A television murmuring in another room.

The distant clink of bottles.

Laughter drifting in from outside.

The hum of refrigerators.

The old building settling with familiar creaks and groans that only came after midnight.

Life.

Normal life.

The kind that kept moving whether people were ready for it or not.

Chibs stood beneath the awning outside the clubhouse with a cigarette burning slowly between his fingers.

Forgotten.

The ember had nearly reached the filter.

He hadn't noticed.

His eyes remained fixed on the bunk room window.

The light was still on.

She wasn't sleeping.

Again.

The realization settled like lead in his chest.

Three days.

Three days since she'd been found.

Three days since Marcus called.

Three days since he'd walked into a Mayans clubhouse and found his daughter alive.

Alive.

The word still didn't feel real.

Some mornings he woke up and forgot.

Just for half a second.

Then remembered.

And the relief hit all over again.

Followed immediately by everything else.

The bruises.

The scars.

The way she flinched whenever doors opened too quickly.

The way she positioned herself where she could see every exit without seeming to think about it.

The way she woke from nightmares trying desperately not to make noise.

The way she apologized for things that weren't her fault.

His jaw tightened.

The cigarette burned lower.

Inside the bunk room, the light finally clicked off.

His chest loosened.

Only slightly.

A voice interrupted the silence.

"You're staring."

Marcus.

Of course.

Chibs didn't look away from the window.

"Aye."

Marcus stepped beside him beneath the awning.

Neither man spoke for a moment.

They'd known each other too long for unnecessary conversation.

The silence between them had never required filling.

Eventually Marcus folded his arms.

"You're leaving soon."

Not a question.

A statement.

The certainty of it irritated Chibs immediately.

"Aye."

Marcus nodded once.

"Good."

That finally earned him a look.

"What?"

The word came out rougher than intended.

Marcus didn't seem particularly concerned.

"You're no good for her here."

The words landed like a punch.

Immediate.

Brutal.

Chibs stared at him.

Marcus stared right back.

Neither man blinked.

Neither man backed down.

"Careful."

The warning sat between them.

Marcus ignored it.  "No."  His gaze shifted briefly toward the darkened bunk room window before returning to Chibs.  "I'm serious."

Silence.

Because he was.

And somehow that made it worse.

Marcus continued.

"Right now you're still searching."

The words caught Chibs completely off guard.

"What?"

"You heard me."

A pause.

"You're still searching."

Chibs looked away.

Back toward the clubhouse.

Toward the room where his daughter was sleeping.

Or trying to.

Marcus kept going.

"Every time she leaves a room, you check where she went."

Silence.

Because he wasn't wrong.

"Every time she gets quiet, you think something happened."

Another pause.

"Every time a door opens, you look up."

The truth settled heavily between them.

Ugly.

Unavoidable.

Chibs hated it.

Because he couldn't argue.

Not honestly.

Marcus' voice softened.

Just enough.

"She's safe."

The statement hung there.

Simple.

Certain.

"We got her."

Chibs closed his eyes briefly.

The words should have helped.

Instead they hurt.

Because some part of him still expected the phone to ring.

Still expected somebody to tell him she'd disappeared again.

Still expected this entire thing to turn out to be another nightmare.

Marcus seemed to understand.

He waited before speaking again.

"She needs stability."

A long silence followed.

"She needs routine."

The word felt strangely important.

Routine.

Something ordinary.

Something predictable.

Something that captivity had stolen from her one day at a time.

Chibs' shoulders sagged.

Marcus nodded.

He gestured vaguely toward the clubhouse.

"Food."

Another gesture.

"Sleep…. Choices."

That one hit hardest.

Because they both knew how many choices had been stolen from her.

Marcus leaned back against the railing.

"The quicker she gets that..."

His eyes drifted toward the clubhouse.

Toward the room where Lex was finally sleeping.

"...the easier it'll be for her to heal."

The night stretched quietly around them.

For a long moment neither man spoke.

Then another voice joined them.

"You should listen to him."

Tig.

Of course it was Tig.

The bastard appeared carrying a beer and looking entirely too pleased with himself.

Chibs groaned immediately.

"Oh for fuck's sake."

“Tig's right, you know..”  Marcus crossed his arms.

Tig shrugged.  "As usual."

"You've never been right a day in your life."

"That's hurtful."  Tig scrunched his face in exaggerated offense.

Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose.

Already regretting both of them.

Tig continued anyway.  "Kid needs normal."

A humorless laugh escaped Chibs.

"We live in a bloody motorcycle club."

"Yeah."  Tig nodded.  "Which is still more normal than chained in a basement."

The fight left Chibs immediately.

Gone.

Just like that.

Because there wasn't an argument for it.

Not one.

Tig's expression softened.

Slightly.

Enough.

"You're looking at her like she's broken."

Chibs' head snapped around.

The look he gave Tig would've sent most men running.

Tig remained exactly where he was.

Unimpressed.

"I'm serious."

He finally took a drink from the beer.

The words came quieter now.

More careful.

"Every time you look at her..."

He pointed the bottle toward Chibs.

A pause.

"...you're seeing what happened."

Silence.

Marcus looked away.

Giving the moment room.

Tig nodded toward the clubhouse.

"I'm seeing Lex."

The words settled heavily.

Because Chibs knew exactly what he meant.

The kid who stole fries off everyone's plate.

The teenager who argued with grown men and somehow won.

The girl who painted murals nobody asked for.

The one who refused to leave injured animals alone.

The one who cried over stupid things and laughed too loud and cared too much.

Lex.

Not the bruises.

Not the scars.

Not the trauma.

Her.

Tig exhaled slowly.

"Remember that bird?"

Chibs groaned immediately.

"Oh, Jesus Christ."

Marcus frowned.

"What bird?"

Tig pointed triumphantly.

"Exactly."

The response made absolutely no sense.

Marcus looked annoyed.

Chibs looked exhausted.

Tig remained completely committed.

"Kid found a dead bird behind Teller-Morrow."

Marcus blinked.

"...and?"

"She made us bury it."

Silence.

Immediate.

"What?"

Tig pointed toward Chibs.

"He complained the whole time."

"I did."

"Then he dug the hole himself."

Marcus actually stared.

Chibs rubbed a hand over his face.

Tig looked thoroughly vindicated.

"My point is..."

His voice softened.

"...that's still her."

The words landed.

Hard.

Because they were true.

Not the basement.

Not the chains.

Not the bruises.

Her.

Still stubborn.

Still worrying about everybody else.

Still trying to protect people.

Still carrying weight that didn't belong to her.

The realization settled somewhere deep in Chibs' chest.

Painful.

Necessary.

For the first time since walking through Santo Padre's doors...

He wasn't looking at what had been taken.

No.

He was looking at what had survived.

And that...

That mattered more.

The three men stood quietly for a while, watching the dark clubhouse and listening to the sounds of people slowly putting themselves back together.

Eventually Marcus pushed away from the railing.

"Go home, Filip."

The words were simple.

Certain.

Chibs looked up.

Marcus nodded toward the clubhouse.

"We'll keep her safe."

A pause.

"We'll keep both of them safe."

Because this wasn't just Lex anymore.

It was Letty too.

Another kid trying to remember what normal felt like.

Chibs swallowed hard.

Marcus continued.

"When she's ready..."

A small smile touched the corner of his mouth.

"You come back and drag her home."

The image hit harder than expected.

Lex arguing.

Complaining.

Rolling her eyes.

Insisting she could handle herself.

Acting like everything was fine.

The way she'd always done.

For the first time all night, something inside him eased.

Not much.

Just enough.

Tig clapped him on the shoulder.

Hard.

"See?"

Chibs immediately scowled.

"Don't ruin the moment."

Tig grinned.

Far too pleased with himself.

Marcus rolled his eyes.

And somewhere inside the clubhouse, a door opened.

Then closed.

Normal sounds.

Routine.

Life continuing.

Slowly...

Chibs allowed himself to believe that maybe...

Just maybe...

That was exactly what she needed.

------

PART 17

Kozik had mentioned offhand that the kid, Jolly Green, had a good head on his shoulders and already had a mind for motorcycles and engines. That was rare to find in one so young, and Jax had praised Kozik for bringing the kid to the table, even if it was just passing information for now.

Well, now Happy would have a turn vetting the kid.

So he slows down and follows the kid for a while, curious if the young man will notice him or not. Happy is pleased that it doesn't take Arthur long, only a couple of seconds of hearing the idling Harley, before the kid stops and turns to look right at Happy. They stare at one another, green eyes meeting the enforcer's own dark eyes and taking in the older man with a quiet intelligence that Happy can see even from his bike.

Hmm. Maybe Kozik wasn't full of shit after all.

"Can ah help ya, Sir?"

Kozik hadn't been kidding about that fucking accent either. Happy doesn't remember the last time he'd heard someone make out of goddamn cornbread. Jolly Green was a good fit, too.

"You're Arthur." Happy grunts, rolls into the shoulder by the sidewalk, and cuts the engine on his bike. He leans into his handlebars, arms crossed over the front, "_'s kid."

The kid frowns and shifts his weight, giving Happy his full attention and wondering how in the hell he knew about his momma when Arthur sees the kutte on Happy's back and feels himself relax a fraction. You'd told him about your trip and running into the other member of the MC, and so far they had all been respectful enough.

"Yeah," Arthur says and shoves his hands into his back pocket, a habit he had picked up from you when you'd first started dressing him in jeans, and he wore them longer than an hour before he was suddenly naked again.

"Why?"

Happy is quiet for a moment, thinking about what he wants to say and how much he wants to give away to the kid. Just from the way Arthur holds himself, Hap can see the kid fitting right in with the rest of them. He just needed a… guiding hand.

"You comin' to the cookout with your mom?"

Arthur purses his lips and shifts his weight, shrugging one shoulder. He didn't seem to mind how short and to the point Happy was, preferred it actually to the way some people wanted to beat around the bush. Arthur just wanted to be told straight.

"Pro'ly," the kid drawls, and Happy nods along, silently pleased with the easy, vague answer that told Happy that Arthur wasn't the type of person to just start yapping about everything to a stranger. He shifts on his bike again.

"You should."

Arthur feels his lips tug into a bit of a frown. He wanted to see their bikes, and he wanted to know more about the MC and how they fit in with Arthur's new home. But he also wasn't too much of a fan of how…pushy these men seemed to be. Every one of them had asked him and his Momma to come by their shop. Once was fine, twice wasn't anything to look at, but…

Even to a teenage idiot from the country, that seemed a little suspicious.

"Y'all got somthin' y'all want from us?" Arthur questions and crosses his arms over his chest, growing a little defensive, "Or is this how ya treat all the newcomers?"

Happy doesn't expect to grunt out a laugh, but the kid has balls, and that makes SAMCRO's enforcer smirk to himself and start his bike again. He doesn't feel the need to say much else to the kid, plus it was fun to keep him guessing. Happy got what he wanted out of him just from this little interaction, and Kozik had been right to bring the run-in to the table.

"Come to the cookout," He orders over the roar of his bike, and then accelerates back down the road, leaving Arthur looking after him with a scowl and wondering how he and his momma had caught the attention of at least three MC members so far.

🌼🌼🌼🗡🗡🌼🌼🌼

Happy doesn't expect to see you two hours later, coming out of the grocery store laden with too many bags to count after he leaves TM. He sees the way you wince when one of the bags knocks into your bad knee, and so he eases his bike into a parking spot. Happy cuts the engine and appears beside you like a ghost, reaching for your bags and grunting in surprise when he receives an elbow to the ribs for his troubles.

He stops and looks at you, lips thinning at the look of fear in your eyes until they take him in, and Happy watches the look of realization cross your face when you spot his kutte. Your shoulders slump, and you huff, frowning heavily at Happy.

"Another one? Are you guys followin' me?"

Happy takes you in. He sees the scar, but that isn't what has his attention. It's the softness around your cheeks and eyes, kind despite the sharp tone that you have used with him. It's the way you hold yourself, different from Gemma but still steady. Firm in your own way.

"No. You need help." He grunts out finally and reaches for your bags again. This time, you let him take them from you.

"Oh, well-" You rush out and blush, feeling useless when the big man just…takes all your groceries and starts walking. You point out your car and pop the trunk, watching him load them with quick efficiency.

He was handsome in a scary kind of way. Tattoos everywhere and muscular. Slimmer than Kozik and Juice, but you thought that just made him feel more dangerous. You lick your lips and force your eyes away from him, cursing yourself for the interest you feel that only grows the more you happen to run into these men.

"Thanks."

Happy grunts and nods along, closing your trunk with a quiet thud and turning to look at you. Kozik and Juice were right about you being pretty, and he feels his hands twitch with the silent urge to touch you. Even if it was something innocent, Happy just wanted to see if you were as soft as you looked.

"No problem," Happy rumbles and tilts his head at you, dark eyes sweeping over you before he takes a half step back and looks away. He didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, and the club still needed to find a way to get you and your son over to the lot.

"What's yer name?" You blurt out and flush a little right after, but it was only polite, and your southern manners demanded that you properly thank the man.

Happy stares. He hadn't expected you to ask, but finds himself quietly pleased that you have. He likes that you don't seem to be afraid to talk to him. Nervous, sure, but even the guys still got nervous around Happy occasionally.

So he shifts his weight and meets kind eyes that make him want to lock you away so that nothing could take that look out of your eyes. It was maddening how easily this woman made something in his chest throb with the primal need to protect.

It almost made Happy uncomfortable, but he'd always been good at rolling with the punches, just like the rest of his brothers.

"Happy."

You cock a brow and then shrug. The kid at the dispensary had been called Juice, so Happy wasn't anything to make a deal of. The name actually made you smile a little at the irony of a man who looked that happy having the name Happy.

"Suits you," You say with a teasing smile, and are witness to the stoic man breaking his stone-like expression to twitch his lips and huff through his nose at your shitty little joke. You feel oddly proud of yourself before you push that feeling away. You still didn't know this man, apart from his affiliation with the Sons of Anarchy MC.

So you clear your throat and offer your hand, expression turning appreciative when he grabs your hand, and you introduce yourself.

"I know."

You laugh a little at the grunted, no-nonsense answer and look up to meet dark eyes that lock with yours and don't look away for even a second. You swallow hard and can't help but admire the intensity that hangs off him like a cloak.

"So you have been talking about us? Me and my son?"

Happy shrugs one shoulder and takes his opportunity to rub his thumb over your knuckles and the back of your hand. You were soft. Soft in a way that only a mother could be. But not like any of the ones he'd come across. Even his own mom was a hardened woman from the life she lived.

"Sometimes," he grunts out, and then squeezes your hand when you happen to look down after he'd touched you, and that same something settles more firmly in his chest when you don't try to pull away. You let his hand linger instead, before gravity caught naturally and your hand fell from his.

"Come to the cookout."

If he hadn't carried your groceries, and if you didn't feel some type of something for these men who kept running into you and Arthur. You would have said maybe and then probably not have shown up. Instead, you find yourself nodding and offering the scary man who helped load up your car a small smile.

She then pulled on a pair of distressed skinny jeans. After she slipped her feet into her favorite brown boots she used the mirror on his door to do her makeup. Her hair was still barely damp, she had used a small blow dryer she insisted on having for the afternoons when he brought her here rather than dropping her at home. She pulled her hair back into a braid and smiled. Her curls would look amazing when she took it out later.

Leaving his dorm she was in a better mood, she walked out to see that Opie had joined his dad and Bobby for a beer. She walked over and greeted him. He’d been down with a cold during her engagement party, it was good to see him up and about again.

“Hey Opie.” She said giving him a hug like usual.

“Hey Sal, sorry I missed the party.” He said with a laugh.

“It’s fine, I think everyone would rather you be healthy.” She teased as he lifted her hand to look at the ring that sat there.

“I swear, how the fuck did you get this romantic shit out of Tig?” He joked.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” She asked with a smirk.

“No thank you,” he laughed, “So Jax was telling me your brothers showed up.”

She rolled her eyes, she knew that would get through the club, it was just the fact of their actions that ticked her off.

“Unfortunately.” She said, “I don’t think they’re gonna be around much longer, they can’t seem to get over my choices.”

“Which ones?” Bobby asked.

“I’m engaged to a biker who is twenty-two years older than me.” She said with a shrug, “And they seemed to take particular offense to his crow.”

The three men rolled their eyes. She grinned before deciding to be petty.

“I don’t think they knew how to react to platonic physical affection.” She shrugged.

“What do you mean?” Piney asked.

“Well, I hugged Gemma and Tara, Clay, Jax, and Juice when we said hello at dinner.” She listed them off, “Oh and Jax like usual pecked my cheek.”

Opie rolled his eyes while the other guys snickered, “Oh wow, you hugged your friends, your family...that’s...scandalous.” He joked.

“Careful you might end up in trouble just throwing out hugs left and right.” Bobby laughed and for emphasis pulled her into one.

She laughed and shook her head as they stepped apart, “I’m shocked they left that house alive.” She admitted.

“They didn’t really say that, did they?” Opie asked, “They did not call you stupid in front of your Old Man.”

She nodded, “I think the only reason they got to walk out of there is he didn’t want to be dealing with any charges two months before our wedding.” She said.

“Definitely.” Piney laughed, “I can only imagine what he would have done if there wasn’t anything important coming up.”

“Personally, I don’t want to imagine it, but...I’ve seen him fight…” she had to fight down the slight flush the memories of him getting in the ring caused.

She talked with the three guys for a bit longer when Juice came into the clubhouse looking flustered. His eyes landed on her and he rushed over.

“Sal!” He exclaimed, breathless.

“Juice, what’s wrong?” Salacia asked, worried that her Old Man had gotten hurt somehow.

“Those two idiots just fucking pulled into the lot.” He said, “Tig hasn’t noticed yet...but if you wanna keep him outta jail you might wanna come out here.”

“Oh for fucks sake!” She said and stormed outside, pushing past her best friend who just laughed, he pitied anyone she was angry at.

She walked outside and noticed the old Impala first. She began to walk over and then Jax saw her from the office, and the look on her face. He saw where she was heading and cursed, rushing to find Tig because this would not end well.

“Do you two have a death wish?!” She said walking over her fists clenched at her sides.

“Why, someone threaten us?” Dean snapped.

“Yeah, me!” She growled, “You made your stances perfectly clear at dinner the other night. You can fucking leave.”

She was one car length away from them. She didn’t want to be any closer. She didn’t think they would hurt her...she just didn’t want to risk losing her own temper with them. She didn’t need to catch a charge over them either.

“Dean shut up.” Sam said before Dean could fire back with more vitriol, “Look, I want to say I'm sorry for calling you stupid. I just don’t get what the hell you’re doing with your life.”

“Living it.” She said simply, “I just don’t get why you decided now was the time to reappear.” She crosses her arms.

She heard Tig storming up behind her and she caught his arm before he could storm past her. She pulled him back beside her.

“Look...Bobby kept us updated on a lot of stuff...but not the full details, obviously. He was always saying that we should try and visit...try and be family...I don’t think we realized how much....” Sam said, unsure of how to phrase wat the wanted to say.

“Changes in almost a decade.” She added and they nodded.

“Look, maybe we can talk, just siblings.” Sam suggested, knowing he was under the harsh glare of the entire club.

“Public.” She said, “No way am I letting either of you in my house again.”

Tig had an arm wrapped around her now, “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” He assured her.

She smiled at him. He was protective. He could be a little possessive. But she was as well. She leaned up and kissed his cheek.

“I want to,” she assured him before looking at her brothers, “We need to have a real talk; we need to finally lay everything out.” She said, “You either need to be willing to hear me out or leave.”

Sam quickly agreed, too quickly for her liking. Dean grumbled before Sam smacked his shoulder to get him to agree. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She was tired of this weird game they were playing.

“Look, we can grab a coffee and go to the park to talk.” She said, “Tomorrow.”

She wanted to relax. Destress after her mid shift. And she said as much.

“Are you sure it’s not so he can coach you on what to say?” Dean growled, making Tig glare.

“Excuse me, what the fuck does that mean?” He snapped and began to stalk forward while Salacia grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“I’m sorry but how the fuck am I supposed to believe my sister is with someone twice her fucking age and have it not be for some weird reason?” Dean snarled.

Salacia was doing her best to keep Tig from killing them. But that was offensive to her too.

“You really think he could manipulate me? If that was true he would have gotten into my pants the night we met.” She rolled her eyes, “I’m not a stupid little girl, Dean!”

She had a death grip on Tig’s arm, he did not need to fight them now.

“Why is he even interested in a girl as young as you anyway? And why are you into a guy our dad’s age? It’s weird.” Sam said.

“God you two are being so pretentious.” Salacia snapped, “I’m going to marry him, it's not just interest anymore. And so what if he’s older than me? For gods sakes, he’s only in his forties, it’s not like I’m fucking a 90 year old.”

“Please at least at that age they wouldn’t be taking advantage of you, they’d be unable to get it up.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Oh please, if there’s one thing I’m not doing it’s taking advantage of my Old Lady.” Tig snarled, “Am I fucking her, of course, often and in any way possible. But she’s into it. She wants to have sex with me. I wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want. I respect my woman. Everybody here respects her too.”

Her brothers looked disgusted at the comments on their sex life.

“I’m sorry but the comments we heard at that dinner didn’t sound very respectful.” Sam said with a bitchface to rival Gemma’s.

“Oh please like you’ve never made a dirty joke before.” Salacia rolled her eyes.

“They were talking about you, though, not just a random joke.” Dean threw back.

“I didn’t feel disrespected, and I think I’m the one who gets to judge that.” She set a hand on her hips, “And I know it wasn’t meant to degrade me…it was poking fun.”

“What, that they’ve heard you have sex? That’s poking fun?” Sam snapped while Dean rolled his eyes.

“Oh my god, yes! Okay. Every person has heard me and Tig in his dorm at least once.” She said, “Jax wasn’t exaggerating. And I’m not embarrassed by it. I got over that a while ago.”

“How can you be okay with that?” Sam asked.

“Okay with what?” Tig asked, “Because if you even suggest it’s something perverted I will beat your ass.”

Her brothers looked at him with the most unamused looks. It was obvious they thought it was objectifying and possessive. Salacia rolled her eyes and said the same thing she did the first time she sassed back when one of the guys commented on the noises and the hickey Tig had left on her the night before.

“Look, I’m not bothered by it because I get loud. My man dicks me down right and I let him know I appreciate it.” She said it so plainly that she could swear she saw the light leave their eyes at the crude statement.

Tig couldn’t help but laugh and pull her close. She was a firecracker. That was something he would never tire of. Chibs and Jax both laughed as well, they’d been the ones to get that line directed at them the first time.

“Look, I’m not the only chick who’s been overheard. It’s just a running joke that I’m loud, alright?” She giggled, “Look, if you want to talk you have to actually be willing to listen. So maybe go back to your motel and really think if you can actually do that, text me later. But, leave. I don’t wanna keep arguing, I should be excited and planning my wedding right now, not shouting at you.”

The two men she had always wanted to be her family for the first time ever sighed and nodded. They knew she was right, but it wasn’t easy for them. She could tell that much.

They went to get back into the Impala but Tig had to get one last dig in, “You better mean it too, if you text her, I am getting tired of you two playing with her emotions like this.”

“Not helping.” She said in a hushed whisper.

Sam and Dean both glared at him but left. She sighed and leaned against Tig rubbing her forehead.

“I’ve got such a headache now, for fucks sake.” She groaned.

Tig kissed her temple, “Go take a nap in my dorm, baby.” He said.

“Sounds good to me.” She breathed and turned her head to kiss his lips.

—

Salacia had done exactly as Tig had suggested and went back to his dorm, took some ibuprofen and curled up for a much needed nap. While the bed here was nowhere near as comfortable as theirs at home, it was perfect. She was falling asleep surrounded by his scent. It was comforting.

Tig got off of work a couple hours later and decided to grab a shower before taking her home. She was fast asleep when he entered his dorm. While the sight of her so comfortable in what used to be only his space warmed his heart. But he was also sad because of all the stress she had been under this past week.

Those two idiots were ruining what was supposed to be a happy time. She was supposed to be planning their small ceremony and shopping for dresses. Buying new lingerie to surprise him for their wedding night.

They should be relaxing every night they could. Taking advantage of the fact that everything in the club was going smoothly.

They should be planning their honeymoon and the new tattoos they planned to get to commemorate their marriage.

She should not be crying and stressing over the siblings that didn’t want to be a part of her life until now. She should not be worrying about the acceptance of people who didn’t feel like she mattered until she was about to get married.

It was moments like earlier that Tig was reminded of how hurt she still was. She had tried for years, even after they met to get them to answer her, to be a family. He remembered holding her as she sobbed when Dean answered the phone one night and told her to stop calling them, they were too busy for her.

He had hated them on principle from that moment on.

He did understand it was hard for her to hate them though. They were her family still, after all.

He sighed and decided to grab his shower before he would wake her up to go home. She needed the rest.

—

The sound and smell of his shower was what woke Salacia up. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. She looked at the clock on the side table, realizing that she had slept past his clock out time. He must have decided to shower before they headed home. She smirked to herself and began to strip her clothes off.

Another shower today wouldn’t hurt. She didn’t take her hair out of the braid though. She knew Tig liked to wrap it around his hands like a leash when he got the chance.

She slipped into the bathroom and leaned against the sink. “Not even gonna invite me to join you, Trager?” She teased him.

He jumped a little lost in his own world until he peeked out and saw his naked fiancée standing there offering the world to him with her eyes.

“Get your fine ass in here.” He growled and stepped aside so she could slip into the small shower stall with him.

Immediately her back met the cool tiles and she pulled him into a kiss. Tig’s hands instantly began to wander her body. She moaned into the kiss and felt the world melting away. Just like she’d hoped for. No matter what happened she knew that she could count on her Old Man to make things better.

Morning sunlight spilled through the clubhouse windows.

Bright.

Warm.

Normal.

She hated how strange normal felt.

Across the room, Letty sat beside Coco, picking at a plate of scrambled eggs she clearly didn't want.

Coco wasn't eating either.

He was watching.

Making sure.

Every few minutes, his eyes drifted toward his daughter.

Checking.

Confirming she was still there.

Lex understood that too.

Since arriving in Santo Padre, Chibs had barely let her out of his sight.

He wasn't hovering.

Wasn't crowding her.

He simply occupied whatever room she happened to be in.

Sometimes reading something on his phone.

Sometimes drinking coffee.

Sometimes saying nothing at all.

But always there.

As though some primitive part of him believed that if he looked away too long, she might disappear again.

The thought made her chest ache.

The clubhouse was quieter that morning.

Not empty.

Just subdued.

Brothers moved in and out. Coffee mugs appeared. Conversations stayed low. Nobody wanted to be the one who shattered whatever fragile peace existed after the night they'd all survived.

Which meant everybody knew Marcus Alvarez would be back.

Even if nobody was saying it.

Yet.

Tig and Happy sat at the bar with coffee mugs in front of them.

Neither man said much.

Neither looked directly at Lex.

Not for long.

But every few minutes, she caught it.

A glance.

Then another.

Then one of them looking quickly away when she noticed.

Her skin began to crawl.

Logically, she knew why.

They had spent weeks looking for her. Weeks not knowing. Weeks imagining every horrible possibility.

But logic didn't matter.

Not when every look felt like being studied.

Observed.

Measured.

Evaluated.

Look at you.

The thought slipped through her head before she could stop it.

Look at what they dragged back.

Lex stared harder into her mug.

The coffee suddenly felt too warm in her hands.

The room began to shrink.

The hum of the refrigerator grew louder. The scrape of a chair across the floor made her flinch. Someone laughed outside near the garage entrance, and the sound hit wrong.

Too sharp.

Too sudden.

Her grip tightened around the mug.

Too much.

Everything felt like too much.

"I need some air."

The words left before she thought about them.

Chibs was already standing.

Of course he was.

A familiar knot tightened in her chest.

She hadn't even been awake five minutes.

Already somebody had to stop what he was doing because of her.

Already somebody had to worry.

Already somebody had to fix something.

She hated that feeling.

The one that said everything around her was suddenly heavier because she was in it.

…

The porch was quiet.

Morning sunlight stretched across the lot, catching on chrome and windshields and the dusty edges of the gravel. A few bikes sat parked in neat rows. Birds chirped somewhere nearby, absurdly cheerful for a world that had no right to sound that peaceful.

The world kept moving.

Like nothing had happened.

Like everything had happened.

Lex lowered herself carefully onto the steps.

Every bruise protested.

Chibs settled beside her.

Not too close.

Not too far.

Just there.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

The silence felt easier out there.

Less crowded.

Less demanding.

Lex stared out across the lot.

"They keep looking at me," she said quietly.

Chibs didn't ask who.

He already knew.

A slow breath left him.

"They spent a while thinkin' ye were dead, lass."

The words hit harder than she expected.

Lex looked down at her hands.

At the angry marks circling both wrists.

Chibs continued quietly.

"They're just tryin' tae convince themselves ye're not."

Her throat tightened.

Because somehow that was worse.

Not the staring.

The reason behind it.

The realization that every time they looked at her, they were checking.

Making sure she was still there.

Making sure she didn't disappear again.

Lex swallowed hard.

"What happened after I..."

Her voice caught.

"...after you realized I was gone?"

Chibs' jaw tightened.

The question clearly hurt.

But he answered anyway.

"We looked."

Simple.

Direct.

"Everywhere."

Lex stared straight ahead.

He kept going.

"We checked yer apartment."

A pause.

"Yer friends."

Another.

"Yer classes."

Lex closed her eyes briefly.

The classes.

The life that had kept moving without her.

The professors.

The projects.

The future.

All of it continuing while she sat in a basement counting cracks in concrete.

"We chased every lead we got."

His voice roughened.

"Some weren't worth a damn."

A humorless smile touched his mouth.

"Tig damn near wore out three bikes."

Despite herself, Lex almost laughed.

Almost.

The image was easy enough to picture.

The smile faded quickly.

But it had been there.

Chibs noticed.

Of course he did.

Neither of them commented on it.

For a moment, they simply sat together and watched sunlight crawl across the lot.

Neither of them noticed the figure watching from inside.

Bishop stood just beyond the doorway with a mug of coffee in hand, leaning against the wall.

Not eavesdropping.

Not intentionally.

Just there.

The conversation carried anyway.

Fragments.

Enough.

He watched Lex stare out across the lot like she was trying to remember how to be a person. Watched Chibs sit beside her without crowding, without pushing, without demanding anything from her.

Just present.

The sight caught him off guard.

Because this wasn't the terrifying SAMCRO president people told stories about.

This was a father.

A tired one.

A scared one.

A man holding himself together with little more than stubbornness and hope.

Lex said something too quiet to hear.

Chibs answered immediately.

No hesitation.

No conditions.

No demands.

And suddenly Bishop understood something.

The reason she never once asked where she was.

She knew.

Deep down.

No matter how long it took.

No matter how bad it got.

Somebody would come.

Her father.

The realization settled heavily.

Because she had been right.

And for the first time since the rescue, Bishop allowed himself to think a dangerous thought.

Maybe she'd survive this.

Not the bruises.

Not the injuries.

The rest of it.

The part that followed people home.

The part that never showed up on X-rays.

The thought lingered as he watched them sitting together in the morning sunlight.

Then Bishop took another sip of coffee and quietly stepped away.

Giving them the one thing they'd both been missing for far too long.

Time.

Marcus arrived just after nine.

No dramatic entrance.

No announcement.

One moment he wasn't there.

The next, he was walking through the clubhouse doors carrying the weight of a conversation nobody wanted to have.

Bishop followed a few minutes later.

Hank.

Taza.

A handful of men whose opinions actually mattered.

Lex's stomach tightened immediately.

Because she knew.

The moment had arrived.

The one she'd felt building since yesterday.

"Lex."

Marcus' voice was gentle.

Gentler than she'd expected.

"Can we talk?"

The room went still.

Not visibly.

But she felt it.

The way conversations died.

The way eyes carefully looked elsewhere.

The way everyone suddenly became very interested in their coffee.

Lex nodded slowly.

"Okay."

A few minutes later, they gathered around one of the larger tables.

Marcus.

Bishop.

Chibs.

Coco.

Lex.

Letty refused to leave.

Nobody made her.

Coco certainly wasn't going to.

So she remained exactly where she was.

Close enough to touch Lex's sleeve if she needed to.

Tig and Happy lingered near the bar.

Not part of the table.

Not far from it either.

No one told them to leave.

No one expected them to.

Marcus folded his hands on the table.

No paperwork.

No files.

No evidence.

Just honesty.

"We need to talk about what's next."

Lex stared into her coffee.

The dark liquid reflected back at her.

Distorted.

Unfamiliar.

Much like everything else.

"The men who took you."

Marcus paused.

Choosing his words carefully.

"We don't know how many are still out there."

Nobody moved.

Nobody interrupted.

"The house wasn't the operation."

A glance toward Bishop.

Then back.

"It was one location."

Lex already knew that.

Instinctively.

You didn't build something like that around a single basement.

Not with the money she'd seen.

Not with the people coming and going.

Not with the confidence Erik carried.

Marcus continued.

"They know your face."

His voice remained calm.

Steady.

"They know Letty's face."

Coco's jaw tightened immediately.

"They know both of you survived."

The room fell silent.

Because that was the heart of it.

Not the rescue.

Not the reunion.

The aftermath.

Chibs shifted beside her.

Barely.

But Lex felt it.

The tension.

The restraint.

The desperate need to put her on a motorcycle and ride until Santo Padre disappeared in the rearview mirror.

She wanted that too.

God help her.

She wanted it desperately.

Home.

Her old room.

Familiar streets.

Safety.

The problem was, she wasn't sure safety existed anymore.

Marcus leaned back slightly.

Then said the thing everyone already knew.

"The safest place for you right now might be here."

The silence that followed stretched.

Long.

Heavy.

Uncomfortable.

Chibs looked like someone had punched him.

Not angry.

Worse.

Heartbroken.

Lex had spent her whole life watching men challenge her father. Watching people disagree with him. Watching him win most of those arguments.

This was different.

Because Marcus wasn't challenging him.

He was asking him to trust someone else with his daughter.

And that might have been harder.

"We can move resources here."

Marcus looked directly at Chibs.

"We can coordinate with SAMCRO."

A pause.

"We can hunt every son of a bitch connected to this."

The temperature in the room dropped.

Just slightly.

Because everyone believed him.

Every word.

Then Marcus looked back at Lex.

And everything changed.

Because suddenly nobody cared what Marcus wanted.

Or Chibs.

Or Bishop.

Or Coco.

Only her.

"What do you want, Lex?"

The question landed differently than it would have an hour earlier.

Not easy.

Not harmless.

But less impossible.

Because she had spent the morning thinking about it.

Thinking about the porch.

Thinking about the basement.

Thinking about all the reasons she wanted to go home.

And all the reasons she couldn't.

Lex set her coffee down carefully.

The mug rattled softly against the table.

Nobody commented.

Nobody looked away.

"If I go back to Charming right now..."

Her voice sounded small.

But steady.

The room remained silent.

Listening.

Lex looked down at her hands.

The angry red marks now scabbing over.

Healing skin.

Proof.

Her thumb brushed absently across one of them.

Searching for words.

Trying to untangle thoughts that had been chasing each other around her head since she'd opened her eyes that morning.

"If I go back..."

She swallowed.

"Everybody's going to know."

Her eyes lifted.

Not settling on anyone.

Just the room.

"The police."

A pause.

"Neighbors."

Another.

"People from school."

Her throat tightened.

"Reporters."

She gave a small, humorless laugh.

“They're all going to want answers."

Silence waited.

Patient.

"I can't tell them."

The words came barely above a whisper.

"I can't tell anybody."

A glance toward Marcus.

Then Bishop.

Then her father.

"The people involved in this..."

She stopped.

Closed her eyes for just a second.

Forced herself onward.

"...they don't know where I am."

Her stomach twisted.

Just saying it out loud made it feel more real.

"They think I'm still missing."

Nobody interrupted.

The silence deepened.

Completely.

Lex looked around the table.

At men who had spent their entire lives protecting people.

Men who risked everything for family.

For brothers.

For strangers.

Men who had already done more for her than they ever had to.

But none of that mattered.

Not really.

Because Letty wouldn't look at her.

Not once.

She sat beside Coco, quietly picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of her borrowed sweatshirt.

Every time Lex's eyes drifted toward her, Letty found somewhere else to look.

The table.

The floor.

The wall.

Anywhere but Lex.

And suddenly she understood.

Letty thought she was leaving.

The realization landed hard.

Because somewhere in that basement, Letty had become important.

Not because they had planned it.

Not because either of them wanted it.

Because survival didn't ask permission.

Lex watched the younger girl for another long moment.

Then looked back toward Marcus.

“If I come home..."

She hesitated.

"They don't just find me."

Her gaze shifted to Chibs.

Then slowly around the room.

"They find my dad."

Another beat.

"They find SAMCRO."

She looked toward Marcus again.

"They find Santo Padre."

The words hung there.

Heavy.

Real.

"They'll start asking who found me."

"Who hid me."

"Who helped me."

A slow breath.

"And if the wrong people hear the answers..."

She didn't finish.

She didn't have to.

Every man at that table already knew the rest.

The room stayed quiet.

Thinking.

Calculating.

Following.

Lex drew in another breath.

"If I stay hidden..."

The words came with more certainty now.

"They have nothing."

Another silence.

This one different.

Not uncertainty.

Acceptance.

"If staying hidden keeps everyone safe..."

She held the breath for just a second.

Then let it go.

"Then I stay."

The words settled heavily across the room.

Nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

Across the bar, Hank lowered his gaze.

Coco exhaled quietly.

Even Bishop's expression shifted.

The smallest crack in the armor.

Beside her, Chibs went completely still.

And somehow that was the hardest part.

Because Lex knew exactly what he was thinking.

That she should be thinking about herself.

That she should be angry.

That she should want to go home.

Instead…

she was trying to protect everyone else.

The room fell silent.

Tig studied her from across the room.

Really studied her.

Not the bruises.

Not the swollen eye.

Not the marks around her wrists.

Those made something ugly twist in his gut every time he saw them.

Instead, he saw the kid who used to steal fries off his plate. The teenager who never learned how to mind her own damn business. The stubborn little pain in the ass who worried about everyone else before herself.

The girl who cried when a stray dog got hit on the highway.

The one who somehow convinced half the charter to help bury a bird she'd found in the parking lot because she thought it deserved a funeral.

He remembered Chibs bitching the entire time.

Then digging the hole himself.

Tig's chest tightened.

Because after everything…

After the basement.

After the chains.

After whatever those bastards did to her…

She was still doing it.

Still trying to protect everybody else.

Still carrying weight that wasn't hers.

Still putting herself last.

And suddenly, there she was.

Not the girl they dragged out of a basement.

Not the victim.

Not the witness.

Lex.

Still stubborn.

Still selfless.

Still herself.

Jesus Christ.

She was so much her father's daughter it hurt.

The silence stretched before he spoke.

"Kid's right."

Every head turned.

Tig shrugged immediately.

Already regretting speaking.

"Hate it."

A pause.

"Still right."

Chibs' eyes lifted.

Locked onto Tig.

For a moment, neither man said anything.

They didn't need to.

Twenty years of friendship had taught them how to communicate without words.

Tig didn't look away.

And suddenly Chibs understood.

Not the argument.

Not the strategy.

Not the decision.

What Tig saw.

The same thing he'd been too close to see himself.

Not the bruises.

Not the injuries.

Not the damage.

His daughter.

Still sitting there worrying about everyone else.

Still trying to protect people.

Still carrying responsibilities that didn't belong to her.

Just like she always had.

There she is.

The realization hit harder than he expected.

Harder than the anger.

Harder than the fear.

His jaw tightened.

His eyes burned unexpectedly.

He looked away first.

Because if he didn't, he was liable to embarrass himself in front of an entire room full of Mayans.

The room went silent again.

Nobody argued.

Nobody tried to change her mind.

For a second, Lex waited for the familiar feeling.

The certainty that she'd made the wrong choice.

That someone would tell her she was selfish.

Difficult.

Stupid.

Nothing came.

Just silence.

And the strange realization that nobody in this room was angry with her.

Beside her, Chibs closed his eyes briefly.

The movement was small.

Almost invisible.

But Lex saw it.

She saw the war happening behind it.

The father who wanted to take her home.

The president who knew why he couldn't.

The man trying desperately to respect a choice after a month of choices being stolen from her.

When he opened his eyes again, he nodded once.

Sharp.

Certain.

Acceptance.

Not because he liked the decision.

Because he was respecting it.

Because it was hers.

"Alright, lass."

This time, Letty looked up.

For the first time all morning.

Her eyes met Lex's.

Wide.

Hopeful.

Disbelieving.

Like she hadn't let herself hope for this.

Like she'd already started preparing for goodbye.

Something in Lex's chest loosened.

Just a little.

And somehow, that made the decision feel right.

------

PART 16

Lex is asleep.

Then she isn't.

Then she's somewhere in between.

Caught.

The basement rises around her in pieces.

Concrete.

Darkness.

The smell of mildew soaked into stone.

The metallic drag of the chain across the floor.

Her pulse spikes instantly.

Because she knows this part.

Knows it down to the marrow of her bones.

The footsteps come next.

Slow.

Measured.

Descending.

Every step closer than the last.

The sound echoes through the darkness.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Her wrists ache.

The phantom sensation of metal biting into skin.

The certainty that she cannot run.

Cannot hide.

Cannot fight.

The door opens.

Light spills down the stairs.

A silhouette fills the frame.

Tall.

Broad-shouldered.

Male.

For one impossible heartbeat, hope surges through her.

Dad.

The thought arrives bright and desperate.

So desperate it hurts.

Then the figure moves.

And smiles.

Erik.

Lex came awake with a strangled gasp.

The sound ripped out of her before she could stop it.

Her body jerked upright.

Pain exploded through her ribs.

The room spun violently.

For one terrible second she couldn't tell where she was.

Basement.

No.

Clubhouse.

Basement.

No.

The darkness pressed too close.

Her lungs locked.

Air refused to come.

Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs until she was certain everyone in the room could hear it.

She pressed both hands against the mattress.

Trying to anchor herself.

Trying to remember.

Trying to breathe.

Across the room, blankets rustled.

"Lex?"

Letty.

Sleep roughened the girl's voice.

Gone in an instant.

Replaced by alarm.

Lex couldn't answer.

Her throat had closed.

The panic was already climbing.

Fast.

Merciless.

The kind that didn't care what was real.

The kind that dragged the past into the present and demanded she survive it all over again.

A chair scraped outside the door.

Sharp.

Immediate.

Then footsteps.

Fast.

The door opened.

Chibs was already moving before she fully registered who it was.

One second he was in the hallway.

The next he was crouched beside the bunk.

Not touching.

Not crowding.

Just there.

Close enough if she needed him.

Far enough if she didn't.

"Lex."

Her name.

Soft.

Careful.

The same voice that used to chase nightmares away when she was little.

She couldn't answer.

Couldn't seem to convince her lungs to cooperate.

The panic kept squeezing tighter.

Chibs' expression changed.

Not dramatically.

Just enough.

Fear.

Real fear.

Because fathers know.

They know when something is wrong with their children.

No matter how old those children become.

"Look at me, lass."

His voice remained low.

Steady.

A handhold in rough water.

"Come on."

Lex forced herself to lift her eyes.

The effort felt impossible.

His gaze found hers immediately.

Solid.

Unmoving.

Real.

"That's it."

He waited until she managed another breath.

"You're here."

Another.

"You're safe."

The words should have sounded ridiculous.

Safe.

After everything.

After weeks.

After chains.

But somehow they didn't.

Because they were coming from him.

Because if anyone in the world could make her believe that word again...

It was her father.

Movement appeared in the doorway.

Bishop.

Then Coco.

Neither man entered.

Neither intruded.

They simply appeared.

Quiet sentries standing watch without ever making themselves part of the moment.

Coco's attention shifted immediately toward Letty.

The girl was sitting upright now, blanket gathered tightly in both fists.

Eyes huge in the dim light.

Fear written across every inch of her face.

Not fear for herself.

For Lex.

Gradually...

Painfully...

The panic began to loosen.

Not disappear.

Just retreat.

One inch at a time.

The room returned in fragments.

The lamp glowing softly in the corner.

The blanket tangled around her legs.

The rough wooden walls of the bunk room.

The smell of coffee and leather drifting faintly through the clubhouse.

Not mildew.

Not bleach.

Not fear.

Home.

Or something close enough to it.

Chibs remained exactly where he was.

Patient.

Unmoving.

Never demanding more than she could give.

Eventually her breathing evened out.

Not normal.

Better.

Enough.

Silence settled over the room.

Not awkward.

Not empty.

Protective.

Then Chibs cleared his throat.

"You used tae sleepwalk."

Lex blinked.

"What?"

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

The first she'd seen since arriving.

"Aye."

His eyes softened with memory.

"When ye were six."

Lex stared at him.

“..no.”

"Every damn week."

The response came immediately.

Automatic.

Almost offended.

Across the doorway, Bishop suddenly looked far too interested in the conversation.

Which meant he was absolutely listening.

Watching Lex's eyes focus.

Watching them settle on Chibs like a lifeline.

"One night ye made it all the way tae the kitchen."

"...what-"

"Climbed onto a chair."

"No."

"Started makin' pancakes."

Coco made a choking sound that suspiciously resembled laughter.

Letty's eyes widened.

Lex wanted to disappear.

Immediately.

The feeling was so foreign she almost didn't recognize it.

Embarrassment.

Real, ordinary embarrassment.

Not fear.

Not shame.

Just the universal horror of a parent telling childhood stories.

"There she is."

The words were quiet.

Almost too quiet to hear.

But she heard them.

The teasing.

The affection.

The overwhelming relief hidden underneath.

And somehow that hurt worse than the nightmare.

Because...

She sounded like herself.

Even if only for a second.

Across the room, Letty laughed.

A small sound.

Gone almost immediately.

Still real.

The tension in the room fractured.

Not completely.

Enough.

Enough for everyone to breathe again.

Enough for the darkness to retreat a little farther.

Later, Bishop returned carrying a mug.

"Coffee."

Lex accepted it without argument.

The warmth seeped into her hands immediately.

Grounding.

Steadying.

The rich smell curled upward with the steam, familiar enough to remind her there had once been mornings that began with sketchbooks and cafés instead of survival.

Across from her, Letty sat wrapped in a blanket with a mug of hot chocolate Coco had somehow managed to produce in the middle of the night.

Nobody questioned it.

Nobody wanted to know.

Some things simply appeared when fathers were involved.

The clubhouse settled around them.

Quiet.

Watchful.

Safe.

For tonight, at least.

Outside, motorcycles sat cooling beneath the stars.

Inside, nobody admitted they were keeping watch over one another.

Nobody had to.

Lex wrapped both hands around the mug, letting the warmth chase away the last lingering tremors in her fingers.

She realized something.

The thought slipped in so quietly she almost missed it.

She was no longer facing the dark alone.

------

PART 15