Juice woke up to find Angela's side of the bed empty. He frowned as he threw back the covers, grunting as he got out of bed. He padded his way down the hall, stopping in front of Evie's room to find his wife laying on the floor next to Evie, watching their daughter as she enjoyed her tummy time. He'd heard some babies hated lying on their tummy, but Evie didn't have a problem with it. She was working on little push-ups, in fact, her neck muscles getting stronger and stronger every day.

He looked over at Angela, frowning a bit. He was worried about her. Something that was foreign to him. She was such a strong woman, such a force to be reckoned with that he never really had to worry about her mental state before. Now, he wasn't so sure. The anger he'd heard in her voice the night before had put him on edge. She wasn't angry at him; she was angry at the club and for the first time, he understood why. He was starting to lose sight of what was good about the club, starting to doubt his place in it. Lately, all it had brought him and his little family was grief. He used to be able to see the good in it, find a way to justify the violence. Angela was good at bringing that out, at making him feel better about it all, but lately even she was having a hard time finding the good in it. Worse, she was starting to resent it.

"Your push-ups are almost as good as your Daddy's. Just a little more practice and you'll be as good as him!" Angela encouraged her little girl. It was obvious she knew he was there watching them.

Her dark eyes fell on him, and he frowned at the sight of the dark circles beneath them. She hadn't slept the night before. He knew because he hadn't either. They'd both laid there together in silence, not touching at all. Then she'd turned away from him and curled up on her side. He'd reached out for her, tracing out the tattoo on her back over and over again, trying to entice her to move in closer, but she hadn't. She hadn't even reacted. He didn't know what was going on with her, but it was really starting to bother him.

"That's my girl," he said trying his best to pretend like nothing was wrong as he lay down on the other side of his daughter. She turned her head and smiled at him. "Hi Monk! How you doin', beautiful girl?"

She cooed back at him, trying for another push up. "Good job, Evie-doll," Angela praised, leaning over to kiss Evie's head. She sat up with a groan. "You got her for a minute? I'm gonna make some breakfast."

Juice sat up too, crossing his legs in front of him and meeting her gaze. "You mad at me, baby?"

Her look softened as she crawled over to him. He reached out and pulled her closer, seeking out the contact he'd missed the night before. She let him this time, sitting in his lap with one leg on either side of his hips, so she could face him as her arms encircled his neck. "No," she said softly. "No, I'm just...mad at everything and sad and...I don't know. I'm all mixed up."

He leaned forward to kiss her forehead, letting his lips linger on her skin for a moment while he gathered his thoughts. "Talk to me."

"I can't," she muttered softly, her fingers tracing over the tattoo of her name inked on his chest. "I don't want...I don't want to put my thoughts in your head because I'm afraid of what might happen if you start thinking the way I am."

Juice furrowed his brow in confusion. "I didn't understand any of that."

"You have this...loyalty to the club. This faith that everything you guys do is good and right because they're your family. Your brothers. That's something I've always loved about you. Something I understood. But I don't understand it anymore."

"You want me to leave the club?" he asked, trying to make sense of it.

Angela scowled at him and shook her head. "I would never ask that of you. I just...I'm starting to understand why Donna and Tara wanted out, and it's scaring me because I've never doubted the club before...I never...I've never hated them the way I do now."

"Hate's a strong word," he reminded her.

"It's a strong feeling," she agreed on a nod.

He studied her face for a brief moment, trying to figure out what to say in response. What had driven her to this point? Had her hatred for his club been festering for a while, and he just hadn't noticed? Was Happy being used as collateral just the straw that broke the camel's back? "Shit, Angel. I don't know what to do with that."

"Neither do I."

They sat in silence for a while, both of them just watching Evie. Juice cleared his throat after a moment. "Chibs thinks I'm having a breakdown," he admitted softly. "Which is funny because he is the last person I would think gave two shits about me."

Her dark eyes were on him again, wide with worry. "Are you?"

"No. I'm not. You and Eves are the only thing keeping me sane right now, to be honest. The club...I can't find my place in it anymore. I don't understand what we're doing, and I can't find the good in any of it like I used to," he admitted honestly. He shook his head slowly, leaning into her touch as she stroked her fingers over his cheek. "Today we're...we're springing Clay from jail 'n' then we're...Jax is gonna kill him. Just like that. We had a Mayhem vote and no one opposed it. Not Bobby or Tig. I couldn't because...because..."

"Then Jax would bring you up for a Mayhem vote," she filled in sadly. "But you knew it was going to happen, Juice. One way or another, Jax was going to kill Clay for all the shit he pulled. I'm honestly surprised it didn't happen earlier."

Juice could hear the hatred in her voice and wondered once again what had transpired between her and Clay to make her hate him. "Why do you hate him so much? What'd he ever do to you?"

Angela let out a long sigh, biting the corner of her lip as if contemplating whether to tell him. "You heard about Tara and JT's letters, right?"

"Yeah. Clay sent people after her, messed up her hand."

"I...I kind of knew about them, too," she conceded, her eyes meeting his briefly. "Tara and I got close while you guys were in county, and she...she told me about the letters and a little bit of what was in them. Gemma found out, and she must've told Clay because at that Garden Party, he kind of...threatened me."

He was starting to feel like a real idiot now. How had he been so blind to all of this? "Threatened you how?"

"He made it clear that he had enough evidence to send you and Happy back to jail for a very, very long time if I told anyone what I knew. Which was essentially nothing. I just knew the letters existed and that they were dangerous, but Clay and Gemma and Unser didn't believe me."

Juice swallowed hard, his mind buzzing with a mixture of anger and a little relief. Finally, he understood why she hated Clay so much. "Jesus Christ, baby. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I was scared it would change the way you acted towards him, and he'd realize I told you and make good on his threat," she explained honestly.

"Which is why you were happy when we sent him back to county," he said, an invisible weight sliding off of his shoulders. That smirk that had been on her face the day he'd betrayed Clay still was a sore spot for him despite the fact he'd forgiven her for it. It'd been the reason they'd had their little break, the reason he'd skipped out on the last few months of her pregnancy. If she'd just explained it to him, none of that would've happened. That irked him a little bit. "You should've told me after. I would've understood."

The look on her face told him that he was missing the point. "I'm telling you now. I'm giving you a reason to justify what you're about to do. He threatened to send you back into jail over a bunch of letters. That's why you shouldn't feel a shred of guilt for this. This man would easily send you back to jail if it meant saving his own ass."

Juice swallowed hard as he shook his head. For a minute there, he had himself believing she was right. That Clay deserved what he was going to get, but his heart rivaled against him. It wasn't right, killing a man like that. Clay had treated him like a son all of these years. He'd been there for him, had embraced him and told him it'd all be okay after he'd confessed what he'd done to him. No one else in the club had done that. Chibs had gone so far as to beat the shit out of him for it, but Clay had embraced him. Assured him everyone in the club at some point had made the same mistake. Clay actually cared about him. More so than any of his other brothers. Or at least, that's what it felt like. Angela said he'd threatened to send him back inside, but he hadn't actually done it. "Still doesn't feel right. Settin' him free and then killin' him. Not after everythin' he did for the club...for me," he admitted, closing his eyes at the feel of her finger tracing over one of the tattoos on his scalp. He opened his eyes to see her staring at him with a strange look on her face as if she was trying to figure him out. "Is that crazy?"

Her dark eyes warmed at the question. She leaned forward and kiss him softly. "That's you, Juice. That's your big, dumb heart," she said, poking at his chest. "And as much as I disagree, it doesn't make you crazy, it makes you, you. It's why I love you."

He smiled a little at her, feeling relieved that she wasn't pissed, that she understood. "So what do I do?"

"Whatever you have to, Juice. Just know I'm here. No matter what happens, you have two people who are waiting for you to come home and who love you regardless of what you do," she told him, her hands framing his face.

He sighed at the soft feel of her lips brushing against his for just the briefest moment before she untangled herself from him. As soon as she stood, he missed her warmth and frowned. "You're my best friend, Angel," he told her, making her stop and turn around, a small smile on her face. "Always have been."

Angela smiled at him and winked. "You're mine too. That's why I married ya."

He grinned at her back as she walked away before looking back at Evie. His baby girl smiled at him, drool dripping down her chin. "Your daddy's a lucky man," he said, lifting her up and settling her on his chest. "Got my two angels to come home to every night."

-------------------

Chloe was pacing around the room with Hades trailing around her ankles. Happy hadn't come home, and Angela had never called her back. Something was going on. She picked up her phone and dialed Angela's number again for what felt like the hundredth time. That's when the front door opened. "Jesus Christ, I'm here. Cool your fuckin' jets, lady," Angela said as she walked in, Evie strapped onto her chest, Rigor at her side.

"What the hell happened last night? I kept calling you! You turned your phone off!" Chloe exclaimed angrily.

She sighed in response, running her hand over Evie's back. "You need to sit down and take a chill pill. Breathe."

"Ang-"

"Sit!" she ordered, her voice authoritative, demanding just like Happy's was when he gave his orders. With that tone, it was hard to disobey either of them. It was going to be a good 'mom' voice for when Evie hit that difficult stage, that was for sure. "Now, I've had one hell of a night and morning, and I don't need any of your shit to add onto it."

Chloe sat down quickly, raking her hands through her hair. "Sorry," she muttered on a soft sigh. "I'm just...worried."

"He's...fine. I think," Angela said, struggling to get Evie out of her carrier. She handed her over to Chloe before shrugging out of it and sitting down on the couch with a tired sigh. "I don't...he's kind of being held by somewhere for...collateral."

She felt like she was going to throw up right there. "Holy shit. Are you serious?"

Angela nodded, taking Evie back into her arms out of fear Chloe would drop her. "Yeah."

"He never...he never called you even?"

She shook her head slowly. "No. He didn't have the chance to. I uh...Juice told me last night, and I kind of flipped out on him and then went to sleep without calling you because losing a baby and Happy in the same day was kind of...overwhelming."

"I'm sorry, Ang," Chloe said, setting her hand on her friend's thigh. "That is...insane."

Angela shrugged, pressing her lips to Evie's head and letting them linger there for a moment. "Yeah," she said, her voice rough.

They both sat there in silence for awhile before Chloe let out a long breath. "I'm falling for your cousin," she admitted seemingly out of nowhere.

She frowned a little in response and nodded. "I know."

"And all of this shit, the bombs and the...getting held up for collateral...they're scary as shit, but I don't...I don't care. And that is scary to me because I know at any minute, he can be taken away. Either by some random act of violence or because he gets sick of me and decides I'm not worth the trouble," she said on a frown. "I yelled at him yesterday, Ang. I told him that if he didn't come home to take care of you, not to bother coming back at all and family first and all this bullshit and then I hung up on him."

Angela smirked, stroking her hand over Evie's hair for a brief moment. Evie turned her little head and grinned up at her mother which made Angela smile. "Evie doll, your Aunt Chlo is insane if she thinks Hap's gonna leave her," she told the baby. "If anything, you just sunk that hook in deeper, Chlo. No girl has ever gone up against him. Just me. He's used to getting his way, and that man loves a challenge."

That seemed to appease her just a bit. "What if he doesn't come back, Ang?"

"He'll come back. He always does."

"Ang..."

Her eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. "I have to believe that, Chlo. I have to. There's...there's so much shit going on, I need to have Happy come back."

"And if he doesn't?"

Angela wiped furiously at her eyes, her lip curling into a sneer. "Then I'm getting the fuck outta Charming and dragging Juice with me."

-------------------

Juice couldn't get the image of Clay's body falling to the ground out of his head as he walked into the cabin later that night. He could still hear the gurgling, see the blood spurting out everywhere. Shooting Clay in the neck had been an asshole move on Jax's part. It was a slow death, drowning in your own blood. A slow, terrifying death. Juice couldn't shake that picture from his mind. If he was going to go, he wanted it to be quick. He didn't want to lie there struggling for breath like Clay had in the brief moments before Jax had filled his chest with lead. He didn't want to feel that. Didn't want to have that time to think of all he was losing.

Clay's last words to him kept playing over and over again in his head: Thank you, brother for today. He'd thanked him. He was delivering him to his own death, and Clay had thanked him. Just thinking about it made him feel sick to his stomach. What had he done? What kind of person was he that he allowed this to happen? This wasn't what he wanted, what he'd signed up for when he'd taken on the prospect's cut. He'd wanted a family, he wanted the brotherhood. He'd never in a million years thought it'd lead to all of this violence. Never thought they'd be voting to kill off brothers. That Jax would have him teetering on this awful edge of being forgiven and being excommunicated or worse, killed.

Because he knew that's what would happen. As soon as Jax was done with him, he'd take him to the table, they'd vote Mayhem, and then they'd kill him. The slow, tortuous death of a rat. Everything he'd worked for, everything he had would be lost all. He'd never get to grow old with his wife or see his daughter grow up. The little family he always wanted would be ripped from him before he even got the chance to enjoy it; a chance to be normal with his girls. And he would feel it. Feel every second of that loss as they killed him, slowly and painfully. Worse, they'd bury him in some ditch somewhere, burn him. Angela wouldn't get to take care of him. Just like Kozik, she wouldn't have that closure. If she was lucky, they'd give her his rings and maybe his bike, but that was it. No grave site for her and Evie to visit, no place to commemorate him. He'd be buried in disgrace, and it would kill her. His heart hurt at the thought of her hurting because of all the stupid shit he'd done. She didn't deserve that.

"Juice," Chibs' voice pulled him from his thoughts. He looked over at the man who had been his sponsor and blinked in confusion. He'd been too deep into his thoughts to hear whatever it was he'd said before. The Scot studied him, a nervous look in his eyes. Clearly, he was still wary of him. Still thought he was breaking down. This time, he was right. "Go home. Clear your head, fuck your girl. Come back tomorrow mornin'."

Juice couldn't do that, of course. Angela still needed a few more weeks to heal before they could have sex so finding a release in her wasn't going to happen, but he didn't tell Chibs. He just nodded and headed out to his bike. His old one. They'd gotten it back from the impound lot, and he'd worked tirelessly to put it all back together.

He rode fast through the winding back roads, contemplating what would happen if he just let go of the handlebars. If he just...let everything go. It'd be a quick end. An honorable death. Much more honorable than the one he was heading for now. He lifted one hand off the handlebars and an image of his little girl's smiling face flashed through his head. He put his hand back down. No, he couldn't. He wasn't going to give up on her. On Angela. This was going to work out.

Walking into his house, he took a deep breath and felt tears come to his eyes when he realized Angela had baked. A plate of black and white cookies sat on the table. She always made them when he had a hard day; it was like she had a sixth sense about it. With a shaky breath, he picked one up and took a big bite, closing them as the comforting taste hit his tongue. If he were ever given the ability to ask for a last meal, he'd make sure these were a part of it.

Grabbing the chocolate almond milk from the fridge, he took a swig straight from the carton and swallowed the bite. He sniffled as he wiped at his eyes. "Keep it together," he muttered to himself.

"Juice?" Angela's sleepy voice came from the couch. He looked over to find her sitting in the living room, her hair a mess. A menu of the Godfather DVD playing on the television. How had he not noticed she was sitting there?

Without a word, he put the milk back and made his way over to her. "Hey baby," he rasped, leaning over to kiss her softly.

"Hi. Are you okay?" she asked, that worry wrinkle appearing between her brows.

He shook his head slowly as he stretched out on the couch, his head in her lap. "No," he managed to say around the lump in his throat.

"I'm sorry, Juice," she whispered sadly. Her warm finger traced over the tattoo on his scalp, relaxing him just a little bit. "I'm so sorry."

He nodded but couldn't bring himself to speak. He could feel the tears leaking down his face and soaking into her pajama pants, but he stayed quiet. Her lips brushed across his head lovingly, and his heart ached at the thought that this might be the last time he ever got to be with her like this. "Love you," he choked out, grabbing her other hand and holding it tightly. He turned his head so he was looking up at her. "So much."

Leaning over, she put her lips to his in a warm kiss, her free hand smoothing over his head. "Its going to be okay, Juice," she assured him. "I love you, and we're going to be okay."

He nodded, trying and failing to give her a smile. He didn't believe her, though. He'd failed her, failed Evie. They both deserved so much better than him. They deserved to be free of this town, of the club, and of him.