The Nomad [Sons of Anarchy Fanfiction]

Trauma Binds [Pt. 1]

"Quinn's accepting Jax as a transfer." Clay announced silencing those of us in the clubhouse. I sat my drink down turning around to face him with a sigh.

"This is fucking wrong, and you know it." I said impassively.

"Oh, now you got a fucking opinion? I was told you told him you'd follow." I rolled my eyes moving to a stand.

"You think people are leaping to accept me as a transfer? Despite your bullshit, I actually like it here, Clay, and this shithole needs your son." I held his bitter gaze unwaveringly. "I'm his old lady. You're his dad whether you want that role or not. It's messy as hell." I shrugged. "I can be the supportive girlfriend, and the disagreeing clubmate."

"Sounds like a personality issue." Tigs muttered over his beer.

I looked around the room sighing as I tossed my hands up. "This is about Caracara, and the goddamn guns. Would it kill you to say sorry?"

"I didn't burn that shithole down." Clay said and then looked to Bobby, Opie, and Tig in turn. "I didn't. If he thinks I did he shouldn't be here."

"He thinks you did because you tried to shut it down behind his back!" I slapped the bar causing my half empty bottle to rattle. "Going Nomad is for people like me and Happy. Jackson has a family. Nomad will crush his spirits."

"That's for him to figure out, Sweetheart." Clay moved closer to me so we were practically touching in this standoff.

"You were saying it had to be Clay the other day." Bobby said distractedly before looking at me, but I barely noticed in my standoff with Morrow. "What changed?"

"I went back this morning after he left to get Piney since they finished their forensic shit. Accelerant was used, but there were multiple footprints." I lifted a brow before looking down to Clay's feet. "And last I checked, none of us are wearing sneakers." Clay snorted and stepped back a half step. I wanted to tell him the real reason he needed to keep Jax close. Gemma was building to a snap in her psyche if she couldn't focus on some kind of faith. I sighed, sinking back down onto my barstool letting my eyes close as I put my forehead into the palm of my hand focusing on my breath for a moment.

"You know something I don't?" Clay asked, and I picked my beer up, finishing it off before getting back up.

I paused shoulder to shoulder with him with a saddened gaze to the floor. "It's not mine to share, Morrow. Jax transferring is a mistake." I sighed moving past him to the door.

"The vote has to be unanimous!" He shouted out, and I couldn't tell if it was a warning or a reminder.

I walked out through the lot with my hands in my pockets and my face turned up to the sky letting the morning sun warm my skin as John Teller's words echoed in my head from that damn manuscript.

"I found myself lost in my own club. I trusted few, feared most. Nomad offered escape and exile. I didn't know if leaving would cure or kill this thing we created. I didn't know if it was an act of strength or cowardice. I didn't know, so I stayed. I stayed because, in the end, the only way I could hold this up was to suffer under the weight of it."

Looking back down at the ground in front of me for a moment I looked up to see Gemma watching me from the office door and I made myself walk over to her. I didn't want to force this conversation. I wanted her to do things the way she chose, because Trauma was individualized. How she dealt with that shit? It was up to her not me, but losing her son by the hand of her husband couldn't be ideal for that process. The rift in that family was mother deep. I kicked my foot at the bottom step up keeping my eyes down not knowing how to start. "Something wrong, sweetheart?" She asked, crossing her arms as her eyes fell on me worriedly.