#soa request

It’s just the two of them out here. They were on a courtesy visit to a brother charter in Oregan, Samlin’s VP having recently passed and Samcro was expected to show respect. Knowing no help would be coming at this hour Tig crouches down assessing any visible damage. Still listening to Tig’s muttered curses Juice glances up, less than half a mile up the road lies a motel. Nudging the sergeant Tig looks up too and Juice can almost hear his train of thought. On the one hand he didn’t want to spend the night on the freezing road fending off local wildlife, on the other he didn’t want to spend it locked in a questionably unhygienic room with Juice. 

‘’We could get two rooms.’’ That line and the promise of a luke warm meal won out. Tig pulls the bike upright and they roll it carefully down the road. Chaining it outside the building Tig doesn’t fret over it being stolen, the symbol of the reaper and consequential threat of the Sons tended to keep potential thieves away. Juice mustn’t have the same faith, Tig watches him yank at the chain a couple of times before they head inside.  

Seeing the interior doesn’t give either of them any optimism about the state of their rooms. In the reception the wallpaper has yellowed from years of smokers and a vibrant stain, that looks concerningly like blood, covers a good chunk of the flooring. When Tig walks to the desk he can hear a ripping sound as his boots pull away from the sticky floor.  

The receptionist is a guy around Juice’s age, tattoos covering his arms and his hair dyed an alarming bright colour. In his head Tig muses that it won’t be long till Juice has the same idea. The boy eyes their kuttes nervously before he speaks, ‘’How can I help you?’’ 

Glancing at the ‘cash only’ sign on the back wall Tig pulls out his wallet, smacking a few bills on the desk he answers, ‘’Two rooms.’’ Tig gets a bad feeling when the guy looks down at his clip board. 

‘’Sorry only one room left.’’ Tig can feel the migraine Juice is going to cause already forming. Apparently trying to help the guy adds on, ‘’It’s a double bed.’’ 

Taking half the cash Tig tries to look on the bright side. ‘’Your kitchen still open?’’ 

‘’No it’s closed for the week. We’ve got a vending machine and sandwiches though.’’ 

Tig should have taken his chance with the wildlife. 

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

Walking in first, Tig dumps his bag on the bed before he reluctantly looks around. The faded wallpaper’s torn and peeling at the edges, the carpet is suffering from a range of cigarette burns but Tig will readily admit he’s willingly stayed in worse shit holes than this. The bed proves to be the worst feature of the room, the spring jab uncomfortably outward and the cover lays crumpled in the middle undoubtably riddled with strangers’ bacteria and bodily fluids. 

The only saving grace he can think of was the bar they passed on the way up, a stones throw away, connected to the reception via a short hallway. Tig can see the thought process behind keeping the bar open all night. There’s little need to improve the place when you can just pile cheap alcohol on customers until they don’t care about the rancid smell hanging in the air or the mold flourishing in every corner. 

Juice is still in the doorway, staring at the room with a grimace. Tigs seen the way he cleans the clubhouse, some niggling compulsion always present that whispering for him to bring order to the chaos around them. The urge is like an ich that needs to be scratched getting progressively worse the more its ignored. His obsession with cleanliness and organisation stemmed from OCD Chibs had once informed him. Tig doesn’t know if the boy had told him outright or if that information was gained from Juice’s behaviour mixed with Telford’s limited medical knowledge. 

‘’I’m gonna head to the bar. You coming down?’’  

‘’No. I’m going to stay. Clean up a bit.’’ 

‘’I’ll see you in a couple hours.’’ 

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

He spent the next hour staring at the back wall of the bar, his eyes tracing over the bikini clad model staring back from their calendar. The sight of it reminds him of how far from home they are, this time at the clubhouse he’d been lied between two blondes in the backroom. Instead of in a motel with Juice.  Still it's not all bad there’s a cold beer clasped in his hand, and the hum of voices behind him talking about the game works as comforting white noise.  

//////////////////////////////////////////////

Only when Tig has consumed enough vodka to stop the heart of a lesser man does he stumble back to their room. When he gets there, it's clear there's been a nominal improvement to its state. The floors been swept, any reachable mold has been banished and the bed covers have been stripped, a variety of cleaning supplies sits in the corner of the room.  Juice lies in the middle of the bed now in sweatpants and a loose shirt, Tigs entrance having just woken him up.  

‘’Where’d you get that from.’’ Tig asks nodding to the corner.  

‘’Cupboard down the hall.’’ His mind still saturated in sleep Juice mumbles the last line, ‘’I picked the lock.’’ 

Tig lets out a laugh at the metal imagery that inspires; Juice sneaking down the corridor like a Puerto Rican James Bond, running back with a mop and spray bottles under his arm. Deciding to try and have some fun he puts on his best sergeant at arms voice, wondering if could still could still scare the kid like when he was a mere prospect, Tig asks,’’ And when they check the security footage and kick us out. What do we do then?’’ 

Juice smirks at that, ‘’No cameras.’’ He’s braver than when he was a prospect, back then Tig’s tone would have sent him out he room with his tail tucked between his legs. 

Shedding his kutte, and shirt Tig folds them onto the wardrobe before he lies on the bed his feet on the bottom bars. Even at night there's a thick humidity hanging in the air and what Tig wouldn’t give to hear the clanging of an old AC working its magic, keeping them awake all night. Unfortunately, like everything else in the motel it’s fallen into a state of disrepair. They were left with holding the small widow open with the motel’s complimentary bible.  

Tilting his head back and closing his eyes, Tig tries to implement his plan of trying to get some shut eye and then setting off at first light. When he’s reached the divide between dreams and consciousness it starts up, a tap, tap, tap that immediately sets his nerves on edge and chases away any dreariness. Juice at least looks a little guilty when Tig glares at him, and manages to stop his tapping. Though maybe Tig should be careful what he wished for because that’s when the talking started.  

‘’Don’t the germs bother you?’’ 

‘’You don’t know if there’s any germs.’’ And Tig know that’s true, he’d forbidden Juice from using his UV light after what happened last time. After seeing the state of the stripped mattress he’d not wanted to stay in a motel for months, Juice had slept on the bikes that night. 

Tig still can’t believe he’d been roped into taking the boy along, he himself had been chosen to go to pay their respects to their Oregan charter whilst Juice was strong armed into the journey by Chibs. Tig figures he’s just trying to clear the air between his two brothers after the Doberman incident. Fat chance of that happening. He’ll always have the scar on his ass reminding him of the fact Juice is a complete idiot.  

‘’Look just watch some TV and let me sleep.’’ Tig implored, ‘’It even said outside that they have coloured TVs.’’ 

‘’Nah only the premium rooms have colour TVs.’’ 

‘’Should have known they’d be a fine print.’’, Tig quips back. When the tapping starts back up again he finally snaps, ‘’Alright what do you want?’’ 

‘’You know I was listening to this radio drama, 36 Questions.’’ Juice ignores Tig’s scoff at that. ‘’It had this game in it. Where this couple asked each other-’’ 

‘’Let me guess, 36 Questions?’’ interjects Tig. 

‘’Yeah. I could get it up on my phone. We could- 

‘’Bond? Is this how you and Chibby got so close? You stayed up into the night braiding each others hair and sharing secrets and crushes.’’  

Juice cuts him off before he can continue. ‘’Come on man. It would at least pass the time?’’  

Tomorrow Tig will say he only agreed due to the number of vodka shots clogging up his brain and stealing all his sensibilities. ‘’I'm not doing them all. Pick wisely, kid.’’ Juice smiles wide, hint of mischief lighting it up. For a second Tig almost feels apprehensive about what's about to happen. 

‘’Alright I’ll start off easy. Before making a phone call, do you ever think about what you’re going to say?’’ 

‘’No. I’ve got something to say I’ll just say it.’’ Tugging the phone out of Juice’s hand Tig takes a moment to scroll through the questions before settling on one. ‘’Tell me an embarrassing moment from your life.”  

Really Juice should have known that would be the one he picked. Most of these moments have happened whilst he was prospecting for the club, plenty courtesy of Tig's mean streak. The memory of being left in the town square and forced to walked back to the clubhouse in only a diaper is a vivid one. Face heating up Juice says ‘’I think you already know it.’’ 

Tig crackles at that, ‘’Yeah, I do. Just wanted to remind you of it.’’ 

‘’How did you even think of that?’’  

‘’It just comes to me in the moment, like a vision from a spiteful deity.’’  

Even with a red shade brightening his cheeks Juice manages to let out a chuckle. He’s always been able to laugh at himself, which was fortunate as Tig’s tormenting nature hadn’t been deterred when Juice was finally patched in.  

At the time he hadn’t found the situation funny, with it being a sunny summer day and all of Charming apparently had decided to go to the square. When he arrived back to the clubhouse half an hour later he was still burning from the horrified looks, insults, and laughter. Luckily Chibs had more mercy in him after the other guys and after spending a good five minutes laughing at Juice’s expense, he’d pulled some spare cloths from the back and driven him home. 

Pulling back his phone Juice glances down. ‘’When did you last sing? Either to yourself or someone else.’’ 

Tig doesn’t say anything and Juice starts to think he isn’t going to, ‘’For my daughters when they were young. Back when I used to live with them and Coleen... It's been years though. Dawn she would ask me to every night, and I did. But that was years ago. Way before Chibs dragged you to our doorstep. Then when they were about seven and ten we were having an issue with the Mayans. Bodies were dropping every other week, I was out most nights burying them in a desert graves. Eventually I got home one day and they were gone. Colleen had packed up in the night and left with the girls.’’ 

'’Sorry Tig. I didn’t know.’’ 

‘’Yeah. Well I still see them every year at least.’’ Juice offers the phone out to him. ‘’Alright, er If you could wake up tomorrow with any quality or ability what would it be?’’ 

Juice smiles nervously at Tig’s question, ‘’You’re not allowed to mock me for this. 

‘’I’m probably gonna to but continue.’’ 

 ‘’I don’t... I’d like to be a little more... I’d like to be a little smarter. More like you or Chibs.’’ 

‘’Come on you’re our hacker you’ve got brains even if you don’t always use them.’’ Tig was surprised that he had just said that, it was even more surprising that he had meant it.  

‘’Not that kind of smart. I’d like to just...’’ 

‘’Have more common sense?’’ Tig jibs back 

‘’Now you are mocking me. But yes exactly.’’ 

Showing some out of character kindness Tig tells him that he’ll get there eventually. ‘’Comes with experience.’’  

Tig doesn’t have a chance to pass back the phone, clearly Juice has had this in his head for a while. ‘’I think I know the answer but if you lived to 90 and could keep the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want? 

‘’The body. My back was bad enough at forty can’t imagine the pain of riding at ninety.’’ 

‘’I don’t know how Piney does it.’’ Juice joked. The phones still in Tigs hand and they both glance at it before Juice then suggests ‘’Last one for the night?’’ 

‘’Sure, why'd you come here.’’ Tig asks. 

‘’That’s not one of the questions.’’ 

‘’It’s the one I'm asking’’ 

‘’I got into trouble with a gang in Queens’’ 

‘’What kind of trouble?’’ Tig asks. He already knows some parts of the story. When Chibs had brought a kid to the clubhouse, with bruised knuckles and a skittish gaze Tig had been assigned the job of background checks. According to their NY charter he was a small time hacker no one they’d had to worry about or even personally met. A couple of weeks before Chibs had found him word had gone around the that Juice had a high price on his head courtesy of a growing Queens gang. He was safe as a prospect of the Sons and even more so when he put on the reaper. When the gang had found out no payback had come the Sons were bigger and more willing to get violent. Still they wouldn’t risk sending back to New York for any reason.  

‘’I’d spent a few years in juvie, just for petty shit. When I got out I struggled to get a job. Some guy I knew hired me to skim some money off a local crew. I was meant to get 40%, instead he kept the money and ratted me out. Chibs found me outside of a bar in Lodi. Some guys had cornered me, wanted to drag me back and collect the bounty. They backed off when they saw the reaper. His voice is quiet when he fills in the blanks of Tig’s version of the story. 

‘’I’m glad he did. The club would miss you if you weren’t here Kid.’’ 

‘’You would too?’’ 

‘’Don’t push your luck.’’ 

Juice sits the phone on the bedside table after that, the silence feels comfortable now. In the darkness of the room, no longer lit up by the glow of his phone, Juice feels his eye getting heavier, his breath evening out 

Just before sleep takes him Tig breaths out, ‘’You know I didn’t think 36 questions was that bad of a podcast.’’ 

Juice pulls himself up onto his elbows at that, ‘’You’ve listened to it too!’’ 

//////////// 

The next morning they rise before the sun. The beeping of Juice’s phone waking Tig first, getting out of bed he’s sure to elbow the sleeping form next to him. It goes without saying that they won’t mention the previous night again.  

Once they’ve reached their destination they stay in Oregan for a couple of days after the funeral, helping out whilst the charter gets back on its feet. For Juice the days are spent standing guard over the charter’s women and children. Tig’s more involved, going between office rooms with their Oregan brothers, talking in hushed whispers about topics he refuses to share with Juice. On one of the days he catches Juice kicking his heels inside the clubhouse, a baby in one arm and various children gathered at his feet, he makes sure to snap a photo planning on showing it to Chibs as soon as he can. He’d send it now but he’d never gotten his head around modern phones and Juice was his go to tech guy.  

After a few days they’re riding back to Redwood, Tig having told them to phone if they needed support. On the journey back Juice grins when they pass by a familiar building, though neither of them considers staying another night.  

When they get back to Charming business continues as usual. Tig is still more than willing to tease and torment and Juice still remains his favourite victim but it feels more brotherly than spiteful now, like a kid playfully bullying his youngest sibling. His attention is diverted after they’ve been back at redwood for six months. They’d gained another hang around whilst they’d been gone and Chibs had finally decided to sponsor him, Tig took that as proof he had been suffering from empty nest syndrome since Juice had been patched. 

Tig had found absolute delight in there being fresh meat to pick on. To Juice it’s a familiar hazing they put the prospect through, and he made it just as easy as Juice did. He’s got mad ginger hair, half a set of balls and half a brain. He’s just grateful that for the most part Tig’s taunting had been directed at someone else.  

Chibs notices the changed dynamic quickly, and slides up to him one night to tell him, ‘’I’m glad you worked two things out, Laddie.’’ 

“And then we saw this one puppy with one eye and he was so nice mommy I named him Bob because he looked like a Bob.” Your son said, you nodded your head and kept hold of the cart while he jumped back on.

“I have told you multiple times sweetie.  Please do not jump off the cart.  Either stay on or stay off, you could get hurt.”  Just as you finished speaking, your cart rammed into the stop sign, causing the eggs to topple out of top of the cart along with the bag of apples you could have sworn you tied shut.  “God damn it!”  You felt your eyes prickling as you tried to take a deep breath around the blockage in your throat.

“Momma, you said a bad language word!”  Owen jumped on and off the cart again, narrowly missing the splattered eggs on the ground. You took a deep breath to stop yourself from screaming, the sugar in his system would wear off but screaming at him in public wouldn’t sit well on either of your minds for days.

“Hey, little man, did I hear you saw a puppy today?”  You whipped your head around to see a tall blond man white a bright smile stop beside you.  His sunglasses were hanging around his neck and when he kneeled down, your eyes widened slightly.  You hadn’t seen this man before but that grim reaper on his back was well known in Charming.

“Yeah!  I went to a doggie place with my daddy and saw one and named him Bob.  The nice lady at the doggie place said his eye got eatted by fleas.”  Your son said.  You couldn’t help the small chuckle when you saw the blond man grimace.  He looked up at you and smiled.

“That sounds kind of gross, little man.”  

“It is but he’s all better now cause people helped him and his eyes all gone so the bad stuff is gone.”  Owen smiled and hopped over the eggs and apples on the ground, grabbing your hand. “This is my mommy, (Y/N).”  You bite your lip and smile, shaking your head at your son’s confidence.

“I’m Kozik.  Herman Kozik actually.”  He held out his broad hand with rings on the last two fingers.  You glanced quickly over his tattoos and grip his hand in yours.

“Nice to meet you.”  You said.

“Now buddy,” Herman got down on his knee again to be at face level with your son, “your mom has a lot to do and a whole bunch of stuff going around in her head so maybe calm it down on the sugar and listen to her, ok?  She’s a pretty lady even when she looks like she might lose her mind.”  Herman smiled up at you when he said that causing you to roll your eyes but laugh anyway.

----------------

That was about a year ago.  You still weren’t sure how Kozik had gotten your number but the first date you had was enough to make up for it.  Seeing the bad ass SAMCRO biker at the zoo, holding your hand and listening to Owen as he told Kozik all about the animals was the perfect start to the weird ass relationship.  He moved in within a couple months which was fast but any time he was in Charming, you wanted him by you.  He would visit Tacoma often and go on runs with SAMCRO but then always come home to you.

Owen adapted a hell of a lot quicker than you would have thought he would, taking to calling Herman “kozie”, never fully getting the final K out before his story of the moment would take off.  Kozik always payed attention, providing his own input in the stories or asking questions whenever there was a small pause from Owen to “make sure Kozie was listening”.  

“Dick head hasn’t been taking up on his weekends lately, what’s up with that?”  Kozik slid his hands around your waist as you brushed your teeth before bed, listening for the other room as Owen tried to sing and brush at the same time.

“Don’t call him that.  He’s just decided he wanted out of the picture, he’ll send child support but he said Owen has gotten too much for him.”  You rolled your eyes after spitting in the sink and Kozik scuffed behind you.

“Fuck him.”

“Herman—”

“No, honestly, fuck him.  Owen is a fucking smart ass kid and he knows all of his shit and he fucking listens to what you say.  That dude is a dick and missing out on one of the coolest kids ever.  So fuck him.”  Kozik finished and let out a long breath.  You turn around and run your nails through his hair as he sighed, not meeting your eyes.

“You have paid more attention to him in this past year than ‘dick head’ has in his whole life.  I’m glad he’s done.”  Your lips press against his for a few seconds and he pulled back, looking into your eyes.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with him.  I can send SAMCRO after him if you want.”  Kozik’s famous smirk started on his lips, erupting a giggle out of you.

“Maybe someday.”  You stick your tongue out which causes him to chuckle.

“Mommy?  Can I call him Daddy now?”  Owen said from the doorway, his dinosaur pjs Kozik got him for his fifth birthday were the only things he wore to bed for the last week.  Kozik’s eyes widened and his grip on your hips tightened.  You felt your lips pull into a smile as you nodded.

“You call him whatever you want, as long as he approves.”

“Hell yeah, little man.”  Kozik said and winced.

“Language!”  You laughed and hit his chest lightly.  “You still gotta call him Kozie though, Tig will be so upset if he becomes the only one to call him that.”

“Daddy Kozie.  Okie dokie.” Owen jumped over to the two and hugged them both around the knees quickly before sprinting off to bed, calling over his shoulder, “night momma and daddy kozie!”

“That’s never going to get past Tig.”  Kozik sighed but smiled into your neck.