Tara Knowles (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
drownedindreams) wrote2014-01-25 02:15 am
drownedindreams) wrote2014-01-25 02:15 am
Entry tags:
Debut: And everything falls apart, and comes back together.
“Sometimes, baby, people say things they don’t mean. Because they’re angry, they lie. Do you understand?” Tara shifted in the driver’s seat of the SUV so she could see Abel in the rear-view mirror, ignoring the throbbing pain in her hand. Things had sharpened into pinpoints ever since she’d gotten Thomas and Abel into the car. Pinpoints.
Where were they going.
What if they find us.
What if Abel remembers what Wendy said.
There was nothing that bitch could have said that was worse than she had. Tara knew she’d have to tell Abel someday that she wasn’t his mother - of course she would, because it wasn’t something that you could keep from a child, especially when he got older, but that day? That day wasn’t fucking today. It wasn’t the day that she was going to do what she had to, that she was going to run, or make the deal - it felt like the bullet in her purse was burning a hole inside, a hole that said and they all go away for RICO, the people who were the only family she’d had for years - but they weren’t her family now. They were her jailers, they were the men who had turned on her when she tried to save her sons from the life of guns and death and drugs. She was doing, as she’d told herself a hundred times, what she had to do. It didn’t matter if they hurt her, if they killed her, if it meant that Abel and Thomas could have a better life… it was worth it. If they could live, it was worth it. More than worth it.
“Abel, honey, I said, do you understand?”
“Yes, mommy.” The small voice made her exhale slowly, and she took a deep breath, wishing she could somehow put even more miles between her and Charming, between her and Jax - even now, she wondered. She wondered what he would do, even though she knew. She knew she was a dead woman for getting them out, she was a dead woman walking, and she wondered, honestly, if he’d kill her himself. Probably, it seemed like the sort of thing that the club would do, and what the club would do--
There was so little left of the man she fell in love with, it was all what the club would do. Everything Jax was, the smiling, bright man who was good, who was so inherently good that it oozed out his pores even when he was doing bad shit… he’d tried to do good things, but that man was gone. She wondered, as she let the highway roll under the tires until she’d find a small, no-name motel to stay for the night, how he’d do it. If he’d even feel remorse, if he’d realise what she was trying to do, or if he’d just see the stark betrayal.
“Mama loves you,” she said as she looked back in the mirror, thankful that she got a murmur in response. He was falling asleep, and Tara took a deep breath, her good hand clenching the steering wheel, her bad hand - throbbing where she backhanded Wendy - scrubbing at tears she’d only just now realised streaked her cheeks. “You have to do this,” she said to herself, her voice low. “Stop it. Stop it.” She took another deep breath, the road still rolling under her tires, every minute a minute more she’d have with her sons.
Tara pulled into the motel at around 11pm - it was forty miles off the interstate, and was as non-descript as she’d been able to find without it being seedy. She left the boys sleeping in the car, keeping one eye (and one ear) out for motorcycles while she paid with cash, smiling as she was handed the key. “Thank you,” she said sincerely to the night clerk, before she moved out to the SUV, moving to open Thomas’ door first. “Abel, honey, we’re here. Wake up, okay? We’re on an adventure.” She unclipped Thomas’ carrier from the cradle, and turned around to grab the door to close it, and her hand found only air. She turned full circle, and the carrier banged against the door she was standing in front of, jerking in her hand and waking up Thomas. She was in a non-descript hallway, in front of a door labeled 15. “Abel? Abel?” Her voice rose as she turned around in another circle, even as Thomas began to cry. “Where’s my son? Where is my son?”
She pounded on the door, not knowing who or what was inside, but the SUV was gone, Abel was gone, and Thomas wailed.
Where were they going.
What if they find us.
What if Abel remembers what Wendy said.
There was nothing that bitch could have said that was worse than she had. Tara knew she’d have to tell Abel someday that she wasn’t his mother - of course she would, because it wasn’t something that you could keep from a child, especially when he got older, but that day? That day wasn’t fucking today. It wasn’t the day that she was going to do what she had to, that she was going to run, or make the deal - it felt like the bullet in her purse was burning a hole inside, a hole that said and they all go away for RICO, the people who were the only family she’d had for years - but they weren’t her family now. They were her jailers, they were the men who had turned on her when she tried to save her sons from the life of guns and death and drugs. She was doing, as she’d told herself a hundred times, what she had to do. It didn’t matter if they hurt her, if they killed her, if it meant that Abel and Thomas could have a better life… it was worth it. If they could live, it was worth it. More than worth it.
“Abel, honey, I said, do you understand?”
“Yes, mommy.” The small voice made her exhale slowly, and she took a deep breath, wishing she could somehow put even more miles between her and Charming, between her and Jax - even now, she wondered. She wondered what he would do, even though she knew. She knew she was a dead woman for getting them out, she was a dead woman walking, and she wondered, honestly, if he’d kill her himself. Probably, it seemed like the sort of thing that the club would do, and what the club would do--
There was so little left of the man she fell in love with, it was all what the club would do. Everything Jax was, the smiling, bright man who was good, who was so inherently good that it oozed out his pores even when he was doing bad shit… he’d tried to do good things, but that man was gone. She wondered, as she let the highway roll under the tires until she’d find a small, no-name motel to stay for the night, how he’d do it. If he’d even feel remorse, if he’d realise what she was trying to do, or if he’d just see the stark betrayal.
“Mama loves you,” she said as she looked back in the mirror, thankful that she got a murmur in response. He was falling asleep, and Tara took a deep breath, her good hand clenching the steering wheel, her bad hand - throbbing where she backhanded Wendy - scrubbing at tears she’d only just now realised streaked her cheeks. “You have to do this,” she said to herself, her voice low. “Stop it. Stop it.” She took another deep breath, the road still rolling under her tires, every minute a minute more she’d have with her sons.
Tara pulled into the motel at around 11pm - it was forty miles off the interstate, and was as non-descript as she’d been able to find without it being seedy. She left the boys sleeping in the car, keeping one eye (and one ear) out for motorcycles while she paid with cash, smiling as she was handed the key. “Thank you,” she said sincerely to the night clerk, before she moved out to the SUV, moving to open Thomas’ door first. “Abel, honey, we’re here. Wake up, okay? We’re on an adventure.” She unclipped Thomas’ carrier from the cradle, and turned around to grab the door to close it, and her hand found only air. She turned full circle, and the carrier banged against the door she was standing in front of, jerking in her hand and waking up Thomas. She was in a non-descript hallway, in front of a door labeled 15. “Abel? Abel?” Her voice rose as she turned around in another circle, even as Thomas began to cry. “Where’s my son? Where is my son?”
She pounded on the door, not knowing who or what was inside, but the SUV was gone, Abel was gone, and Thomas wailed.
no subject
"You'd tell me that you were doing what you had to do, so I don't know what to think, because- It's all that's left, isn't it?" Her eyes came back to his. "But you wouldn't lie to me, and- I don't understand. Abel was in the car, and then I was here and he was gone, and he's a baby, and you don't have the scars, and you didn't know Thomas-" She shook her head, forcing herself to take a deep breath. "Our son," she said softly. "He's twenty-one months, Jax. Is- Is this real? Is this somehow real? Are you not- you're not-" You, is the only word she can think to say, but she knows it makes no sense, none of it.
no subject
Maybe he needed to convince himself of that too.
"I wish I knew what to say." He wished he knew what he had to do so that he had something, some seed of hope to offer her.
"I swore to myself, after we served and we got out, I'd never miss another day of my kids' lives..." And now he had an almost two-year-old son that knew him, but Jax had never seen before.
"God. He's our son and I've missed so much of his life."
no subject
If she could turn back time, she would have this man, this man, instead of the man who currently sat at the head of the table, who carried the gavel. She'd try again, to save them both - even if it was a dream, she had to tell him how much she loved him, because she didn't know how long she had. She pulled back enough that she could lean upward and kiss him desperately, her eyes tightly closed.
no subject
When she kissed him it was like a sigh of relief. All the tension drained out because Tara finally looked at him with something other than fear. Those words meant so much right now. Her kiss felt like more than any other kiss he'd had lately. It was symbolic of something now, of him having a chance to banish that fear that haunted Tara's face.
Eggs, coffee, toast, making up the couch into a bed if need be. They could all wait until after Jax kissed her.
no subject
"Don't change," she said as she pulled back slightly, her hands cupping the back of his neck, the bandage rough against his skin. "Don't change. I need- I need you to stay." She finally opened her eyes, looking up at him. "I need you, Jax. I can't do this anymore. I can't." It wasn't just wanting the good old days, it was that without him, she'd lost everything. She'd lost him, and she'd lost everything.
She looked up at him, her hand finding his cheek. "I love you. I would do anything to keep you." Her eyes shined with tears that she had yet to shed, and she tried to blink them away, the small smile on her face was one of self-deprecation. "You have no idea what's going on, I know that, but just- I need you to know that. That I have never, ever stopped loving you, I just- I had to try." She had to try to save their sons.
no subject
"I found you again and I'm not fucking this up. Not here."
Jax wanted so badly for her not to be scared of him.
"It's...almost three in the morning. Jesus Christ. You've gotta be so fucking tired."
The offer was unspoken; the bed was big enough for two and he'd hold her until this was her reality. Until she had faith in him again. "I don't have work tomorrow so we can figure all our shit out."
no subject
She pulled in a breath, and nodded when he said she must be tired. "I've slept like... ten hours in the past week," she said with a soft, breathless laugh. "I- I'm terrified that if I go to bed, you'll be him when I wake up." She whispered the words, holding his hand that cupped her neck tighter. "Promise? Promise-" She took his hand finally, and pressed a kiss to his fingers, her eyes flicking up to his. "We need to talk. Tomorrow, if- if this is real, we need- god." Her eyes ran over his face, her hand finding his cheek. Her thumb smoothed over his cheekbone as she shook her head. "Okay?"
no subject
When she called him that, Jax only nodded, because he had a harder time seeing the good in himself. He could see how necessary it was to try and live like a good man, to try and do what he saw as right to take care of the people he loved. "C'mon. I got some shirts and shit you can put on." He wasn't stupid enough to mention sex right now, not when Tara had only just let him kiss her again.
"Make up the couch if you want. Bed's big enough for two, if you want to make sure I'm still me in the morning."
And he would be. Not only that, he'd be better in the morning. He'd kiss his boys and make something that wasn't cereal in a bowl. Maybe even take them out. Anything to make them happy.
no subject
"I've missed you so much," she breathed, and she had to close her eyes, so that he couldn't see the pain in them, but she needed to be close, to touch him, to not lose him yet.
no subject
He ran a hand down her side, fingers hunting out the familiar places hidden under the change of having had a baby. He was going to enjoy discovering those changes too, reacquainting himself with the person he knew he needed more than anyone else. After four months here and weeks before that without her, it was like breathing again after too long underwater.
"I missed you too," he said, laughing and kissing her again before bending down to grab her around the hips and carry her away.