The deed has been done, and Tig wishes that he could take it back, especially after Sydney makes it her life's mission to show him just how wrong he was in thinking that he was doing the right thing.

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

Playlists are available on Apple Music (mssierraalexis), and Spotify (M.S. Alexis), links can also be found on the ARAC Tumblr (aravenamongcrows). Be sure to follow where ask and submissions are open, and m. s. alexis on Instagram (tracking #aravenamongcrows), for exclusive photos, updates, and more!

CHAPTER 40: AND RUN

;

Tig barely made it back to the clubhouse after a near-miss with a minivan, and another two with pedestrians - even on the short drive. He ignored the greetings that he received from his brothers as he walked stiffly down the hallway and into his dorm where the crunching of glass beneath his boots pulled him from his haze. He felt his jaw clenching as he glared down at the remnants of the whiskey bottle; a bitter reminder of the night that had resulted in the dull pain in his heart - the pain that made him forget all about why he'd been given the pills in the first place. The pills. Sydney had been right, everything he'd witnessed that had pushed him into the decision was because of those fucking pills.

He stomped over to the nightstand, swiping the neon bottle with the intention of throwing it against the wall to join its shattered counterpart, when he was stopped dead in his tracks by the glint of Sydney's gold necklace staring up at him. He felt his heart crumbling all over again, the pain of the sensitive organ being ripped in half sending him doubling over. He regretted it all. He wished so badly that he would've just waited it out before giving in to his insecurities like a damn coward. He should've known that there would be no turning back, no pleading his case, no explaining things away - not to someone like Sydney.

He squeezed the bottle of offending pharmaceuticals until his hand began to shake as the shards of plastic punctured his calloused skin. He'd always known that he wasn't cut out for the happiness that a relationship brought, and this was exactly why; because he destroyed anything good that could ever find its way into his life.

;

Sydney sat at her dining room table smoking a cigarette as she stared blankly off into the distance, into the nothingness, as she ran through everything from the last twenty-four hours - an act that she wished she hadn't been conditioned to do when she found herself grappling with an unfavorable outcome. Figure out what you did wrong, don't let it happen again, Happy had always told her.

She took a particularly long drag that, any other day, she likely would've choked on, but today, she had a little extra space in her chest. She'd thought that she was just feeling off about the club, but she now realized that the feeling she'd had in her gut the whole time was for something very different - something that she didn't want to accept.

Her phone vibrated, pulling her from the turmoil and providing her with the perfect distraction. She stamped out her cigarette and took a deep breath before heading to the front door where she pulled on her leather jacket, and tucked her Glock into her waistband.

;

Jax watched regrettably as Opie slung the backpack of explosives over his shoulder while everybody exited the clubhouse. He had a bad feeling about this. They should've been treading lightly with A.T.F. hovering, but instead, they were diving in head first. "Where's your little Princess?" He asked Clay with a bite in his tone once he realized that everybody was firing up their bikes, and Sydney was nowhere in sight.

"Gonna meet us there." Clay bit back, blinking slowly at his testy stepson as he revved his engine, and peeled out of the lot.

;

Tara sat at the kitchen table that was still feeling like a confusing homage to coming home to herself, and a bitter reminder that she hadn't been able to. She sighed as she pushed away her unfinished bowl of Raisin Bran, leaning down to grab her bag off of the floor when she was startled by an angry rapping at her door. She nearly fell backwards in her chair, quickly diving to the ground where she fished through her purse for the gun that Gemma had given her before crawling towards the door that was rattling on the hinges. She carefully got to her feet, looking through the peephole before breathing a sigh of relief, feeling stupid for once again, getting so worked up.

"What the hell did you give him?" Sydney burst through the door the second that Tara cracked it open.

"Excuse me?" Tara was completely taken aback when the angry blonde barged into her home the exact same way that Gemma had... She was right all along in thinking that they were the same.

"I went out of my way to help you, and you repay me with bad drugs?" She spit out incredulously.

"I did what I could, with what I had. I'm not your damn mob doctor." Tara sneered.

Sydney stayed silent. She knew that she'd bought herself a first class ticket on the blame-train. Tig's reaction wasn't Tara's fault, and she had gone out of her way to warn him of the effects - even though they both knew that he didn't need it.

"And you didn't help me with shit!" Tara scoffed. "You helped her, the same way that everybody does."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Sydney shook her head. Apparently she wasn't the only one acting irrationally this morning...

"Oh, don't play dumb with me!" Tara shook her head, taking a threatening step closer. "You may look like another half-bright club slut, but you're too smart to get played. You knew all along what she wanted. You got lucky finding out about Kohn, feeding me that shit about your mother, making me think that you cared, getting me to admit…" She trailed off, shaking her head shamefully. Too much time away had made her forget just who she was dealing with when it came to the residents of this poisonous town, that was clear now. "You saw a situation that you could spin to make Jax hate me, and you took it."

To say that Sydney was shocked by the mess that Tara had created inside of her head, would be an understatement - but it was an understatement that had her feeling much better about the mess that she had created inside of her own.

"Maybe you two do belong together." She scoffed before stalking out of the house. She'd never understood how the plain, uptight doctor had twisted herself to fit into the life of a biker, but seeing her speak so confidently when she had absolutely zero facts, and knew that Sydney was dangerous, made it a little bit easier to understand.

She wove in and out of traffic, the rush of adrenaline being the only thing that she allowed herself to feel. She couldn't see, hear, or think. She was in a haze, a haze fuelled by rage - which, when allowed, was when she operated best.

;

SAMCRO sat halfway down the access road to the pack-house anxiously awaiting Sydney's arrival when her bike finally came into view, spitting up rocks behind her as she sped towards the antsy men. The assumption was that the secluded cabin would be empty, but they would go in on foot to avoid drawing attention, just in case.

"Been waiting." Clay commented as Sydney removed her helmet and dismounted her Ninja without a word.

"Sorry." She apologized flatly, not bothering to look her President in the eye before she took off towards their destination.

Clay gave a very guilty looking Tig a pointed glance before joining his crew in scrambling after her long strides, the Sergeant trailing behind while Chibs, Juice, and Bobby stayed behind to act as lookout. They approached the unkempt cabin with rickety wooden walls surrounded by trees and bushes where the simple job quickly took a complicated turn as they realized that there were several bikes and cars surrounding the small property, and loud music could be heard from inside.

"Thought this place was supposed to be empty." Jax chewed the inside of his lip. They hadn't come prepared for a fight at all, no vests, no proper weapons, no ammo. All they had was the element of surprise.

"I guess the Mayans start their fiestas early." Clay grinned menacingly, pulling out his gun. He had let his other concerns - coupled with his trust for Trammel - get in the way of proper preparation, but he wasn't going to tell his crew that, instead, he was just going to have to pray for a miracle.

"What's our game plan here…" They had successfully avoided a Mayan war for months - despite some of their best, and not-so-well-thought-out efforts - but Jax knew that the fuse would only stray from the flame for so long, and the only way to stop that explosion from happening was-

"No witnesses." Sydney stated as she cocked her gun, taking off towards the cabin through the bushes, ignoring the chorus of whispered protests behind her.

A smirk ghosted across Happy's lips. He knew that rage anywhere, knew it well enough to know that it had been conjured up by someone - and he had a feeling that it was the curly-haired man who hadn't looked anywhere but at his boots since he'd woken up this morning.

Sydney felt her powerful strides being halted by someone harshly gripping her bicep, spinning around where she came face to face with those pleading, blue, blue eyes. "Don't." She growled, pressing her gun against his forehead without a second thought. She was operating on a one-track mind, channeling everything that she was feeling into completing the task at hand. She had no patience for bullshit, especially Tig's.

Clay and Happy both squeezed their eyes shut once they saw the scene unfolding. Not only was it now obvious that Sydney and Tig were on the outs, but their standoff was happening smack-dap in the middle of where they were supposed to be moving in, undetected. Clay shook his head, wondering if maybe he hadn't been wrong in worrying initially that the emotion-fuelled, rogue actions of a woman would be bad for the club...

Tig felt his heartbeat quicken when she stared at him with that look, a murderous look that he understood all too well. He held his hands up as he backed away from her slowly, the rest of the group exhaling the breaths that they'd unintentionally been holding - not wanting to make any sudden movements that could set her off. Once Tig was a safe distance away, she lowered her weapon and turned back around, nodding for them to follow.

Happy and Opie looked to Clay with raised brows, unsure whether or not they should be taking her lead, but the white-haired man didn't really see any other option since she was already on the move - rolling his eyes as he nodded for everyone to follow. Jax held back a smirk as she led the crew towards the house full of enemies without an ounce of fear for the threat, her old man, or her President.

Once the entourage was crouched safely underneath a side window, Clay began directing each member to their post so that they could strategically take down this pack-shack without a hitch. "We gotta surround this place. Get in position, take a thirty count-" Sydney's mind blurred with the echoing of Tig's words bouncing around in her brain, and before she knew what she was doing, she was on her feet walking towards the back door. "Syd!" Clay whisper-yelled. "Take the front!" He ordered Tig, Jax, and Opie before scrambling to his feet, chasing after her with Happy in tow.

They caught up to Sydney just seconds too late, reaching the top of the porch right as she kicked the door in and immediately began firing. The position at the back door gave her a view of the majority of the cabin; taking in the layout from her clear line of sight to the front door with the kitchen and living room to her left, the dining room to her right, and hallways in all four corners.

Tig's eyes widened when he heard gunfire from inside of the house, racing up the steps and kicking in the front door where he looked to his right and took down a Mayan that had been struggling to get his gun out. He wasn't quick enough to catch the second Mayan; a prospect who ducked into the kitchen. Sydney took a few shots at him when Tig missed, but he was too quick as he scrambled to take cover before firing off shots in all directions as a distraction.

Tig dropped to the ground when the rogue bullets began flying, sitting with his back against the couch while Sydney ducked to reload. "Check the back rooms." She instructed Clay and Happy who were too in awe to argue after they hadn't had to take down a single enemy, doing as they were told and heading down the opposite back hallways. Clay was wrong, she wasn't a worry at all, she was his miracle.

Jax hung back with Opie outside of the door, taking a few shots here and there to look engaged until Tig gave him the signal from his position in the living room, heading to check the left hallway at the front of the house. The VP nodded for his best friend to follow when the coast was clear, figuring that Opie could start wiring the explosives once they cleared the corridor since Sydney had eliminated most of the threat. In and out.

Sydney peeked around the corner, ducking back once she got a visual of the Mayan's position in the kitchen. She knew that she had to be quick if she was going to make it past the opening between the cupboards and the countertop to get a clear shot. She took a deep breath as she squeezed her eyes shut, slamming her head back against the wall behind her as she thought about everything that Tig had said to her this morning, all of the soft fucking things that she'd let herself feel for him, all the tears of weakness that she'd shed over him.

The recounting did its job, fuelling her fire and sending her launching into the kitchen where she put a bullet straight between the man's eyes before he could even register that she had moved.

Tig heard angry footsteps, and then a single gunshot. He pushed himself to his feet, bolting to the kitchen where he worried he would find Sydney lying dead, but instead he found himself staring down the barrel of her gun, and into those vengeful green eyes. He wasn't as surprised the second time that he found himself in this position, but his heart sank and his eyes widened when everything around them blurred into a slow motion vision, and she pulled the trigger.

Happy stalked out of the hallway to a barrage of gunfire after he'd cleared a bedroom and bathroom in his corner, finding Sydney standing with her gun pointed at Tig once again, except this time, she fired. But the Sergeant didn't drop, the Mayan that had come up behind him did.

Tig almost choked on his own tongue when he heard the body drop behind him, gasping for air as he looked over his shoulder at another dead prospect who was holding a .357 that would've ended his life. In some kind of sick and twisted fate, she had just saved him from the very thing that he had been trying to protect her from, by leaving her. He looked up from the blood pooling on the floor to see her still standing with her gun on him and an evil smile on her flame-consumed face. He knew now just how badly he'd fucked up.

"All clear." Clay announced as he emerged from the hallway where Sydney continued to taunt Tig with the barrel of her gun.

"Explosives are ready to go." Jax nodded, exiting his hallway with Opie behind him, prompting Sydney to finally lower her weapon. "Jesus Christ…" He took a look around at the gruesome scene filled with dead Mexicans, and pounds of heroin, suddenly feeling less weary about blowing this shithole to hell - unsure if he was less weary because of the narcotics, or because he hadn't had to get any blood on his hands to get the job done to Clay's satisfaction.

"We done here?" Sydney pulled the slide back on her gun, ejecting the single round that she had left in her magazine.

Clay's eyes flicked to Jax's, then Tig's, then Happy's - still trying to process the perfectly mastered, sinful actions of the innocent looking girl standing before him.

Sydney took his answer as a yes, nodding curtly before taking off out the back door. Jax and Opie looked around the circle with raised brows, matching Clay's expression as she strutted off as if single-handedly taking down a group of deadly enemies was nothing.

"Whatever the hell you did… Please do it again." Clay begged Tig, earning a few snickers from the group before the distraught Sergeant ran out after her.

As concerned as Happy was for whatever Tig had done to fuel that kind of rampage, he had a permanent grin on his face after she had shown everyone just what he'd trained her for, having gone above and beyond even his expectations of what she was capable of.

Sydney marched through the thick brush while her ears rang loud enough that she didn't hear Tig calling after her - and it had nothing to do with the gunfire. "We're whole. Wiring up." She called to the lookout crew a few yards away from where her bike was parked as Tig approached, ignoring him as she swung her leg over the matte black machine, and reached for her helmet.

"Sydney, please…" He panted. "Let me expla-"

"Did you ever think about asking me what I wanted?" She cut him off as she snapped her head up, flipping her hair out of her face. "If I wanted kids, or some straight-laced husband?"

Tig hung his head for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He knew exactly where she was going with this, and he knew that, like everything else, he didn't have an argument.

"Because I don't." She snapped. "There was nothing that I fucking wanted besides that patch, until I met you." She swallowed the crack in her voice. "You can remember that next time you try to make a decision for me."

"Baby…" Tig's eyes filled with tears again when he heard the pain in her voice - the pain that he caused her.

"Have a safe run." She pulled her helmet down over her head, and sped away.

Tig walked stiffly back to his bike, chewing his tongue to keep himself calm. "Let's go." He yelled to Juice as he mounted his Dyna and nodded down the road.

"But, I thought Clay didn't want us heading up until later?" The ever so cheerful man quipped with a goofy smile.

"We got the crates now. It don't matter." He lied, taking off towards the warehouse where the truck was waiting.

;

Sydney pulled into her garage where she practically jumped off of her bike and began stripping off the heavy leather that she could feel suffocating her as the panic took over; panic that only increased when she heard a Harley rolling down her street. She looked up, blowing out a sigh of relief once she realized that it was just Happy - not bothering to close the door, or kill her engine.

"What happened." The Tacoma Killer didn't bother removing his helmet or cutting his engine either as he started yelling the dreaded question from the bottom of the driveway, stalking towards her as she continued what she was doing, pretending that she didn't hear him over the chugging exhaust.

"What happened." He repeated himself - something that he did not do - gripping her face in his hand so that she would meet his eyes.

Sydney felt the stinging in the back of her throat as she slapped his hand away, ripping her eyes from the black ones that were burning a hole through her facade, demanding answers that she didn't want to give.

"I know that rage…" He got no response once again, growing more and more frustrated. Happy wasn't a conversationalist at the best of times, let alone when he was talking to himself. "We lyin' to each other now?"

"Not saying anything isn't lying. You should know all about that." She sneered, finally looking up at him.

Happy narrowed his eyes in a way that let her know that her petty comments wouldn't be deterring him. He wouldn't be leaving until he got an answer that satisfied him.

"He doesn't want me. There's nothing to tell." She turned her attention to the zipper on her boot.

"Guess we are lyin' to each other." He scoffed.

"That's the truth." She snapped, craning her neck up at him fiercely from where she was hunched over.

"You really are twisted up if somethin's got you thinkin' that's the truth." He shook his head the entire time that he spoke. "We both know it ain't." He couldn't believe what she was saying. The way that Tig loved Sydney was as clear as day, anyone with eyes could see it - no matter how badly they might've wished that they couldn't.

"Yeah, well." She averted her eyes again. "I guess we were wrong."

"I'm never wrong."

"If you can't fucking accept what I'm telling you, then why don't you go find out for yourself?" She spit impatiently as she straightened up and threw her arms in the air.

"Okay." Happy nodded with his strong chin, returning to his bike.

"Ugh!" Sydney groaned when he sped away on his mission to pile more shit onto the plate that she couldn't seem to clear.

;

"So, how's your ass?" Juice asked cheerfully from the driver's seat as he and Tig began the drive to Indian Hills.

Tig sucked a breath through his gritted teeth as she swung his head away from where it had been resting against the window. "Shut up." He blinked slowly before turning back away. He'd forgotten all about the damn dog bite.

"Look, man, it's not my fault that you got bit, alright? You didn't specify what kind of drug." Juice shrugged as the Sergeant looked back over at the naive man, that wild look coming to his eyes. "I am not happy about this either. But at least you and I, you know, we could try to have a decent conversation."

"What?" Tig squinted. "What do you want? You wanna bond? You wanna get closer?" Juice pursed his lips and nodded, glad that he was finally getting through to the blue-eyed man."Fine." Tig shrugged, reaching down where he began unbuckling his belt. "Pull over."

"Uh, what?" Juice blinked.

"You're gonna stop, I'm gonna take my pants off, and you're gonna shove my cock down your throat." He deadpanned. "You're gonna gag, I'm gonna laugh - we'll be best friends forever."

"Why you gotta be that way, bro?" Juice groaned, returning to the silence that Tig had wanted in the first place.

After what felt like the longest ride ever for both parties, the pair finally arrived in Nevada. Tig jumped out of the truck the second that the brakes stopped squeaking, shaking his head to rid himself of the bad mood before he had to handle business. He entered the Indian Hills clubhouse, finding it relatively empty except for a couple of sweetbutts - a sight that he wished would have excited him.

"Hi…" He was greeted by the little brunette that he recognized as Half-Sack's stolen prize from last week.

"Hey, doll." He smiled. "Jury around?"

"He said you guys weren't comin' until later."

"Yeah… We got in a little early." He nodded to Juice who came skipping through the doorway, still far too chipper for him to handle. "Any idea when he's gonna be back?"

"No, they left for Vegas this morning." She frowned. "But I'll give him a call."

"That'd be great, thanks." He winked.

;

Jury sat angrily barricaded with his crew in the SAMNOV clubhouse. What was supposed to be a simple run to help out the Las Vegas charter as a thank you for their protection in the previous weeks, had now turned into a full blown standoff between the Sons, and the Mayans.

"Think this order came down from above?" Rollie asked as he stared out the window at the row of Mayans holding them hostage.

"Had to… We haven't done anything to warrant this kind of surveillance." Jury chewed his lip when his phone started ringing.

"Hey Jury, SAMCRO is here lookin' for you." Cherry's voice came down the line. "I know they're early, but he said he really needs to talk to you-"

"Put them on." He cut her off. The brunette knew better than to disobey an order from the President, scurrying out of the backroom and handing the phone to the older man with the bright blue eyes.

"Tig." He spoke down the line.

"Hey, I know we're supposed to pick up those guns today. I'm wondering if that has anything to do with the group of Mayans barricading us inside the clubhouse while we got no protection..." He mused.

"Mayans?" Tig scowled. He knew that Jury had obviously been having issues with their Mexican rivals, but there was no reason for things to have heated up to this degree, unless… "Let me give Clay a call." He hung up before the older man could protest, and immediately dialled his President. "Clay." He barked down the line the second that he picked up, stalking outside. "We got trouble, man. Mayans got Indian Hills trapped inside the Vegas clubhouse."

"Mayans?" Clay scowled the same way that Tig had when he'd heard the news. "They say why?"

"They don't know. You don't think it has anything to do with what we did for Trammel?" He squinted in the harsh Nevada sun.

"That should've been off the books." He shook his head. "Tell them to wait it out. Mayans won't waste their manpower for that long if they haven't stated their demands, it's a bluff. They probably figured we'd be selling to our new charter - trying to scare off the deal. You and Juice don't leave without that cash." He snapped his burner shut.

Tig grumbled when Clay gave his orders and hung up the phone, just as he had done with Jury. But he didn't bother calling the Nevada President back, instead he headed inside to begin drinking, because this was going to be a long run.

;

Songs for this chapter

Jokes on You - Charlotte Lawrence

Don't Hurt Yourself - Beyonce (feat. Jack White)