTING AT THE SEAMS

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Gemma made her way out of the hospital with Abel in hand after the emotional and unexpected conversation with Tara, feeling a weight lifting further and further off of her chest with each step that she took towards her car.

"Wayne?" She pulled her sunglasses off of her face as she eyed Unser where he sat, hunched over on a bench.

"Gemma." He perked up as he looked in her direction, his eyes following suit before they fell to a squint in the sun that was beginning to set earlier each day as winter approached. "The little guy doin okay?" He nodded to Abel.

"Yeah." She nodded with a grin - still unable to believe that she could finally say that. "Gotta beef him up a little, but." She shrugged with a chuckle that he mimicked. "How about you?" She asked in a considerately cautious tone that she was sure he was the only person to ever hear.

Unser blinked a few times, pulling his eyes away from her knowing gaze. "Right as rain." He scoffed casually, but his body language did not follow as he began to stutter. "This- this is just a… A follow-up." He tried to hold his smile for as long as he could before his saddened eyes trailed towards the pavement beneath his worn boots.

"Where're you at with it?" She questioned in a tone that she was more familiar with - the tone that demanded the truth.

"The BCG's are keepin it contained to my bladder…"

"I guess that's good." She tried to utter out optimistically - determined not to let anything ruin the good news that had been so hard to come by as of late.

"Yeah." He nodded unconvincingly.

"You, uh- you waitin on someone?" She looked down the empty street.

"Hale's pickin me up." He nodded sadly.

Gemma felt the pang in her heart for her old friend - the man whose own children didn't even care to help him in such a crucial time of need. She looked away from him and down at Abel who was cooing happily in his car seat. "We'll wait with ya." She nodded with the fierce resolve that he had fallen in love with all those years ago - the only thing that could bring a smile to his face at a time like this.

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"Okay, but how do you make them clap like that?" Lyla whined as she stood above Sydney where she crouched low to the ground in a black pleather bikini, trying to teach her how to twerk for the thousandth time.

"I told you!" She exclaimed, springing to her feet and swiping Lyla's drink from her hand that she surely didn't need - she was already loose enough. She ushered her intoxicated friend off of the set, guiding her over to the cluster of chairs where various crew members were waiting for Luann's approval. "Hold onto the railing." She told her as she slipped the long leather trench coat from her shoulders and directed her hands to the cold metal so that she could support herself better as she learned the rhythm. "Now flex your muscles and let gravity do the rest."

The two laughed hysterically as Lyla hopelessly tried to jerk her hips in a way that would make her cheeks do what Sydney's did, giving up with a pout. "My ass just isn't big enough." She stomped her platform against the black, glitter speckled floor.

"No way, I've seen flat girls do it online." Sydney giggled. "Ima knows how to do it." She perked up as the third member of their trio strutted back over after a trip to the bar.

"What?" Ima questioned with a silly scowl as she approached her friends.

"Twerk with a flat ass." Sydney smirked.

Ima rolled her eyes as moved to the other side of Lyla. "Try going slow." She demonstrated, not bothering to ditch the drinks in her hands as she crouched down, balancing much easier without the leather pleasers that brought the other girls an extra eight inches off of the ground. "Start raising up slowly and then flick your hips."

"Like you're riding dick." Sydney added, immediately regretful as the bitter reminder that her days of being comfortable with her sexuality were far behind her. "Flex your muscles at the last second." She blinked, refocusing herself on the task at hand.

"Oh my god!" Lyla screeched as she copied them with some success this time, reaching for her drink from Sydney's hand which she downed in celebration.

"Oh, you girls." Luann zipped passed them on her way to the director's chair with a roll of her eyes. "Always shaking those asses around." She slipped her glasses on as she began scrolling through the photos of the three gorgeous blondes modeling the newest bondage line.

"Awe, Lu." Sydney mock-pouted. "You're just jealous you aint got no ass to shake around." She joked with a grin as she clapped her heavily tanned ass cheeks in her new boss' face, howling with laughter as Lyla cheered her on with a barrage of spanks.

"Oh, sweetie - I paid too much to get rid of my ass to afford to be jealous." Luann shook her head with mock-sympathy, turning her attention back to the camera screen with a playful smile. "These are gorgeous, girls." She told them with a thoughtful nod as she swiped through the montage of seductive poses that she felt could rival Playboy head-on, once again thanking the porn gods that Sydney had finally come around to her offer. "You tell Laura that she did a great job." She looked over their heavily oiled bodies and beautifully painted faces where their cheeks were skillfully contoured and their striking eyes were surrounded by a pitch black kohl that had been smoked out to perfection.

Ima beamed under the praise. "Drink?" She passed Sydney her favorite now that everybody was officially wrapped for the night - Tequila Sunrise.

"She's not drinking tonight." Lyla happily swiped the drink instead, flashing the three blondes a mischievous grin.

"Since when?" Ima scoffed.

"Tig's on business - gotta drive myself home." Sydney frowned theatrically.

"Lu, I'm not gonna be able to make it tomorrow." The nasally voice cut Ima off before she could come up with a solution to Sydney's excuse - the only thing that could make her tolerant of the woman that she turned to see.

Cheryl avoided the wandering eyes of the star trio that she had learned the hard way to stay away from, turning back to Luann whose expression didn't make her feel much better - but it didn't matter, she was going to go somewhere that she would be appreciated.

"Come on, Cher." Luann sighed, throwing her glasses down into her lap. "Who the hell am I gonna find to replace you in tomorrow's anal rain dance this last minute?" She threw her arms up in frustration.

Sydney stifled a smirk while Ima avoided Luann's silent plea. "I'll do it, Lu." Lyla sighed at the unwillingness of her friends - feeling a twinge of jealousy that they had the luxury of choosing what jobs they did and didn't do.

"Suit yourself." Ima scoffed.

"Christmas is comin up… Piper wants the new Littlest Pet Shop clubhouse." She gave a playful roll of her eyes to combat the sad smile on her face.

Cheryl stalked out quickly without another word once she was off the hook - glad that she didn't have to stay and try to come up with an excuse as to why she needed her retainer back the way that some of the other girls had needed to do.

"You know she's going to Georgie too, right?" Ima raised her brow in Luann's direction - always a little too eager to stir the pot.

"Do we care?" Sydney scoffed.

"She wasn't making me any money anyways." Luann shrugged. "But if any of you three go to Georgie - I promise you that there will be hell to pay. You hear me?"

"Yes ma'am." Ima put her hands up in defense. "I guess you won't be needing that then." She swiped Lyla's drink - the drink that was Sydney's drink - before making her way over to join the afterparty.

Lyla chuckled as she watched Ima strut away and immediately begin flirting with the bartender who was far too generous with his pouring - but the girls certainly didn't mind. "You sure you won't come tomorrow night?" She turned back to Sydney with a whine - something that she was coming to realize that pornstars did a lot. "There's still time to get matching costumes." She added hopefully.

Sydney rolled her eyes with a smile. "Nah." She shook her head regretfully. She had become something of a regular at Cara Cara in her last lonely few months - there was never a shortage of attention for her in the porn studio. "Bobby's gettin' out…" She reminded her.

"Oh yeah, that's right." Lyla mused playfully, still not understanding why Sydney would want to spend Halloween drinking beer with middle-aged, recently incarcerated men instead of attending an extravagant, champagne-catered costume party with her girlfriends.

"Sounds like you're gonna be sore, anyways." Sydney winked.

"Don't remind me." Lyla scoffed, leaning in to kiss her friend on the cheek rather than hug her while their bodies were still slick with oil. "Get home safe!" She called over her shoulder as she made her way to her dressing room.

"Always do." Sydney rolled her eyes. "Night, Lu."

"Night, baby. You let me know if you change your mind about that locker room special!" Luann called after her.

"Yeah, yeah." Sydney waved her off as she located her cigarettes, smiling around the white cylinder as they carried on their usual back and forth routine that she knew Luann hoped she would break, just as she had the first one.

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AJ Weston stalked through the dimly lit building, his eyes straining in disgust as he made out the variously coloured men carving out furniture during the overtime hours until he finally spotted the man that he was looking for: Ernest Darby.

Darby approached cautiously, eyeing the fellow bad man with his beady gaze. "I talked over your offer with my guys." He told him by way of a greeting.

"Talked over?" Weston scowled in offense, feeling much less restrained in his reaction before the like-minded man than he had in the presence of the Hales. "It's a no-brainer."

"See, I'm a little fuzzy about your end in this." Darby squinted skeptically. "What exactly goes into the League's pocket?"

"You think this is about money for us?" He scoffed.

Darby raised a brow. Of course he thought it was about money. What else would it be about?

"You got kids, Darby?"

"No." He sighed, reluctantly feeding into whatever bullshit analogy he was about to be presented with.

"I just pulled my six-year-old out of T-ball because I found out that they were giving trophies to every boy, on every team, for simply playing the game." He swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "Trophies should be earned. Teaching children that everyone is equal is a dangerous philosophy." He nodded, turning towards the array of employees that worked in Darby's shop. "But maybe you've lost sight of that." He raised a brow.

Darby rolled his eyes. "Business is down thirty percent, I can't afford the white guys." He smiled sarcastically.

"Never put money before race." Weston gave a curt nod, pulling an envelope out of his pocket. "This is $5K. It should get you operational inside of Charming."

Darby couldn't fight the familiar greed that sparked in his veins as he instinctively reached for the cash, laughing nervously as he realized what he was doing. "And when Clay finds out I'm dealing crank and pussy in his backyard?"

"There's a phone number inside the envelope." Weston nodded - knowing that he'd succeeded this time. "Call it and tell our Aryan brothers how much manpower you need - and if I were you? I would button your shirt." He flicked the distorted swastika that sat just above Darby's neckline.

"I got nothin to hide." Darby told him smugly.

"It's not about hiding." Weston shook his head as his jaw tightened. "You haven't earned it."

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Tig rode nervously up the hill to Sydney's house. His meeting with Trammel had gone as well as he could've hoped for while trying to choose an innocent man to kill in place of his mistake, but he knew that was only one of his worries for the evening. He took a deep breath, ironically hoping that he would turn onto her street and find that nobody was home so that he could just have a moment of peace before the storm. But instead, he was surprised to see that the lights were on and her car was in the driveway.

He scowled, trying not to allow himself to get too optimistic - but she was never home from Cara Cara this early. He killed his engine, slinging his helmet over the handlebars before making his way up to the front door where he unlocked it - inhaling the comforting warmth of the vanilla-scented candles that he could smell were burning.

He made his way up the stairs, a crease still in his forehead as his ears perked up at the sound of the TV coming from her bedroom. "Hey, baby." He greeted her cheerfully as she came into view, sitting cross legged in bed with a bare face, her hair piled on top of her head, and a crossword puzzle in hand - a familiar sight that he had missed, and that flooded him with relief. Maybe she hadn't gone after all.

"Hi, Tiggy." She smiled, pushing her distraction aside. "How did it go?" She asked wearily.

"Okay." Tig nodded, sliding off his heavy kutte and laying it on the stool of her vanity as he made his way into the closet for some comfier clothes - ridding himself of the constricting button-down and replacing it a black t-shirt, strolling back out in his boxers. "Had to pick the best one." He grimaced. "Mayan with some statutory rape charges."

Sydney nodded slowly. "How do you feel about that?" She questioned carefully. She didn't give a shit who answered for Donna's death, whether they deserved it or not - but she knew that his conscience.

"Okay." He nodded sincerely as he made his way around to his side of the bed. He wasn't sure if it was the facade that he'd learned to hide behind well enough that his true feelings were concealed even from himself, but it was what he felt was the truth in the moment - and it was a truth that he was able to share with her, which was a luxury that he couldn't afford to question.

"So, what'd you do today, angel?" He changed the subject, leaning in where he pecked her lips and turned his attention towards the TV where she was watching Breaking Bad. "Is this the new episode?" He scowled as he studied a scene that he didn't recognize.

"Finale - I just started it. You were taking too long." She giggled, poking him in the side.

"Well restart it!" He shook his head in mock-impatience.

"Okay." Sydney chuckled, reaching for the remote. "Me and the kids made Halloween cupcakes for them to take to school tomorrow." She told him as she rewinded the first few minutes of the show.

Tig's jaw fell open as his head swiveled dramatically towards her. "So you're watchin the finale without me, and hidin cupcakes from me?" He exclaimed, painting a bashful blush across her cheeks. "Damn, woman." He shook his head, turning it back towards the TV.

"I thought the cake-scented house and sprinkle-covered floor would've been telling enough." She chuckled, making to get out of bed to retrieve the dessert.

"Nah, nah, nah." He grabbed her hand, pulling her back into bed beside him. "I got it, Princess." He told her, pressing another kiss to her lips as he jumped to his feet and trotted down the stairs with a smile on his face. He was proud of himself - this was the longest that he had been able to provide her his undivided attention before his mind began to blend her face with Donna's, before her hair began to darken and her warm skin began to feel cold to the touch. Things were slowly but surely returning to normal.

Sydney felt a steady buzz rippling under her skin - the vibrations manifesting into full blown shivers after he had acted so normal. She tried to slow her breathing, willing herself to calm down - not to get her hopes up, but the giddy smile stayed plastered on her face as he returned holding a container full of cake.

"What happened last night?" He nodded to the TV as he shoveled a bite of chocolate cake into his mouth.

Sydney rolled her eyes with a snicker. And to think that he was getting mad at her for watching without him - he didn't even know what happened when he did watch. "They need to up distribution because Walt wants to make more money, Skinny Pete introduced them to Tuco, Jesse got fucked up, Walt went and demanded their business."

"That's right." Tig nodded along. Even if he had remembered all the details - he still would've asked just to hear her explain them.

Sydney dug into the mountain of cake as well, scooping out a spoonful of vanilla instead - squealing as it crumbled off of her fork on the way to her mouth. She did her best to get it between her teeth in time, but her efforts were useless as half of it tumbled down her chest, and the other half smooshed against her nose and upper lip.

Tig grinned in amusement as she sat stunned before beginning to laugh, trying to swallow her half-bite without choking. He felt his own chest beginning to rumble with laughter, unable to stop as he fed off of her - pulling her into him where he licked the frosting off of her nose and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that lasted longer than any other kiss that they'd shared in the last three months.

Sydney felt herself getting dizzy as she reveled in the intoxicating taste of his lips - a taste that Donna's death had deemed forbidden. She was careful not to let herself overindulge - pulling back with glossy eyes as they trailed down his relaxed form as he laid in her bed with a lazy smile.

Maybe Gemma was right. Maybe this was good for them. They'd found intimacy in places that they never even knew existed - places far beyond sex. Maybe it didn't have to be such an awful thing - taking a break, slowing down. It didn't have to be this horrible elephant in the room that neither of them would address but would happily take on the weight of. It would come back in time - she would bring it back in time, just like she had the smile on his face.

But the tiny piece of hope that Sydney had finally managed to finally get ahold of, shattered instantly when she heard it - moaning coming from the TV. A heat came to her cheeks as her eyes flew to the screen, but it wasn't the coy flush that she had been brandishing since he'd gotten home, it was the scarlet mark of shame that she had been forced to wear since that fateful day in August.

"I have to pee." She quickly slid out of bed and into the bathroom where she slammed the door shut and covered her ears, trying desperately to drown out the sounds of the sex scene that only reminded her of everything that she was trying to forget - the frustration bringing tears to her eyes.

Tig frowned as she practically leapt out of his arms, leaving him alone with the crushing weight of guilt that harshly came back down after so cruelly being lifted. He pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself not to put his fist through the TV screen that had ruined the bit of peace that he was stupid enough to think he was being rewarded with for his progress - clutching the pendants around his neck instead.

Though the words hadn't been spoken, he wasn't an idiot. He had noticed that his inabilities to get over the incident were affecting her by the little things - like the way that she didn't sleep naked anymore, she now showered after him instead of with him, she waited to change until after he had left the room, and she started taking much longer baths that always resulted in the being door closed. He knew that she wasn't happy, and he missed the normality and comfort that he always felt with her, and in turn that he provided for her - a comfort that he hated seeing her no longer have in his presence under the fear of rejection. But he had no idea how to get it back without the blaring image of what he'd done seeping in and distorting reality as it had every single day since he'd pulled that damn trigger. All he knew was that he had to start trying before it was too late.

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Song for this chapter

Prisoner - The Weeknd ft. Lana Del Rey