The Right Direction: Part 1

"Every time I think maybe I'm headin' in the right direction, I end up in a place I never knew could feel this bad."

Reeling from his wife's death, Jax is plunged into a catatonic state where he's bombarded with beautiful and painful memories of his life with Tara. When he recovers, which direction will he take? Will he be the crazed monster intent on violently avenging his wife's brutal murder? Or will he finally keep his promise - honor what Tara died trying to do - and save their boys from the violent MC life that could be their fate. Or both…

Sons of Anarchy belongs to Kurt Sutter. I own nothing (except an OC that will be introduced later).

AN:

I still have a ton of anger over Season 6. Yes, because Tara died; she was my favorite SOA character by FAR. But also because of the ridiculous OOC storyline that Sutter gave her. Yes, I would think that getting the boys out of Charming, away from Gemma and the MC life would be her first priority in the face of a lengthy prison term. But a fake miscarriage plot is right out of bad 1970's soap operas. Was Sutter's writing team watching 40-year-old re-runs of "General Hospital" or "As the World Turns" when they came up with that ridiculous story arc? It was stupid and lazy and generated all sorts of ridiculous Tara-hate. All we needed was an evil twin and a bout of amnesia to make the freak season complete. So I'm writing this so I can honor my all-time favorite TV character (next to Jack Bauer) and make sure Jax remembers how good he had it with her.

Acknowledgements: I love some of the fanfiction I've read here. Particularly "Final Embrace" by VD Star, "Shut Down the City Lights" by Monroeslittle and "There's Us" by Xiomy318 (please finish!). I totally agree with some of the details and plot points in those stories (e.g., Jax's wish to have his ashes mingled with Tara's and buried together from "Final Embrace" was beautiful) so I've alluded to some of those in this story.

I titled this Part 1 because it's mainly flashbacks. Since I will not watch Season 7, Part 2 will be how I would like to envision the end unfolding. But I still have a ways to go in plot construction before it's ready.

PROLOGUE

There's so much blood; the cloying, coppery odor so overwhelming that the sheriff's deputy finds it hard to breathe. He's no rookie; he's worked bloody crime scenes before. But this… this is horror beyond anything he's ever seen.

They had found his boss, Sheriff Eli Roosevelt, dead and sprawled across the kitchen floor – a gaping bullet hole ripped into his back. The deputy closes his eyes in regret; Eli was a good man, a good cop. He certainly didn't deserve this. Hell the Roosevelt family didn't deserve this; another tragedy so soon after Rita had been so cruelly taken from them. The coroner takes his body away first, leaving a dark pool of coagulated blood smeared on the white tile.

The body of the other victim, Dr. Tara Knowles, is still in the room. After loading Roosevelt's body into the first van, the coroner returns and indicates that he's ready to take her away, too. But her husband – who had been there when they found the bodies – is still cradling her body, clasping her to him, refusing to let go. His head is bent, pressed against her neck, while he sobs uncontrollably. It's a jarring sight for the deputy who only knows Jackson Teller to be as cold and hard as the reaper gracing the back of his leather cut.

Patterson, the DA, sees the deputies and the coroner moving in, ready to seize the body – by force if necessary - from the distraught husband and signals for them to stand down. Teller is a violent and dangerous man, but none of them have ever seen the steely-eyed biker king like this before – crying, wailing, completely destroyed. There's just no telling what he might do if confronted now.

"Jackson," Patterson is standing above Teller, she speaks softly "The coroner is here. You need to let him take her now."

The deputy puts his hand on his gun; he's seen the fallout of Teller's violent behavior before. He knows it would not be beyond the SAMCRO President to pull out a gun and start shooting in order to keep what he believes belongs to him. And without a doubt, Tara Knowles has always belonged to him.

Teller clutches his wife's body even tighter, "Get out" he snarls, not even looking up – his red, wet face buried against his wife's cheek.

"I'm sorry, Jax" Patterson tries to reason with him, "but we need to take her, or we'll never know what happened to her, never be able to catch the person who did this to her."

This seems to get Teller's attention; he finally raises his head. In an instant his expression transforms from soul crushing grief to murderous rage. The deputy pulls out his gun as Patterson steps back. The monster has returned.

"You want to know what happened?" Teller screams at them, his eyes wild with fury and grief, "Someone fucking murdered my wife on your watch! She was supposed to be safe, and you and your goddamn sheriff let her get murdered in our home! You think I want you fucking people anywhere near her again? Get out! GET OUT!"

Roosevelt was murdered, too, the deputy silently defends his late boss. Eli most likely died trying to protect Dr. Knowles. But there's no reasoning with Teller in his current state. They're going to have to take her by force.

Sighing with regret, Patterson signals the deputies to advance. It takes all three of them to pry Teller's tight grip from his wife's body and wrestle him away so the coroner can lift her body on to the stretcher and wheel her outside to the waiting van. Teller lets out a blood-curling roar when they finally separate him from Tara's body and begins fighting the deputies holding him down. He screams her name again and again as he scrambles to break the deputies' hold. Jackson Teller is a strong man – even more so in his crazed anguish. He manages to escape the hold by breaking one deputy's nose with a vicious punch and disabling another with forceful kicks to the shins and groin. He races outside, still screaming her name, desperate to stay with her – as if staying with her body would somehow bring her back to life, back to him.

As the coroner is loading Tara's body into the van, Teller lunges, intent on stopping the man from taking Tara away from him. But a blinding pain forces him to his knees. "Tara!" he screams as he watches the coroner's van drive off with his love, his beautiful girl. "Tara!" He stumbles forward, trying to give chase when the pain hits him again and again until he sinks into oblivion.

Patterson stares at the deputy holding the Taser and then down at the unconscious, prone body of Jackson Teller.
"Take him in," she orders, "book him for assault of a law enforcement officer for now. We'll know soon enough if we need to upgrade that to double homicide."

He wakes slowly. His eyes feel heavy, swollen shut. His body aches like he's been beaten – every muscle, every nerve screaming from even the smallest of movements. He listens for noises, any familiar sounds that can provide a clue to where he is. But it's too quiet, and that scares him. He wants to hear Tara's even breathing as she sleeps nestled against him and the night-time gurgling noises from the baby monitors perched on the night stand.

It's a near herculean effort, but he's finally able to pry his eyes open. Peering under swollen lids, he can see a dim light. With even more effort, he turns his head and the irons bars gradually come into focus. He realizes that he's in county jail. He's spent enough time in these cells to know the distinct smell; knows how cold and dark it can be for those forced to stay as overnight guests. But the smell of blood – one he knows all too well – is there, too. He smells it on his hands, on his arms, in his hair. And then the memory hits him with force of the heaviest and cruelest of hammers. It's Tara's blood. The kitchen had been drenched with it; he had felt it matted in her hair, felt it seep through his clothes when he held her. And he remembers that his beautiful wife is gone forever. Hot tears sting and run down his face before he can slam his eyes shut. But he can't stem the flow any more than he can stop the sharp, crushing pain from ravaging through him, forcing more sobs to wrack his body. And then worse than the tears, worse than the physical pain comes an assault of memories of his life with Tara.

Memories from childhood when she was a smart, smart-ass little girl next door; never hesitating to tell him and Opie that their pranks were stupid, laughing in their faces when those pranks backfired – but always, always standing by them, defending them and denying accusations from parents, teachers and any other authority figures seeking to mete out punishment.

Memories of high school when he realized that his childhood friend had transformed into the most beautiful girl in the world. He had fallen so hard for her, and she with him that they couldn't bear to be apart, couldn't fathom life without the other. His world had revolved around the moments he could be with her, and when he wasn't with her, she consumed his thoughts. She had owned him so completely that during their 11-year separation, he had lived in limbo; fucking nameless, faceless women who were just surrogates for the only girl he would ever love. His short and regrettable marriage had done nothing more than underscore the sad fact he would always be emotionally unavailable to any woman but Tara.

Memories of her return to Charming as a gifted surgeon; still so smart and so incredibly beautiful, but with a new and irresistible layer of maturity and self-possession. He hadn't thought it possible, but his consuming love and need for her increased ten-fold in the years that she re-entered his life, became the mother of his children and his wife.

Ever since he was a sixteen-year-old kid, all he ever wanted was to take his father's place as head of the MC and have Tara by his side forever. And for a short, brutally short, time his dream had been reality. But now it's gone; Tara is gone and there would be no more dreams for his future. He closes his eyes and allows sleep take him. No more future, just the past…