Desperate times call for desperate measures, but Sydney learns the hard way that repeating old habits has a tendency to conjure up old demons—even if all she was doing was trying to keep the new ones at bay.

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

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CHAPTER 68: CAPTIVE

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Sydney sat upright in her bed with the covers haphazardly pulled up to her waist, kicking her feet around underneath the frilly pink princess blanket while she waited to be properly tucked in. She knew that it was way past her bedtime by the way that the pale pink-coloured room was almost pitch black, except for the twinkling night light that was plugged in across the room. She sighed, using all of her might to push the covers away before sliding herself out of bed until her little feet hit the scratchy carpet, shuffling towards the door that was open just a crack.

"Mama?" She called down the hallway. "You forgot to tuck me in again!" She'd done that a lot lately...

But she got no answer. She stayed still for a few seconds, listening for any sounds coming from the relatively small house, but she heard nothing. She crept out into the light, peeking her head into the master bedroom that sat across the hall from hers. "Mama?" Her voice began to shake as she entered the dark room, carefully making her way through to the attached bathroom where she also found nothing. She turned back, scurrying out of the room quickly until she was in the light of the hallway again, the fear fading as she walked towards the spare bedroom which was illuminated by a night light like the one in her own room, entering this one more comfortably.

She looked around the small room, but it didn't take long for her to realize that her mother couldn't be in there either. She sighed as she turned around, standing in the silence of the hallway. They'd gone out without her again... She hung her head as she turned back to her bedroom, but her ears perked up when she finally heard something coming from the bathroom further down the hall.

"Mama!" She exclaimed with relief as she ran towards the sound of a tap dripping. "It's bedtime!" She hollered as she leapt into the bathroom, but the sight that she was faced with stopped her dead in her tracks. "Careful, mama, that's sharp!" She yanked out the needle that was imbedded in her mother's arm from where she was laying in the empty bathtub, slumped over the side, and threw it into the sink. "Mama?" Her voice began to shake again. Usually her mother had some kind of response when she took the needles away... She felt her heart sink as her terrified green eyes travelled up the blackened veins of her mother's arm, to where the foam had dried around her mouth.

She felt her tiny body become paralyzed with fear for what she only wished was the first time in her life. She knew that her mother was dead, and she knew that it was because of him, but the widening pit in her stomach was telling enough for even a young child to know that though this happened because of him, it was her lies—her covering for him, that had made it possible, and soon everybody would know it.

"Daddy..." She choked out as her eyes began to well up, unable to look away from the heinous result of her lies.

"I'm right here, baby." Tig smirked from behind closed eyes as Sydney mumbled against his chest, but he quickly realized through his sleepy haze as her chest heaved against his, that she wasn't awake.

Sydney finally worked up the courage to turn away from her mother's lifeless body, running through the dark house in search of the phone until she finally found it on the kitchen counter, just out of her reach... She let loose a sob as she desperately jumped to reach her lifeline, stomping her foot when it proved to be no use, but she suddenly felt her feet gluing themselves to the ground when she turned to find a chair to stand on, and instead came face to face with him.

He said nothing as he stared at her with those beady, predatory eyes that affixed themselves to her like the helpless prey that she was—just as they had every day since he'd come into her life. He got to his knees slowly, looking between her and the phone as a sinister smile spread across his face, and his hand reached out to touch her cheek. She shook her head as he got closer, feeling the tears pouring from her eyes as she silently begged him not to touch her, but the hairs on the back of her neck standing up told her that her prayers were not going to be answered tonight.

"No!" Sydney screamed, her eyes flying wide open when she finally his hand make contact with her skin, only it didn't go away when she woke up. She was back in her bed, but there was still a hand on her face.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, it's me!" Tig tried to bring her back to reality as she thrashed against his gentle touch. "Baby, it's me!" He pulled his hands off of her, holding them up as he waited for her to stop fighting long enough to realize that it had just been a bad dream.

Sydney blinked rapidly as she tried to catch her breath, frantically feeling around her as she realized that it was Tig who had been touching her. But she didn't feel comfort when she looked into the safety of his blue eyes, instead she felt every single emotion except comfort, all hitting her at once and pushing a waterfall of tears out of her eyes, along with a barrage of sobs from her chest. "I—" She choked out, but she couldn't find the words as embarrassment enveloped any possible coherent thought.

Tig shook his head as soon as she began trying to explain herself, pulling her into his arms where she immediately clung to him tighter than ever before as she cried into his shoulder. "It's okay, baby. It's okay... You're safe." He rocked her back and forth, rubbing her back until he was confident that she believed it.

Sydney felt the panic leaving her body by the second as his warmth grounded her, but as the panic escaped, the humiliation took over. "I'm sorry," she pulled away after working up enough strength to get the words out clearly, angrily wiping at her eyes as she got to her feet, which immediately carried her out of his shameful presence. She hadn't had a nightmare that bad in years, and all it did was remind her that the one person who had always chased them away for her, was gone.

Tig let her go, grimacing as he listened to her practically run down the stairs and through the house until he heard the patio door open, breathing a sigh of relief. He knew the throes of nightmares all too well, and he hoped that the fresh air would help calm exactly how he knew she was feeling; scared, upset, traumatized, shocked, embarrassed—because it was exactly how he'd felt after his nightmare just a few short weeks ago.

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Donna sat in the cold family room of what she knew to be a government safehouse, her knees bouncing anxiously as she listened to the eerie silence in the middle of the night while her kids slept on the floor by her feet. She shivered as she looked around for what had to be the hundredth time since they'd been brought to the highly secure building, the bright lights straining her bloodshot eyes. She had no idea what the hell was going on, but she knew that it was because of Opie—because of the club. It always was...

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Tig sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the white carpet in the dark room before he decided that he'd given Sydney enough time to shake off the initial shock, getting to his feet and heading downstairs where he filled a glass with water, and grabbed a blanket from the couch.

Sydney stared ahead into the night that enveloped the rolling hills just beyond her backyard, sitting cross-legged on her new outdoor couch as loose tears trickled down her face, a numbness spreading through her body that stopped her from getting startled when the porch light turned on behind her. "Can you turn that off, please?" She asked flatly—almost impatiently, not bothering to turn around.

"You wanna sit out in the dark?" Tig asked with a scowl on his face, and one foot out the door.

"I'm not scared of the dark anymore..." Her voice was hollow as her unfocused gaze remained fixed on the abyss.

Tig blinked a few times, turning slowly back towards the light switch where he gave her a chance to change her mind, but of course she didn't, letting his hand fall against it before the backyard went black. "You know, I didn't think this was what you meant when you said you wanted me to help remind you why you bought this fancy table." He joked as he approached, setting the glass of water down onto the table as he draped the blanket over her shoulders.

Sydney felt a small smile come to her face as she looked up at him, clutching the blanket to her chest gratefully after enduring the cool night air in nothing but a cropped tanktop and tiny pair of shorts, while coated in a thick layer of sweat.

Tig was glad to see her smile, even if it had been practically microscopic. He slowly at down next to her, gently brushing his hand against her knee to be sure that she wasn't still jumpy. "You okay?" He asked softly after a few moments of silence, let his comforting touch linger.

She nodded, leaning in closer to him where he was happy to take the hint; immediately wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to lay down in his lap, rubbing his hands up and down her goosebump-covered arms and legs.

Sydney felt her eyes well up again as the warmth of his touch engulfed her, letting the tears fall silently as the sound of her soft sniffling mingled with the crickets in the night air surrounding them.

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Opie tapped his booted foot against the bleach-stained tiles of the empty interview room, the hollow echoing only adding to the torture as the hum of the obnoxious fluorescent lights seared into his brain. This was a place that he'd never wanted to find himself in ever again...

His ears perked up at the sound of something other than his own anxious manifestations; the door finally opening after what felt like hours in the cold room, in the middle of the night. "Where's my family?" He demanded the second that Stahl came into view.

"Down the hall," she told him calmly. "My people packed a few of their things, so they're very comfortable," she nodded, her lips flattening into a straight line. "Justice uses this facility to transition informants into witness protection, so it's—"

"What the—" Informants? Opie shook his head, wondering just how much sleep was still clouding his mind. "Are you charging me?"

"No." She shrugged easily.

"Then you gotta cut me loose?"

"You need to stay here for your own safety, Opie." She narrowed her evil blue eyes, not bothering to coat her words in persuasion, because soon enough, they would be the truth.

"For my own safety," he scoffed.

"Yeah," she blinked. "You see, we have an eyewitness who saw two men gun down Brenan Hefner..." Hale watched through the two-way mirror as Opie's eyes shifted downwards, attempting to keep his composure. "Bobby Munson was positively identified. Your ID could take a little court time, but it'll happen."

Opie shook his head slowly, pushing all of the panic into the back of his brain. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He smiled smugly.

Stahl stared him down for a few seconds, testing the confidence of his denial before she pulled out his composite sketch. "You see, she didn't get the eyes or the nose quite right…" She placed the uncanny drawing down onto the table in front of him, watching him clam up the second that he realized that there was real evidence.

"I want my lawyer." He demanded as his body went rigid. Hale smirked. They had done it... They had actually done it.

"I'm sure that SAMCRO will quickly find out that you and your family are gone," she ignored him. "And lots of your neighbours saw you get into our big, comfortable, black sedan. No cuffs," she mused. "And what with all of the inconvenience, I figured that the least I could do was, uh, pay off some of those big bills of yours..."

Opie felt his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach as she placed another piece of paper in front of him, his panicked brown eyes darting over the bank statements where he saw thousands of dollars worth of federal wire transfers into his bank account. "You crazy bitch…" He looked up at her battered face. "You're setting me up as the rat!"

"Unfortunately," she took a seat, propping her elbow up on the table and leaning on her hand. "That's how it's gonna play out, yeah."

Hale felt his forehead contorting one premature wrinkle at a time as the conversation unfolded. Set up? Rat? "What the hell is she doing?" He turned towards the other agents in the room with him, but he got no answer from the fellow lawmen who wanted nothing more than to finally take down the club—no matter how they did it.

"They'll know I wasn't the witness." Opie shook his head.

"Mmm, eventually," Stahl nodded, her lips pursing once again. "But, you see, the U.S. Attorney won't release the identity of the witness until pre-trial, and that could take weeks. I can only hold you for forty-eight hours," she shrugged smugly now. "What is going to happen when I put you and your family back into Charming? Hmm?"

"I tell the club the truth." He stared her down harshly.

"And maybe they believe you," she shrugged. "But… Maybe they don't. Are you really willing to risk the life of your family, on the love that Clay Morrow has for you?"

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"I hate that he still scares me…" Tig heard the faint whisper from where Sydney had been silently laid across his lap for the last half hour. He nodded slowly, stroking her hair as he tried to piece together the little information that he'd gathered about her dream.

"Does, uh… Does he show up a lot?" His brows knit. She'd mentioned in the past that nightmares were normal for her, but the severity of her reaction didn't seem like something routine.

"No."

"Good," he nodded. "Any idea what caused it?" He knew that the invasive question was a risk; but it was a risk that he was willing to take if it meant that he could help prevent this from happening again in the future.

Sydney felt the panic in her chest building again. She knew exactly what had caused it, and her inability to answer the question was exactly what would keep causing it.

Tig felt her tense under his gentle touch, listening to the squeaking coming from her locking throat as she tried to come up with an answer. "One of those things that we can't tell each other?" He answered for her, saving her the unnecessary guilt.

She nodded as she felt her eyes welling up, squeezing his knee gratefully. She took a deep breath, pushing down all of the emotion that crawled up her neck as she sat back up, reaching for the glass of water that she hoped would drown it out for good. "Can we go back to bed?" She asked meekly once she was confident that she could keep the liquid down, staring into the empty glass in her shaky hands as she refused to make eye contact.

Tig couldn't help but feel the sting in his heart when she wouldn't look at him, hating that he had taken part in scaring her just as she'd thought she'd done to him after his own nightmare. "Yeah," he nodded, getting to his feet slowly. At least she felt like she could sleep again; something that his nightmares usually kept him from being able to do.

Sydney ambled slowly through the dark house with her vision still blurry, and her eyes still heavy from the tears, clutching the silky brown blanket around her as Tig guided her towards the stairs with a hand on the small of her back.

"Wait," Tig heard, feeling her pull away from him. His brow creased, watching as she leant down towards the crystal bowl that sat on the short table by the door. "Baby, no…" He started shaking his head as she reached for her keys, but his scowl deepened when instead, she picked up a rosary.

Sydney ignored him as she clutched the red beads that Cameron had given her, the holy pendant giving her enough courage to return to the scene of the crime; rounding the bed to her side and wrapping the necklace around the iron post as she continued to avoid what she knew would be a judgmental gaze from Tig. Soldiers needed guardian angels, too.

Tig stood at the foot of the bed, watching as she hung the rosary next to where she slept in an attempt to ward off the nightmares. He felt his hand instinctively creep up his chest to the holy pendant of his own that hung from the chunky silver chain, his heart constricting as he ran his fingers over the smooth gold that had once brought her so much comfort—that he had selfishly allowed her to give to him.

"Hey," Sydney heard from behind her, the initial tense of her muscles fading as she recognized a softness in his tone. She turned around to face him, but she didn't meet his eyes, staring straight ahead at his chest instead where he grabbed her hand and closed it around her old locket, feeling the calmness spread through her body as he rested his forehead against hers. "I think you should take it back..."

Sydney slowly shook her head against his. "It's always close." She nodded, releasing the necklace and flattening her palm against, pressing it into his chest.

"Did you see him?" He whispered as he held her close. If she was going to try and go back to sleep, she needed to let go of what she had seen.

"No," she ground her teeth angrily as the tender moment was suddenly flooded with darkness. "I can see all of the men that I've killed, but I can't see the one that was taken from me." Her breathing became labored as she felt her throat locking up again.

"You'll see him one day… I promise." Tig nodded, pulling her against his chest where he rested his chin on the top of her head. He'd gone over a decade without seeing Juliet until the day that they'd gone to Santa Cruz; she would see her dad again.

She nodded against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist as his hung over her shoulders. He knew that now was as good of a time as ever to finally break down that wall and tell her about his own dream; his own past, but he just couldn't...

"Come with me." He pulled away, nodding to the bathroom. "I wanna make sure you didn't hurt yourself." His fingers brushed over the tensor bandage that had loosened during her less than peaceful sleep.

Sydney nodded feebly, letting the blanket slide off of her body as she decided to accept whatever help she could while there would be no discomfort; the only things that she could feel right now were mental.

Tig squeezed her hand lightly, leading her into the bathroom where he lifted her up onto the counter. He carefully unhooked the silver clip that was barely holding the scratchy material together, slowly unravelling it until eventually it hit the floor.

"It looks good," he nodded to the stitch-free wound that he was finally able to see. "Does it hurt?" He turned her leg slightly, examining the damage to see if any disruption had come from the nightmare.

Sydney shrugged. She wouldn't have been able to know what the difference was regardless of if there had been one present, or not. All she could feel in her mangled thigh was a blissful numbness that she only wished she could transfer to her mind. But maybe could...

"That's good." Tig nodded, reaching for a folded face cloth by the sink, dowsing it in cold water before pressing it to her healing wound. Sydney jolted when the material made contact, clutching the end of the sink with one hand, and his elbow with the other as goosebumps broke out across her skin, and a shiver rolled down her spine. "You see why I wanted you to wear sweatpants to bed?" He chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah," she groaned with a small smile, rolling her eyes playfully.

Tig frowned as he watched her gaze return to her lap almost instantly, telling him that it was going to take more than a short dose of reality, and little light-hearted teasing to help her forget about what she had seen, and he knew just how to do that.

"Stay here," he told her once he was finished refastening the bandage, pressing his lips to her forehead before pulling away. He stalked out of the room before she had times to ask any questions, speeding down the stairs where he filled a cup with ice, returning to the bedroom where he found his kutte lying by the nightstand on his side of the bed, fishing his pack of smokes out of the pocket along with his silver lighter before making his way back into the bathroom.

"What're you doing?" Sydney murmured as he set the supplies down onto the counter next to her, looking up into his eyes properly for the first time since she'd woken up to them.

"I'm gonna put you to bed." He explained simply as his skilled hands found the hem of her black top, and pulled it up over her head.

Sydney cringed harshly as the poorly timed words left his mouth, hating that even the heavenly sound of his smoky, authoritative, caring voice couldn't make her like them after what she had just been forced to relive.

Tig knew he'd struck some kind of chord when she recoiled, crossing her arms in front of her exposed chest as she pulled her eyes away from him, once again. He winced as he began to curse himself, listening to the faint voices in the back of his mind that only got louder by the second, but he shook them away. Now was not the time for that.

"I'm gonna help you get to sleep." He rephrased, gently placing his hand on her arm as he pulled a joint out of his cigarette pack, and brought it to her lips—successfully coaxing her eyes back up to his.

Sydney felt her rigid body relaxing as she looked into his eyes where the safeness had returned, dropping her arms. She nodded slowly, parting her lips where he placed the joint between them and lit the end, reaching for her waistband as she inhaled.

Tig was relieved when her body reacted favorably this time as she leveraged herself against the edge of the counter and lifted her hips up towards him so that he could slide her shorts down. He tossed them aside once she was free of them, turning back to see her holding the joint up to him as she held the smoke in her lungs.

"Uh-uh," he hummed with a curt shake of his head. "You enjoy that," he reached for the glass, tipping an ice cube into his mouth. "While I enjoy you." He dove down to her neck where his cold tongue made contact with her hot skin, the instantly melting ice trickling down her chest.

Sydney threw her head back and moaned as the smoke involuntarily expelled from her lips, not at all having expectedthat—or for it to feel as good as it did. She took a shaky breath as her knees locked around his hips, shivering as the slow stream of cold water travelled down towards her nipple.

Tig pulled away, satisfied as he felt her writhing against the marble. "Good?" He asked as he guided her hand back towards her mouth where she wrapped her lips around the joint obediently.

"Mhmm—" She began to nod with her eyes closed as she inhaled the marijuana, but she was cut off by her eyes flying open when his cold lips wrapped around her nipple. She coughed as the smoke flooded her mouth prematurely, squeezing her legs around him tighter as he gripped her waist to keep her in place.

Tig pulled away with a smirk as she composed herself, leaning in as his hand circled around to her back where he pulled her flush against him. "That's good, baby." He nodded as she quivered below him, staring directly at him with her green eyes full of the only type of distress he wanted to see her in. He plucked the smoking joint from her fingers, bringing it to his lips where he took a drag before leaning closer to her mouth, blowing the smoke into her parted lips. Sydney felt her eyes roll back, whimpering as the icy hot sensation rolled across her tongue before she grabbed his face, and pulled him to her lips.

Tig felt his chest filling with pride as she devoured his mouth. This was the perfect combination to help her forget every awful feeling she'd had just minutes ago; the ice would shock her back into reality, the marijuana would clear her mind, and the orgasm would relax her muscles.

He pulled away, guiding her to lean back against the mirror as he pulled her hips as close to the edge of the counter as possible, tipping another ice cube into his mouth where he held it between his lips and dragged it across her skin, feeling her trembling until he finally reached her belly button where he let it rest.

The feeling only intensified as Tig descended her body, the sensation growing with each puff that she took off the joint, a long whine leaving her lips as the melting ice pushed a steady stream down her stomach, and between her legs.

Tig dragged his chilled mouth all around her thighs and hips, his kisses getting hotter and hotter as his tongue thawed against the warmth of her skin. He waited until the ice cube was fully melted, nipping at her sensitive skin one last time before he spread her legs open.

Sydney squealed when his mouth wrapped around her clit, providing the perfect contrast to the cold water that had coated it. She felt her entire body go rigid before relaxing almost instantly, smiling as she let her eyes fall closed, bringing the joint to her lips once again where she inhaled deeply. Yes, he would definitely be putting her to bed.

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"What if this rat trap backfires?" Hale asked cautiously from the desk chair that he'd resigned himself to as he contemplated what Stahl's plan really meant. "Clay will kill this poor guy..." He nodded to where Opie was sitting behind the two-way mirror.

"Poor guy?" Stahl looked at him incredulously. "This scumbag just killed a state official. He spent five years in prison for arson. He is not a 'poor guy'." She sneered. Maybe she'd been right in worrying about his loyalty, after all…

"Look… I get it. Okay?" He lowered his voice. "They hurt you, you're pissed off…"

"Oh, please!" She shot out of her seat. "Save it, okay? Save it! This is not personal, alright?" She lied. "I can take a few knocks! My god, it's part of my job! But you know what? If you can't detach yourself from your history with these shitheads, well then maybe you better shuffle on back to—"

"Hey!" Hale clenched his jaw as he flew out of his seat, as well. "I know these guys! What you are doing, and how you are doing it? It is wrong. And someone's going to get hurt." That was the simplest way that he could put it. It wasn't that he didn't want to take SAMCRO down for the crime that they flooded his hometown with, it was that he was still able to see the kids that he had grown up with, and they didn't deserve to die.

Stahl stayed quiet as she chose her next words very carefully, realizing that she had said far too much to the Deputy that she now really wasn't sure she could trust. "I'm sorry. Okay? I'm—" She relaxed her body, letting down the physical guard that she'd stupidly allowed herself to put up in the moment. "I'm sorry that I snapped at you. It's been a tough couple of days, and I just—" Her eyes squeezed shut once she saw him nodding his understanding. Bingo. "You're right," she exhaled, placing her hands on his chest. "I appreciate your concern, David..." She looked deep into his blue eyes; the blue eyes that were far too easy to deceive. And if she could do it, anyone could.

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"I'll be right there." Sydney told Tig with a soft smile from where she stood at the bathroom sink, looking into the mirror as she tied the drawstring on her grey sweatpants.

"Okay." Tig nodded, closing the door softly behind him before he made his way across the room where he turned on the TV, flipping through the channels as he tried to find something that she could fall asleep to.

As soon as Sydney heard his footsteps lead away from the door, she yanked the top drawer open, digging through the mess of hair ties, clips, brushes, and combs until she reached the very back, pulling out the orange pill bottle.

She chewed the inside of her lip as she rolled the smooth plastic between her hands, anxiously tapping her foot against the tiles as her eyes fell closed in contemplation, but the second that she was back in the darkness, his face as all that she could see. Her eyes snapped open, blinking rapidly as she dumped two of the white pills out into her palm, reaching for the glass of melted ice to wash them down. She knew that it was far more than she needed, but she didn't want to leave any room for doubt that she wasn't medicated enough to ensure that she wouldn't be seeing him again tonight.

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Song for this chapter

Under Your Scars - Godsmack