A/N: Oh, hi there. How's it going? Did you all miss me? Haha, it's been a very long time since I updated anything on . I've mostly been planning on original stuff (I would love to write a novel one day) and work and life have been keeping me very busy. But then, season four rolled around and I was like, "no, gonna continue doing what I'm supposed to be doing". And then we gave Juice a real storyline. And boom, SOA on the brain, nearly twenty-four-seven. Which means, I must release myself through way to do that is reacquaint myself with Kelly. Yeah, yeah, I wanna write other SOA fanfiction aside from just this (I swear I'm gonna do something with Winnie again some day...), but this just being a bunch of one-shots smushed together makes it easy to return to. So, if you're coming back to this story after such a long hiatus, thanks for sticking around. This is for you, even if it's real short.
This takes place in the time between seasons three and four. You guys watch the Mexican Basketball appisode? Juice without his shirt on is delicious. That's all I gotta say.
Disclaimer: as always, I do not own SOA. I do own Kelly, though. The song is by 3 Doors Down.
Sons of Anarchy
100 Theme Challenge
A hundred days have made me older
Since the last time that I saw your pretty face
A thousand lies have made me colder
And I don't think I can look at this the same
But all the miles that separate
Disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face
I'm here without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby
And I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight it's only you and me, yeah
"Here Without You", 3 Doors Down
Even in my sleep, I could still smell him. My dreams were vague, as far as I could remember. Blurry images of the clubhouse and the garage. The guys were always in the distance, laughing or shouting about something that I couldn't quite make out. I always looked for that one person though, his mohawk and darker toned skin making him stand out against the others. Like them, he was blurry, as if in a photographed someone had taken while moving. Each night, before I could run to them, the sirens would sound and the cars of the ATF would roll up and haul them away. I would attempt to scream and shout, but nothing came. I couldn't move. My dream always ended with them driving away and the scenery fading to black around me.
I jerked awake, the dream lingering in the back of my head. Running a finger over my forehead, I could tell I had been sweating. Kicking my warm sheets off, I went into the bathroom to rub cold water over my face.
It had been ten months. Ten months since I had seen some of the most important people in my life being hauled away. In those ten months, I had tried to keep myself as busy as possible. Mom had been extremely busy helping Tara with not only Abel but with newborn Thomas, so I had been defaulted to manager at the garage. That took up most of my time. The remainder of my time seemed to be spent with Lyla helping her plan the wedding. She had been adamant – not that Opie disagreed or anything – that they wouldn't wed until the boys were out. I had to agree. A Samcro wedding just wouldn't be right without...well, without Samcro.
I couldn't get back to sleep so I spent the remainder of the night watching infomercials before getting dressed and going to the garage. I was going through paperwork when Opie appeared in the doorway.
"Hey, squirt," he said in way of greeting. I glanced up at him for a brief second before returning to work.
"Hey, ugly," I replied. In true Opie fashion, he didn't make a comeback. He merely snorted and came into the office, sitting in the chair across from me.
"I was thinking…" he began. It was clear he was trying to get something out of me. If I didn't know him so well, I would have expected him to start stroking that damn beard of his in a thoughtful manner.
"Thinking of getting a penguin suit for the wedding?" I answered brightly. He made a face. The thing that lightened my mood that most these days was trying to convince Opie to wear a tux. It was a failing battle.
"No." There was finality in his voice but I knew I wouldn't be able to resist bringing it up again later. "Chibs and I were talking. We went in and saw Bobby yesterday."
"How's the old fat bastard?" I missed Bobby. The place had no voice of reason these days. That might explain why Chibs had tried teaching the prospects how to build a car bomb.
"He's doing well enough. The guys seem to have a good system keeping them going."
I didn't reply to that. I had heard what had happened to Jax in there. If that was their good system, I didn't want to know what a bad one was.
"Juice misses you."
That made me stop writing. A sting hit my heart. In the past ten months, I had only gone in to see him twice. Well, first off, they weren't allowed that many visits that I could just come and go as I pleased. Second off, it hurt to see him in there. Each time they brought him to the table across from me, my heart broke just a little more. He didn't belong in there, wearing that blue jumper like all those other in-mates. Not my sweet, romantic, idiotic Juice.
"I know you don't want to, Kel," Opie said, sensing my thoughts. I looked up at him, setting my pen down. "But, believe me. He needs to know you still care. I was locked away for five years. I can't describe how much I wanted to see my kids. See Donna." His voice cracked the slightest at Donna's name, making me feel sympathy for him.
"I get it," I said, not wanting him to continue down his train of thought, for his sake. I stood up and walked around the desk before hugging Opie's head. "I'll go."
"Good. Poor boy's probably having a heart attack that you're boning with one of the prospects or something."
The new voice came from the doorway. I turned to glare at Kozik.
"I liked you better when you lived in Tacoma," I retorted before flipping my hair and strolling past him. "Besides," I called over my shoulder, "the prospects just aren't as pretty as Juice."
Sitting at that table made me nervous. It was odd; I knew that the Sons weren't exactly the…best intentioned people. But, they never made me feel scared. Not like the other felons that were in the room right now, talking to their own loved ones. Or lawyers. Or gang members. Whatever.
The door in the back of the room squeaked loudly open and a uniformed guard came through, tugging someone along with him. I must have visibly perked up at the sight of Juice coming through that door. His eyes landed on me and I could see his lips tug up in a smile. The guard escorted him right to the table and waited until he sat down across from me before going back to stand against the far wall.
For what felt like the longest time, we sat there and stared at each other. He definitely looked different than the last time I had saw him. His hair was going back in, thicker than I could ever recall seeing it. It looked strange on him; I had gotten so used to that mohawk of his. There was something else about him; he seemed a little worn out and tired, but I guess prison life would do that to a person.
"You cut your hair," he said suddenly, reaching across the table to pick at a strand of my hair. The last time he had seen me, it had been shoulder length. Now, it was cut chin length; I hated having my hair long and it was starting to aggravate me.
"I see you didn't," I replied with a smile. His face broke out in that goofy grin that I had grown so accustomed to.
"I only trust Floyd with my hair, you know," he said, running a hand over it. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "How are you?"
"Okay, I guess," I answered with a shrug. My gaze went down to the table as I rubbed my finger over a smudge, trying to scruff it out to no avail. "Mom's letting me manage the garage for a while since she's busy and all. I'm helping Lyla with the wedding."
"Yeah, Op told us she made the foolish mistake of letting you help pick the music." I smiled at that comment.
"Oh yes. Yes, she did." He chuckled.
"Abel and Thomas doing okay?"
"Yeah. Sometimes, Tara has Abel sleep over with me. He's kind of like my new teddy bear."
Again, silence. I was still staring at the table though I could feel his gaze on me.
"So…how are the prospects?"
The nonchalant statement made me look up with wide eyes. I couldn't tell if he was serious or joking.
"Yeah. You guys all…getting along?"
I cursed under my breath. "Have you been talking to Kozik?"
"Maybe a little. He and Chibs came by a couple days ago. Told me how you were…making friends."
"Stupid fucking Sons." I was cursing the two under my breath until I noticed the grin he was sporting. "Goddamnit Juice."
"A guy needs to know if he could still piss his lady off," Juice said with a shrug and a smile. "I'm just keeping the romance alive."
"The romance hasn't died, Juice," I answered, feeling more serious than I had in weeks. His eyes softened a little.
"That's good to hear." He didn't need to say a word; I could see the relief in his eyes. I reached across the table, taking one of his hands into both my smaller ones. I ran my fingers over it gently, feeling the rough skin. It dawned on me then that I had longed for his touch for a while and immediately regretted not coming to visit more often.
"Are you doing okay?" I asked, eyes going back to his. There was slight confusion at my question. "Nobody's hurt you, have they? I mean, I heard what happened to Jax and, god, Juice, if anyone did that to you…" Realization dawned on him. He took both my hands into his, squeezing them tightly.
"Babe, no, I'm fine," he reassured. "Honestly, I spend an abnormal amount of time with Happy. And no one's too willing to mess with him."
I could have kissed Happy, just hearing that statement. Then, I remembered if anyone in the world freaked me out, it was probably him.
"Good," I murmured, mostly to myself. I licked my lips, letting my thoughts organize themselves in my mind. "I'm sorry."
Juice looked stunned for a moment. "Sorry for what?"
"For being a shitty ass old lady." Before he could speak, I continued. "I should have come by as often as they would let me in. I just…"
"I know, Kel." He lifted my hands up and kissed them gently. I could feel the newly grown facial hair that I hadn't noticed earlier scraped against my skin. "Don't beat yourself up over it. It makes my life harder in here knowing you're suffering out there."
"I just…can't wait for you to get out of here. I really miss you."
"I miss you too, baby."
There was more silence, much more comfortable this time around. It had felt like forever since I had been able to just sit and stare into those beautiful eyes of his.
Our quiet was broken by his guard escort's rumbling voice.
"Ortiz, time's up."
Juice scowled. I rested a hand against his cheek, rubbing my thumb gently against his warm skin.
"It's okay, Juicy," I murmured quietly. "You'll be out here soon enough. Then, we can spend as much time together as we want." Juice nodded, taking my outstretched hand back up and kissing it again.
"Don't take so long to see me next time," he stated. I nodded. I wasn't going to let so much time go by again without seeing him.
"Ortiz," the warning tone from the guard came again.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Juice answered impatiently. I curled my fingers around his prison shirt, not liking the feeling of the rough material. I tugged him toward me; he came willing forward. There was slight hesitation to the motion I hadn't done in a long time. Juice seemed to sense where it was going and pressed his lips gently to mine.
It felt right, as if we were frozen in that moment. I wanted him out of here so I could feel him against me every day for the rest of my life.
We parted all too soon. He stood up from the table, forcing me to release his shirt.
"I love you, babe," he said quietly.
"I love you, too," I replied just before the guard came forward, taking him roughly by the arm and leading him away. I could feel him taking a piece of my heart back with him to the prison where, far behind those walls, the other members of Samcro waited.
"Miss Morrow?" the voice of the guard who had brought me in came from behind. I stood up without glancing at her. She led me out of the meeting room without a word.
I sat in the parking lot for a while, Filthy Phil seated on his bike in the lot next to me. Once I felt ready, I drove back to Charming. Without thinking, I went straight to my mother's house, letting myself in.
She was in the kitchen, reading a book as dinner cooked on the table. I settled on the chair across from her.
"How do you do it, Mom?" I asked. She looked up from her book, glancing over her glasses.
"Do what, baby?" she asked, sliding her bookmark in and pushing the paperback aside.
"Deal with them being locked away." She studied me for a minute before giving me a soft look.
"With a lot of love and patience," she answered. "And knowing that, once he's out, he's going to be sex-deprived and will want to ravage you for days."
"Love, patience and raging sex?"
She gave me that smile, that all-knowing smile she loved to wear. "That's right."
"I think I can handle that."
Mom reached across the table and patted my hands. "You're going to have to, baby."