Tara Knowles (
drownedindreams) wrote2014-01-25 07:02 am
Entry tags:
Waking up is hard to do.
When Tara finally fell asleep, she started dreaming almost immediately. It was because she hadn't been sleeping, her brain was desperately trying to process all of the things she'd done in the last week. She awoke with a start and a gasp, completely disoriented. She had no idea what time it was, where she was - nothing.
She was curled up next to Jax who was on his back, and she pulled in a breath, her eyes searching in the darkness, looking to see if there were scars from when he'd been in prison or the myriad of scars he'd just picked up since he'd left Belfast. Featherlight fingers skimmed the skin that was smooth and even, and she pulled in a breath, and bent to press a kiss to his chest.
She pulled in another breath, and slipped from bed, padding to his dresser, and pulling one of his shirts over her head, and after a minute of searching she managed to find the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror under the harsh lighting from the ceiling. Her eyes were swollen from crying, her neck reddened from the scrape of his beard from last night, and she washed her face, coming back to bed after she'd recentered herself.
She wasn't expecting him to be awake, and she slipped back into bed, her voice quiet. "Hey, I didn't mean to wake you." She knew that they needed to talk, and before they got caught up in the boys, they should take this time to do it.
She was curled up next to Jax who was on his back, and she pulled in a breath, her eyes searching in the darkness, looking to see if there were scars from when he'd been in prison or the myriad of scars he'd just picked up since he'd left Belfast. Featherlight fingers skimmed the skin that was smooth and even, and she pulled in a breath, and bent to press a kiss to his chest.
She pulled in another breath, and slipped from bed, padding to his dresser, and pulling one of his shirts over her head, and after a minute of searching she managed to find the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror under the harsh lighting from the ceiling. Her eyes were swollen from crying, her neck reddened from the scrape of his beard from last night, and she washed her face, coming back to bed after she'd recentered herself.
She wasn't expecting him to be awake, and she slipped back into bed, her voice quiet. "Hey, I didn't mean to wake you." She knew that they needed to talk, and before they got caught up in the boys, they should take this time to do it.

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She would carry that burden, for him. She loved him enough she didn't want him haunted by ghosts, even if some of them lived in her nightmares.
"You tried," she said lowly. "You tried. You tried over and over to get the club out of this, you kept saying we'd leave, but it just- it ate you up, Jax. It ate you and me, and it destroyed everything. It was the Irish and the Niners and Pope and the Chinese and the guys in Stockton and I just- I watched it eat everything." She bit her lower lip hard, looking away. "I thought that what we have was stronger than the pull of it, but it just swallowed me up, too."
Her eyes found his. "I did what I had to do." She looked haunted, when she told him that. "Otto killed a nurse in prison, using a cross that he asked me for from Luanne. They said I did it on purpose, and I'm an accessory to murder." She said it lowly, not looking at him anymore, because she was trying to hold herself together. "The DA offered me a deal." Her eyes flicked to his. "And I have the thing that would have given her the club, but I didn't- I just... ran. I ran, Jax."
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Just as soon as his anger simmered up, it flowed away and Jax closed his eyes, rubbing the heels of his hands into them. "You should've never gone to prison. That...that's not you." Tara was the good one, the reason for him to drag himself out not for him to drag her down.
And there were all these ghosts on her and she wouldn't let him have the burden and Jax sighed, closing his eyes and holding her tight.
"Shit...We'll figure this out."
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She covered her face with her hands, shaking her head. "I didn't rat, Jax. I should have, but I didn't. Even though I wanted to save our sons, I didn't rat, which I don't know what the hell that says about me." She looked away when he said she shouldn't have gone to prison. "We needed Otto," she finally said, lowly. "We needed Otto, and so I went to the prison, as a volunteer doctor. She died, Jax, because I brought in the cross. I didn't know-" She shook her head slightly. "I didn't know, but that doesn't mean I'm not responsible. They were saying it was on purpose. Pre-meditated. 5-7."
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"Why did we need Otto. I thought we..." He shook his head again and leaned forward, cupping Tara's face in his hands.
"It sounds so fucked up." And he knows too, knows that they'd both done anything in their power to take care of their boys. Tara had been the one who gave Abel the chance he needed.
And Tara. Tara in jail.
"What've I done."
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"It wasn't you. Not- not until the end. Not until I went to jail, you tried and it just kept pulling you, I- You slipped away from me, and I couldn't pull you back, Jax. I couldn't. You were trying to fix the club, this whole time you kept trying to get them straight, and-"
She pulled in a deep breath. "I love you. I love you, and I love the man I left behind, but god, Jackson, I need you. I need you to be this person."
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And it would be good this time. He'd be everything he needed to be, everything Tara needed him to be.
"You and me, babe. And our boys. We'll do this right, I swear."
He leaned forward and touched their foreheads and noses together, like it could seal the promise somehow.
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She pulled in a deep breath, her voice low. "Tell me. Tell me what happened after Belfast. You didn't get home at all? Didn't hear about Salazar?" She didn't know that he'd heard about the kidnapping before he'd left - it'd been hell, he'd flown in, landed, and some eight hours later she was being held hostage in city hall - and then he got her out, and the next day... the next day, he was in prison for fourteen months.
She'd thought, at the time, that it was one of the hardest periods of her life. "What is this place?" She hadn't pulled away from him, the two of them huddled together as they rebuilt their world, and each other.
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He shifted Tara to his side and leaned her into him, rubbing circles into her shoulder. There was little else he could do as means of comfort to explain this strange, fucked up place. A place where he felt exposed and powerless against superheroes and people from strange worlds. The club wasn't exactly the Justice League, but there was a certain safety that came in shared numbers.
"It's half magic, half normal city and I don't even know where it begins or ends. New Year's was messed up, like–"
Down the hall and over the baby monitor, he could hear their boys squalling and it was almost a relief. How the hell did he explain killer magic bees?
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"It's... magic?" She had to ask, her voice soft, confused. Magic wasn't real, and yet, here she was. Here she was, and she was about to ask him a question when Abel - she knew it was Abel, he sounded different, he started to cry and seconds later, Thomas started as well.
"This, I know how to do," she said with a huffed laugh, pulling away from him a bit. "Thomas was a little younger than Abel when he was this age, but... Her eyes flicked up to his. "You should come meet your son, Jax." It was such a weird thing to say, and her brows furrowed for a moment as she swallowed thickly. He didn't know him, but... he would.
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"Yeah, there's a hospital. There's...pretty much everything. It's a hell of a lot bigger than Charming, even." Bigger and stranger.
Trusting Tara to follow, he went back into the boys' room and lifted Abel, the first crier, into his arms. "What do you think you're doing, huh? Yelling and waking up Thomas?"
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"Where'd you get the apartment and stuff? Is there like... a housing authority, or something, for people who just appear?" She stopped long enough to pick up her purse, and grab one of the diapers inside before coming in to get Thomas. She moved to change him before anything else, talking to Jax over his shoulder. "I've got some cash with me, and... we'll figure this out. All of it." She stared at Abel for a long second, before she looked back at Thomas, getting him all cleaned up before she lifted him in her arms, turning back to Jax.
"I can't believe he's so young," she said quietly. "I have- If you want to see them, I've got pictures, on my phone. Video, that kind of thing." Her eyes flicked up to his. "Stuff from when Thomas was born, that sort of stuff?" She was trying desperately to relate to him, to get it so they were on equal footing.
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"It's creepier than that. You go to a booth at the train station and you get a folder. It's got money and papers and shit. It's like being put into WitPro." Sometimes he thought that maybe, one day, he had signed up for it but somehow blocked out the memory. He stepped over and gave her a kiss to the temple. "Can always turn in the key and move here." Even after last night, it all seemed so uncertain.
"Yeah. I'd really like to see that. See what I missed out on."
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"Thomas," Tara said clearly, catching his attention at least a little. "Say hi to Daddy." The correspond Hi! was high pitched, and he turned to look at Tara, and then back at his father, catching Jax's beard in one pudgy fist, Tara moved to pry at his fingers. "Sorry, usually it's shorter so he can't get his hands on it quite as much." She bent to press a kiss to his head, and then looked up at her husband. Well. Now, she... supposed he wasn't, anymore.
"Do you want to take him? I'll take Abel. I... know he won't remember me right now." She tried to act like it didn't bother her, even though she knew it'd be even worse than it was when he'd come back from Belfast. "Thomas knows his animal noises, some colors, numbers... he's... he's a good boy. He adores you." She knew that Jax would love him no matter what, but she just needed to tell him. "He doesn't have the heart issues that Abel does." She was worried about how this would work, if they would still.... fit, the way they always had, even when she'd been in Chicago and come back.
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"Wendy's not here to spout bullshit. She gave up her claim to being Abel's mom when she shot fucking crank into her veins while she was pregnant." He gave Abel and Thomas a fiercely protective look before raising his eyes to Tara. They were gonna make this work.
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She shifted him up on her chest, smiling slowly. "Has daddy been taking care of you? You're such a good boy, Abel." She smiled so he would, and then looked at Jax, and that weariness was starting to creep back in - the consciousness that made her heart ache, the fear that he'd realise she was... not right. She hid behind the one thing she knew would be set aright, pulling in a deep breath. "How's his heart doing? I have more norpace and a beta blocker they put him on last year, if you need some of the medicine." It wasn't about them, it was actually clinical, because she was, even though she shouldn't be, afraid. That she would be the one to ruin this fragile balance.
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"Yeah, got him with a pediatrician at Darrow General–had to get someone." The because you weren't there yet went unspoken. "So he's full-up, but extras're always good."
He leaned over and kissed Tara on the forehead and the corner of her mouth. "Please don't be scared of me." He wasn't supposed to be the goddamn monster. It was him and Tara, the two of them.
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She looked up when he moved, her eyes wide as he kissed her forehead and her lips, and when he spoke her face sort of crumpled, and she looked away for a second before inhaling hard. "It's- I have to try and remember, okay? I mean- Be patient? I'm trying, it's been a very long... five hours, if you'd believe," she said with a strained sort of laugh. "Or, I guess, months. It's been a long five months." She moved then, even though they both were holding the boys, and she fit herself next to him, leaning on him with her forehead against his shoulder for a long, long moment before Abel reached up and grabbed a fistful of her hair, and she stood up abruptly.
"Okay, oww." She pried his hand free with her free one, and shook her head slightly. "One of the things I don't miss. C'mon, can't have all these men around who had no breakfast, huh?" Her eyes flicked to Jax. "Maybe... I can show you those pictures after breakfast? And we can... talk, a little, and then we'll figure it out."
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"Could take you guys out." He bumped his hip against hers and then paused, giving her a softer look. Whatever man he'd become to Tara, she wouldn't meet him here. Again, he swore to himself that things would be better. He'd provide her with lots of good memories until they all outweighed the ones that had sent her running. Tara would want to stay because he was going to be the right guy. The one she needed.
"There's a place a few blocks away. Pancakes and shit. Better than what I got." Baby food he had aplenty. Adult food, not so much. "Get some shit in the bag for them."
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It was fear on her face, and he could hear the indrawn breath before she ran a shaking hand over her face. She'd barely slept, and she was running on a deficit anyway - but right now, right now she could keep her shit together. Tara exhaled in a rush, and forced a smile as she grabbed the diaper bag and Abel, blowing a kiss against his cheek before they left for breakfast. She made sure to grab her purse and her phone - turned off in her bag from when she'd been travelling, only the burner had the power on.
The walk was a short one - one that had Tara looking around the town in wide-eyed awe, because she had no idea that this much was outside of the apartment she'd found herself in six hours before. "I don't even understand," she admitted, half-breathless.
They got to the restaurant, and they were sat, they ordered - and within short order, Thomas had a syrupless pancake to tear apart and Tara sat next to Jax, leaning against him with his arm around her shoulders, and she was holding a bottle and feeding Abel in her lap. "I can't remember the last time we did this," she confessed - it'd been a lifetime ago, before they were married, it seemed like.
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"This is the kinda thing I dreamed of, back when we were kids and anything seemed possible." It had still been his dream, even when shit got rough and the world went gay. At the heart of him, Jax's wants were simple and honest.
"So. You get an apartment assigned to you but my shit's all settled and we can get another crib for Thomas easy enough..."
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"That'd be nice," She said with a small smile, and she closed her eyes for a second, turning her head so that her forehead pressed against his shoulder, and she could feel the warmth of him against her skin. "I... Yeah," she said, not wanting to argue, because he was right. Back before she didn't have the tattoo on her back, when it was them making the most out of being sixteen and dreaming up the world...
But it wasn't like this. It wasn't with her hand smashed up, it wasn't with her being afraid of shadows and afraid of him. Not this man, not the one sitting beside her.... but the man he would become. The man she married. "When you got this place, what was in it? I was thinking, we could see what the new place looks like, if it's the same, we'll stay where you are, but if it's not, we can figure it out?" The apartment he lived in was fine, although small - she just had no idea what to expect from any of this. She took a deep breath, and looked down at Abel again, trying not to seem like this was as hard as it was. That her skin prickled whenever the door to the restaurant opened, and she was waiting for it to be one of the guys, for this to be some sort of fugue state and everything to come crashing down.
"What're we doing, Jax?" She asked it quietly, and it was clear that it wasn't about breakfast. They'd danced around everything except the fact that shit went bad and she'd gone to prison, and now it seemed to her like they were both just pretending everything was alright and normal.
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He could see those little flinches, the way that Tara's eyes darted from the door and back whenever the bell rang. Maybe she was tucked into his side, sitting there, but she was clearly still a million miles away. In her eyes, he could see the distance and it scared him. Tara had never looked at him like that. When they were sixteen and wild and back before Belfast, they'd always looked wholly into one another. Now, she was hyperaware of every voice and sound, ready to run at a second's notice.
"Tara," he said again, his voice low and unhurried. He leaned over and stroked a thumb across her cheek, leaning their foreheads together. "This is real. I'm real. I'm not gonna hurt you. I'd never do that."
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"How do you know?" She said it softly, and her eyes searched his. It wasn't likely the question he was expecting, quiet and raw. "How do you know you'd never hurt me? You don't even know who I am, anymore. I've watched you-" And then she closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before she exhaled, and shook her head slightly. "I know you're not... there, Jax. I do. I know that you don't look at me and see the enemy." But what she saw when she looked at herself... "I took your sons, Jax. I filed the papers for divorce, and made you sign a restraining order against your mother, and I had the papers drawn up so that you would be declared unfit so that I would get custody to save them from this, and-" The words just sort of poured out of her as her face lost it's color, and she felt like she was going to be sick, because why did she ever tell him? She remembered that rage, in him. Remembered the way he'd reacted when she'd talked about taking the boys, before they left for the restaurant. Tara pressed a shaking hand to her mouth, the other hand resting on Abel's head.
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Tara would have run and taken his boys, just the same way that Abel was taken from him before.
The Tara he'd left behind would never have done that. The man he was now couldn't conceive of things going so badly, nor of the man he'd become.
He drew back, running his hands over his face and closing his eyes, trying to figure out what to say.
Finally, he stood and blurted, "I gotta smoke."
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She nodded when he moved, a small nod that had nothing to do with how she was feeling or saying, because she felt like she was pulling the emotions in and in and in, like if she could shove them all back into the black hole inside herself and banish them, that she wouldn't care anymore. She knew it was bundling the good with the bad, that she was shoving away that hope that had just started to float at the surface, but he left and she shifted Abel up against her, and then pulled her phone out of her purse, turning it on. She'd have to find a charger at some point - she'd turned it off because she didn't want anyone to find her, but here.... she guessed it didn't matter, but she started thumbing through the pictures, and even as Abel drooled against her neck, she wiped her eyes with the edge of her brace, looking at the pictures of what their life had become, what'd happened over the last few years even as she rocked him slowly. Waiting for Jax to come back, because if nothing else, she was with the boys.
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Tara, his mother, and Opie. Those were the people that he never expected to fail him. Gemma must have done something real fucked up to make Tara get a restraining order but it was equally fucked up what she'd just confessed to him. He was many things, Jax knew, and not all of them were good. He was not, however, a bad father, an unfit parent.
It was something else entirely too. Tara hadn't said it was just him or just Gemma. Over and over again, she kept saying "the club" like the whole damn thing had gone toxic. Despite all of his efforts, the club had festered and gone poisonous like a wound and Tara's only solution had been to amputate.
What had gone wrong there?
He began to light a third cigarette and then stubbed it out on the wall, putting it back into the pack. Again, Jax closed his eyes and tried to breathe and steady himself before he opened the door and looked at Tara.
Wordlessly, he sat down and put a hand on her shoulder, fingertips edging into her hair.
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"But I'm sorry, I shouldn't- it's not something I should have ever told you, here. In public, and- I mean-" Her brows furrowed together, and she looked back at him. "When I say that it got to you, and it changed you, and then it changed me... you may never be him, Jax. You're not in the club now, but me?" She shook her head slightly, and then looked back at the phone, and it was pictures from what seemed like a lifetime ago, pictures from when she was pregnant with Thomas, when Abel looked almost exactly the same way he did now. "I'm not this," she said quietly, and finally looked back at him.
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"So how do we go back to what we were?" Not who. There was no undoing the people they'd become, even he knew that. But they could still live again. She could still trust him.
They could still be a family. He believed that, fervently.
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"You are-" She had to pull in a breath as her eyes searching his. "You are the only man that I've really loved." She meant it, the words coming from some deep part of her that wasn't poisoned from that well of fear and pain that she carried. "You're a good man, you're the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. I'm different now, but- I still love you, Jax." She paused, and then spoke, very quietly. "Right now? You're probably the best thing that's happened to our boys. I'm not.... good, anymore." Her voice was low as she confessed before she looked away. She didn't want to see his face when she broke that constant hope he seemed to carry.
"So I guess that part's your choice. I'm not the woman you know anymore, and you have to tell me, if it's not.... enough. If I'm not enough. If you're not happy, or if you don't want this anymore." She knew the words she was saying were right, that she was doing the right thing even as everything inside her screamed for her to stop, because she was throwing away her chance to have him again, to have the man who she loved, back. "But I'll try."
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"I love you too, Tara. Some days, when everything else was about to collapse, I knew I could look at you and there was an anchor there," he said, making the words a vow. Tara had been the thing that had him looking back, looking outside of the club and trying to find that balance.
"We got love. That's a place to start."
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But he could bring her back to life, maybe. There was a chance. "I will," she said softly, her hand still on his chest, "always be an anchor for you." Her eyes searched his. "If things happen again, I'll tell you, and we'll figure it out. We stopped talking, it... changed." Her brows furrowed. "But I won't stop talking, with you. Okay? It's... we have a place to start."
She took a deep breath, and shifted again, leaning back against him. "I want to show you these." She held Abel with her right hand, and scrolled through her phone on her left, even as her head leaned on his shoulder, stopping if he had questions, or said anything. Her, pregnant with Thomas, holding Abel. Him and Thomas, when he was a newborn. Jax was in orange, and Thomas was a tiny, tiny thing with a bright blue hat. Abel, growing up - and the club, the swingset.
It was all about the kids - she had a folder just for them, because she didn't want the rest of it to come up unless he asked, didn't want to talk about all the death that'd happened - especially not now. It'd come, some day, but now... it was the good things. She didn't realise there were things that would raise questions - like the pictures when Abel had a bandage on his head, the way it shifted abruptly from the clubhouse to the ice cream parlor, how there was a point that she stopped wearing scrubs and the massive cast on her hand with the pins in it - but she just showed him their boys, growing up, and both of them were there, too. You could watch, looking at it that way, as that happiness who made them who they were, drained out of them- but they always had their boys, and it was clear they were the center of their world. "We have love, and we have our sons," she said finally, turning her face to press a kiss to his jaw. "We can make it through this."
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It was strange to see himself suddenly a few years older and Abel getting bigger, acquiring a real personality. Suddenly he was walking, running in pictures, getting brighter as he hammed it up for the cameras near all of his "uncles."
"Look at you, little man," he said to the drowsy Abel. "Look how handsome you get."
And look how much sadder Jax and Tara got. Look how arbitrarily they posed for the camera, touching because it was required, because that had always been the way they connected. Skin on skin. Only the connection was gone in those pictures, starting with Tara's smashed hand and only getting more distant from there.
The only time he saw a spark of the Tara he knew, it wasn't in pictures with him. It was when she looked at Abel and Thomas, away from the camera.
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"He's brave," she said lowly. "Just like his daddy. And he's a good brother." She pulled in a deep breath, and she pulled back enough to look up at him. "It's going to take time, but- I'm going to go the hospital, see if they'll give me a job. I need to be a doctor, Jax, and I couldn't- with my hand, and then the pending felony charge, I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't work, and-" She pulled in another breath. "I think that gave us... space. It seperated me from the club, a little, made it so that it wasn't my life, it was your life that I was a part of, but... but I think it would be good, for both of us. If they have daycare like St. Thomas, somebody can watch the boys during the day, and we can.... figure it out. Right?"
She didn't know what he wanted, but she thought she'd try. "I don't know if they'll accept me, but I mean, hell, I could be a nurse at this point and I'd take it." She missed helping people. She missed being a healer, instead of someone who brought pain. "So we can start again," she said, finally. They'd start again, and they'd do it right, this time.
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Slowly, he nodded, kissing her cheek and temple. "Blank slate, babe. We can start again and I swear, whatever's chasing you back there? It won't hurt you here."
And if they dared come and try and get in her way, Jax would make sure that didn't happen.