I own nothing you recognize. All original characters and storylines are my own.


He hissed as the prison doc taped his ribs. Not just one but two broken ribs, no one could say that Tig wasn't skilled at what he did. Shit it hurt and the doc wasn't exactly skilled with his bedside manner. Juice would have given just about anything to have Tara patch him up. Jax's old lady knew what she was doing and actually gave a damn if they were comfortable, also Tara wouldn't have been down with what was about to happen. Fuck, he had to stop thinking like that. He was doing what he was doing for the Club; he was doing what he was doing so that he could make it home to Milla and the peanut in one piece. He almost chuckled as he thought about his wife. She was so not going to be happy with Clay when she found out about this. Even with the Club on gag order she'd find out about this. When she did the silent treatment would roll out and Clay would be short tempered and meaner than usual until she was talking to him again and she'd be a ball of angry misery. The thought would have made him laugh if the thought of laughing alone didn't make him groan from the pain. People thought he had the co-dependent relationship with Milla? Fuck that, she was a Daddy's girl down to the atomic level.

"All done." The doc said and pressed far harder than he should have on the end of the tape, at least that's what it felt like, and went to wash his hands at the sink while Juice shrugged back into the hospital gown. As the doc slipped past he dropped something on the bed which Juice picked up once he went through the door.

"Fuck." Juice breathed put as he looked at the condoms the doc had left. Pervy bastard probably wanted to watch. With a shake of his head he got up off the table and took a deep breath. It was now or never. He walked slowly to the security door and waited, his stomach rolling as he heard whistling. With a deep breath he stood at the window to let the snitch know he was there. He was doing this for the Club, he was doing this so he could get home to Milla and the peanut unscathed. The peanut…shit they were going to have to think of names. One name definitely not on the list was Dion. Just as the thought popped in his head he saw the gay snitching bitch through the window…show time.

"Hi, how ya doin?"He asked as he clutched the condoms in a death grip, so nervous he could feel the blood coursing through his veins as he heard the words tumbling out of his mouth. "Juice."

He kept his back to the wall, not wanting the big, black, cocksucker to have access to his ass. He knew he was supposed to be willing, to want it, but he couldn't stop the fear from manifesting itself into the nervous tics. It had been decades since he was a virgin but he was feeling like one now. Only this time he was scared and disgusted not ready to bust a nut.

"Yes you are." Dion, the snitch, the cocksucker, the target said as he place his hands on either side of Juice, almost pinning him to the wall. As he leaned in for what looked like a kiss, Juice was having none of that and had to get away.

"Right." Juice said before he took a sharp breath and maneuvered his way out from under Dion's arm. For the Club, for Milla, for the peanut. He kept repeating that as his mantra, he was doing it for them so he could do it. With a deep breath he started walking to the expanse of the room inadvertently rubbing his nose with the condoms.

"Come prepared." Dion said conversationally and Juice almost didn't know what to do so he let his filter shut off and just played the part. If he thought too hard about what to say or how to act he'd screw up and give it all away.

"Yeah I like to be responsible." He said, cursing himself when his nerves got the better of him and his voice broke but he stayed the course and walked ahead, looking back constantly. He really didn't like having this guy behind him.

"Good for you Juicy." Dion said as he reached down and gave Juice's ass a quick squeeze, causing the smaller man to arch away from him.

"Woohoo yeah, yeah." Juice did an evasive maneuver to get away and was successful but still so nervous that the tension rolled off of him in waves. As soon as he put some distance between them he looked around and found an innocuous topic to talk about. Juice was always good with talking about nothing, people thought it had to do with his brain disconnecting from his mouth. In reality he knew the random shit that popped in his head didn't really interest anyone and he couldn't stand silence so he just spoke to fill it, even rambling if it came down to it. "Wow this is a lot nicer than gen pop."

"A little more intimate." Dion said as he continued to look at Juice like he was an ice cream cone on a hot day. The gravity of what could happen hit Juice at those words and he had to think of something to keep him from bolting. He had to think of something to get him on the right track. He was doing this for the Club, he was doing this for Milla…his Milla…he was going to go home to her and without a big, black dick in his ass.

"Yeah that too." Juice said once he calmed himself down enough to speak again.

"Have a seat." Dion gestured to the bench and Juice decided to just go for it, if he had his ass on the bench then Dion couldn't ram things into it but, just so, he continued to look back at Dion, poised for a sneak attack. This time when Dion smacked his ass he brushed it aside, He was doing this for the Club, he was suffering to get home to his wife.

The snitch started to whistle that infuriating tune as Juice finally managed to sit down, his back straight and stiff from the tension of the situation, tension that didn't lift when Dion started to massage his shoulders, still whistling that tune.

"You sore baby?" He asked as he rubbed and Juice really was sore. He had two broken ribs and he'd had a push up contest with Hap earlier so he really was sore, but not sore enough that he wanted anything from Dion.

"Yeah a little." Juice finally relented. The shoulders were ok, he put his hands on the fellas' shoulders all the time no biggie. Then one of the hands slipped and went for his dick. No, he was not allowed to touch that and Juice moved away as quickly as he could. "Oh o-k."

Juice got away and grinned nervously; embarrassed that he'd been grabbed so intimately by another man. He had to quickly remind himself why he was doing this, who he was doing it for.

"Don't be nervous sweetheart." Dion tried placating him, obviously enamored with the nervous, shy virgin. He grinned inwardly while still being outwardly amused. If he would've known he was going to break in the brown beauty he would have paid the full fifty.

"I'm not I'm just… you mind if we uh move this to the bathroom a little more private." Juice bullshitted as he grinned a tight, nervous version of his usual grin and pointed to the bathroom. Isolating Dion further was a good idea, as long as he didn't block off his escape route.

"Sure baby." Dion was willing to go along with whatever Juicy wanted, eager to get in that tight, buff body. Dion went ahead, knowing his nervous companion would have no choice but to follow.

"I'm sorta shy, I'd like to get down to…business." Juice's mind started to play out scenarios about what could happen, what could go wrong, as he froze for a second before he followed Dion, being sure to drop the condoms on the bed as an excuse to get out of the room. Once he got to the door he saw Dion removing his prison issue pants and underwear while he whistled that damn tune. Juice just knew he'd never be able to hear that again without cringing. As Dion grabbed his junk Juice knew he had to get out of there, the condoms provided that escape. "Just let me grab the condoms real quick. Just-"

He didn't finish the thought he just walked toward the bed. His heart beat quickly as he looked toward the door and didn't see any of Russell's crew. They were supposed to be there, fuck! He put his head down in defeat as he grabbed the condoms; he had to go through with this, Jax had made a deal and even if Russell's crew didn't fulfill their end of the bargain Juice was a Son and they kept their promises. Just as he was ready to "take one for the team" he looked over and saw one of the men. Relief and joy propelled his feet forward.

"Come on honey, let's get this done!" Dion called impatiently, wanting to get at that virgin ass. Juice opened the door and the crew rushed through eager to get their hands and shivs on the snitch.

"We're comin." They ran to the bathroom and Juice followed, wanting to see that this was over, that he could go back to the yard and his brothers safely, in one piece for his wife and child.

"Oh shit!" Was all Dion managed to say as they began the beatdown that was a long time in the making. Juice was so relieved he felt like crying but he needed out of there, needed the safety of the yard.

"Thanks." The man who had to be one of Russel's higher ups said and Juice nodded a little before he noticed the condoms in his hand.

"I'm guessin you won't be needing these?" He asked in an attempt to break the tension of the moment but the guy just gave him a look that was his cue to leave, getting out of there as fast as he could. Once he was back in the infirmary, getting dressed in his prison issue clothes he had to smile. It was done; he had helped secure protection for his brothers, for himself. He'd be going home to his old lady and their little princess, he was as sure the peanut was a girl as Milla was, and he'd be in one piece when he did. Once the doctor gave the all clear he was ready to go to the yard, ready to see his father and brother in law and show them that he wasn't a fuck up. Life wasn't always shit.

Juice was proud of himself as he was led out of the infirmary and to the yard, he'd done his part, played it well. Now he could go back to his brothers and tell them how it went down. He stood in the sunlight as the guards shouted to one another and waited to be ushered through.

"Opening Gate. One coming in." The guard took out his keys and opened the door while Juice made eye contact with Bobby, then Clay, smiling the whole time. He gave Clay the thumbs up, letting him know his part of the deal was a lock. His grin widened when he thought about how Milla would respond to this now. Yeah, she'd dwell for a bit on what could have happened before she bubbled with pride at what did happen. He nodded a bit to himself, yeah he'd be getting a first-class blow job for this. His woman always knew how to reward her man.

The guard opened the door and Juice walked out, limping a bit from his taped and broken ribs. He made it through the men milling around, so eager to get to the guys that he didn't notice the men surrounding him until it was too late. Before he could even register what was happening one of the bastards pushed him and Juice was met with some of the worst pain he'd ever encountered. First it felt like he'd been punched, which was ok, a beating was expected but then the pain turned into a burning, the worst burning he's ever felt. Even getting shot didn't feel this bad. He yelled, he needed to alert the guys, then the second round of pain started and the guys were the last thing on his mind, it was so bad that he thought he was going to die. As he went to his knees he was vaguely aware of Jax coming to his aid. Jax…fuck…how was Milla going to handle this, how was the peanut going to handle never knowing Daddy.

"Get it out! Get it out!" He shouted as he groaned in pain. Jax did as he was asked and removed the shiv, causing his brother-in-law even more pain but not knowing what else to do. Juice's eyes were shut and beyond the red haze of pain he saw flashes of his life with Milla. The first day he saw her after the party, embarrassed that she saw a naked man in the Clubhouse. When he kissed her for the first time, her face flushed and lips swollen. The first time they made love the look of awe on her face as he hovered above her moving slowly letting her get used to him, she didn't know it could feel like that. Her in that red dress on their wedding day. When she told him he was going to be a Daddy. The first sonogram… Fuck those bastards he was going to live! Just as he was getting ready to get up he felt himself lifted and carried away. To where he had no idea but he'd made up his mind, he was going to fight, he was going to get to his wife and their child was going to know him.

"Non-life threatening", that's what the doctor said when they examined him before he was shipped right back to county. During that time he'd received a call from Rosen and was told that they were working on him getting transferred to Saint Thomas rather than County, that place would have been a death trap. Besides he didn't want Milla to see him there, so if he had to kiss the Armani-clad pussy's ass to get back to Charming and close to his wife he would. His mind kept circling back to the yard, he came so close to dying, so close to leaving everyone he loved behind. He didn't believe in an afterlife but if he did it would be like something out of "Dead Like Me" that show Milla watched every once in a while. He'd have a different face and voice but he'd stay in Charming, doing odd jobs watching her and watching their little girl grow up. Yeah, no halos or horns for him, it wasn't his style anyway.

Since he got to the infirmary they had him shackled to a bed in an isolated section with malfunctioning air conditioning and barred windows that betrayed the darkness of their purpose by letting bright, almost cheerful sun in. It was so quiet that you could hear every footfall, every drip of water from that faucet that wasn't completely shut off. It would have been annoying if these repetitive noises didn't calm the nervous energy that was part of Juice's genetic makeup. Silence and calm were things he couldn't do, he needed noise, needed movement for his brain to function properly. It was one of the reasons he handled technology so well, even as things sat unused he could imagine the electricity the little packets of information flowing through the wires. He never felt more at ease than when he was either fixing something or working on his computer. And when he couldn't do those things he found some noise, some pattern to occupy his brain and work out the absence of movement and sound. Suddenly the faucet stopped and that broke his thoughts for a second and filled him with this panicky sensation that was almost immediately replaced with relief when he heard footsteps coming down the hall and into his room. He was due for some pain meds soon so he felt a little thrill. That thrill was squashed when the person who entered the room sat in the bed across from him and he got a good look at her.

"Missed the vital organs, you are very lucky." That hatchet faced bitch sat on the bed as he got a look at her. False concern for his well being was coming off her in waves.

"Now I know why we can't get bail or a court date." He practically growled. This woman was keeping them all from living their lives, was keeping him from his family.

"Dangerous times for SAMCRO, huh?" Was this bitch serious? She was really going to pull that shit?

"I've already been shanked, bitch. Go find somebody else's life to make miserable." He rested his head, not even trying to mask his disgust with her. While he shouldered some of the responsibility for Donna he knew this bitch was behind it all. Knew this bitch had ruined the lives of so many people he loved and she didn't deserve anything but his disdain.

"Actually I was hoping that you could tell me a little something about this beef between Clay and Jax, especially since they're family and all. You think maybe that's the reason you guys are getting hurt? You know the word is that folks think the Reaper is coming apart at the seams." The bitch thought she was so smart, trying to bring his connection through Milla into this, make him think he was going to lose his Club and his family. He had too much faith in the reaper, too much faith in his family to fall for her ignorant bullshit.

"Only beef we got is with asshole Feds." He turned his head to let her know he wasn't going to speak anymore. He thought she'd just leave but she just sat there.

"How do you think this tension is affecting your wife? She's pregnant isn't she? From what I hear the princess is pretty far along. With her heart defect this can't be good for the baby and with you in here…She must be going crazy. Wouldn't it be better for you to come clean with what you know? I could get you better medical care, maybe a conjugal visit with little miss Milla once things are settled. Wouldn't it be good to see your wife without the bars, talk to your baby through that bump? Maybe I can twist her arm a bit, see how she feels about you being hurt. I bet she knows something about why this went down." She leaned over and whispered the last while Juice violently turned to face her, not caring that he reopened his wounds and was hurting.

"Leave my wife the fuck out of this! She doesn't know anything because there's nothing to know and she doesn't need your bullshit. You've hurt enough people we love already." Juice snarled and Stahl studied him. She knew bringing up the SAMCRO princess would set him off. The goofy bastard, the Club retard, was fiercely, violently loyal and protective of his old lady and now that she was having his baby he'd turned into a pitbull. She knew enough to cut her losses, Juice wouldn't say a word, no matter how much she threatened to press Milla and a trip to talk to her would yield nothing but clever insults and a further peek into her spotless record. She's already gone down that road, seen what there was to see, and Juice knew it too. He knew that his baby was clean and knew how to handle herself with people like this ATF cunt. He turned his head from her again, this time practically daring her to bring up Milla. She took the hint and stood, straightening her suit jacket while she looked down at him.

"I see…Well you take care and tell your lovely wife hello from me." He silently snarled as she mentioned Milla again but kept his head away. If he kept falling for the bait eventually she'd find a sore spot and work it. He was loyal to the Club, would die, would kill for the Club but Milla came first. He knew that the Club came before bitches, but Milla wasn't a bitch. As corny and cheesy as it sounded she was his other half, she made him a good man...a better man. She made him a man worthy of being a Son and that fact put her slightly ahead of the Club in that totem pole. In the same way he knew she lived for the Club, she bled for the Club and she would lay down her life for the Club so if he turned rat, if there was even a whisper of his wavering loyalty she'd be out. That fact along with his true, undying loyalty to the Club ensured that he would never turn, could never turn. That thought made him smile as closed his eyes and saw images of his wife behind the lids. As soon as he got out of there he'd hold his wife in his arms again, feel the baby kick and they'd finally figure out a name. With a small shudder he thought of two names that would definitely not be on the roster, Dion and June, two people who tried to fuck him in very different ways.

Author's Note: This story is a direct companion piece to Juice Not JC. I felt that this incident deserved a separate telling apart from the main story. As far as I'm concerned this is Juice's most important storyline, even more so than the cut issue in season 3. This incident forced Clay to realize that things were going downhill faster than even he had realized and gave Juice more weight as a character. I also felt that now that he has Milla and the baby they would be his main concern and I hope I conveyed that. He's so much more than the goofy bastard, the comic relief and I wanted to show that. As always thank you for reading.