Tara finally arrives at her assigned seat on the plane, eager to just sit, close her eyes, and try to catch up on a little bit of sleep on this almost three-hour flight. She checks her boarding pass once more, glad to see that she has the window seat, and quickly settles in, pushing her carry-on bag underneath the seat in front of her, before she buckles up, and already closes her eyes while everyone around her is still getting situated.

"Just my luck." His voice booms over the conversations all around them, and Tara doesn't need to open her eyes to know it is John.

"Excuse me?" She blinks, and looks up at him then, catching a glimpse of him as he stores his carry-on bag in the overhead bin. She curses inwardly when she realizes he is getting ready to sit down right next to her. Awesome!

"I said, it's just my luck." John finally sits down beside her, glancing at his phone one last time, before stowing it in the small pouch beneath the food tray right in front of him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tara gives him a side eye, hoping that the next five days won't end up as awkward as the first couple of minutes have already been.

"It means, your husband told me to stay away from you, so of course, fate has us sitting right next to one another."

"What are you talking about? When did Jax talk to you?" Tara straightens up in her seat, giving John her full attention now as she eyes him curiously for an answer.

"Yesterday," John answers without missing a beat. "He came by my office." He eyes Tara for a long moment too, seeing the disbelief in her eyes. "I guess he didn't tell you." He feigns innocence, but predicted that the biker wasn't going to fill her in on what had transpired between them.

"No." Tara shakes her head, "He didn't." She looks away from him then, trying to focus her attention elsewhere, looking out the window as she thinks about what John just revealed to her.

She should've seen this coming, and should've expected Jax to take a more active role in this situation. He's never been good at just sitting on the sidelines and letting the chips fall where they may, although, and maybe that's what frustrates her so much about this, he's always expected her to do just that.

To sit and wait for him to handle it, for him to come home from a run, for the RICO case to disappear, for the cartel shit to blow over, for things with the Club to calm down again, and last but not least for the charges against her to be dropped. But none of those things ever happened with her just idly sitting by either.

So she supposes, another man interested in her is more than enough cause for Jax to be up in arms, but then again, maybe now that he had a face-to-face with John, he got it out of his system, and this would be the end of it. Or at least she hopes it would be.

For a second, the thought to apologize on his behalf occurs to her, in an attempt to put this thing to rest somehow, but then she thinks better of it. John was out of line the way he'd talked to Jax, so Jax would hate it if she apologized for something he did in return.

Tara turns to John once more then, the sudden need to defend Jax spurring her on instead, "You did provoke him that day you two first met." She and John already had this talk the day after their little run-in, but she thought it was worth mentioning again. Jax does have a legit reason not to like the guy.

John nods, "I know." He studies her expression for a long moment, and gives her a sad smile, "I guess it was just easier to pretend that we were just on a break, until I saw you with him."

"John." Tara says, alarmed by what he is implying, "Please don't make this any more awkward than it already is. I'm back with my husband. End of story." She says with conviction in her voice.

"I know. That's become painfully obvious now." John replies, and buckles his seatbelt now, looking away and pretending to follow along to the flight attendant's safety instruction a couple of rows ahead.

Tara sighs, and shifts just a little more toward the window, away from him, before she closes her eyes and tries her best to find some sleep after all, but now it is much harder to do so. Once the plane is actually in the air, she gives up on trying to rest, and instead pulls her laptop from her carry-on, and for what feels like the hundredth time reads over all of the notes and talking points for the conference, to keep her mind from going back to this rivalry between Jax and John.

X

Jax sits at the kitchen table, with Thomas' plate in front of him, cutting up his chicken nuggets into smaller bites, before he puts the plate of food back in front of his youngest boy.

Both the boys are hungry and are eating all their food without complaining, but then again, there isn't much to complain about chicken nuggets with macaroni and cheese on the side. Tara wouldn't be happy that there wasn't a vegetable in sight tonight, but it was fast, easy, and most important of all it was something Jax knew his sons would devour without pitching a fit.

For himself, he had grabbed a sandwich at the deli down the street, which he is eating just now as he keeps a close eye on his sons.

Abel and Thomas are eating rather silently, which isn't really like them. Usually around dinner time, they were very lively, animated even, especially Abel going on and on about what he learned or did at preschool that day. But that wasn't the case today, and it suddenly dawned on him that they were acting kinda off.

"Hey." Jax breaks the silence, and is rewarded with both his sons' blue eyes focusing on him right away. "What's going on? You two are usually not this quiet, boys?" He tries to ease into the conversation, already suspecting what this is about.

"I'm okay," Abel answers at first, and focuses his attention back on his food.

But Thomas holds his gaze, and looks very much like he is about to burst into tears, "I want my Mommy."

Shit!

"Hey." Jax says again, reaching across the table, and taking his little chubby hand in his, soothingly running the pad of his thumb over the sticky skin, "You know she's just working out of town, buddy. She'll be back in a few days."

"So she doesn't have a owie again?" Abel pipes up, giving Jax a questioning look of his own now.

"No, of course not." Jax shakes his head, suddenly realizing what the boys are thinking. "Why would you think Mommy got hurt?"

"Mommy always goes away when she gets owies ... on her hand, on her head," Abel explains, and looks over to his brother to confirm.

Jax's heart sinks as he listens to Abel's words, and Thomas nodding along in agreement. Jesus Christ!

"No, boys. Mommy's fine. I promise." He drops his sandwich onto his plate, and swipes his hands together, brushing off any crumbs before he reaches into his back pocket, pulls out his phone, and quickly dials her number. "Look, we're gonna call her up right now, alright?"

Tara answers on the second ring, "Hey. I was just about to call you."

"Hey, Babe, the boys wanna talk to you. I'm gonna put you on speaker." Jax says without missing a beat, and changes the phone call to the speaker function instead, not giving her a chance to even reply because he needs his sons to hear her voice this very second.

He looks at the boys, "Come on now, say hi to your Mom."

"Hi, Mommy." The boys croon in unison, staring at the device that is now lying in the middle of the table.

"Hi, boys." Tara greets back. "I miss you already." She says.

"I miss you," Thomas says, and then Abel repeats. "I miss you too."

"What are you guys doing?" Tara tries to engage them in a conversation.

"We're eating," Abel says, sounding cheerful now in between bites. "We have chicken nuggets, and we have mac and cheese, and we have apple juice."

"Really? That sounds delicious, but what about some veggies? No veggies?" Tara inquires.

"No." Thomas shrugs and shakes his head, and Abel answers, "Daddy says we don't need any veggies tonight."

"Hey, that was supposed to stay between us." Jax chimes in now for the first time, acting like he is offended, and the boys giggle at their father's facial expression, all worries from moments ago forgotten.

"Thanks for throwing me under the bus there, sons. Now I'll probably get a spankin' when she gets back." More laughter ensues.

"You wish, Teller," Tara answers teasingly, and joins in on the laughter, and exchange between her boys and her man.

Then she listens on as Abel begins to recall his day at school, and even Thomas manages to get a few words in as well.

Seeing the boys this happy upon hearing their mother's voice brings a smile to Jax's face too, at least temporarily, yet deep down he feels gutted at what just happened. How his sons quietly have come to expect that mommy not coming home for a while, means mommy got hurt again.

The phone conversation continues until they are all done eating. Then they hang up just long enough for Tara to call back via Facetime, at which point the boys practically hijack Jax's phone and show their mom around their room as if she's been gone for months instead of hours.

While the boys are busy talking to Tara, Jax busies himself around the home, doing his best Mister-Mom impression.

He puts the leftover food up, cleans up the kitchen with a lot more detail than is necessary, gets a load of laundry started, and he even starts picking up the toys the boys already managed to get out, but he knows that is simply a lost cause while they are still wide awake.

A glance at the clock tells him that it is already time to get them ready for bed. He finds them in their bedroom, showing off some random Matchbox cars to their mom. Holding the small vehicle way too close to the camera that he's sure Tara can't actually see anything like this, maybe just a blur of random colors, but the boys are none the wiser by the enthusiastic tone of her voice when she tells them that she likes this particular one the best.

"Hey, hate to be the one to break up the party, boys, but it's about that time again." Jax leans against the doorframe of their bedroom, arms folded, and tries his best to bite back a smirk at the way both his sons stick their lips out in an exaggerated pout.

His mind goes back to a teenage version of their mother, who's pouted just like that a time or two to get him to do her bidding, and if memory serves him right, it usually had worked pretty well on him too.

And even though Abel isn't her flesh and blood, right now, looking up at him like this, Jax would've sworn the contrary to be true, because fuck if he doesn't look just like her sometimes.

"It is that time, isn't it?" Comes Tara's voice through the phone, he knew he could count on her to be backing him up.

"Okay." Abel relents, which is a good thing, since Thomas usually follows suit with his big brother's decision.

At this age, it is something both Tara and Jax have come to appreciate. Yet both of them have voiced their fear before, that once their boys get older and become hormonal and rebellious teenagers like their parents used to be, Thomas blindly agreeing to Abel's mischief would come back to bite them in the ass big time. It would be the blind leading the blind!

"Alright." Jax loudly claps his hands a few times, trying to get them motivated to move their little butts, "Let's get this show in the bathtub, boys. Come on. We'll call Mom back to tell her goodnight once we're all ready to be tucked into bed, alright?"

The boys agree, and smack their lips as they blow some kisses at their mother on the phone, before they hand it back to their father, and start stripping out of their clothes on their way out the door.

Jax finally gets a good look at Tara for the first time since she called via this video call. "Hey, Babe." He says, smiling at the camera for her.

Tara smiles back, "Hey."

"I gotta get these little ogres ready for bed, alright? I'll call you back in a little bit?" He says, as his eyes flicker up to the corner of the screen, realizing that the phone is about to die on him any second now. "And my battery's about dead anyways, gotta charge it too."

"Okay." Tara says, nodding her head, "I've got some more studying to do anyway. Call me back when you're putting 'em in bed, so I can tell 'em goodnight."

"I will." Jax agrees, and he manages to blow her a kiss too, mimicking his sons, before the battery dies and the screen turns black when the phone shuts completely off.

X

It is just a few minutes past eight when Jax remains quietly standing in the doorframe of his sons' bedroom. Staring back into the dark room, he stands as if frozen in place while he continues to watch both their little chests rise and fall steadily, as deep slumber begins to take over.

At first, he was honestly surprised that they'd fallen asleep as quickly as they did tonight, after just one measly bedtime story. He anticipated without Tara here they'd make it more difficult than usual, but the opposite was the case.

And under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have found himself standing here, watching them sleep, and wouldn't have given any of that so much as a second thought. He would've thought himself lucky, but that isn't the case at all tonight. He is feeling too guilt-ridden at the moment to chalk anything his sons did tonight up to luck or sheer coincidence.

He just can't shake the memory of the look on both their faces, or the tears brimming in his youngest son's eyes at the thought that his mother isn't coming home because she is hurt again. So now Jax wonders, after Tara told them yesterday she'd be gone for a few days, how much sleep they got last night since they are this exhausted right now.

And by extension, he wonders just what exactly has been going on in their little heads this morning when Tara said her byes to them.

He can't really blame them for thinking the worst, because she said her byes to them like any other day back at the park on the day Juice assaulted her too, and the next thing they were told was that mommy is hurt, and isn't coming home to them. Never mind the fact that he was getting booked himself, and hadn't even been there to deliver that message himself.

Then his mind drifts back even further. On another day they spend time at a park, with their mother getting dragged away from their car fighting, kicking, and screaming for their father, for him to help.

And yes, someway, somehow he managed to save her that day, but in the aftermath of it all, the boys had seen the agonizing pain on her face, and the red hot blood dripping from her hand ... there had been no way to avoid them bearing witness to that.

And today only proved that they could be fairly easily distracted, brought back to the here and now, but deep down they haven't forgotten any of it just yet. They know their mom's been through some shit, and expected more to come.

So he can see how in their little minds this time was no different, and it crushed him to think that the pain and suffering Tara endured, has spilled on over to both his sons to a much bigger extent than he previously assumed.

He thought he'd done everything in his power to keep the ugliness from them, but it is obvious now that this is just one more thing he's failed them in.

I'm the mother of your sons. You hurt me, you hurt all of us!

The subject matter in which she said those words to him was another altogether, but still, Tara's words from so long ago rang so true in the back of his mind this very moment.

If he had only listened to her back then, packed her and those babies up, and gotten the hell outta dodge ... so much hurt, and pain could've been avoided by all of them.

Tears well up in his eyes, and he is quick to reach up and swipe them away before they can even fall. He silently turns and steps out of the room now, closing the door behind him before he steps across the hall into Tara's bedroom instead, closing that door behind him as well.

It suddenly dawns on him that the sick feeling he had in his gut might've had nothing to do with Tara or her trip out of town, but instead, it was about him and his sons all along, and him finally realizing the pain they are struggling with too.

He slowly takes a seat on the edge of the bed, and hangs his head in defeat. Hunched over, his elbows on his knees, he buries his face in both his hands, trying to get his own emotions back under control, but the tears keep on returning no matter how much he wipes them away.

In quiet moments like these, left to his own self-loathing thoughts about all the pain and suffering Tara and his boys have endured, the damage he's inflicted on them seems too much for him to bear ... and maybe even beyond repair, but God knows he'll die trying.

Tara and my boys, Tara and my boys ... back when he was locked up, they were all he could think about, and how he'd do things differently, pull them out of the cesspool of violence and greed. How he'd promised her they wouldn't grow up in this!

Is there anything you love so much, you'd protect it no matter the cost? The damage it did to you?

Yeah ... yeah, a child.

He finds himself thinking back on all those long-forgotten -or maybe just suppressed out of guilt- little talks they had. And looking back now, knowing what he knows now, it all seems so clear to him where he had gone wrong each time.

Too many times he's found himself with the proverbial fork in the road ahead of him, and it seems that each and every time he'd chosen the path, at full speed, that ultimately led him further and deeper into the grasp of SAMCRO. Further toward becoming the man he hated, and in turn, it pushed him further away from her and his boys, and the life they should've had all along.

With the only exception being, the moment when he offered himself up to Patterson, willing to do hard time so she, an innocent, could walk free and save their sons.

But his one redeemable act had been shattered, made null and void again, with Juice's action against her later that same day. They'll suffer with this!

Sure, months later he struck another deal with Patterson, and she eventually left with his sons in tow, but at this point, the damage was already done, the carnage too real to ignore any longer.

The tears finally stop flowing, but he still swipes his hands angrily down his face as if that can also wipe away the guilt that is eating him alive right now. Needless to say, it doesn't work.

He is out! He chose her and the boys ... left SAMCRO behind. But has he ... really?

He swallows the lump in his throat, and slowly comes to his feet, before he walks into the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face to find more clarity.

He has broken free from Charming, Gemma, and the Club, learned from his numerous mistakes, and sworn never to return again.

He closed the door to that part of his life behind him ... except for one thing.

With new-found determination and more clarity than he's ever felt before, he quietly steps back into the boys' room just long enough to turn on the baby monitor that sits on the highest shelf out of reach of the two.

He then grabs the corresponding other piece from Tara's nightstand, quickly turns it on, and stuffs the device into his back pocket, before he steps out the front door of their apartment and heads down the hall toward Mrs. Ellie's place.

X

Jax hastily finishes the last of his cigarette, before he flings the remaining filter out the window of his truck, sure it will be extinguished by the wet asphalt beneath if not by the still-falling rain itself.

He doesn't waste any time and quickly rolls up the window on his truck, before he opens the door and climbs outside. After a few quick phone calls earlier to some of his co-workers he decided on this place right here to do the deed.

His swagger seems more distinct than usual as he crosses the street toward the tattoo parlor. He can't decide if the bright neon lights in the window make the place seem more legit, or if they have the complete opposite effect, but he has it on good authority that this is the most reputable place in town.

A little bell above the door rings on entering, letting his presence be known, and he steps up to the counter, waiting for someone to come greet him any moment now.

His eyes drift across the shop, taking it all in, and it strikes him just how similar one tattoo parlor seems to look like the next. As if they all follow the same general decorative guidelines when it comes to tattoo art and piercings alike.

A big burly man finally steps through the black curtain that separates the front entrance from the back rooms and greets him at once. His voice is a low and deep rumble that matches his appearance, "How can I help you?"

"I'm here for a tattoo," Jax says, sounding stern.

He strips the black latex gloves off of his hands, and tosses them in the small trash can behind him, before he turns his attention to the open calendar notebook on the counter, and begins scanning down the page, "You've got an -"

"No, man." Jax interjects and shakes his head, "I don't have an appointment. But I need this done tonight." He met the man's eyes across the counter from him, hoping the look in his eyes would convey just how serious he was.

The guy scoffs, "Listen, man, we're usually booked up at least a solid week out, sometimes even longer. I've got everyone busy back there right now." He says, trying to sound apologetic, as he starts turning pages on the calendar book before him, trying to pinpoint the next available appointment he could offer to him.

"Look, I need this done tonight," Jax repeats again with an even more serious tone to his voice, and it catches the man's attention and he meets Jax's eyes once more as Jax rambles on. "It's not gonna be hard, if you've got an intern, a new kid, someone still learning the trade -"

"Shit." The guy interrupts Jax now, and tugs absentmindedly on his long beard, eyeing him much more cautiously now. "You just need something covered up? Like blacked out? Man, you don't want that shit done by some new kid, with hands shaking more than the needle itself. That's bad juju." The man says with a knowing look.

"Bad juju, really?" Jax asks, unable to keep the smile from forming on his lips.

"Yeah, man, ... you know, like Karma." The guy further elaborates, looking serious in his convictions.

Jax shakes his head, eyebrows raised, "My kid was born ten weeks early, with a fucked up heart and his insides hanging out. My old lady's a doctor, saves babies' lives every day, and she's been kidnapped, beaten, and almost killed ... let's just say I don't believe in Karma, bro. 'Cause if Karma's real, none of that shit would've happened to them, but to me instead." Sounding just as serious in his beliefs in return.

The guy tugs on his beard again, eyeing Jax some more, "Why tonight? You're thinking if you don't get it done now, you might change your mind again? Or what's this urgency that I'm getting here?"

"No, man." Jax shakes his head again, "It's not about me changing my mind, ... it's about regretting not having it done much sooner and not wanting to wait another fucking minute longer than I have to."

The man nods in understanding at that, "How big are we talking here?"

Jax turns around, pulling the back of his shirt up to his shoulders, exposing the whole reaper on his back.

"Shit." The man says again, "That's gonna take a while to get all covered up."

"Yeah." Jax nods now too, "It probably will."

X

Jax stands in Tara's bedroom, his back turned toward the mirror as he looks over his shoulder at his back for a long silent minute. The blacked-out reaper is covered in ointment and clear wrap that's been carefully taped down with medical tape to stay in place.

He eyes it, clearly satisfied with the results, before he carefully pulls a clean shirt over it for the night. He'd known for months that it needed to be done, and now it finally was.

He still remembers the day he got the tattoo like it was just yesterday. At the time, getting patched in, it meant everything to him. He'd thrown himself head first into the Club, and when it came down to deciding the size and placement of his Club ink, it came only naturally to have it on his back, as if his kutte had seeped into and under his skin permanently. To be forever a part of him.

He envisioned feeling nostalgic in a sense, no one could really blame him, it would only be natural if he did since the ink had been a part of him for such a long, long time.

But the fact that he isn't feeling any of that at all, perplexes even him, yet makes it all the more clearer that he's finally made the right choice.

And just like he'd been so proud to show off the reaper when he first got it right after patching in, now he is just as proud to surprise Tara with this when she'll get back home in a couple of days.

But above all else, he needs his sons to not grow up hating the very thought of him, and this is without a shadow of a doubt a step in the right direction.

They wouldn't know it just yet, they were simply still too young to understand it all, but in time they'd grow older, and just like him they'd learn even more of the ugly truth, and he can only hope they forgive him for what he's done, to their mother and to them, and that this night would be marked as a milestone on his long road to redemption.

SAMCRO is truly behind him now, not just for the sake of his wife and his boys, but his own as well, and those thoughts alone let him fall asleep with a smile on his face tonight.

X

Author's Note: I gotta be honest, I struggled with the decision to have him cover up his ink, because it looks just so good on him, but for the sake of this story it had to be done. Let me know what you think, good or bad. Thank you

P.S. If anyone can pull off a blacked-out reaper, it's Jackson Teller! ;)