Jax and Tara went to bed over an hour ago, both trying to fall asleep, but neither is really able to for not-so-different reasons.

Tara is lying on her side, facing the wall, wishing herself to sleep, but her mind keeps going back to Jax's conversation with Maureen and him finally knowing the truth about Gemma, but also the news that Jax almost left Abel behind with strangers halfway around the world.

She is dying to know the whole truth, and isn't sure if she can find any rest tonight until Jax explains himself, but at the same time, she feels guilty for pressing him on this when she knows he is struggling with what he just found out about his mom.

Right beside her, Jax is lying flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling of the dark bedroom, wishing he could somehow turn off his mind from reliving every moment, every conversation he ever shared with his mom about his father's untimely death.

Everything has been a lie. Every tear that ever fell from Gemma's eyes in mourning as she portrayed the grieving widow. Every heartfelt speech she's given him about what a great man his father was. None of it was true, everything had been nothing but an act ... and it crushed him so deep down in his soul, that he couldn't fathom how to deal with it, what to do with it.

He knows that Tara is right, that nothing good can possibly come from him racing back south to Charming to confront her in person, because truth be told, he isn't just devastated, he is just about angry enough to strike his own mother, and that in itself scares him enough to know that he needs to stay away.

So now he is listless, again, just like he was last night after Tara's nightmare had woken him up. It seems lately, even away from Charming, all their problems and baggage have followed them home, followed them here, and continue to haunt them.

Tara catches his attention and he looks her way when she stirs in her sleep and turns around to face him instead. Even in the darkness of the room, he suddenly notices that her eyes are wide open too, searching his face just like he is searching hers.

"Can't sleep?" Jax is the first to speak, a whisper in the silence of the apartment.

"No," Tara replies tiredly. "You?" She watches curiously as Jax rolls onto his side now to lie face-to-face with her.

Jax shakes his head, "I keep thinking about Gemma and about the day my Dad died, and pretty much everything that happened since."

"That's a lot," Tara replies, and reaches out, gently brushing her fingers through his short beard. "Maybe it was a mistake that I told you." She says with a tinge of regret in her voice.

"No, it wasn't, Babe, I'm glad you did." Jax quickly answers, his eyes fixed on hers, "I actually wish you would've told me sooner."

"I know, baby. I'm sorry." Tara apologizes, even though she still feels bad having severed that last thread between him and his mother. As much as she hates Gemma, and doesn't want her in her or their sons' lives anymore, she also knows what it feels like having no one left, no parents left to love, and she hates to inflict such pain on Jax.

There is a long moment of silence that stretches out between them, and Tara pulls her pillow closer to Jax, moving closer to him, so she can continue to run her fingers through his beard more comfortably.

Jax reaches out too, taking her free hand in one of his, and runs the pad of his thumb across the still remaining small scabs on her knuckles first, before he continues to trace the small incision scars that traveled up her forearm.

The small scars have faded considerably over time, but you can still easily detect them in the different textures they've left on her skin. As he lets his fingertips glide over the slightly raised lines of her flesh, his mind once more goes back to who is to blame for all of this ... Clay, along with Gemma as the accomplice. There is simply no escaping that ugly truth tonight, he begrudgingly thought to himself.

Having stared into the darkness of the room for the better part of the last hour, his eyes have adjusted plenty and can easily take in the features of her face, right down to the horizontal lines on her forehead that indicate she's got something on her mind.

"What's going on with you? Why can't you sleep?" He dares to ask, but he's got a pretty good idea why she can't get any shut-eye tonight either. It is beginning to be a pattern lately.

"You know why." She answers cryptically, but she isn't lying, he knows what revelation from earlier tonight is still gnawing at her.

He hesitates for another long minute as her eyes bore into his, willing him to speak, which he finally does. "After Abel was taken, what happened with Ima, it was just to push you away, I thought you'd be safer away from me and the Club." Jax starts to explain, but Tara cuts him off.

"I know all that. We've talked about all of that hundreds of times already, Jax." She interjects, sounding impatient, "What I want to know is what the hell happened in Belfast. Why did you almost leave our son behind?"

Jax sighs, and stills the movement of his fingers on her arm, gripping her hand tightly in his hand instead. "Kellan Ashby, the priest JT mentioned in his letters, he put up Abel for some catholic adoption. The couple that adopted him had to stay in town for a couple more days, to make sure that it was a good fit and all. We got the address of the hotel they were staying at, and I went there to check it out, and found them there with Abel. I followed them around town for a while, watching them with him. They were just normal people, but you could just tell they were decent and good. And they were so happy to have him, it was written all over their faces."

Jax shakes his head and wipes at his eyes with his other hand, the emotions of that day come back to him so strongly. "I went to Belfast, because I thought Abel was in danger. I thought Cameron was going to hurt him for what happened to his own son. But when I saw Abel with that couple and the possible future he could have with someone like them ..." He looks back at Tara and meets her eyes in the darkness, "I'd already lost you, pushed you away to keep you safe, and I thought it was the right thing to do for Abel too. I thought he could grow up away from all the violence and death, away from me. So I left him there with them and went back to Maureen's place, to explain to Gemma what I had done, and why I did it. She was beside herself, of course, and she tried to reason with me. I think she just couldn't believe what was happening, she was furious. And that's when she asked me what I was going to tell my other son, should he wonder what happened to his big brother." Jax pauses, and Tara raises her hand up to her mouth to hold back the sob that is threatening to escape. "That's when she told me you were pregnant."

Jax can see the tears in her eyes welling up and rolling across the bridge of her nose and down her cheek, undoubtedly soaking into the pillow beneath her. He pulls her hand up to his lips and kisses it gently as his own tears escape from his eyes.

His voice is heavy with emotions when he continues to explain what happened next. "Then Kellan showed up, said that Jimmy would be going after Abel, to use him as leverage to get out of the country. We all rushed back to the hotel, but Abel was already gone, and the couple had been killed. Jimmy needed a hostage, so Kellan agreed to take Abel's place, and that's how we got him back." He concludes the story, and when Tara starts to cry out loud, Jax reaches for her and pulls her into his arms, kissing her forehead repeatedly, stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her, while he fights with his own emotions, trying to get his own tears to stop falling.

"We almost lost both of them?" Tara mumbles into his bare chest between sobs, and even though Jax heard her, he isn't entirely sure he understands. He pulls back, framing her face to force her to look at him, "What are you talking about?"

Tara's face contorts in pain and heartbreak, but she tries her best to get a grip and swallows the sob that threatens to escape from her lungs, and then she finally blurts out the ugly truth she's been keeping from him, "When Salazar grabbed me, I was on the way to an abortion clinic."

But to Tara's surprise, Jax looks neither hurt nor shocked by her revelation, instead, he looks almost guilty. He gently kisses her forehead once more, before he closes his eyes and leans in close enough that their noses touch, resting his face against hers. His lips are a mere inch from her lips when he practically exhales the words with his breath, "I know, Babe."

Now Tara opens her eyes, pulls back, and stares back at him with surprise as their eyes meet, and only asks, "How?" Gemma couldn't have told him, because she didn't know. Nobody knew besides Margaret.

Jax swallows the lump in his throat and replies, "After Salazar let Margaret go, she gave her statement to Eglee. Told her where you guys were headed when Salazar rear-ended you. Eglee told Tig. Tig told me."

Tara's heart begins to beat faster as the revelation that he's known this whole time begins to sink in. "I'm sorry." She says and searches his face and his eyes for any insight on what he is feeling or thinking of what she almost did to their beautiful baby boy.

And as if he can sense her uneasiness, he quickly speaks up. "You've got nothing to be sorry for, Babe. I'm the one who fucked everything up with us." Jax reassures her, his voice is soft as he runs a hand soothingly down her hair, and meets her eyes again, "The way I hurt you, tried to push you away. Not just with Ima, but with all the ugly shit I said ... the way I treated you, and said that we weren't your family."

He sighs, his eyes full of regret again, "I was such a fucking asshole to you, nobody would've blamed you ... you had every right to not want a kid with me." He sighs again after a long pause, "You could've still done it after I found you, but I'm so glad you kept him, 'cause I would've never been able to forgive myself for pushing you to that. You and those boys mean everything to me."

"I feel the same way," Tara replies earnestly, the tears falling freely once more while she lets Jax's words truly sink in over the next couple of silent minutes between them.

"I don't think I would've gone through with it either way." She hesitates for a minute as her moments in confinement with Salazar and his old lady come back to her like it was yesterday. She contemplates confiding this in him too, because she fears it might add more feelings of guilt to his already burdened conscience. But on second thought she knows Jax saw the bruises and bumps she sustained in Salazar's captivity, after all, they are the reason they went and got the ultrasound to ensure Thomas was alright. So she says what is on her mind, "When Salazar had me, he knocked me around, and at that moment all I really cared about was our baby, and I knew I wanted it, that I'd keep it no matter what happened with us." She sniffles at the thought, but is glad that the tears have finally stopped falling again, as she wipes their lingering wetness from her face.

That's when Jax leans in and kisses her on the lips, reveling in the feeling of her kissing him back after all this ugly truth has been revealed between them once again. He just can't stand another second pondering the past mistakes he made and wants to put it behind them tonight. And this is his way to do so. To hold her in his arms, and feel her arms around him. And to kiss her, and feel her lips parting for him in return.

She is too good for him in every way, he doesn't deserve her. He knows that he doesn't, but he would fight for her, fight to get her back until his dying breath.

X

Tara wakes up, rolls back to her side, and blindly reaches out for Jax to wrap her arms around him once more, when all her hands find are cold empty sheets and an empty pillow beside her.

She props herself up on her elbow, temporarily confused as she takes in the empty spot beside her and reaches for her phone on the nightstand to check the time. It is just past two in the morning, she realizes and in her sleepy mind begins to wonder why Jax isn't here. She reaches for the table lamp on her nightstand and flicks it on, and glances around the room, noticing his jeans and shirt he's flung over the small stool in front of her vanity table are gone, along with his phone and his keys he left on his nightstand the night before.

She quickly climbs out of bed, suddenly alarmed, cursing inwardly at how naive she's been to think that he'll take her advice and not confront Gemma in person. At this time of night, there would be hardly any traffic, which means he was probably more than halfway to Charming by now.

She feels so incredibly stupid to not have seen this coming after all. Christ, what is he going to do once he comes face to face with her, Tara wonders. The seriousness of the situation begins to really overcome her and nearly makes her break down in tears once more. Why would he do this to them, after everything they worked through and confided in each other? Why risk it all for some twisted sense of revenge?

If she is lucky, she thought, he'll have at least bothered enough to leave a note on the kitchen table for her. She can already picture it in her mind, some halfhearted explanation about honor, loyalty, and retribution, and the unwritten code of his beloved Club. The thought of it makes her sick to her stomach.

She rushes out of her room, expecting to find him long gone, but as soon as she sets foot out of her bedroom door, she can already see the glimmer of lights and shadows dancing down the hall, past the living room, emitting from the kitchen. And in that same instant as she sees the faint lighting, she also hears his voice, it's angry, dark, and gloomy, she can tell even from afar.

Her heart sinks in her chest for having doubted his word again. He told her he wouldn't leave, but she didn't believe him and jumped to conclusions at the first sign of doubt.

She hesitates now, embarrassed in her own unfound assumptions while she stands silently in the dark hallway, but eventually, curiosity overwhelms her and she quietly heads toward the kitchen, in search of him.

She can't help but wonder momentarily who he is talking to at this hour in the middle of the night, but figures it's most likely one of the guys, Chibs or Bobby to be exact. They are after all his closest confidants outside these walls.

The carpeted floor beneath her bare feet easily conceals the sound of her footsteps, even now in the quietness of the night. She doesn't intentionally sneak up on him, she is merely trying not to wake the boys, so it just sort of happens that way, but when she suddenly realizes who he is actually talking to, it stops her dead in her tracks, and has her holding her breath.

"There is no coming back from this, Mom. There's nothing you can say that'll convince me otherwise." Jax sounds angry, but Tara can tell he tries his best not to raise his voice too loudly, and she can only assume not to wake her and the kids.

There is a pause, as he obviously listens to Gemma, before he replies, "Look, I've got nothing left to say to you. I am done. We are done. Don't fucking call, don't write or send shit for the kids either. And don't you dare fucking show up here, or I'll make you regret it? Stay clear of my family." And with that, Jax hangs up the phone. The only clue is the thud she hears, when he tosses the cell angrily onto the wooden kitchen table.

Tara hesitates once more, contemplating whether to take a few steps and round the corner to talk to him, or retrieve back into the bedroom to wait until he returns. But she can't stand the thought of what he is going through, of how he tries to deal with it all by himself, calling his mother up in the middle of the night to put an end to their relationship once and for all.

So she gathers the courage she needs and steps into the kitchen. Jax sits at the table with his back toward the door, but when he senses someone behind him, he quickly turns his head and looks up at her standing there.

"Hey," Tara says, hesitating again, suddenly unsure if she made the right choice to confront him when she notices his red-rimmed eyes, leaving no doubt that the confrontation with his mother caused him to shed some tears again tonight.

"Hey," Jax replies, before he turns his head back toward the table. He reaches for his lighter and flips it repeatedly with just one hand, before he speaks, "You heard all that?"

"No." She replies honestly, "I just woke up, I only heard the last bit just now." She suddenly finds the nerve to step up closer behind him, and places an encouraging hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" It was a stupid question, she realized the moment the words left her lips. Of course, he isn't.

"Not really." He replies and blindly reaches up and covers her hand on his shoulder with his own, before he turns to look back at her once more, "Didn't mean to wake you, Babe."

"You didn't. I'm not really sure what woke me." She confesses and steps further around him, settling into the chair right beside him. She reaches up to his face, letting her fingers gently dance across his facial hair again, and Jax closes his eyes for a moment, and leans in against her touch, letting the palm of her hand rest against his cheek.

"I woke up and just realized you weren't there. I didn't like it." She adds truthfully, and despite it all, when he suddenly opens his eyes and stares back at her, she can see the momentary glimmer of hope flicker in them at the meaning of her words. But their little moment of intimacy ends rather abruptly right then and there, when Jax turns his head away from her, leaving her slightly confused at what just happened.

So Tara stands instead, and tugs on his hand for him to stand too, "It's late. Come back to bed with me, Jax."

But Jax hesitates, reluctantly coming to his feet. There is a sadness about him, a heaviness swallowing up the air between them, and he shakes his head at her. "I'll be in, in a little bit." He says, and reaches out, his hand gripping her waist while he ducks down to kiss her sweetly on the cheek instead of the lips. The distinction isn't lost on her.

He steps away from her then, and digs out his cigarettes from his pocket, holding them up for show, before he grabs his lighter from the table too. "I'm still too riled up after that talk with Gemma. I'm gonna go for a smoke or two. Don't wait up, Babe." And with those parting words, he spins around and heads for the door, which Tara notes is already unchained and unbolted, indicating that this isn't the first time he stepped out to smoke while she's been blissfully unaware of his restlessness tonight.

As the door falls shut behind him, Tara stands there feeling sad and lost for a long moment. The only comfort she finds is that he kept his word. He hadn't jumped in his truck or on his bike, and left her and the boys behind, and she had to give him credit for that. Because not confronting Gemma on these revelations face to face is very much against his nature.

So she heads back to her room alone and climbs back into bed, but no matter how hard she tries, and how tired she feels, sleep just won't come. Instead, she finds herself listening for any sound of him returning back to the apartment.

She's lost track of time, when she finally hears the distinct sound of their apartment door opening and closing. She can also hear the click of the deadbolt, when he locks the door, and even hears the clinking sound the chain makes as he slides it in place. Then she finds herself holding her breath, in an attempt to hear his footsteps approaching the bedroom, but to her disappointment that doesn't happen. Instead, she hears some cupboards closing in the kitchen, and a chair scraping across the linoleum too, and Tara realizes he still wasn't coming to bed just yet.

She wishes she knew just what to say to help ease some of the pain he is feeling. She wants to be there for him, but she fights the urge to get out of bed and seek him out once more, because clearly he wants to be alone, or he'd already be in here with her. After all, she's been the one lecturing him about boundaries since the moment he moved in here, so she needs to learn to respect his as well.

Tara tries to relax back into bed as best as she can, and eventually, she even begins drifting off to sleep. Yet when she hears the bedroom door slowly creak open and close again, she suddenly finds herself wide awake once more, but remains still out of fear he might leave again if he realizes she was still awake after all this time.

She watches him, from her position in the bed as he undresses once again, shrugging out of his shirt impatiently, the smell of cigarettes infiltrates the room as he does so, before he rather hastily unbuckles his belt and drops his jeans in a puddle of denim on the floor beside the bed.

He quietly puts his phone on the nightstand, not bothering to plug it in, before he rather cautiously slides under the covers, and she suddenly realizes by his careful movement that he is trying his best not to disturb her.

He adjusts the pillow repeatedly under his head, and it seems that he is still as restless as he was before he left the apartment to go smoke a while ago.

Tara waits patiently for him to settle down while she remains frozen in place on her side of the bed. She wants so badly to touch him, reach out, and comfort him in some way, but for the first time in a long time, she isn't sure he wants her to.

So she remains lying there in the dark, trying to listen to him breathe, before she finally can't stand this awkwardness another second longer and against her better judgment decides to slide closer to him after all. She slides right behind him, her chest flattened against his back, spooning him, wrapping her arm around him from behind, and placing several silent kisses against the nape of his neck.

To her disappointment, she can feel him stiffening under her touch at first. But then he relaxes and reaches for her hand, pulling it to his chest, and Tara can't help but feel relieved at the simple gesture. "Thought you were asleep." He suddenly says, his voice sounding raspy when he whispers the words.

"I was worried about you." She admits whispering back, her breath hot against his neck, before she kisses his nape once more. "For some reason, I couldn't fall asleep without you."

A beat or two passes in silence, before Jax suddenly speaks up. "You're killing me, Babe." He says with a twinge of threat to his voice, before he turns around to face her.

She can smell the whiskey on his breath before he even kisses her, but then she can taste it too. He reaches for her face, framing it with both his hands, to hold her in place, and when her lips part for him, his tongue greedily explores her mouth as if this was the first time they ever kissed.

Just moments ago her head had been swimming with all of these different worries, about what he was going through and how she could help him through it all, and now she finds herself completely lost in his kiss, and lost in the way his almost naked body feels pressed against hers when he rolls on top of her.

The kiss is scorching, and passionate, and never lets up, not even when he drops his hands from her face and instead grabs her waist, holding her body in place now as he presses her hard into the mattress beneath them. He proceeds to wedge one knee between her legs, unrelenting, not giving her a choice in the matter, before he begins to gently rock his thigh against her center, causing the most delicious heat to rise between her thighs and inadvertently causing her to grind her hips up against him in return. Meeting him trust for trust in a tantalizing rhythm.

She can't deny just how much she truly missed the weight of him on top of her. It is a feeling like no other. His strong broad body hovers over hers, engulfing hers completely, holding her down for him to take, for his pleasure. She is trapped, a notion that always triggers a sense of panic when she is with anybody else, but with Jax, it always made her feel the opposite, like this was her safe place. Beneath him was her safe haven, with him using his body as a shield, protecting her with it from any and all outside dangers.

So even right now, when she is not ready to take that next step with him yet, she surprises herself when she realizes that it still doesn't make her panic to be practically lying helpless underneath him. Because she knows that if she asks him to, he'll let go of her without a moment's hesitation. In all the years she's known and loved him, he's never done anything against her will when it came to matters of the bedroom.

It shouldn't have surprised her though when he eventually wedges his second knee between her legs and parts her thighs to his liking. He knows exactly what he is doing to her when he begins to grind his pelvis into hers instead of just his thigh.

She tries to stifle the moan that escapes her throat, but to no avail. He loves hearing her response out loud instead of just feeling it in her body language, and grunts his own pleasure into her mouth as they continue to kiss. It is almost like he is afraid to stop kissing her, and with it giving her the chance to shoot him down. So his lips never leave hers, refusing to let her voice anything but agreement, while her hips rock headily against his in unison, chasing the same high.

The utter sense of bliss that surges through her when she feels his erection grinds against her is immeasurable. She can tell he is fully engorged and hard as a rock, repeatedly causing her breath to catch in her throat as their bodies greedily continue to rock back and forth against each other, yet lacking that crucial pinnacle connection, merely hindered by the few scraps of clothing between them.

And then she feels like an utter hypocrite when she can't help but think of how easily that could be remedied if she wanted to. How it would take next to nothing in effort on her part to snake her hand down between them, and tug the waistband of his briefs down to spring the massive length of him free. It is just barely contained as it is.

And then it would be equally as simple to push the fabric of her sleep shorts aside enough for him to enter her without much of a hindrance.

But no, she has to stop that way of thinking. She's the one who set this specific boundary, and whether she likes it or not, and despite their current situation, Jax held true to his word in this regard as well. He hasn't tried to undress her, hasn't groped her breasts, or even attempted to slip his hands beneath her clothing, neither north nor south of her navel.

This is simply just foreplay, as he called it, she tries to remind herself reassuringly.

But then her eyes roll into the back of her head in unconstrained pleasure, and she gasps another loud moan against Jax's lips when she realizes that she isn't far at all from climaxing if he continues with what he is doing to her.

She doesn't know how he can tell from just that moan that she is close, but he can, because he finally releases her lips from his, and begins rather sloppily to kiss down a trail from her mouth down to her ear. His hips continue to snap against hers, meeting her over and over again in just the right spot, mercilessly, and his lips finally still near her ear, his hot breathy pants tingle her skin when he demands for her to let go, "I want you to come for me, Babe."

It is too much, and Tara clutches at his back in a reckless attempt to get him even closer, yet unattainable unless they are undressed. But it doesn't take much more, just a few precise strokes more of the full length of him rubbing along her clit and she finally falls over the edge.

Tara pants against his ear and unashamedly moans his name as the long-awaited orgasm rips through her for what feels like forever. "Oh, Jax."

The sound of her voice and the uncontrollable trembling of her hips leave no doubt in him that she climaxed while she still moans beneath him. No longer able to hold back any self-restraint, his hand grabs a fistful of her hair and angles her face so he can devour her mouth with a scorching kiss again when he starts to pick up the pace grinding against her some more.

The added pleasure of his even quicker movement is almost too much for her to handle after she already reached her peak once. But before she can reach that high for a second time around, Jax finally reaches his climax too. His hips lose all their rhythm and instead begin to slow their movement and simply jerk against her a few more times when he falls over the edge too. "Tara." He breathes her name completely spend against her lips, before he practically collapses on top of her.

His face is buried in the crook of her neck, and he pants, trying his best to catch his breath after the release he just experienced. He closes his eyes and kisses her moist neck in just the right spot to cause her to squirm in delight underneath him, leaving a salty taste on his lips that he enjoys far too much. He smiles to himself at the thought of what they have done, too crazy to believe it, like they were sixteen again, and yet too tired to hoist himself up enough to let her see the smile too.

He can feel the dampness of her clothes clinging to her skin and clinging to him too. Not just between her thighs but all over. Her skin looks glossy in the faint moonlight that filtered in through the small slits of the blinds in the window, and he has no doubt that his skin looks just as shiny to her. He can feel the reaper covered in a sheet of sweat, pooling in the hollow of his back.

Clearly, they both have worked up quite a sweat in their pursuit of mutual satisfaction, which to his delight they both managed to achieve, despite their state of dress and upholding Tara's set boundaries.

Honestly, he never intended to take it this far, he simply tried to numb his mind, and distract himself with some kisses from everything that wouldn't allow him to find any rest ... but then he realized just how good it felt, and how good it also made her feel, and with those thoughts in mind, he was determined to make her come if she'd let him.

He has no idea how much time has passed, all he knows is that it is already Monday morning, and with the satisfaction she let him experience, his mind is on her and her alone, and he is no longer able to keep his eyes open for another second longer.

So he begins drifting off to sleep, still draped across her, hands gripping her, clinging onto her like some dead weight. But she'll have to either deal with it, or push him off if she wants him gone, because he isn't leaving on his own. He just enjoys this spot to rest his head right above the swell of her breast way too much, along with the way his hips still rest against her open legs, and the way she begins to run her hands through his damp hair over and over again now. All of those things feel so nice on their own, yet combined they are utter perfection.

His last thought before he finally succumbs to sleep is that this is the closest thing to heaven he can imagine, this right here, even with the barrier of clothing still between them. Tara is and always would be his favorite place in the whole fucking world, and he'll never make the mistake again and let her go.

X

Author's Note: If you liked this chapter, please leave me a few words again, I'm always curious to hear your thoughts. Thanks, Skater