💘( Haunted By Memories! )✨

TWO

[ Lochan Mor ]

( 🏍️💀💘👪💒🔫 )

" Happy, huh? Weird name for someone who looks like they've never smiled in their life. "

~ ALFIE TELFORD to HAPPY LOWMAN

☆《》¤

GUEST STARRING

Tom Felton as Daniel "Danny" O'Connor 

☆《》¤

THE ROAR OF MOTORCYCLE ENGINES ERUPTED THROUGH THE STREETS OF IRELAND as SAMCRO arrived in Belfast. The salty air hit them first, followed by the familiar stretch of rugged Irish landscape, greener than anything back home. Despite the tension coiling in their guts, the sight of SAMBEL waiting on the tarmac brought an immediate sense of relief. The distance between the two charters had never felt so small.

Keith McGee, SAMBEL's President, was at the forefront, arms wide, grin plastered across his weathered face. Clay Morrow, SAMCRO's President, wasted no time, stepping forward, his boots hitting the gravel surface first. 

"Too long, brother," McGee said, pulling Clay into a tight hug. The embrace was more than just brotherhood—it was years of history, blood spilled, and loyalty exchanged over countless nights.

"Good to see you, Keith." Clay patted his back with a heavy hand, pulling away just enough to get a good look at the older man. 

"Travel well?"

"We're all in one piece," Clay replied with a smirk, glancing back at his brothers. "That's what matters."

McGee gave an approving nod, clapping Clay's shoulder, "All right. Great, great."

Chibs Telford was next, eyes lighting up as he spotted a familiar face in the crowd. His nephew, Padraic, stood off to the side, arms crossed but a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Without waiting, Chibs stormed over, grinning from ear to ear, "Look at you," he barked, a glint of pride in his voice. "You little bastard. Come here!"

Padraic barely had time to react before Chibs wrapped him in a tight, bone-crushing hug, the kind only family could give. It was rough, full of back-slaps and head locks, but there was an unmistakable tenderness beneath it all.

"It's grand to see you, son," Chibs said, stepping back, though his arm stayed firmly draped around Padraic's shoulders.

"Welcome. I'm really glad you're here, mate." Padraic's voice was genuine, the weight of the situation clear in his eyes, but there was a warmth there—an unspoken bond that stretched beyond bloodlines.

Chibs squeezed his shoulder tighter, addressing the rest of the group with a grin, "The last time I seen this wee shit—"

"Oh, Jesus," Padraic groaned, already dreading the punchline.

"He was in nappies," Chibs declared, turning toward his brothers with a mischievous glint.

"I was 15 at the time."  

The group erupted into laughter, their rough voices carrying over the wind as Padraic was flushed with embarrassment as he shook his head in disbelief and amusement. 

"How's my girls?" Chibs asked, his voice softening as he looked at Padraic, the weight of the last few weeks settling on his shoulders.

"Together," Padraic replied quickly, his face growing serious. "They're safe. The Priest is watching over them."

Chibs let out a long breath, the tension in his chest releasing just a fraction, "Good," he muttered, though the worry lines on his forehead didn't quite smooth out. He pulled Padraic into a half-hug that was more for himself than anything.

O'Neill, who had been standing to the side, nodded respectfully, "Meet's being arranged."

Chibs gave him a curt nod, "You're good boys," he said, pulling both Padraic and O'Neill into a rough embrace. "Thank you. Thank you."

The exchange was brief but heartfelt, the weight of what lay ahead hanging between them.

McGee stepped closer to Clay, his voice dropping low, tension flickering in his words, "Hey, this thing with O'Neill...we okay?"

Clay's gaze locked with McGee's, holding it for a beat longer than necessary. There was something unspoken in the air, but Clay gave a slow, deliberate nod, "Yeah."

McGee searched his face for any hesitation but found none. He let out a breath and slapped Clay's shoulder, "All right. Let's get you fellas home, huh?"

The group started to move, the subtle rumble of motorbikes started again as they mounted the ones SAMBEL had prepped for them. The connection between SAMCRO and SAMBEL was tangible, as thick as the Irish mist that hung over the horizon.

Chibs swung his leg over the bike and revved the engine, casting one last look at Padraic. His heart was heavy, but for now, they were together, and that was all that mattered.

As they roared down the road, the tension between the charters melted away, at least for the moment. The road stretched ahead, dark and full of uncertainty, but they weren't facing it alone.

Belfast had welcomed them with open arms, but the war was just beginning.

***

ALFIE'S OUTFIT 

ALFIE'S TATTOOS 

Inside the chapel of the SAMBEL clubhouse, the air was thick with tension. SAMBEL and SAMCRO members sat around the table, discussing club business, when Juice suddenly burst through the doors, panting and slightly panicked.

"We got visitors," Juice managed to say, barely catching his breath.

Everyone immediately shot up, chairs scraping the floor as they hurried out of the chapel, piling into the clubhouse lot.

As the crowd gathered outside, a sleek black Land Rover Defender pulled up, its engine rumbling low as it came to a stop. The door swung open, and a girl stepped out, her movements deliberate and confident.

As Happy stepped out of the clubhouse, his sharp gaze fell on the unfamiliar car pulling up to the front. The Belfast air was crisp, carrying a sense of foreboding, but what really caught his attention was the woman who emerged from the driver's seat.

She stepped out of the car with a fluidity that suggested both strength and caution. Her dark hair, long and unruly, cascaded over her shoulders. She moved with a subtle grace, like someone used to keeping their guard up, but it was her eyes that struck Happy first—icy and alert, scanning the area as if assessing potential threats. There was something in the way she held herself, a hardness beneath the surface, the kind of Armor people build after surviving things others don't come back from.

Her expression was a mix of defiance and weariness, her jaw set tight as she shut the car door. Happy could tell right away she wasn't the type to be easily messed with. A cigarette hung from her lips, its end glowing faintly in the afternoon light. She took a drag, exhaling slowly, her posture relaxed but with an underlying tension, as if she was ready for anything.

He'd seen plenty of tough women in his life, but she was different. She wasn't trying to show off or play the part - she simply was. From her combat boots to her unreadable expression, she gave off the kind of energy that told Happy she was no stranger to trouble. She didn't flinch at the sight of him standing there, his kutte marking him as SAMCRO. If anything, she seemed unimpressed.

Their eyes locked briefly, and in that moment, Happy knew she was trouble—the kind that didn't back down, the kind that didn't need saving. 

Chibs pushed his way through the crowd of his brothers, his heart pounding in his chest. His eyes widened when they landed on her, recognition and disbelief hitting him all at once.

"My God," Chibs muttered, his voice thick with emotion. "It's my baby girl."

Alfie, scanning the area with sharp, calculated glances—her army training clear in the way she held herself—caught sight of him. The moment their eyes met, all the tension melted away. Pure, unfiltered joy swept across her face.

"Papa!" Alfie called out, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Rosie!" Chibs shouted, his voice a mix of elation and disbelief.

They ran toward each other, feet pounding the ground as they closed the distance. When they finally reached one another, Alfie leaped into her father's arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as he lifted her effortlessly.

Chibs laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep within, the decades of separation vanishing in an instant. He spun her around, gripping her tightly as if he never wanted to let her go.

When he finally set her back on the ground, he cupped her face in his hands, staring at her as though she were a miracle; tears shimmered in both their eyes.

"My little rose," Chibs whispered, his voice barely audible.

Alfie smiled softly, her own hands reaching up to caress his cheek, "Hey, Pa." 

They stood there, face to face, tears spilling as they stared at each other in awe, overwhelmed by the reunion neither of them had dared to dream about.

Chibs pulled her into another tight embrace, his tears mingling with hers as they clung to each other, "I missed ya," he said, kissing her cheek. His voice cracked with the weight of all the years lost.

When Chibs was banished from Belfast, Alfie was only three—far too young to understand why her father had disappeared from her life. But as she grew older, the absence became a painful void. The love she had for him, though blurred by distance and time, never faded.

At thirteen, rebellious and determined, Alfie stumbled upon Chibs' number. She had spent years longing for a connection with her real father, and without thinking twice, she called him. The first time she heard his voice on the other end of the line, it was like a missing piece of her heart had been restored. Chibs, stunned and overjoyed, couldn't believe it was his daughter. That phone call marked the beginning of their secret relationship, a bond forged in hushed conversations and stolen moments when no one was watching.

For over a year, Alfie and Chibs kept in touch, sharing stories, laughs, and tears. Despite the distance and the danger, they rebuilt their relationship over the phone. Chibs became the father she had always craved, offering her words of wisdom, love, and support even though they couldn't be together in person.

But Jimmy, ever the tyrant, eventually discovered the secret. His rage was brutal and unforgiving. The punishment he dealt Alfie for defying him was severe, a reminder of his iron grip over her life. Yet, despite the pain and the fear, and the scars that now scattered her body, Alfie didn't care. To her, the connection she had rekindled with her father was worth the price she paid. She had something Jimmy could never take from her—her father's love.

When she turned eighteen, Alfie finally escaped the horrors of Jimmy's control and joined the British Army. It was her way out, her ticket to freedom. She gained contact with Chibs again, albeit through the occasional assistance of Kellan. The phone calls resumed, more sporadic but filled with the same depth and longing. Every time they spoke, Chibs encouraged her to live her life, proud of her service and independence.

But despite the reconnection, they never had the chance to see each other face-to-face. Whenever Chibs returned to Ireland, Alfie was away on missions, her role in the army keeping her distant from home. The years continued to stretch on, filled with missed opportunities and fleeting phone calls that never quite bridged the gap between them.

Now, standing before each other in the SAMBEL lot, it was the first time in over a decade that they were truly together again. Alfie was no longer the little girl Chibs had left behind but a grown woman, hardened by life, moulded by war, and yet still the daughter who had defied all the odds to keep him in her life. Their bond, though built in secret and sustained by distance, was stronger than ever. The years apart only fuelled their need for each other, and now, for the first time in so long, they could finally embrace the relationship they had fought so hard to maintain.

"I missed you too, Pa," Alfie whispered back, her voice trembling as she wiped her tears away.

After a long moment, Alfie stepped back, regaining her composure as she motioned toward the van that had pulled up alongside the Defender, "You have some visitors," she said, nodding toward it. "They couldn't wait to see you." 

Chibs turned, his breath catching in his throat as he saw Fiona step out of the van, followed by Kerrianne. His steps faltered as he slowly approached them, heart hammering in his chest. He hadn't seen Kerrianne in years—the daughter—he barely knew at all.

When Chibs was banished from Belfast, Kerrianne was just a baby, barely one year old. She had no memories of him, no experiences to anchor their bond. Her father was more of a ghostly figure in her life—a name spoken in hushed tones or omitted entirely from conversations. While Alfie, her older sister, fought to maintain a connection with Chibs, Kerrianne was left to grow up in his absence, forming no real attachment to the man who should have been her protector and guide.

For Kerrianne, Chibs was a stranger. She grew up with stories about him, mostly skewed through the bitter lens of Jimmy O'Phelan, her stepfather. Whatever fleeting memories existed of her real father were shaped by the people around her, not by any true experience of her own. As she grew older, the concept of Chibs felt more like an abstract idea—someone she should have known but never really did. The emotional gap between them widened as time passed, with Chibs always a distant figure in her life, out of reach and out of sight.

Unlike Alfie, who had secretly nurtured her relationship with their father, Kerrianne never had that rebellious streak to seek him out. For her, Chibs' absence was a reality she accepted, a gaping hole in her family that couldn't be filled by stories or occasional mentions. She wasn't angry, but there was an undeniable wariness—a sense of not knowing what to feel or how to react to the man she had never truly known.

"Hi," Chibs said, his voice quiet, almost unsure.

Fiona sighed in relief, her lips curling into a small smile, "Hi."

The briefest of kisses passed between them, a small gesture of warmth and familiarity. But Chibs' attention quickly turned to Kerrianne, the daughter he had lost so much time with. She stood there, watching him with wide, wary eyes.

Chibs swallowed hard, "Hi. How're ye doin'?"

Kerrianne shifted uncomfortably, her expression cautious, uncertain, "Hi," she replied, her voice small, barely audible.

Chibs took a deep breath, his eyes scanning her face, "Jesus, look at ya," he said softly, his voice full of pride and awe at the young woman standing before him.

He took a hesitant step forward, waiting for her permission. When Kerrianne's lips curved into a small, hesitant smile, Chibs slowly moved in, wrapping his arms around her gently. Her arms came up to return the hug, and he held her close, savouring the moment he'd waited for so long.

Fiona and Alfie joined them then, wrapping their arms around the two, forming a tight circle of family. They held onto each other, crying softly—tears of joy, relief, and love as years of pain, separation, and longing melted away.

For the first time in so long, they were finally together. And nothing was going to tear them apart again. 

***

DANNY'S OUTFIT 

SAMCRO and the Telford family gathered around the worn-out bar and lounge area of the SAMBEL clubhouse. A heavy tension hung in the air, as they tried to make sense of the chaos surrounding them. Fiona sat at the edge of her seat, her face marked with exhaustion and a hint of defeat. Across from her, Alfie leaned against the wall, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes narrowed in frustration.

Fiona broke the silence, her voice soft but filled with frustration, "I have no idea why Jimmy lied. I'm not privy to his plans anymore. He doesn't trust me."

Alfie scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Can you blame him?"

Her words cut through the air sharply. Everyone in the room tensed, but none more than Chibs, who gave his daughter a hard look, his voice firm and full of warning, "Oi, watch your mouth, lass. I know ye've got yer own feelings 'bout things, but that's your mother. You'll show her respect, or we'll be havin' words, you and me."

Alfie immediately froze, her expression faltering at her father's reprimand. She had never been scolded by him before, and the weight of his stern gaze caught her off guard, "But, Pa--" she opened her mouth to protest, but seeing the unwavering resolve in his eyes, she shut it just as quickly. Her shoulders slumped, as she crossed her arms tightly, pouting like a child, "Fine...Sorry, Ma," she muttered, kicking at the ground with the toe of her boot. Despite her annoyance, there was a flicker of something softer in her eyes. Maybe a part of her—deep down—felt strangely content to finally be on the receiving end of her father's discipline, something she'd missed growing up.

Chibs, satisfied but not relenting, turned back to Fiona. His tone was softer now, but still heavy with concern, "Do ye at least know what he's been up to since he got back?"

Before Fiona could respond, Alfie cut in, her voice calm and steady, "Recruiting. He's been spotted at his bar in Newry pretty much day and night."

The room went quiet as everyone stared at her, taken aback by how much she knew. Even Chibs raised an eyebrow at his daughter's surprising intel. Alfie simply shrugged, giving them all a casual look.

"What?" she said, her tone as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I know things. First rule they teach you in the army: know your enemy."

Jax leaned forward, eyeing Fiona, "What about O'Neill? He on Jimmy's permanent payroll?"

"Probably," Alfie muttered under her breath, her dislike for O'Neill clear in her tone. 

Fiona shook her head, "Not that I know of. But like I said, these past few months, I've been in the dark. Sorry I have nothing that helps."

Gemma nodded gently, "It's okay. Thank you," she said, as the two of them shared a tight smile. 

Before anyone could say more, the heavy wooden doors of the clubhouse creaked open, and Daniel O'Connor stepped inside, looking every bit like the soldier he used to be, his eyes scanning the room quickly before settling on Alfie, "Start wrapping it up, Al," he said in his no-nonsense tone of his. "We need to get going. Kell wants Fi and Kerri to stay at the rectory."

Alfie's head snapped up, a scowl forming instantly, "What? No way, that place is like a bloody fortress."

Danny smirked, unfazed by her outburst, "I think that's the point."

Kerrianne, who had been quiet the entire time, finally spoke, her voice filled with fear and uncertainty, "Jimmy really gonna try to hurt us, Ma?"

Alfie's expression softened immediately as she pushed off the wall, walking over and kneeling down in front of her younger sister, cupping her face gently, "Hey, remember what I said?"

Kerrianne smiled weakly, nodding, "The bastard would have to get through you first."

They shared a small chuckle, the sound so light it momentarily eased the tension in the room. And Chibs couldn't help but smile fondly at the sight. It was a bittersweet moment—seeing how much they cared for each other, despite the danger looming ahead.

Danny stepped forward then, his tone more gentler, "And me too." His eyes softened as he looked at Kerrianne, "I ain't gonna let anyone hurt you, Ker." 

Kerrianne smiled up at him, "Thanks, Danny."

Alfie stood back up, her arms crossed over her chest, "Come on, can't they stay for a while? My Pa just got here. I can get 'em there safe."

Danny shook his head, wary, "I don't know, Al. Anything happens to these two, Kell'll have my head."

Alfie's eyes narrowed, "You think I can't take care of my own family?!"

Danny raised an eyebrow, challenging her, "You armed?"

Alfie didn't miss a beat, pulling out her gun and showing it to him with a proud smirk, "What do you think?"

Danny chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief, "Once a soldier, always a soldier, huh?"

Alfie grinned, "Hell yeah!" 

Danny sighed, relenting, "All right, tonight then. But no later, or Kell will have me hung out like last night's washing."

Alfie's grin widened, "I'd love to see that."

Danny rolled his eyes, chuckling softly, "Of course you would."

He turned to leave, but Alfie's voice stopped him, "Hey, idiot..."

Danny paused, glancing back at her, "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Danny's smile was small, but sincere, "Anything for you, sis." Without hesitation, he stepped forward, kissing her cheek, before finally leaving the room.

Daniel O'Connor and his younger brother, Liam O'Connor, were taken in by Father Kellan Ashby at a young age. Growing up under Kellan's care and guidance, they saw the priest as a father figure and adopted his principles of loyalty and service. They both later joined the British Army and served with distinction, serving alongside Alfie. Danny and Liam became Kellan's most trusted men, capable of carrying out difficult and morally ambiguous orders, as of recently, Danny had been ordered to kill Cameron Hayes, which he did without question.

Danny is also the closest thing Alfie has ever had to a brother. Their bond was forged in childhood, growing up in the same harsh environment under Kellan's care, and later deepened when they served together. 

And when Liam died, his death left a permanent scar on both of them. The shared grief over his death is a significant part of their relationship. Alfie looks up to Danny not just as an older brother figure but as someone who understands her pain in a way few others can. 

***

The kitchen in the clubhouse was alive with unfamiliar energy; it was bustling, filled with the smells of cooking and the quiet hum of voices. Alfie was at the stove, stirring a pot of stew, while Kerrianne set the table with slow, cautious movements, as though she were unsure of how to proceed in such a foreign situation.

Fiona leaned against the counter, eyes flicking between her daughters, a small, almost hesitant smile tugging at her lips. It had been so long since any of them had shared a meal together like this, and the gravity of the moment wasn't lost on her.

"This feels...strange, doesn't it?" Fiona finally said, her voice soft as she watched Kerrianne place down the last plate.

Kerrianne shrugged, her eyes downcast, "I guess." It was clear she didn't know what to make of the situation either. For her, it felt more like stepping into someone else's life rather than her own. This wasn't the normal she'd grown up with.

Alfie, catching the mood, turned from the stove, wiping her hands on a dish towel, "Strange is better than nothing," she said, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. "Plus, I don't think you'll find anyone in this clubhouse who's gonna complain about free food."

Kerrianne's lips twitched into the barest hint of a smile, but she quickly ducked her head, busying herself with adjusting the silverware. It was clear she still wasn't used to this—being part of something as simple and domestic as family dinner.

Alfie turned back to the stew, giving it one final stir, before shutting off the burner, "All right, it's ready," she announced, grabbing the pot and bringing it over to the table. "Hope you're all hungry."

Before anyone could respond, the kitchen door opened, and in walked Chibs, the familiar creak of his leather kutte echoing through the hall. He paused at the doorway, his eyes scanning the room, "Smells bloody good in here," he said, flashing a warm grin.

"Pa," Alfie greeted with a faint smile. "You're just in time."

Fiona straightened up, her expression softening as Chibs approached the table, "Our daughter's quite the chef," she said, her voice laced with affection.

Chibs smiled warmly at Fiona and gave her a nod, "I bet she is. Feels like a family reunion in here."

Kerrianne's eyes lit up as soon as she saw Chibs, "Hey, Pa," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but her relief was clear. She wasn't used to feeling safe. But somehow with her family all together at once, she did. Strangely enough, the man she never knew as her father's presence gave her that. Chibs sent his youngest daughter a wink as he sat down.

Alfie served the stew, handing out bowls with quiet efficiency, while Fiona poured water into glasses. Kerrianne sat between them, her hands fidgeting in her lap as she looked at the food in front of her.

Fiona sat down last, eyeing her daughters and her husband with a strange mixture of pride and sadness, "It's been a long time since we've done this," she said, more to herself than anyone else.

Kerrianne, feeling the weight of her mother's gaze, finally looked up, "I don't think we've ever done this." 

Fiona flinched slightly at her daughter's words, but she didn't argue. She knew it was true. This was the first real dinner they'd ever had as a family—without the looming presence of Jimmy O'Phelan casting a dark shadow over them.

Alfie took a bite of her stew, then glanced at her sister, "What do you think? I'm a little rusty."

Kerrianne took a tentative spoonful, chewing slowly before nodding, "It's good," she said quietly, her voice small but genuine.

Alfie grinned, a flicker of pride crossing her face, "See? Told you I could cook."

The small exchange seemed to ease the tension just a little, and for a brief moment, the weight of the past lifted. They ate in relative silence, but it was a comfortable silence, one that spoke of tentative steps toward something new—something better.

Chibs leaned back in his chair, taking in the scene with quiet satisfaction, "Yer a natural, lass," he said, nodding at Alfie.

"I wouldn't go that far," Alfie replied with a smirk, but there was a softness to her tone. She glanced at Kerrianne, who was quietly eating, her presence in the room feeling fragile, as though the wrong word could shatter her.

As the meal progressed, Fiona watched her daughters interact, her heart heavy with a mixture of guilt and hope. She hadn't been the mother they needed—not for a long time. But sitting here now, watching them eat together, she couldn't help but feel like maybe—just maybe—they had a chance to rebuild. 

When the meal was nearly finished, Alfie sat back in her chair, letting out a contented sigh, "Not bad for a last-minute dinner, huh?"

Kerrianne nodded, her eyes still downcast, but there was a softness to her expression now that hadn't been there before, "Yeah, it was good."

Fiona reached out, placing a hand on Kerrianne's arm, her voice soft and tentative, "We can do this more often, if you'd like. I know we've missed a lot of time, but...we could try."

Kerrianne didn't respond right away, her eyes flicking between her mother, Alfie, and Chibs. She seemed uncertain, as though she didn't quite trust the idea yet. But after a moment, she gave a small nod, "Maybe," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "We'll see."

Alfie watched the exchange, her heart aching for her sister. Kerrianne had been through so much—more than any of them could fully understand. But if this was a step toward healing, Alfie would take it, no matter how slow or uncertain it was.

Chibs, sensing the weight of the moment, reached out and ruffled Kerrianne's hair gently, a gesture that brought a small, genuine smile to her lips, "We'll take it one day at a time, aye?"

Kerrianne nodded, a tiny spark of hope in her eyes, "Yeah...one day at a time."

As they cleared the table together, the unspoken promise hung in the air. They weren't fixed—not by a long shot—but for the first time in decades, there was something that felt close to hope.

And for now, that was enough.

***

The sun had dipped lower behind the hills, casting the streets of Belfast in an eerie twilight as Alfie drove her black Defender down the narrow roads. Tension hung heavy in the air inside the vehicle. Fiona sat in the back seat beside Kerrianne, both women quiet as they processed the chaos of the past twenty four hours. Chibs sat in the passenger seat, his gaze darting between Alfie and the road, his jaw set tightly.

Chibs' presence was comforting, but the silence was oppressive. Alfie's fingers drummed on the steering wheel as she tried to focus, but her mind kept straying. She could feel the weight of her father's eyes on her, watching her closely, likely noticing the subtle signs of tension rippling through her body. She couldn't afford to let her thoughts drift, not with Jimmy lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike.

"How much further?" Chibs finally asked, breaking the silence, his thick Scottish accent cutting through the air.

"About ten minutes," Alfie replied, her voice tight as she glanced at him. "We'll be at the rectory soon."

"Good," Chibs muttered. "Best place for your ma and Kerri right now."

Kerrianne leaned forward slightly, gnawing at her bottom lip, "Do you really think we'll be safe at the rectory, Pa?" she asked, her voice wavering.

Chibs turned in his seat to face his youngest daughter, his features softening, "Aye. As safe as ye can be, love. Jimmy'll think twice about tryin' anything near Kellan's stronghold."

Kerrianne nodded but didn't seem convinced, while Fiona stayed quiet, staring out the window as the city passed by.

Alfie gave them both a tight smile through the rear-view mirror, trying to keep her cool, but inside, her nerves were starting to fray. The roads were too quiet. She couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. She glanced over at Chibs, who seemed calm on the surface, but she could sense the unease radiating off him. 

The tension built as they approached a crossroad, and Alfie's gut instinct was screaming at her to be cautious. Her foot hovered over the brake when the first shot rang out.

BANG!

The back window exploded in a spray of glass, and the Defender jerked violently to the side. Alfie's heart stopped. Gunfire. The deafening sound pulled her back to a place she had tried so hard to forget.

"Get down!" she screamed, her voice instinctively taking on the authority of a soldier as her foot slammed on the accelerator, her hands gripping the steering wheel like it was her family's lifeline as Chibs roared the command at the same time, instinctively reaching for his gun. 

More shots rang out, echoing in the streets. The car swerved as Alfie fought to keep control, her vision blurring as flashes of her suppressed memories crashed over her like a tidal wave. She was back there—back in that God-forsaken desert. The sound of gunfire, the screams of her comrades, the smell of blood. 

Liam.

Liam's face appeared in her mind, his voice, the last thing he'd said to her before he was gone forever.

"I love you, Alfie. Remember, with every heartbeat, every breath, and every step you take, I am with you. You are my light, my heart, my everything. Don't let the pain overpower you. Keep living, for the both of us."

"No, no, no," Alfie muttered, her breathing rapid and shallow. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles white as she tried to force herself to focus. The road blurred in front of her as the weight of panic settled heavily on her chest, making it hard to breathe. The walls of the Defender felt like they were closing in on her.

"Alfie!" Chibs shouted, his voice sharp and full of urgency.

But she couldn't hear him. 

Alfie blinked rapidly, trying to push the memories away, but they clung to her like a second skin. Her vision swamed with images of Liam's body on the ground, lifeless, blood soaking the dirt around him. The sound of the shots firing around her became indistinguishable from the ones she'd heard that day.

"Alfie, breathe," Chibs yelled, reaching over to grab her arm, shaking her slightly.

The car skidded as Alfie struggled to pull herself back into the moment. The streets of Belfast blurred, the gunfire mixing with the sounds of the war still raging in her mind. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably as she swerved into a side street, trying to escape the onslaught.

"Christ, lass, focus! We need ye!" Chibs' voice broke through the haze, and Alfie blinked rapidly, her heart still pounding as her vision cleared enough to see the road in front of her.

Her eyes darted to the rear-view mirror, seeing her sister and mother huddled low in the back seat, terror written all over their faces. 

She slammed on the brakes, hard, skidding the Defender down an alleyway. The car fishtailed as Alfie wrestled for control, managing to turn them into a more secluded street. Her chest was heaving, and her hands shook uncontrollably, but she forced herself to push through the panic. The gunfire had stopped for the moment, but Alfie wasn't taking any chances as she slammed the car into park, gasping for air as her hands refused to stop shaking. She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white, trying desperately to steady her breathing. But the flashbacks wouldn't stop. The desert. The gunfire. Liam.

"Alfie!" Chibs reached for her, his strong hand cupping her face and forcing her to look at him. His voice was softer now, but still firm, "Lass, ye're here. Ye're safe. Look at me."

Her wide, panicked eyes met his, and she blinked, trying to focus on his face instead of the images flooding her mind. Slowly, his voice grounded her, pulling her out of the nightmare.

"Breathe, darlin'. Slow. Just breathe," Chibs said gently, his thumb brushing her cheek as he held her face steady.

Alfie's chest heaved as she forced herself to take slow, deep breaths, focusing on the feeling of her father's hand against her skin, his voice anchoring her. The weight of panic began to lift, little by little, though the tremors in her hands remained.

"I-I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking as she wiped at the tears she hadn't realised were falling.

Kerrianne, wide-eyed but unhurt, leaned forward from the backseat, wrapping her arms around Alfie's neck, "It's okay, sis," she whispered. "You saved us. We're all safe because of you."

Alfie let out a shaky breath, resting her forehead against the steering wheel for a moment, trying to pull herself together. Her father's hand didn't leave her shoulder, offering silent support as she steadied herself.

Chibs finally leaned back, looking over at Fiona and Kerrianne, "Ye alright?" he asked, his voice gruff but filled with concern.

"Aye, we're fine," Fiona replied, though her face was pale. She reached out and placed a gentle hand on Alfie's shoulder, "You did it, sweetheart. You got us out." 

Alfie nodded, though the lingering weight of guilt and panic still clung to her. She straightened up in her seat, wiping her face once more, "We're okay," she muttered, her voice hoarse. "We're okay." 

Chibs gave her a long, searching look, his eyes soft with worry, "Aye, lass. Ye did good. But we need to move. Get your ma and Kerrianne somewhere safe." 

Alfie nodded, the adrenaline still pumping through her veins. She took another deep breath, shifting the car back into drive, her hands still trembling slightly as she steeled herself.

The road ahead was uncertain, but her family needed her—and she wasn't going to let them down. Not again.

Chibs' hand lingered on her shoulder for a moment longer, before he withdrew it, his face a mixture of pride and concern as they drove on in tense silence, making their way to safety.

***

The heavy wooden doors of the chapel creaked open as Chibs and Alfie walked in. The gathered men, both from SAMBEL and SAMCRO, were seated in tense silence around the large table, their faces hard with worry. Conversations halted mid-sentence as all eyes snapped toward the pair, the atmosphere thick with concern. Alfie's expression was one of steely control, but the edges of her composure were frayed, barely holding it together after the chaos of the shooting.

Juice was the first to break the silence, his voice low and urgent, "Fi and Kerri okay?" he asked, bringing Alfie in for a hug and placing a kiss on the top of her forehead. 

Alfie and Juice were pretty close, even though they hadn't met in person until now. Their friendship started organically, with small moments during her regular check-ins with her father. Juice was often the one answering the prepaid phone left in the clubhouse that Alfie used to contact him, and at first, the exchanges were brief—just, 'Hey, Alfie, Chibs isn't around. Want me to tell him you called?' But after a few of these quick interactions, the conversations started to stretch. Maybe Chibs wasn't there yet, or maybe Alfie had some extra time and wasn't in a rush to hang up.

Juice, always eager to chat and surprisingly good at finding something to talk about, would fill the silence with random bits about his day, club gossip, or tech stuff Alfie pretended to care about. She, in turn, would share a sarcastic quip or tease him about how his tech skills probably made him the club's bitch. They'd exchange frustrations about the life they lived from different perspectives—Alfie, with her military background and deeper connections to Belfast, and Juice, from the tech side of things, often feeling like he wasn't taken seriously enough.

As the calls became more frequent, their friendship developed a comfortable rhythm. Alfie would tease Juice for his sometimes clueless tendencies, usually by saying things like, 'Brilliant with computers, hopeless with common sense'. And Juice would jokingly call her 'Miss Serious' whenever she got too caught up in her military mindset. Their bond was rooted in humour and mutual respect, with Juice often laughing at how Alfie, despite her tough exterior, could be just as sarcastic and sharp as he was.

Though they had never met in person, their rapport felt natural, as if they had been close for years. By the time they'd finally met face-to-face, their dynamic was already well-established—Juice's laid-back, easy-going personality complementing Alfie's sharp wit and no-nonsense attitude perfectly.

Alfie gave a quick nod, the faintest appreciative smile tugging at the corners of her lips, "Yeah. Danny picked 'em up at the back of the rectory. They're safe." She couldn't let herself think about how close they'd come to being far from okay. 

Clay leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he scanned their faces, "Any idea who the shooter was?"

Chibs exhaled sharply, running a hand over his tired face, "Had to have been Jimmy."

Alfie immediately shook her head, her jaw clenched as guilt gnawed at her insides, "No, it wasn't." She glanced around the room, trying to read their faces before continuing. "It was the UVF. The Ulster Volunteers are radical Loyalists. They know Ma's with Jimmy, so they've probably been stalking her since she showed up here." Her voice cracked slightly, the weight of her mistake pressing down hard, "I can't believe I didn't notice. I'm such an idiot," she scolded herself, the words bitter on her tongue. She'd been trained to see threats, to protect those she loved, and she'd missed it.

Chibs immediately stepped closer, his voice low and firm, "Hey, this is not your fault, you hear me?" His hand rested on her shoulder, grounding her. His tone left no room for argument, but the guilt still gnawed at her.

Liam leaned forward from his spot at the table, shaking his head, "Them and the P&P's are bloody overwhelmed. All the recruiting Jimmy's been doing down south, stirring the pot. UVF's not gonna sit back and let it happen."

Chibs' frustration flared, his voice taking on a darker edge, "So, they're gunning down women and children now?! That's what they're resorting to?!" 

Liam leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, "They wanted to kill you, you'd be dead. Trust me on that, brother."

Alfie, her arms folded tightly across her chest, nodded grimly. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right, "As much as I hate to say it, but he's right, Pa." She glanced at Chibs, knowing the truth of the matter, "The UVF was using Ma and Kerri to send a message to Jimmy—to cease and desist."

The weight of it all hung in the air like a storm cloud about to break. The room fell silent, the gravity of the situation sinking in for both charters.

"Jesus Christ," Clay muttered, leaning back in his chair. The exhaustion of leadership was etched deep into his face. Belfast wasn't just a warzone; it was a spider's web of allegiances and vendettas.

Alfie, despite the turmoil brewing inside her, allowed a small smirk to curve her lips. She turned to the SAMCRO boys, her eyes hard but with a glint of something almost playful—dark humour born from surviving the worst, "You ain't in Charming anymore, boys."

Jax exchanged glances with Opie and Bobby, the reality of Belfast setting in deeper than ever.

***

Alfie shut the bathroom door behind her, her hands shaking. She pressed her back against the door, her breathing shallow and ragged, each breath a battle against the memories clawing their way to the surface. The sounds of the clubhouse outside grew distant, muffled beneath the ringing in her ears. She needed to get a grip, to push it all back down. But this time, it was different. This time, the flood wouldn't stop.

She made her way to the sink, her steps unsteady, and stared into the mirror. The face staring back at her was a stranger—pale, gaunt, her eyes hollow and red. This wasn't her. This couldn't be her.

"Pathetic."

The voice made her freeze, her blood running cold. She knew it, all too well. 

Liam. 

But it wasn't the Liam she remembered—the one who loved her, who whispered sweet reassurances into her ear late at night. No, this was the other Liam. The one who haunted her in the dead of night, when she was at her weakest. The one who twisted her memories, warped them into something dark.

Her breath hitched as she saw him. His reflection stood behind hers in the mirror, leaning casually against the wall. His eyes weren't warm anymore. They were cold, hard, filled with the weight of her guilt.

"You're not real," she whispered, her voice trembling as her grip on the sink tightened. She shut her eyes, willing the hallucination away, but when she opened them again, he was still there, smirking at her.

"Not real? No, love. I'm as real as your guilt. As real as the blood on your hands."

Alfie shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut again. She couldn't do this. Not now. Not again, "Leave me alone," she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper.

Liam stepped forward, his reflection looming behind her in the mirror. His presence was suffocating, his words sharp as daggers, "Leave you alone? You think you deserve that? After what you did?" His tone was cold, venomous. Nothing like the man she had loved.

Alfie's knees buckled, and she sank to the floor, pressing her back against the wall beneath the mirror. Her arms wrapped around herself as her body shook with sobs. The bathroom was spinning, suffocating, the walls closing in on her.

"You...you died because of me..." she gasped between sobs, her fingers digging into her arms as if trying to keep herself together, to stop herself from completely falling apart.

"Because of you?" Liam's voice was mocking now, a cruel laugh following his words. "Of course it was because of you. You led us into that trap. You made the call. You might as well have pulled the trigger yourself."

She pressed her hands to her ears, trying to block him out, but his voice only grew louder.

"Look at you. A shell of who you used to be. You think being a soldier makes you strong? You couldn't even save me. You failed!"

Tears streamed down her face as she rocked back and forth on the cold tile, her breaths coming in shallow, painful gasps. She was spiralling, her mind collapsing under the weight of his words, "Stop..." she begged, her voice breaking. "Please, just stop."

Liam crouched down in front of her, his eyes dark and unforgiving, "You can try to run from it, Alfie, but you can never run from me. I'm in here now," he tapped a finger against his temple. "I'll always be here, reminding you of what you did."

She opened her eyes, and there he was, right in front of her, inches from her face, his breath cold on her skin. For a moment, she could smell the faint scent of gunpowder and blood, a cruel reminder of that day. Of the carnage she had led them into.

"You're not real," she whispered again, this time her voice barely audible, her chest tightening as the panic overwhelmed her. But even as she said the words, her heart knew the truth.

"Real enough to haunt you, my love. Real enough to make sure you never forget."

And just like that, he was gone.

Alfie's body went limp, collapsing against the wall as a sob tore through her. She buried her face in her hands, her tears soaking her palms. The guilt, the pain—it was all too much. It had been too much for so long. She thought she had buried it deep enough. She thought she could move on. But she couldn't. Not when Liam's ghost clung to her like a shadow, feeding off the guilt she couldn't shake.

She wasn't the woman in the mirror anymore. She wasn't the strong - the fearless soldier she had pretended to be.

She was broken.

But then suddenly, the door to the bathroom swung open, and before she could even register what was happening, a man stepped inside. He was tall, heavily tattooed, and radiated a calm but intimidating presence. His eyes fell on her immediately.

"Who the hell are you?!" Alfie scrambled to her feet, hastily wiping her tears away and trying to compose herself. Her voice was sharp, defensive, the sudden vulnerability making her pulse race, "I don't know where the hell you are from, but here in Belfast, it's usually customary to knock before you walk into a room. Especially the bathroom!"

The man stood there, unphased by her outburst. His eyes narrowed slightly, assessing the situation, "Didn't know anyone was in here," he replied gruffly, his voice low—He didn't even apologise. 

"Well, now you know. Get out!" Alfie's heart pounded in her chest as she tried to maintain some semblance of control. She didn't know him, and the last thing she wanted was for a stranger to see her like this—broken and vulnerable.

He didn't move right away, simply looked her up and down, his face unreadable, "You alright?"

Alfie's anger flared at the question, "I'm fine," she declared, crossing her arms over her chest. "Just go."

He raised an eyebrow that said, 'really?' before saying, "A girl crying in a bathroom alone doesn't exactly scream fine to me." 

Alfie wiped the back of her hand across her eyes, her jaw tightening as she shot him a defiant look, "Maybe you don't know what 'fine' looks like for me," she muttered, her voice hoarse but steady. "I'm not some fragile little thing. I don't break that easily." she sniffed, crossing her arms over her chest as if to physically shield herself, "So yeah, I'm in a bathroom. Yeah, I'm cryin'. Doesn't mean I'm falling apart. Just means I need a minute." She paused, her eyes flashing with that familiar Telford fire, "But if you think you're gonna come in here and play the hero, you can piss off."

Happy stared at her for a long moment, his eyes narrowing as he processed her words. His jaw clenched slightly, and without breaking eye contact, he let out a low, dismissive grunt, "All right then," he muttered, his voice rough but not unkind.

As he turned to leave, Alfie's frustration boiled over, "And next time, knock!" she called after him, her voice trembling with both anger and something else—embarrassment, maybe, or shame.

As he reached for the door handle, he paused for a second, as if he was going to say something else. But instead, he simply shook his head and left the bathroom without another word, the door swinging shut behind him with a quiet thud.

***

There was a party going on in the lot of SAMBEL's clubhouse, but Alfie wanted to be alone, so she made her way around to compound, finding a secluded spot where the cheers and applauds of the fight happening between Jax and Liam were barely audible.

The cool night air breathed against her face, causing her air to dance in the wind. She pulled her jacket, that Maureen had hand knitted her, tighter around herself. 

Maureen had been a constant, caring presence in Alfie's life from a young age, especially when her own family life was filled with turmoil. Though Maureen wasn't her biological mother, she treated Alfie like her own, providing warmth and stability during the hardest times. Whether it was a place to stay, a meal, or simply a comforting ear, Maureen was always there, offering unconditional support and guidance.

For Alfie, Maureen wasn't just 'Trinity's mum'. She was someone she could count on, someone who stood by her no matter the chaos around them. In return, Alfie was fiercely loyal to Maureen. Whenever Maureen needed help, Alfie showed up, no questions asked, always ready to defend and protect her. Which often worked both ways. There was a deep, mutual respect between them that had been built over years of shared moments—quiet conversations in the kitchen, laughter during family gatherings, and even the tougher times when words weren't enough.

Alfie often felt like she had two homes—one with her estranged family and one with the Ashbys. Maureen's presence gave her the sense of family she had craved, and in her eyes, Maureen would always be more than just her best friend's mother. She was a second mother, a figure she would defend and care for as fiercely as she did her own. 

Fishing a cigarette from her pocket, desperate for a moment of quiet. The evening had been overwhelming, to say the least, and the encounter in the bathroom earlier hadn't helped.

As she flicked the lighter, she glanced up and immediately groaned in annoyance. Standing a mere metre away, leaning against the wall, was the same man from earlier—the one who had barged in on her. A cigarette hung from his lips, smoke curling lazily into the air.

Of course. Of all places.

Alfie's eyes narrowed as she exhaled a cloud of smoke, her irritation palpable. She was still raw from their previous encounter, and the last thing she needed was to bump into him again, "Seriously?" she muttered, more to herself than to him, but loud enough for him to hear.

He glanced over at her, his expression as unreadable as before, "What?" he asked simply, his voice still that same calm, gruff tone.

Alfie took a long drag of her cigarette, not bothering to hide the irritation in her tone, "You're just always around when I'm are trying to be alone?"

He didn't rise to her bait. Instead, he shrugged, "Didn't know it was your corner of the world," he said, blowing out a cloud of smoke and looking back out at the street. "Besides, I was here first."

Alfie rolled her eyes, scoffing, "What are you, like, five?" 

Silence hung between them for a moment, filled only by the muffled sound of fists hitting flesh. Alfie kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, her defences still high, unsure of what to make of him. She didn't know why he rubbed her the wrong way, but he did.

She finally spoke again, her voice clipped, "You always just walk in on people like that? Or is it just me who gets that honour?" 

He looked at her, finally showing a hint of amusement, though it barely reached his eyes, "Didn't know you were in there. The door was unlocked." 

Alfie scowled, "Yeah, well, maybe you should try knocking next time."

He took another drag of his cigarette, unfazed by her hostility, "Noted."

Another beat of silence passed, and Alfie found herself oddly irritated by his calmness. Most people would've been flustered or apologetic, but this guy? He just didn't seem to care. 

She hesitated before speaking again, her tone still defensive, "So, what's your deal, anyway?"

He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised, "My deal?"

"Yeah," Alfie continued, crossing her arms. "What's your name? Or are you just gonna keep standing there like a mute or actually say something about who the hell you are?"

He looked at her for a moment, then flicked the ash from his cigarette, "Happy," he said simply.

"Happy?" Alfie repeated, disbelief clear in her voice. "You're joking, right?"

He shook his head, dead serious, "Nope."

Alfie snorted, "Right. A guy like you with a name like that. Makes perfect sense."

Happy shrugged again, seemingly unbothered by her sarcasm, "What's your name, then?"

She hesitated for a moment, not sure if she wanted to offer him even that small piece of information. But it felt childish to refuse, "Alfreda," she finally muttered. "But everyone calls me Alfie." 

"It's nice to meet you, Bella," Happy nodded, his face remained in that normal stoic expression of his, but Alfie could of swore she saw the slightest glint of mischief in his eyes. 

"It's Alfie," she corrected, her eyebrow twitching in annoyance. 

"Right, right, Bella. Got it," he chuckled lightly—just barely.

Alfie clenched her jaw tightly. This guy was getting on her last nerve, "Look, Happy, if you're trying to get under my skin, it's working!" 

The faintest smirk tugged at a single corner of his lips, which went unnoticed by the fuming Telford, "Just testing your patience, Alfie."

Alfie rolled her eyes, flicking the butt of her cigarette to the ground and grinding it out with her boot, "Well, if this charming conversation's over, I'm going back to the party."

"Suit yourself," Happy replied, not taking his eyes off the night sky as he took another drag of his own cigarette. 

Alfie shot him one last look, still irritated and thrown off by how calm he always seemed to be, before turning on her heel and heading back toward the door. As she reached for the handle, she paused, glancing over her shoulder, "Happy, huh?" she said, her tone a little softer but still guarded. "Weird name for someone who looks like they've never smiled in their life."

Turning around, Happy gave her the slightest smirk, "Maybe you just haven't given me a reason to yet."

Alfie blinked, surprised by the response, then quickly the scowl returned to her face, "Yeah, well, don't hold your breath."

And with that, she disappeared into the night, leaving Happy alone with his smoke and the night air, the faint hint of amusement still lingering in his eyes.

***

A/N: 

20/09/2024

I hope I wrote Happy correctly. I am currently rewatching SOA, and only nearing the end of season three now, and never actually finished the whole series before, so I haven't seen much of his character and his personality, so let me know if I am writing him the right way. 

Hope you enjoyed this chapter and feel free to leave a comment, it would make my day 😄

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AESTHETIC

Words: 9310