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as many times as i've seen this it's never occurred to me before that this is where everything breaks. this attempt on her life is the breaking point for literally everything that happens after.

jax blames himself for tara's hand. tara blames him for the hand. gemma blames clay and clay's too fucking pissed that he's finally lost all control.

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"please get mad at me, tara."

this is fine.

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Sons of Anarchy 1.10 “Better Half”

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and gemma's so fucking smart, it hurts me.

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i'm so sad thinking about how happy jax was to be free of the club. he got a glimmer of what normal civilian life could look like; a cop asking about family without any judgement of him as a person. he genuinely wants to break the generational cycle. but, then he has to double down on everything when that dream gets ripped from him and when tara starts to hate literally everything about him.

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Sons of Anarchy

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Jax & Tara ↦ Crucifixed (05x10)

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jax laughs despite himself. absently, his free hand reaches off to the side for the pack of cigarettes and the zippo sitting nearby. with his own dancing against astoria's lips, the conversation prompts him to pull out another. he doesn't bother to let go of her hand, though. with the night being relatively calm there's no need to shield the flame ( habit as it may be ). several puffs later he's able to smoke as normal, exhaling off to the side to make sure the night breeze doesn't blast anything into her face.

his mind starts churning again. this time it's about the future they're playfully proposing together. messy didn't mean impossible, which the blonde files away for another time. for now, he's determined to start saving for the declaratiion of love she deserves. although, unless something serious changes in the next six months that isn't going to be the largest in the store. at least it'll be real, though. not the cracker jack excuse of a band he'd bought for wendy when they made the quick decision to do it.

" i'd rather we get this shit under wraps first, anyway. " pinched fingers rub at his temple. a sigh escapes from his lips right before jax shakes his head. the previous line of thought was so much more preferable. yet, this was why he'd abandoned her in the middle of the night to sit in the cold. only right that astoria be part of that conversation especially if they planned to be married one day. the more she knew the more informed she could be on whether or not staying was really the right thing to do for her. " last thing i want is for you to be a target and me not knowing which direction to cover you from. "

silence falls between them for a few moments. her questions weigh down heavily on his shoulders. he's a few puffs in before jax ends up shaking his head. " no stupid questions here, babe. " he uses his thumb to idly scratch his own jaw. " we're goin' tomorrow. er, later today i guess it is. plan is to blind side him to see if we can get the truth rather than set up a meet and have him craft the perfect answer. " not the smartest thing, going into niner territory and accuse their leader of murder. but, if they wanted the truth it was the fastest way.

" as for clay? i don't have all the info on that. feels like i'm missing something. tig's been acting weird but he's also a weird motherfucker. who knows if it's related or if it's his latest cock obsession. if he's covering for clay there's no getting the truth. " did donna know something she wasn't supposed to? that's hard to imagine considering opie wasn't in on everything. " if he's lying about this? it protects his life. that's what he has to gain. killing a member takes a fucking good reason to vote on and there's no vote. if he went rogue and made that decision on his own? killed someone's wife? " jax shakes his head rather than filling in the blank.

It's all so different from everything she knew. Her childhood was a long game of hide and seek, though the rules never changed: her mother hid, and Astoria looked for her everywhere.

The summer after she finished her first year of university, the summer after she met her father, she asked her mother about it, and Veronika's response had just been that she knew how to love a child, but not how to like one. It took Veronika too long to notice that Astoria had gone silent, only to rush in with, "Well, now I like you!" like it would soothe the wound. Astoria didn't ask the question she wanted to ask: but do you still love me? She already knew the answer. It's an old story: privilege doesn't buy love, doesn't buy emotional connection. And she got it eventually (from her grandparents, from the uncle she thinks of more as a brother than anything, from her father and her stepmother and her sister), but the lack of it so young left her ruined.

(Her ex once told her, rather eloquently, there's scar tissue in place of where your heart should be. He followed it by telling her that he couldn't keep spending his life trying to rebuild what wasn't there anymore, but she barely heard it: for a moment she'd simply basked in the sensation of being understood.)

The thought of that kind of family, that kind of devotion, born not from obligation and duty but by a choice made over and over again, it's intoxicating. It's exhilarating. Before meeting Jax she'd have said it was a faery tale. And it's not just in the way he trusts her to calm his son, or in the way Clay asked her after Jax filled him in on her secrets if she knew how to shoot: it's in how they all interact with each other, each laugh and jab and explosion of anger followed by such quick and unconditional forgiveness.

"It would be a little bit of a mess to manage, what with the whole false identity thing. But for the record—yeah." It's an insane thing to say, really: it's been, what? Less than a year since she arrived. A matter of mere months since she and Jax started calling this a relationship. Still, she supposes, when you know, you know. "I really do. I'd marry you tomorrow, to be honest. I mean, I wouldn't recommend that particular timing, all things considered, but the sentiment stands. And," she adds with a chuckle, "I love you enough not to hold you to any of this before we've talked it out after a good night's sleep for the both of us. But—yeah. Worth having that out there, I think."

The question of timing brings her back to Donna and Opie. Some part of her wonders if she's pushing her luck by asking questions and trying to talk through it, but this is her life too, isn't it? And Jax has carried so much of this on his own that offering to help him shoulder the weight can't hurt. "If we can't answer that question, then, there are a couple others that need to be asked. First, if it's not Leroy, who has something to gain from making it look like it is? And second, if Clay's story doesn't add up, what does he stand to gain from lying about it?" She pauses, then. "Maybe this is a stupid question, but has anyone actually talked to Leroy? Not that I think anyone's going to just own up to it to set your mind at ease, but you'd think a declaration of war would be acknowledged, right? If that's what it was?"

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gemma @sacraementals said, ' change is never easy. '

abel was a day or two out from finally coming home. after all the surgery, the worry, and the sleepless nights his little baby boy was going to be where he belonged. which, oddly enough, had jax thinking about something, no, someone else and what all belonged.

" yeah, but i'm lookin' forward to this one, " both hands shove deep into the pockets of his jeans. fingers from his right hand skirt over the pack of cigarettes while his left lightly grips the zippo he'd gotten from his father. a smile stretches the corners of his mouth. " that one's taken some getting used to. "

astoria's sitting vigil next to his infant's unit, exactly where she had been since the two met and jax was unable to sit with his son himself. no one else would've offered; not any of the croweaters and certainly not anyone he'd slept with since....

well, since tara.

" and before you get any funny ideas, red's not goin' anywhere. i - " love was such a strong word. feelings certainly churned in his chest and there were those ticklish bastard butterflies every time the biker watched astrid with his child but did that really mean the ' l ' word? jax isn't even sure he's capable of that level of emotion. too much danger and too many variables. " i wanna see where it goes. "

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      jax teller + his tattoos              requested by anonymous

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" not the worst thing anyone's ever said to me, " jax can't help but tease, leaning into astoria's shoulder to emphasize the budding playful mood. all the time they'd spend together only served to strengthen his resolve to make the club a better place. clearly, his father had different ideas of where everyone was supposed to go, given the manifesto he'd found in the storage unit.

had tara been around, maybe he'd consider leaving the club as opposed to making it less bloody. all jax could think of were the positives he felt in growing up in such an environment. for one, he was never alone. whenever either clay or gemma were busy he could stay with piney with no problem. there was always someone around just like one big extended family. how many people had that out in the real world? but, jax did agree that they'd veered off course somewhere. a bubbling down in the pit of his gut said that was because clay got greedy. every bump the club hit meant the old man was trying that much harder to make up for lost space. but, why? just to retire?

jax doesn't respond to the question right away. his own thoughts seemingly plucked from his brain and put out on display for only red to see. he lifts his head from where it'd settled down on her shoulder, allowing himself to fidget with the fingers twined with his as a way of working through his thoughts.

although, all of it stops at four little words. almost like a hiccup in his movements because he goes right back to feeling over one of her knuckles with the pad of his thumb. " enough to marry me? " that playful streak back with a sleepy vengeance. the biker lifts both their hands to his lips, allowing the kiss to linger before setting everything back down again. " i love you, too, red. looking back, i can see how much i was just floating through life before you came along. one great fuck to the next. that shit don't mean anything, though. this, " his index points down at the porch. " being able to talk to you like this...lean on you...trust you with all my secrets. that shit means more to me than you'll ever know. "

for the first time, jax could honestly say he trusted a partner with his life. he'd never felt that before.

" as for clay, " a train of thought that brings the fidgeting back. " story doesn't add up. the beef we have with leroy right now? doesn't need blood. why escalate even if opie was the intended target? he says we're being greedy and i'm inclined to agree with him. but, he also knows starting a war with us only sandwiches him with the mayans and threatens to cut off his gun supply in the process. so, maybe it wasn't leroy and it was just someone trying to make a statement cause you certainly don't look at that piece of shit truck and think to steal it. "

there it was, only a fraction of the monologue he'd been having with himself since they found donna on the street. shaking his head, jax takes his free hand to rub up and down his face. " all that to say, yeah, i think ope was the target. what i can't wrap my head around is why. "

She lets out a thoughtful hum around the cigarette before she puts out out on the step beside her and slips her hand into his. Gently, she raises their linked hands, presses a kiss to his knuckles first, then the soft underside of his wrist, just over the flutter of his pulse. "Looks like you're stuck with me, love," Astoria says with a little laugh, and she lowers their hands, nestles closer to him. It's so simple to say—a statement of fact more than a declaration of war against anything that wants to uproot her now, including her own cowardice.

For several long moments, she's silent, her lower lip caught in her teeth and the fingers of her free hand drumming against a bare knee as she thinks. His confession pulls her back to the present, and she lets out another laugh, bright and warm. "Must be a hell of a woman, to get you thinking about that again." She raises her eyebrows, nose scrunching with the width of her smile. "Better keep that one around.

"I get it, though." Her voice is softer, and despite the steady grip of her hand around his, she's lost in the memory for a moment. "I was engaged in uni—after everything that happened I was so afraid of being alone, and then I just felt like I was being suffocated. And it was so overwhelming and terrifying that I just started self-destructing, like I wanted to make sure I could still feel anything else, because if being loved wasn't enough to fix me, then there had to be something really fucking wrong, right? I was twenty-one when we split up, after four years, and it was like coming up for air. Haven't been serious about anyone since, really. Well." Her smile grows crooked, and she's fully present again, eyes bright as they meet his. "Until now."

Astoria falls silent again, and her fingers slip between Jax's, lacing tightly into his as if she means to ground herself. She's thinking about it again, the funeral and Jax's brief appearance, the ever-growing distance between him and Clay, the tension so tangible she sometimes thinks she could hold it in her hands. "So if wives and kids are off-limits, either all the rules are changing, or Opie was the target, and Donna was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." There's plenty he can't tell her, but she asks anyway, just in case. "Which do you think it was?"

And then, voice softer and almost hesitant, like she's not sure what to expect in response: "I love you. You know that, right? I'm the kind of in love with you that feels really, really big. And I'm all in. None of this changes that for me."

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" i was expecting you to, if we're being honest. " not that he ever lied to astoria. ommissions of truth here and there but, so far, they hadn't been for long. not saying the whole truth had more to do with club obligation than it did anything else and he'd never felt so carefree in his life. having someone to lean on through all the hard shit? most importantly, an outside perspective who isn't muddled by all the fuckin' politics and money.

turning his head to the side, jax presses his forehead against astoria's temple and pushes very similar to a cat. he does it once more for loving affect. on the second time the blonde doesn't pick his head up immediately. instead, he pushes again, closes his eyes, and breathes in the scent of her shampoo. any and every reminder that she's whole, in his hands.

" all that's different, though. those are out of our control but beef with other clubs? " a small shake with his head finally lifting up into the air. " it's very fifties, i know, i get that, but wives are supposed to be off limits. no women. no kids. crossing that line opens a whole world of shit. " being called home was not lost on the biker. sad and scared, he still manages to grin at the sentiment. " you feel like home, too. didn't think i'd ever find that. "

even pulling back, jax stays angled so he can watch astoria's features. the moonlight puts an ethereal glow all over her as if she were his guardian angel. the flush in his cheeks urges him to look down at his ring finger again. jax tilts his head to the side, mulling over the way to answer. more specifically, how much truth he wants to put into it.

" it was a shit show, " the biker can't help but smile. it's not a particularly bad memory but also not a great one. their whirlwind was full of arguments, drugs, and non-stop cheating. " we're better friends but i was so fuckin' lonely. opie had donna since high school but tara left and i never found anyone after. i stupidly thought it was going to settle something in me but it only made me feel more constrained. having said all that, " jax's head tilts to the other side. " been considering it again here lately. got someone that makes me think it just might work. "

"Mm. Wasn't you who woke me. Abel was getting fussy while I was coming back from the bathroom. Figured I might as well head that off. He likes Fleetwood Mac." Astoria grins, despite everything; that little boy is pure sunlight, especially now. "He was out before I even got to the good part of Crystal." There's a thrill shooting up her spine that she's felt every time she successfully soothes the baby, or that he reaches for her when he wants comfort, or that his face lights up at the sight of her red hair. She's spent so long destroying everything around her that such simple and honest warmth and love leaves her reeling.

The affection doesn't surprise her; neither does the worry that follows. With someone else, Astoria would rush to reassure him that she wasn't going anywhere, that she'd never even thought about it. Assuming, of course, that she didn't simply answer it with thanks, but no thanks, I'm out of here. She lets out a slow breath, brings the cigarette back to her lips. She owes Jax honesty, at the very least. She intends to deliver.

"I gave it some thought, you know. Back when Stahl first showed up and figured out who I was. I thought about taking off. It seemed like too much happening all at once, you know? Like there would just be trouble if I stuck around. But this place feels like home." She bumps his shoulder with her own. "You feel like home. The way I see it, I could get hit by a bus tomorrow. Or I could get shot driving home. I've spent enough time running to know how it feels and wherever I go, there's a risk that it'll happen. If I'm running on borrowed time, I'd rather spend it with you. Besides, you have to be a whole new kind of stupid and suicidal to fuck with Jax Teller's girl, I think." Astoria presses a kiss to his shoulder, leaning into him. "So if you're good with it, I'm not going anywhere."

Her eyes follow the movement of his hands, and she speaks before she can think better of it. "You ever think about getting married again?" The question is asked with honest curiosity; it would be a little early to start angling for a proposal. They might have jumped to living together quickly, but even she doesn't move that fast. "What was it like, bringing Wendy in like that?"

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the way things are going, jax can't say he's particularly surprised about donna. doesn't make it any easier or even ease the pain in his chest. worse, was all the thoughts swirling around in his head that made him feel guiltier than sin. he's not sure if it's those particular thoughts keeping him up or the fact that he's not surprised someone innocent got hurt.

he's also not surprised when he hears silent foot falls headed his direction, nor when the door creaks open and a small body settles in next to him. " i was trying not to wake you, " the blonde's voice is a little gravelly from a mix of disuse and chain-smoking into the star-filled night. after tossing around for several moments he decided to get out of bed completely. better one of them got a full night's rest to take care of abel than neither of them.

turning to the side, lips press against red's forehead where they linger while thoughts churn. seconds or even minutes later there's another quick kiss. then, jax turns to look at his own hands. his forearms are resting on his knees, fingers stretched out as if trying to reach together.

" shit's not usually this bad, " jax licks his lips and shakes his head. " sure, there's ups and down. several years ago we got in bad with the mayans but, i dunno, this feels different. " tig's been on edge and clay felt on the otherside of ruthless. could it be as simple as the clock ticking down on his hands? did the old man want to leave some specific legacy before he couldn't ride anymore? whatever happened with donna had nothing to do with money. pride, maybe.

" all i can think is about you bein' next. what if it were you driving that truck? what if it'd been you at that light? " again, jax shakes his head. only, this time, his fingers manage to reach together and the pads of his right hand dust over the space where a wedding ring used to be for all of several days. " if you wanted out i wouldn't blame you. "

@gaveldefy / plotted starter.

She's learned a lot, these last months in Charming. How to become a new person and shed old skin. How to budget. How to become invisible. How to aim a gun. The weight of the weapon is familiar, now, even comforting, and that in and of itself is enough to make Astoria wonder how much of herself is what it was two years ago, before any of this started.

Her family wouldn't recognize her, she knows, and she lets out a humorless huff of laughter at the thought. It's not just the new tattoos, the different makeup, the changes to her hair and her clothes—it's in everything. She carries herself differently, and even though she has more to fear now than she ever did back home, she thinks she's less afraid.

Abel is asleep again, soothed by the sound of her quiet singing, and she could go back to her empty bed and hope that Jax will actually get some sleep tonight, but she's never been a particularly patient woman, and even Charming hasn't changed that. He doesn't sleep enough. Hasn't slept enough since before Donna's funeral, but that day seemed to change something in him. She's still not sure what. She'd be a liar if she said she wasn't worried.

He doesn't turn around when he hears the door opening, and Astoria steps out of the house, wrapped in one of his hoodies and with the baby monitor tucked in her pocket, the silence of the night broken by the gentle static from the speaker. Her legs, bare except for the underwear she slept in, scrape against the cement as she sits, but she barely notices, and when Jax doesn't immediately move away from her, she winds an arm through his, and she plucks the cigarette from between his lips to bring to her own.

"You don't have to talk about it yet," she says quietly, and she slips her hand into his, laces their fingers together. "But if you want to, you can. I'm on your side, love. That's not going to change, whatever it is that's on your mind."

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DEAR JOHN (2010) dir. Lasse Hallström

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