Bobby and JT sat on the couch in Bobby’s house as the children ran around without a care in the world. Bobby envied them at this moment. It had been too good of a year for the members of SAMCRO and it was bound to come to an end. Jax and opie were running after each other, Angel was lying on her stomach teaching little Thomas’s how to color with crayons. Bobby moved from the couch and sat on the floor next to the kids, pulling Angel into his lap and hugging her tightly. “Daddy? What’s wrong?” Angel turned in his lap and held his face between her little hands.Bobby took in a shuddering breath, gripping his daughter harder.
JT called the boys over, having them sit near Bobby and Angel. “Guys, we have some news to tell you and it’s not good,” JT took a pause and pulled Thomas onto his own lap. Opie and Jax sat between Bobby and JT, unsure of what was going on. They had saw and heard Gemma on the phone earlier and saw her running out in tears. “Daddy, is Mommy ok?” Jax spoke quietly. Jt smiled at his boy and nodded, “Yea, this isn’t about Mommy. It’s about Tig and Auntie Gen. They were in an accident today.”
Angel looked between her dad and JT. She loved her Aunt Gen as much as she loved Gemma and Luanne. The three women were more of mothers to her than her actual mother. Being the only girl meant the three women often pampered her and took her along to their girl’s day out. “Are they ok Daddy?” Angel stared into her father’s watering eyes. Bobby wiped his face and shook his head. “No Angel, they were both hurt. Uncle Tig is ok though.”
Opie scrunched his face up, like Angel, Opie loved his Aunt Gen. She took care of him when his mom and dad fought, which was happening more often. She had made sure that when Mary and Piney were fighting and throwing things at each other, that Opie was away for the night; she let him stay up later to watch cartoons with her and eat ice cream past bedtime. “W-what about Aunt Genie?” Opie finally spoke up, but dared not to look at either of the men. His gut told him that something else had happened and he was not sure he really wanted to hear what happened.
JT and Bobby exchanged glances, neither was sure how to tell them about this. It was Bobby who finally spoke up. “Aunt Gen didn’t make it. She was hurt really bad. And, apparently, she was pregnant. They saved the baby but,” Bobby looked at the three children staring at him with mouths open and tears ready to burst, “I’m so sorry guys. They couldn’t save Aunt Gen, she’s gone.”
It wasn’t until much later that night, after JT and Bobby had let the children cry their tears and ask all their questions that Gemma had finally called to give an update on Tig and his new daughter. Bobby sat on the couch, Angel lying on his chest and gripping his shirt, just like when she was a baby. Bobby refused to loosen his grip on her. He let his mind wander and his thoughts went to how he would have been if he’d been in Tig’s place. Opie and Jax had passed out on the floor and Thomas had fallen asleep on JT. Bobby glanced at all the kids and sighed. They were outlaw bikers. How would they manage having all these children around while they were out running guns and having targets on their backs? Yes, Gemma would watch over them gladly but she was only just one woman. Luanne would step in and help with the children too but her and Otto were still in the honeymoon phase and spent every moment they could alone. Bobby couldn’t blame either of them. If he had the choice, he’d be spending all his free time in bed with a beautiful woman too. Instead he found himself waiting around to see when Gemma would be home to take the boys home.
Angel stirred in her sleep, gripping at Bobby’s shirt tighter. It unnerved Bobby to see that the longer he went between seeing his daughter, the more she stirred and cried in her sleep. He rubbed small circles along her back and singly softly to her “I wonder if you’re lonesome tonight, You know someone said that the world’s a stage, And each must play a part.” Angel let out a soft sigh and finally loosened her grip on Bobby’s shirt. “I got you baby girl,” he whispered softly against her hair. JT looked over to see Bobby rocking and singing to Angel. His boys were all happily passed out and he knew that they would remain passed out long after he and Gemma got them home.
The three had been pulled from school for a week to deal with the loss of Gen. Susan gladly let Bobby keep Angel for the entire week, almost pushing them both of George’s house. Bobby sat in the recliner, attempting to brush Angel’s hair into something manageable. “Damn little girl, doesn’t anyone brush your hair at home?” Angel just shrugged and looked to the floor, “I try to myself but it hurts Daddy.”
Bobby sighed and shook his head, the earlier conversation with Susan about Angel’s hair nagging at the back of his mind. “It’s ok baby. We’re just going to put it in a ponytail and hope for the best. We don’t want to be late. Now go get your shoes on, Uncle Clay was nice enough to shine them up for you. And don’t forget your jacket!” Angel got up and ran to finish getting ready. Bobby ran his hands down his face. It was the day to bury Geneviere and he wasn’t sure how Angel was going to react. She had been quiet the last few days and anyone anyone asked how she was doing, she’d shrug and walk away. Bobby made a mental note to talk to the club about pulling back on his duties for a while. He loved the club and it was his life but Angel was more important and he missed his happy little girl.
As they stood around the lowering coffin, Angel stared down the dark hole. She wasn’t sure how to feel. Her aunt was gone and she had never said goodbye. All the adults around her were trying their best to keep their composure. Some men sniffled, others let the tears flow, and there were those who refused to show any emotion. Angel saw her Uncle Tig sitting on the other side of the grave, staring blankly at the ground. Letting go of her father’s hand, Angel made her way over to him. She wasn’t used to seeing the empty look in his eyes. Leaning her head on his arm, Angel started to softly sing one of the only songs she knew by heart, “Someday I’ll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me, Where troubles melt like lemon drops, away above the chimney tops…”