News traveled really fast in Charming, and she wondered if there was any use left for the post office and its services in the town.

The room they had put her father in, hooked up to machines, was crowded with flowers. She had had to ask for the next ones to be put elsewhere or given to anybody who cared to have them. She knew why people were sending flowers, and it had nothing to do with the Old Knowles, as they called him, though he was lying there. It was about her, and the fact that she had spent the night at the compound, not in Donna's bedroom. People were sending flowers as they thought they were paying their respects to an Old Lady's father.

The bouquets were from known associates of the Sons, and it made her sick. Her father was dying, but the rumor on everyone's lips appeared to be that she had screwed Jaw the night before last. People thought she was staying, and they wanted to make sure they did everything diplomacy required to stay on the Sons' good side.

When Opie had been sentenced to jail, Donna had received lots of food from people vaguely related to the club. She had told Tara so when she had come to visit her and her father, and had spotted the various floral arrangements everywhere.

"This town is bipolar," Donna had said. "On the one hand, they hate the fact that they are living in a town where the Sons are the main authority, and that they have to deal with them, yet on the other hand, every time something happen Son-related, they will send out gifts and food and what's not, seizing it as an opportunity to remind the Sons that they are here, and they love them, even when they don't love them. Either make it known that you will not take any more of the Sons bullshit, or embrace them, but don't do both. I should know, I'm bipolar too when it comes to the Sons," the woman had finished, looking sad and painfully aware of her own contradictions.

"All these flowers for a fuck… I'd hate to see what they would send if there were something else, like an engagement, or a baby."

"They'd send even more flowers, and congratulation cards and more, dreading to be invited to the wedding, yet terrified they wouldn't get a Bristol either, meaning the Sons could be mad at them…"

"Fuck this town," Tara had said, honestly fed up with it all.

"Amen," Donna has answered.

That had happened hours ago. Tara looked at her watch, and wondered what she should do: the chair she was in wasn't so comfortable, and she was tired from the surgery. Wow, that seemed like it had taken place a decade ago, she thought…

She looked at her father, at his hands on the sheet, at his face. He was showing nothing, as always. Even when drunk, he was stoic. Scary and uncontrollable when he blew a fuse, but stoic otherwise.

She wasn't sure what she was doing here, yet at the same time, she couldn't picture herself anywhere else. Philips had told her that he would take care of the post op care for the kid, and she was thankful for this. It was, let's be honest, the work they usually reserved for an intern, but given the status of their patient, one of them needed to stay on top of this and she was in no shape to do so.

She thought back about what the doctor had said, about her father having been discovered at his house by the cleaning lady, already in a coma, and how after running some test, they had discovered that he had liver cancer. He apparently knew about it too, as at one point Tara had met the guy who had been his oncologist. She had blacked out when it came to what they had said, pleasantries or medical discussions. Her father was dying, had been dying for a while, and had kept mum about it. She had been in town for almost a week, and sure, she hadn't come to visit, but truth be told, she had been waiting for him to let her know she was still welcome to his house. It was not his home, which had been her mother for him. It was not hers either, for she belonged nowhere. However, when she had left to go to college, she hadn't only left Jax behind. She also taken her father by surprise, so certain he wouldn't give two shits about where she was going. He had been shocked when she had told him she had arranged for a bank loan to pursue her studies without him, and had packed her tuff and left. She never knew, and still didn't really if he had forgiven her for getting up and leaving. Hell, it hadn't even been so spontaneous… For months, she had made things happen, she had known what she would have to do… She had gotten her loan, making sure to get it in San Francisco so that nobody in Charming would know about it. She had gotten in touch with her mother's brother and had arranged for him to give her shelter. She had planned her exit.

Looking back, she understood why she had kept it from Jax, and how it had been at fault in their relationship becoming tense, but she wondered why she had kept her father in the dark. He was no jail guard.

She supposed this would be a conversation for another time. She got her belongings, and after threatening the intern who was in charge of watching over her father should anything happen, she went back to the motel.

She found a note, slipped under the door of her room, in Jax's writing, saying they really needed to talk, and she knew he must have known about her father when he had left it. He wasn't that callous.

She got in, closed the door, and went to bed.

A few hours later, she came to, her back feeling weird, shivers running up and down. She was about to call the intern and check on her father when she caught the shadow of someone waiting in front of her door.

She got up, and opened as the person knocked, taking them by surprise.

"Tara…" Jax started.

She looked at him, wondering why he had decide to pop by at … 3AM if her watch wasn't dead.

He looked so terrified of her reaction, she realized she had been scowling.

She grabbed him by the jacket and said, pulling him in the room:

"If there's a fucking crow eater waiting on your bike, I hope you left her a sweater or something. Night is cold outside."

"There's no…"

"Okay," was all she said, not letting him finish. She got back in bed, and waited for him to slip in behind her. His arms went around her waist, and she grabbed one of his hands, holding it in hers against her chest.

"Thanks for coming," She told him. "You didn't have too."

He kissed her neck but didn't try for anything less chaste than that.

"Of course I had to. I wanted to," He said.

It made her feel uneasy. They were supposed to have had that one night, when it was just about the two of them and fuck the world. Yet, she found herself relying on him, and it would hurt even more when she would leave. She wondered if he thought something had made her change her made as far as that was concerned.

"You wanted to talk," She said.

"I guess so. I think I just didn't want you to leave without having the chance to say goodbye," He said.

She turned to catch a glimpse of his face, and he was smiling, though resigned, and sad.

"I know you're leaving. I'm good in bed but your will is too strong for us making love to change your mind. You left me once when it must have been the most difficult thing you had ever done, when you were just a babe, my babe… The Tara from today would leave again, being less scared."

"This Tara is leaving indeed, or should have been… I'm waiting…"

"For your pop to give up," he said. "And then you're gone."

"I am."

He held her closer, and said, his nose in her neck:

"I know it's selfish and just jerk like of me, but I'm glad you're staying, even if it's one more day. Just don't leave without saying goodbye."

She felt tears in her eyes, and refused to shed them, so she closed her eyes, nodded, then let the warm embrace she was in lull her to sleep.

When she woke up again, a couple of hours later, he was watching her, not having gotten any sleep. He didn't even pretend to look away, just kept his loving gaze on her.

She would be leaving so soon….

Against her better judgment, she said:

"I don't have time for guys who fuck around. I don't have time, for guys who think that they're bike buddies and their mommies are more important than the family we may be having. I love you Jax, but I can't stay, and I can't ask you to come with me."

"Why not?" He asked.

She sat down in bed, rubbing her eyes, avoiding his eyes.

"Do you remember my paranoia when we were together? When you entered the club. I can't go through that anymore. I need a man in my life... No, scratch that, I don't need a man in my life. However, if I chose to share my life with a guy, I would want him to be faithful. Why do you think I insisted on condoms when we last screwed? I don't know where you've been, and I hate that. I know you didn't wait for me. I didn't wait for you either. However, I do not know if I could believe you'd be satisfy with me, and only me. If I asked you to come, you would need to know what it would mean to be with me. I work insane hours, and I don't have time to worry about who my man is screwing. I need stability, and not some hazardous variable. If you agreed to come with me, you would be agreeing to leave behind the club, and the lifestyle. You would have to agree to have one girl only in your bed, and that girl would be me. It sounds so daunting… But it's the truth… If I want to become who I have the potential to become, I don't have time for taking chances on men who are boys when it comes to girl. I'd rather be alone than waste my time my time and drive myself crazy with a guy I couldn't trust. I would need someone who would understand how important my job is to me, how much I sacrificed for it. I would need someone who would stand by my side, through hell and heaven, and just… be there."

"You need a husband, or nobody", he said, looking even.

"I guess so. Fuck, this is not the conversation I wanted to have at 6AM today…"

She got up, and started getting ready for the day. She heard him move too, and he was ready to leave when she was.

"Tara," He said again, before he kissed her goodbye, "I heard what you said, about what you need. I don't know if I can promise any of it though, but I heard it."

"Then you know why I can't ask you to be with me."

He didn't answer, only gently kissed her, lovingly, sweetly, patiently, and it made her want to weep that he couldn't commit to what she needed.

They broke apart and they stayed in each other's arms just a bit longer.

Then they parted ways, and she got back to her car, to go stand vigil by her father.

She remained by her father's bed for five days. The Mayan didn't send them flowers, but instead arranged things so that her father would be moved to a bigger room, one where she could stay, day and night. She had cried when Philips had told her about that gesture, and cried too when he had said goodbye.

"I'll see you soon in Chicago," he told her.

Which made her weep more. She didn't want to be free of Charming, as it would mean her father had passed. It would mean she had left again. She knew she would have to do it, but she just didn't have the strength… And Chicago was worlds away…

It was the exhaustion talking, ore more accurately, weeping, of course. She let him go, and went back to her chair.

Five days. Five excruciating days. The doctor would pop by at regular interval, and the nurses had arranged for her to have a bed on the side. She was kept up all night by the regular sound of her father's monitors, hating the noise but dreading its interruption, feeling torn apart.

She had made one last trip to the motel and had checked out. It had seemed like the most sensible thing to do. She was spending all her time with her father anyway, alone.

On the third day, she had been dozing off by her father's bedside when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in."

It had been Gemma. Tara had prepared herself for a fight.

The Old Lady walked to the end of her father's bed, and said:

"You got rid of all the flowers?"

Tara wondered how Gemma had known about that…

"I went by, on morning, you weren't there, and there were flowers everywhere, from people my husband and my son work with," Gemma said, not looking at her.

"Fucking nosy Charming," Tara had said. "When they changed his room, I asked for them to discard the flowers. We didn't need them. Just because people heard something didn't mean they had the right to intrude on my father's privacy."

Gemma nodded, and came to give her father a kiss on the forehead, and squeeze his hand.

"I know what it's like, what you're going through." Gemma finally said.

"JT…" Tara had said, and Gemma had nodded.

He had needed three days to be ready to let go of life. Her father was still hanging on, but she didn't know if he would for long, or how much she could take.

"Jax told me you're leaving Charming after …." Gemma said.

Tara had sighed.

"For fuck's sake, Gemma, get the hell out of here. I knew you couldn't have come just to pay your respect to my father. You had to be searching for something. Do you want me to tell you your son was right? He was right. I'm leaving Charming. You will get what you want. Just let me be with my father without tainting my last moments with him."

The Old Lady seemed ready to pick up a fight, but Tara must have looked on her last nerve, for Gemma nodded, and said:

"Fair enough. I can wait another couple of days."

And then she was gone, and Tara found herself weeping some more. Fucking Gemma. Even in her time of need, she couldn't find it in her body to be decent, and just normal? Her father… Her poor father…

She fell asleep, exhausted from the tears. She had never cried so much in her adult life, and she didn't know how to stop it. She hated it.

In the middle of the fifth night, she was woken up by a voice.

It took her a couple of seconds then she realized it was her father asking for something to drink.

The emotions she felt… There were too many and she just wasn't able to process them all. She ran in the corridor and got him some icy water.

She came back, and helped him drink some. She couldn't believe his eyes were open. She couldn't believe he was seeing her. She wondered if she was dreaming.

"I'm not going to lie to you, kid," he said when he was finished drinking and she helped him lie back in bed, "this is the end."

"I know." She said simply.

"I hate that I woke up, it means that I will feel it, when I'm toast…"

"You can slip back into a coma…." She said. "Sometimes people wake up for a couple of hours, and then they go back to being comatose…."

"Something to look forward then…" He said.

She didn't know what to say, and those goddamn tears were coming back again…

"I'm sorry I was such a crap dad."

"You weren't," she said.

"Don't lie to your dying father," he said, with a slight smile on his lips. "I was shite."

"You were shite," she agreed.

"But you're note. You're big. I know it, your uncle told me all about your career."

"I wanted to call you so badly, and tell you where I was at but…"

"You were worried I would be starting my second bottle of vodka and wouldn't give a shit…"

"No. Yes, but no, not only. I wasn't sure you would want to hear from me."

"You're my kid. Of course I would want to know. But I was such crap dad, I didn't manage to let you know," He said, breathing heavily.

"I was worried you hated me for leaving."

"You never made me so proud than the day you did. You were so much like your mother… I love you kid…"

Tara started crying, knowing he wouldn't be saying those words if the end wasn't so near.

"Just do me a favor, baby girl, and don't come back. After I'm gone, after I'm finally reunited with your mother, just stay away from Charming."

She had never known her father believed in the afterlife, and it was like balm on her soul. She didn't believe in it, but if as he lay dying, he was able to find comfort in the thought that he was getting closer to seeing his wife again, then it meant the world. She didn't want him to be scared. She didn't want him to worry. She didn't even care about the fact that he had kept his cancer a secret, come to think of it. She just wanted him happy, something he had never been once they had put her mother in the ground.

'Will you tell her I miss her every day?" She asked, surprised by the words she was saying.

"I will. But promise me, Tara…"

It felt like she was being torn apart, like she was breaking inside, hearing her father say her name for the first time in …. Too long.

"I promise. I was going to leave anyway. I've got nothing left for me here…"

"That kid, that Son I should say…"

"Knows where I'm at. Wait…" She asked, remembering the message she had gotten at the motel and which hadn't made sense. "You tried to reach me?"

He chuckled sadly.

"My last attempt at being a father. I heard about you and the boy, from one of my boozing buddies. I wanted to … I dunno. Tell you that this life here, in Charming, is poisonous maybe… I just felt like I needed to make sure you would not stay. You deserve more. You always did."

"Thank you daddy," she said, barely recognizing the word, for she hadn't spoken it in a long time.

They held hands, for a long time, until she felt him leave his corporal shell. It broke her heart, but she didn't let go, he wasn't in any pain, and for once he wasn't alone, even though he was leaving her so.

When his heart stop beating, the medical staff came barging in, but she reminded them of her father's DNR, still holding his hand, unwilling to let go.

It was too hard, it just was too hard.

She cried with her head on their linked hands, and the medical staff left the room, as she heaved and wept for her father.

Hours later, she felt someone touch her shoulder, and heard Jax's voice in her ear, saying that he had her, and just this once, she allowed herself to believe him. With a last kiss on her father's cold forehead, she finally let go of his hand, and of this life.

The burial was a simple affair. It took place two days after her father had been reunited with her mother, or so she hoped.

Jax had stayed by her side. They had taken a room in another hotel, as she didn't want to stay in her father's house, and he didn't want to bring her back to the compound. He was there when she had to take care of the details, all these painful details. He went back with her to that house, to find the clothes her father would be buried in.

She allowed herself one visit to what had been her bedroom, and would have cried upon seeing that he hadn't touched it even after she left, had she still be able to cry.

She felt dry and had no more tears to cry, though her heart was so heavy.

Donna had called, offering to come to the funeral, but Tara had told her to stay with her kids.

The priest made a eulogy, and her father was lowered into the ground. Jax's hands was in hers, at all time, and she was reminded of a similar situation, except it had been his father and they had been much younger.

There were a couple of people in attendance, including Piney, who had brought flowers in his and Donna's names. She had thanked him.

He was there, his hand in hers, her rock when she needed one. She didn't dare hope, yet, as she remembered her flight back to Chicago was leaving in four hours, she thought she owed it to them, and asked him:

"Will you leave Charming and be with me?"

And he answered.

THE END

A/N: and this is the end. Please don't ask me for a sequel, and I'll tell you why. I had this idea for the ending, but too many people asked for a happy ending. I didn't feel like I could give it to them, so instead, I gave you all an open ending. You can imagine he said yes, you can imagine he said no. It's not about me, it's about you all and what you wish would happen. I can't write a sequel to this piece or an epilogue or anything, as it would mean chosing one of these answers and rolling with it. I want you guys to be completely free. hat I picture may not be what you picture yet we're all okay with what we chose.

I hope this made sense. I would love some feedback if you had some to give, concrit of course, and I hope that this is a story you enjoyed reading, from start to finish. Thank you for your support!