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

CHAPTER 93: FEAR THE REAPER

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Jax sat in the empty chapel, sucking harshly on the roach between his lips in an attempt to calm the anxiety building in his chest as he waited to confront Clay. He played it over and over in his mind; each scenario, each likely result - trying to figure out the best way to get the result that he wanted; the result that he knew was nearly impossible now that he knew the truth.

But his time to try and find the right way to approach the very wrong issue was cut short when he felt his heart skip behind his kutte, looking up to the wooden doors where the heavy footsteps stopped before it swung open.

"You lookin for me?" Clay asked with a casual raise of his brow, making his way over to his seat at the head of the table before he could even answer.

Jax said nothing, stamping out the charred remains of the marijuana cigarette that had begun to burn his fingers before setting the ashtray aside, almost forgetting by the nonchalance of his President's actions that this conversation would be the determining factor of both of their fates. He turned to face him, clasping his hands together over the reaper on the table as he stared in the eyes of the one person that he was supposed to be able to trust with his life - with the lives of his brothers, of his mother.

"Two days ago, you sat there…" He began, realizing that none of the words making their way out of his mouth were ones that he'd rehearsed. "And you made me a promise - told me that Opie was safe… Now I'm asking you - brother to brother, father to son… Just tell me the truth, and I'll accept it." He only continued to surprise himself with the more that he spoke; the way that he didn't out Sydney, the way that he didn't tell him that he was a lying, conniving, evil piece of shit who had no right to sit at the head of that table; to lead this club - his father's club. Maybe it was because deep down, underneath all of the vendettas, the ties of brotherhood, and the personal nature of the betrayal - he understood why he'd done it. It didn't mean that the sin didn't need answering for - but maybe keeping it a secret really was what was best for the club. "Just be honest with me." He pleaded with a nod.

Clay felt his face falling deeper and deeper into a scowl as he listened to the level-headed words that almost fooled him - that would've fooled him had Gemma not shared her worries with him just twenty minutes ago. But he knew better than to confide in a conflicted man on the best of days - let alone a conflicted man that had been tainted by the softness of John Teller.

Jax felt tears pricking behind his eyes as his stepfather stared at him long and hard, giving him the exact answer that he so badly wished he hadn't expected. "Did you try to kill Opie? Kill Donna by mistake?" He needed to hear it out loud - to be given some kind of justification to help him get right with this.

Clay sighed, shaking his head slowly before fixing his gaze back on Jax. "I don't know who's been filling your head with this shit, son… I'm gonna tell you again - I love Opie. Loved Donna. I'd never do nothin to hurt em."

Jax felt his jaws clenching tighter and tighter with each indifferent word that hit his ears, finally letting up before his teeth could crack as he fell against the back of his chair in frustration. He was trying to give him an out - to find some kind of middle ground, but the asshole couldn't even swallow his pride long enough for that. He didn't give a shit about the club, he gave a shit about himself.

Clay stayed frozen in his disdainful position as he watched an unconvinced Jax wordlessly get up out of his seat and head towards the door. "This is a rough time for SAMCRO…" He grasped at the last straw that he could make himself reach for. "But we better put this shit behind us - suspicion, resentment? That kind of shit eats up morale - fractures a charter." He told him pointedly.

"So does the death of one of our own." Jax nodded slowly as he stared daggers through his lies. This had been his only chance - a chance that he hadn't even planned on giving - and he'd still failed.

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Sydney had returned to the clubhouse after her short trip to the station house, finally having gotten herself changed and down the hallway where she hoped that carrying out whatever tasks Gemma needed of her would busy her mind until the next inevitable roadblock appeared.

"You know where Tig is?" She snapped her head up at the sound of Tig's name, her darting eyes landing on Jax as he emerged from the chapel.

"Yeah…" Juice said nervously, wringing his hands where he sat at the tall table on his laptop. "He's on his way to the safehouse…"

"What's the matter?" Jax scowled.

Juice gulped, sucking in a breath filled with regret as he closed the lid to the computer that had been playing the ATF press conference. "The info on that witness just came out…" He shook his head sorrowfully. "She's a seventeen year old girl, Jax…"

Jax's head hung and his eyes fell shut. "Holy shit…" He shook his head before looking back at Clay who stood in the doorway with that same sour expression of apathy. "Where are they?" He glared at the bald man who hesitated before handing him the paper with the address from Oswald.

"What are you doin?" Clay asked worriedly as he watched his second worst nightmare coming to life before his eyes. "Jax." He tried to stop him as he stormed out of the clubhouse. "Where the hell are you goin?"

Jax ignored the desperate protests of his deranged President. He hadn't been able to stop the first innocent woman from dying at the hands of the club - but he could stop this one.

"Jax!" Clay yelled once more, watching as the blonde man slammed the door behind him, leaving him with nothing but the eyes of the "FEAR THE REAPER" logo to stare back at him.

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Tig felt his grip getting tighter on the arm of the Sheriff with the more that he struggled - feeling the anger being channeled through the tips of his fingers when yet another person tried to stop him from doing his job. He threw the bound and gagged man down into the trunk of the squad car, landing him harshly on top of his equally squirmy partner.

Happy scowled as the first man continued his moaning, slamming his fist into the side of his head without a second thought - a grin coming to his face when the incessant grunting finally stopped. "Let's do this." He nodded eagerly to his masked partners as he slammed the trunk closed.

"Go, go, go." Tig nodded, shoving Chibs and Happy away from him as he planted the Sheriff's walkie talkie on the chair next to the door where he hid on one side and they hid on the other - not having to wait long for the slender blonde ATF Agent to emerge after hearing the car door.

"Wesley?" She called, trying to get a good look out the screen door before she realized that she would be forced to pull it open in the dim light. She scowled when the first thing that her eyes landed on was the walkie talkie on top of the empty chair - walking over where she picked up it before continuing her visual perimeter sweep. "Sheriff Lane, do you copy-" But she was cut off by the feeling of a hand over her mouth, yanking her into the house.

"Give me your gun." Tig growled as he restrained the small woman, pulling her hands behind her back as Happy removed the weapon from her holster before punching her in the stomach where she fell to the ground with a grunt. "Take her." Tig nodded to Chibs who dragged her down the hallway and into a back room with his arm around her neck.

He and Happy stood silently, listening for any sounds of their witness trying to escape before Chibs re-emerged after successfully tying up their last obstacle - nodding down the hallway on the other side of the living room where they knew that their guy would be hiding like the coward that he was.

Chibs took the lead, tiptoeing down the hall where he stopped in front of a curtain being used as a makeshift door, watching as Tig and Happy took their respective stances in front of the only other remaining rooms - holding up his hand as he silently counted down from three before they all bursted into their rooms. But he felt his heart sink when his eyes landed on the little girl with dark skin and curly black hair - a blinding resemblance to his own daughter - curled up in a ball in the corner of the room, clutching a pillow to her chest as tears streamed down her face. "Jesus christ…" He shook his head, throwing the curtain open as he waited for Tig and Happy to see what it was that they were really up against. "That out witness?" He sighed as he looked back at his crew

Tig said nothing as his head slowly swiveled from the terrified girl in front of him, to the conflicted man beside him. This was the last fucking thing that he needed right now.

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Tara dragged the soles of her black boots across the pavement after what would be her last shift at hospital - an obnoxious sound that was foreign in comparison to the soft, calming pitter-patter that her white tennis shoes usually made on her walk to the car where she stored them in the trunk, but she wouldn't be needing to do that anymore. She sighed, looking back at the white building with a sad smile. It made sense, she supposed - that the first place in which she had known life would be the place that would breathe life back into her. She had shared more memories beyond those walls in a few short months than she had shared anywhere else in her entire life - far more than she'd ever would've imagined when she'd first come back to Charming. She'd experienced every emotion possible - success, failure, exhaustion, triumph, tears, heartbreak, but most of all: love.

Before she knew it, she found herself in the driver's seat of her father's car, cruising down Main Street without a single conscious clue as to where she was going - letting her heart guide her.

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Tig sat on the edge of the bed as Chibs finished taping the wrists of the young girl while she sobbed through the jacket that they had wrapped around her head so that she wouldn't see their faces. He looked over at the Scot with a sigh, letting his eyes fall closed as the equally weary man's face came into view - telling himself over and over that killing the right girl was better than killing the wrong woman.

Happy stood in the doorway, looking between his two clearly conflicted brothers whom he knew had teenage daughters of their own. "I can do this, bro." He offered with a nod.

Tig contemplated the offer for a second, but he knew that he couldn't accept it. He needed to do this. "It's me." He shook his head, getting to his feet where he yanked the girl off of the ground and shuffled her out of the room, down the hallway, and into a kitchen chair where he tilted her covered head back. Didn't have to see her face.

"I'm sorry…" He told her genuinely, reveling in even the slightest bit of restitution that he felt as he was given the chance to apologize this time. "I'm really sorry, kid…" He nodded, letting the second burst of minuscule relief fuel him as he lifted his gun to her head - preparing to say it one last time so that he would be able to pull the trigger, but the sound of the back door being thrown open broke his focus. "Jesus." He sighed, lowering the gun that he'd instinctively pointed in the direction of the unexpected disturbance when his eyes landed on Jax. "You scared the shit out of me, man."

"Put down the gun." Jax sneered, not slowing his angry strides as he walked up on the inhumane, sorry excuse for a man in front of him.

"What?" Tig scowled.

"We don't kill women…" He seethed with a pointed glance, watching the confusion come to the faces of Chibs and Happy.

"What are you doing here, brother?" Chibs hollered impatiently. If they were going to do this, they needed to do this fast.

Tig shook his head as he stared at Jax who he knew had somehow found out the truth, but it was a truth that he would never be able to prove. He scoffed, cocking his gun and putting it back to her cloth-covered forehead. No mistakes.

"Put it down." Jax growled as he pressed the barrel of his own gun against Tig's head.

"What the hell is this?" Happy scowled in immense confusion - he had been away from the charter for far too long.

"You think you got the balls to do that?" Tig challenged, not moving under the iron pressed against his skull.

"I will put a bullet through your temple." Jax cocked his gun as his voice shook with an anger strong enough that had him thinking that he might actually be able to pull the trigger.

"Not if I put one through yours first." A raspy voice came from behind him as the sound of a second gun cocking filled the silence that had overtaken the impossibly tense atmosphere.

Jax's eyes fell closed and he exhaled sharply as he felt the cold metal round the back of his head and eventually land against his own temple, biting the inside of his cheek as Sydney came into view - staring at him down the golden barrel with that hardened green gaze.

Tig's heart sank when he heard Sydney's voice, his eyes falling closed as he made his final decision. "Alright." He lowered the gun. Even if he knew that Jax couldn't pull the trigger, he knew that she could - and he wasn't going to let his actions jeopardize her future any more than they already had.

"You two." Jax lowered his gun and looked to Chibs and Happy. "Get out of here." He was making his final decision too.

"This wasn't the plan." Happy growled.

"Get out!" Sydney yelled, finally lowering her gun as she locked eyes with her old friend for the first time in weeks. She knew by the second that the command came out of Jax's mouth that he'd come to some kind of understanding about what had happened, and what happened next was crucial.

"You think this through." Chibs told Jax warningly.

"Go home. Now." He told them one last time. This wasn't a conversation that he could have falling on the wrong ears.

Tig's head turned slowly towards Jax as Chibs and Happy filed out, watching as the irate man dropped to his knees before the girl - ripping the duct tape off of her thin wrists and yanking the garment off of her head.

"Do you see this guy?" He grabbed her face, forcing her terrified gaze towards Tig who stood above them with his jaw set harshly. "He's a bad guy, and he wants you dead. You know why?" He cocked his head menacingly as she nodded rapidly, desperately - knowing that he needed to do this just right if he wanted to be able to get Opie clear while still sending a message to the savages that he had to sit at the table with. "Because you're going to rat on two of his friends!" He screamed in her face, holding her by the back of her neck so that she couldn't pull away. "So you can't do that. Cause he will find you, no matter where you are. And next time, I won't be there to save your life. You understand?"

"Yeah." She choked out through her shallow breaths and heaving chest.

"The feds, the cops, nobody can protect you - that's obvious. So if you testify, you will die."

"I won't! I promise. I won't."

Jax stared at her for a few seconds before he decided that he'd succeeded - pulling her up from the ground and digging his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans. "You get a train, you get a bus, you steal a goddamn car. I don't give a shit." He instructed as he thumbed through the stack of cash before shoving it into her chest and pushing her towards the door. "You get out of California tonight! Or you're dead!"

If Sydney had thought that this strategy was for anything other than teaching them a lesson, she genuinely would've been impressed by the soft-hearted VP's ability to strike a very real fear into the young girl trembling before them. She wasn't above killing women or children - if there was a good enough reason - but now would've been one of the few times that she wouldn't have minded doing things the infamous 'Jackson Teller' way and not spilling unnecessary blood.

Out of all of the things that Tig was feeling in that moment - betrayal, anger, fear, guilt, relief - there was one feeling that prevailed, the one thing that he had always been most familiar with: rage. "You just crossed a line, brother." A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest as a sinister smile spread across his face.

Jax scoffed, turning towards the stove where he set his gun down. "Not yet." He used one arm to shove Sydney out of the way as the other arm swung around with full force and hit Tig square in the nose, sending his neck flying back.

Tig recovered from the first blow quickly, snapping his neck back into place as Jax rammed his head into his stomach and used all of his might to push him across the kitchen and into the living room where he threw him into a side table. He fell to the floor, quickly recovering once again before the blonde man could get in another hit.

Jax lost his footing as Tig scrambled to his feet and out of his grasp where he shoved him into the armchair and slammed his fist into his forehead, slumping over his lap from the force that he'd put into the blow. But he recovered quickly too - taking advantage of the older man's exhaustion and pulling him into a headlock where he dragged him to his feet and made to slam him down onto the wooden coffee table.

Tig continued to chuckle as Jax pulled out all of the stops - the stops that he was far too familiar with after the life that he'd lived. He clutched the arm around his neck as he felt gravity taking its course, pulling Jax down onto the table with him where they tumbled off of the sturdy surface and landed onto the floor. He rolled over - once again using the VPs lack of experience to his advantage as he pressed his back into his chest to hold him down while repeatedly slamming his elbow into his ribs before he was satisfied that he'd winded him enough to make his escape.

Jax blinked through his blurry vision as he tried to catch his breath, vaguely making out the shape of Tig's navy blue clothed body - doing the first thing that he could think of by shoving his foot into it as hard as he could.

Tig was taken by surprise not only by the blow, but by the force of the blow as he was knocked off of his balance and landed on his side - shakily getting to his feet as Jax did the same across the small room.

"Yeah?" Jax maneuvered around the broken furniture, riding the high of the beating that he'd wanted to deliver to the sadistic asshole for years. "Come on." He probed.

"Bring it." Tig nodded as blood poured from his nose. He still had a whole lot more fight left in him - especially for the spoiled little prince.

It wasn't that he didn't feel that he deserved the beating - he knew that he'd more than earned it - but he knew that he wasn't getting it for the right reason. He wasn't getting it as punishment for his colossal fuck up - he was getting it because, as usual, Jax refused to look at what was best for the club.

Both men went to swing at the same time, locking arms where Jax took advantage of his clearer head and thought to jump behind Tig where he yanked his arm behind his back and managed to take him into a half-nelson - shoving his face against any hard surface that he could maneuver him into.

Sydney stood out of the way silently among the groans and grunts as the two men fought to what she could only wish was the death - because she knew that Tig would win. But she knew that it wouldn't come to that, and she felt an odd sense of peace in knowing that maybe this would help Tig work out some of the guilt - receiving the punishment that he so adamantly felt that he deserved while knowing that he didn't have to live a lie, or with the disappointment of botching yet another job.

Jax finally decided that Tig had enough, slamming him down against the kitchen table one more time for good measure - leaving the curly-haired man slumped over the wooden surface.

Tig panted as he lifted his head from where it had landed in the middle of a half-played game of Monopoly, pushing himself up to his feet where he wobbled, slumping over onto his side where his eyes landed on Sydney. He felt something shift beyond his chest - a break in the anger. He no longer felt the demonic rage as he stared upon that angelic face, but rather he felt a sense of duty to accept what he had brought on.

"Come on." He breathed out as he heaved himself up again before falling back against the table - facing Jax this time. "Come on." He begged. He needed to get this out - to take it like a man - because it would eat him alive if he didn't, and he couldn't do that to her again.

Jax's chest heaved as he worked up a hefty might, pulling his arm all the way back where he thrusted his fist into the unmoving face of the Sergeant with as much force as he could - satisfied with his final blow as he fell back onto the table and eventually rolled onto the ground where he knew to stay down this time.

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Piney sat in the living room of the cabin with a shotgun in one hand, and a glass of whiskey in the other - as he had almost every night since his best friend had died. He sighed as he pulled his feet down off of the rickety wooden table, pulling it closer to him where he pushed his oxygen tank aside and reached for the large green box.

He allowed a nostalgic smile to grace his almost permanently stoic face as he ran his fingers over the engraving on the clasp 'PIERMONT H. WINSTON'. He sighed as he lifted the lid of the old box, his fading eyesight glossing over the top two compartments which held various service weapons, badges, and trinkets that he'd been given when he had first enlisted. He let his eyes fall closed with a sorrowful nod as he slid them back to reveal the bottom section of the box full of tainted memories, grabbing a handful of silky nylon that he rubbed between his calloused fingers - finally opening them to see the American flag that he'd had the honor of receiving after John's funeral.

He gave a curt nod, remembering what his purpose was as he sucked in a breath and reached for the thick manilla folder that had been underneath the flag - pulling out the stack of papers along with the note that he had read hundreds of times over the last fifteen years.

To my oldest, dearest, and wisest friend.

What we started, you and I, was a good

thing, for a good reason. What we've

become is a different thing, for reasons

I no longer understand. I feel the angry

winds at my back and I'm not sure how

much time I have in the kutte I love so

much. This book is for all the things we

wanted. And for all the things we still can

be. I love you, brother.

J.T.

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Gemma scowled when she heard a knock at the door, but she was grateful for the distraction - whatever it was - from the awkwardness between her and Wendy as they sat in the dimly lit living room, taking turns wordlessly holding Abel. She slowly made her way to the door, knowing that she must've had a day if she didn't do as little as flinch when she peered into the peep hole and saw the familiar mousy brown hair.

"It's kinda late for a house call…" She commented much less pointedly than usual as she pulled the door open and stepped aside to let her in.

Tara had no idea what had come over her - driving to Jax's house, daring to enter when she knew that both Gemma and Wendy would be there, and now the unexpected smile that came to her face.

"I was on my way home from work." She explained easily, following Gemma into the living room. "Just thought I'd stop by and check in…" Her eyes trailed to where Wendy sat, curled up in the corner of the couch with her son. "I guess I miss him, you know?" She spoke earnestly to the two mothers.

"Yeah." Wendy nodded sincerely. "I do." Which she did - and it was a feeling that she was going to become reacquainted with when she left for Lincoln Village after the funeral.

Tara nodded, standing in place for a few seconds before she felt the same invisible force pushing her once again - making her way over next to Wendy where she tried to sit in silence but once again felt herself acting involuntarily. "How is he?" She choked out.

But she didn't hear the answer to her question as her eyes fell to the beautiful baby boy that she had grown to love so much. She knew in that moment what had brought her there; the voice in the back of her head that wouldn't let her leave without saying goodbye - that knew that this would change her mind. She couldn't leave - couldn't let the fear drive her away again. Not from this - not from the life that she'd always wanted.

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Tig sat silently as Sydney gently cleaned his wounds for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, wincing under the pain that no longer brought comfort to his much less clouded mind.

"I don't think anything's broken." She breathed out just above a whisper as she examined his nose, dropping the bloody cloth down onto the dining table before getting up out of his lap where she gathered up the medical supplies and brought them back to the bathroom.

Tig barely heard what she'd said as his ears began to ring through the mind-numbing exhaustion - blinking himself back awake to see that she was now sitting on the table in front of him.

"You need to sleep…" She tried to tell him gently.

"M'fine." He shook his head, blinking away the dizziness that followed immediately after.

"No." She took his hands in hers, bringing them to rest over her bare legs as she looked down into his bloodshot eyes where they struggled to focus. "You need to sleep." She repeated with a nod, placing something into his palm before closing his large hand around it.

Tig scowled as he opened his hand to reveal two large white pills - the only two large white pills that she had left. "You won't have nightmares on these…" She explained softly. She had only ever seen the sloth of a Sergeant turn down sleep for two things - club duties, and nightmares. And he had already taken on the former tonight.

"Don't you need em?" He looked up into her eyes for the first time since they'd gotten home - paying close attention to the faint bruising that he could still see around them.

"You need them more than I do." She shook her head. The last few days had been more than enough to make her completely forget that she'd ever needed them in the first place - and she could always get more.

Tig nodded, accepting the pills as he got to his feet and dragged himself over to the kitchen sink where yanked on the faucet handle, holding a glass under the steady stream until it was full enough that he could tip it back and wash them down.

Sydney gently slid herself off of the table where the soles of her feet made contact with the wooden floor, deciding that she was going to get a rug for the space - everything felt too cold. She moved around the house slowly, turning off all of the lights before she made her way back to the kitchen where Tig was leaning over the sink. She sighed sadly, taking a few tentative steps towards him before he got the hint and began walking towards the stairs.

Tig didn't bother with a shower when he got to the bedroom - he didn't even bother getting undressed, climbing onto the bed and kicking his boots off with his eyes closed where he vaguely listened for the two separate thuds to make sure that they at least made it onto the floor. But no matter how exhausted he was, no matter how short of a time it had been since he'd closed his eyes - he could already feel the overwhelming weight of his actions coming down on him.

He lifted his head from where he'd flopped down on top of the silky duvet, pulling himself to Sydney's side of the bed where she was stiffly sitting cross-legged. He laid his head in her lap, draping his arm across her tense legs and resting his hand on her knee where his thumb began rubbing circles into her skin - hoping that the familiar feeling would help ground both of them.

Sydney felt the breath that she had been holding escape her lips in a shaky sigh as she closed her eyes - focusing on nothing but the familiarity of the comforting feeling as she rested her hand on his head and began stroking his curls.

But even as Tig felt her begin to relax as she wove her fingers into his hair in a way that made his entire body tingle - he could still feel it; the darkness closing in. "Uh." He choked out as he blinked himself out of the haze of sleep yet again, coughing nervously as he approached a level of vulnerability that he had never reached with anyone before. "D'you think you could do somethin for me?"

"Anything." She nodded.

"Sing for me…" He forced out the virtuous request - praying that it would be enough to save them.

"Okay." She nodded, ignoring the bashful flush on her cheeks that on any other day would've had her smiling. "What do you wanna hear?"

"Anything. I just need to hear your voice until the pills kick in." He knew that he needed some kind of distraction until he could slip under the ignorant veil of painkillers that wasn't coming nearly fast enough without an alcoholic booster - but that was a coping mechanism that he was going to have to leave behind if he wanted this to work.

"Okay." She repeated softly as she searched her brain for the perfect song, closing her eyes once it finally came to her.

Tig allowed his eyes to slip closed once again as he focused on the feeling of her long nails on his scalp and her fingers in his hair until that same beautiful voice captivated his mind just as it had the day before while she strung the lyrics of the old Johnny Cash song together in a way that made them sound brand new. He instinctively reached for the chain around his neck as the hard hitting words went straight through his ears and into his heart, closing his hand around the gold pendant as a single tear slid down his cheek while the gentle lull drifted him off to sleep.

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Song for this chapter

I Walk The Line - Halsey