The choices one makes in a motorcycle club shape the outcome of all members. The Redwood Originals were familiar with this concept the moment they earned their top rocker. Marla, Tara and Ashlynn could trace their roots back to one night, and to one fleeting decision. Looking back they realized this choice came, for all of them, on the same night. In the world of ride or die, brains before bullets….the women of SAMCRO altered the destiny of this MC on an ordinary Saturday night.

(Saturday, April 23, 2003)

Marla Winston walked into the club house with a purpose. After parking her prized mustang out front, it took about 10 seconds to head straight for the bar. It was a typical Saturday night, so of course the clubhouse was in full tilt. The party looked to be a typical party after a run. Marla was no stranger to the behaviors and actions of SAMCRO. It broke her mother's heart when she chose to go running back to the club, but it was her sanctuary. This clubhouse was her childhood home, and the men in it all had a hand at raising her. Piney might not have been the father she needed, but he was the one she got. He taught her how to protect herself, a skill she was lacking these days.

Marla made it to the bar with minimal resistance. The men all seemed deep in some sort of pussy. It didn't surprise her to see Jax with two particularly loose sweet butts. It would seem that Wendy was long gone, but Jax had a tendency to crawl back to that junkie. The damage from Tara was irrecusably after she up and left for med school and never returned. Marla understood her reasons, but it didn't change the love between the two of them. Tara was her best friend and when she left SAMCRO she left Marla as well.

The new prospect was tending the bar… sort of. He sat at the end of the bar with a few hang arounds and crow eaters. They were all taking shots and sharing some laughs. It pissed Marla off, to be honest, seeing them so happy and care free. She reached behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels. Tonight was about blacking out. Marla took a generous swig from the bottle and then another.

She took the bottle into a secluded corner of the clubhouse. Being social tonight was really not on her radar. She was nursing a black eye that desperately did not need attention. Marla knew she would have to deal with it eventually, but for now she wanted to forget. Luckily, Opie seemed oblivious to the world around him. He would lose his mind tomorrow, but she was safe tonight.

Marla gently grazed her finger over the tender swollen skin. It wasn't her first shiner nor would it be her last. With that thought she took a long swig from the bottle. It wasn't until she was about halfway through that she realized she was drunk. Drinking wasn't exactly her thing. That was more what Jax and Opie did for fun. She preferred the herbal therapies herself. Her thoughts were interrupted by the new prospect and his obnoxious crow eater. They were invading her private corner of the clubhouse. It was very obvious what they wanted the privacy for.

This particular croweater was a very busty blonde. Marla scoffed at the clichéd nature of this whore. She was overly tanned, overly sexed, and her hair was an unsightly white blonde that only comes from a bottle. Her giggle was annoying to say the very least, and she was trying way too hard to be sexy. She shoved the prospect into the wall and started kissing his neck.

The Prospect was pretty good looking. Marla would be an idiot to deny his boyish good looks, but he had a cockiness to him that got under Marla's skin. Those idiotic tattoos on his head caused her eyes to roll more than once. He was an itch all over Marla, and she was afraid she would need to scratch. She took another generous pull from the bottle and watched the couple.

The croweater moved south toward his buckle and in a flash she was down on her knees. That wasn't surprising. Marla was as use to seeing sex as anyone in SAMCRO. The couple didn't seem to notice Marla's presences, and she was not about to announce herself now. She was mildly interested to see how this would play itself out as she took another pull from her bottle. The Croweater made quick work of his pants and immediately set out to suck the prospect off. Her overly dramatic moans were echoing throughout the small space, and Marla couldn't resist rolling her eyes. These women were so desperate to become an Old Lady, but they had no fucking concept that being a part of this club was a death sentence.

Marla had no choice, she was born into the club. SAMCRO ran through her veins and a part of her will always want to run free. There is a yearning to do more, be more, revolt more. The anarchism isn't just laws and structure, but rebellion of ideals and expectations of life. Being born female does not exclude you from these feelings. This might be a man's world, but the anarchy does not just apply to them. That was something Gemma never understood because she wasn't born SAMCRO, she inherited it. The only other woman who understood this feeling was Ashlynn Teller, princess of SAMCRO and daughter of the founding member. Ashlynn was christened in as an outlaw the second she exited Gemma Teller's womb. She was four minutes younger than her twin brother Jax, and the two of them have raised hell ever since.

Marla resented and sometimes rebelled against the shackles of the MC, but she always renewed her ties and strengthen her bond to her SAMCRO family. She was a diplomat, and she fought dirty but smart. Opie had been the same way growing up, and she learned her level headed nature from hero worshiping her brother. Opie was a year older than her, but he never treated her like it. Jackson had no problems chastising her or being generally overbearing. Ashlynn wouldn't take his big brother act seriously, so he went full force on Marla.

Ashlynn was laying down smoking a joint in one of the dorm rooms of SAMCRO. The party in the clubhouse was like white noise behind the closed door. With each drag the sounds all started to fade into a muted roar. Her body was sore all over from her work out earlier in the day. Ashlynn was no stranger to pain after growing up as the SAMCRO princess. About a year ago, a group of Mayans ran her off the road. It was retaliation for something Jax had done. The doctors told her she would never be able to surf again, but Tellers don't go down easy. Surfing was her livelihood. At the time of the accident she was some major sponsors and competed nationally. Ashlynn was determined to get back to where she was. The journey back from her car accident was a long one. She still was only to the stages of working out, which was why she found herself back in Charming.

SAMCRO was her whole life growing up. She was once a mini-Gemma when it came to her boys. No one gave her any bullshit and she was stubborn as hell. Jackson was not the only Teller with a shit-eating grin and an arrogant cocky charm. Her long blonde hair fell down to her waist and her piercing blue eyes made her rather desirable. Ashlynn used it for her when she wanted, but like her brother, she a tendency to latch unhealthy onto one person. Her current emotional turmoil came from this particular problem.

"The fuck you doing in my bed little girl?" The gravelly voice broke her out of her current thought.

The Tacoma Killer was not one to be fucked with, but Ashlynn was well past that. Her brother, her uncles, her mother; everyone warned her about this man. The problem was she was drawn to him. Ashlynn actively sought out his company… his companionship. There was danger about him and Ashlynn had a thirst for this man. He brought out the animal inside her. He was just like her.

Ashlynn rolled her eyes and took another hit off the joint. She wasn't one to repeat herself, and this man knew exactly why she was here. The weed gave her a full body buzz that helped her relax around the men of SAMCRO….this man in particular.

"I'm not fucking dealing with this tonight Ash. You're not my Old Lady so you can—"

Ashlynn jerked up from the bed staring daggers into Happy across the room.

"If you fucking finish that statement—then I'm done."

Happy crossed over toward the bed and looked down at Ashlynn. He had his typical sneer planted on his face and his hand was twitching at his side. He had been itching to hit her for months, but loyalty to his club stopped him. Ashlynn knew that hitting her would probably cost him his patch, but she knew he was tempted anyways.

"I dream about slitting your throat and watching you bleed out. Then I wake up with a smile on my face."

He took off his shirt and shoes and threw them across the room before crawling into the bed next to her with a sigh. Ashlynn handed him the rest of her joint and put her head on his chest.

Happy took a hit then pushed her head off his chest. His eyes told her he wasn't in the mood for games.

"Well, tell me what the doctor said." He wasn't making eye contact with her, but she knew he wanted to know.

"Looks like I will have to have another shoulder surgery, but I maxed out my insurance already. I'm so sick of surgeries."

He closed his eyes and nodded his head. That was about as close to comfort as he could give.

"I got it, don't worry about that."

Ashlynn scoffed at that response. She knew he would try, but she wouldn't accept it. The next statement was one she was nervous about.

"I can have children though, so that is good." There was a long pause before Happy reacted.

"Not from me you won't. You can just remove that idea now."

Ashlynn rolled to her side, away from Happy. For some reason that comment really pissed her off. She wasn't looking to have kids now, but the desire was there. Her mother had instilled the idea of family into her since birth. A female Teller had one duty, and that was to continue the family line. Ashlynn knew what this life was, and she wasn't ignorant to what her duties were. She loved surfing and she loved traveling, but she knew in the darkest part of her heart that she would give it up to take her place when the time came. The sense of honor and duty and loyalty were things the coursed through Ashlynn's veins.

Being with Ashlynn sealed your place in the Sons of Anarchy. Your rank and worth would be infinitely higher because your children would carry on the Teller bloodline. Happy had always resented this fact, and in turn made it almost impossible to be with. Other men would do anything to be linked to SAMCRO royalty, but Happy saw it as a chore. He already had a name and place for himself. He had no desire to be with a Teller. Fuck Happy for brushing that…honor aside. Her anger ignited and she knew what to say to ignite his.

"Don't worry babe, Opie said he would give me a baby."

Ashlynn felt his foot on her back and a swift push off the bed. She went flying off the side of the bed and landed on her elbow.

"You fucking dick!" she screamed and nursed her injured arm.

Ashlynn knew mentioning Opie would piss him off something fierce. He had this obsessive thought that at any moment Opie was going to admit his love for her. In their youth, the two of them would find comfort in each other. They dated throughout high school and were consistently sleeping together. They did love each other, but it was a friendship. Their comfort with each other was something that confused most people. They didn't understand that two people can be that closely twined without romantic interest. Opie loved Danna more than life. She was the one who his heart belonged to.

"You're lucky I didn't throw you through the window." Happy stated simply.

"I'm going out there and getting Jax. Fuck you, Happy." Ashlynn got up and started to head toward the door.

"You leave that fucking door to get Jax, then you better send in Crystal because we will be over."

Ashlynn glared at him. She could feel the anger and the rage burning inside of her. Happy knew exactly what to say to push her into blind rages. Her breath started to come in pants, and her fists were clenching and unclenching. She could feel her face turning dark shades of red.

Happy had a smirk on his face that was only aiding in Ashlynn's rage. He got up and met her by the door.

"It's a good thing you got off that bed. I just fucked the blonde croweater on it before you got to the party."

And like that, Ashlynn snapped. She lunged at him and started swinging and slapping. Happy took a few hits before knocked her to the ground. She was pinned under his body while she spit, clawed, and cussed from under him. Ashlynn was a Teller after all, she had no problem fighting dirty.

Happy just egged her on with his comments.

"That's right baby, keep going." No Problem.

She took a knee to his gut and watched his eyes darken. Shit. Ashlynn knew that look, and what followed that look.

Happy pushed his hardening dick between her legs. Ashlynn let out a low moan as her brain switched gears.

"Yea baby, tell me what I should do."

Ashlynn looked into his eyes and saw the heat that was reflected in her's.

"Fuck me… but leave the door open. I want those crow eaters to hear who you belong to."

Happy kissed her deeply and then kissed her sore elbow.

"You got it, doll."

Marla wasn't sure if it was the Jack Daniels or if it was the scene in front of her, but she was getting very warm. She was usually numb to seeing any sort of sexual act. When she was a child she once saw her own father with a club croweater. If that wasn't scarring enough, she also once saw Ashlynn bent over the pool table by Opie. Sex was just part of being around a MC. The prospect was just getting some club head, and yet she couldn't stop staring. About halfway through the prospect seemed to notice her. His eyes locked onto hers and she waited for him to react. Instead, he held her gaze all the way to completion.

Marla had never watched a guy orgasm before. It was strangely erotic and yet intimate, and she wasn't sure what to do. She watched him pull up his pants and send the croweater packing, all without breaking the eye contact. Finally he nodded his head toward the front exit and started heading toward the door.

"Damn, Marla wants the Rican." Ashlynn made her presence known from behind Marla.

She wasn't sure how long she had been standing there or where she came from. Ashlynn grabbed the bottle from Marla and took a long pull.

"Shit. When my brother sees that eye, your boyfriend will be six feet under anyways. This is a perfect time to find a new shoulder to cry on."

Marla tried to tune Ashlynn out, but that was an impossible task. It was better to change the subject.

"How did Happy take the news?"

"He didn't"

"When are you going back to LA?"

"Next month, if I'm given the ok by my doc"

Marla nodded her head and watched Ashlynn take a very generous chug of the whiskey. Ashlynn was model gorgeous and could have any guy she please, but of course she fell for the club Assassin. It doesn't get much deeper in SOA than being a club hit man.

Ashlynn made up her mind to finish the bottle, and Marla could tell it was going to be a long night. Happy was not someone Ashlynn should be with. They were both explosive, unpredictable, dangerous, and generally reckless. Both considered themselves to be Alphas in the relationship, so clearly they were never on the same page….chapter…hell, even book. They fought…they fucked…they repeated. It was unhealthy, but Marla knew they loved each other. It wasn't out in the open or even in the privacy of their shared dorm room, but Marla had seen it.

Ashlynn was the only one who could get Happy out of his dark place and turn off his killer switch. Happy was the only one who Ashlynn let bathe and clothe her after she almost died in her wreck. After that accident, Happy patched SAMCRO from SAMTAC.

"He don't want kids Marla." She looked sad as she drank Marla's bottle.

"Neither do you Ash."

She shrugged and handed the bottle back to Marla. Behind her Happy seemed to enter from the same darkness Ashlynn had. He walked up to Ashlynn and held out a water bottle. He stopped short when he saw Marla's face.

"We are going back to our room, right Hap."

Happy kept his eyes locked in on Marla's eye.

"Babe, is the prospect outside?" This pulled Happy's attention back to Ashlynn

"Why the fuck do you care?"

"Because I'm in love with him"

"Good. Go out there and be with him. He keeps looking this way anyways. Is he waiting for you to meet him?"

Ashlynn smiled and looked Marla in the eyes.

"Just thought I would ask" With that she turned and headed toward the dorm room, leaving Happy behind.

"Crazy bitch." He growled before following Ashlynn out.

Marla had to laugh at the antics of Ashlynn. She would blame it on the JD, but she was going to go out and look for the prospect.

By the time she made it to the picnic table she was wishing she had brought the bottle with her. This was stupid and slightly creepy. The liquid courage was failing her now.

"Want a smoke?"

His hand reached into his cut and pulled out his pack. Marla just nodded her head slightly and watched him. He was a lot more attractive without the croweater and up close. She felt her heart beating in a silly school girl way. The itch turned into a full body reaction.

"Did Aaron do that to you?"

Of course. Marla was so stupid. He was looking at her because she looked like a battered woman. She felt her face blush brightly as she took a step away from him. Marla had never felt so foolish.

"Wait, I'm…sorry—that came out wrong. Your eyes are just so pretty—ok now I… this isn't what I was going to say—you see, there…I—ah…have a cigarette."

Marla paused slightly before finally accepting the cigarette olive branch, so to speak. Sitting down on the picnic bench, she patted a spot next to her.

They smoked in silence just enjoying the moment away from the party. When they finished, both seemed reluctant to move.

"Marla, I've wanted to do this since my first day at the garage. I cant take it any longer. If it cost me my patch, ok then."

What is it he was talking abo—

His hands grabbed her face and pulled her in for a kiss. Marla felt this kiss though out her whole body and the itch turned into flames under her skin. Without a second of thought, she climbed onto his lap and straddled him on the bench.

From that moment on, Marla's destiny became intertwined with the Prospect with the mohawk and tribal tattoos.

Tara sat in the bathroom of her studio apartment. Chicago winters were the absolute worst, and growing up in California did not prepare her. She was cold and she was utterly alone. Being alone was something she was great at. Having an abusive drunk father taught you to keep yourself as hidden as possible. Tara spent a lot of time being angry. Angry at her father…angry at her life….angry at the never ending amount of shit circumstances she found herself in. Currently, she was staring down the handle of vodka on the ground in front of her.

Even when Tara tried to escape danger, she had a knack for finding it with someone else. She thought dating the opposite of Jackson would be the ticket to…safety. Tara spent 19 years afraid of her own shadow. Simply living was dangerous enough, and she grew up looking over her shoulder every second. She promised herself she would get out of Charming, or she would end up in a shallow unmarked grave. The only person who put life into her was Jax, but he was also the one dragging her along with him straight to hell.

Tara loved Jax, but she only knew how to survive. When she got accepted to medical school, she knew she was given her only chance to get out. The drive to survive was something that dictated her every move. She couldn't think, she couldn't breathe, she only focused on making it another day. Tara always figured out a way to survive.

Last year Ashlynn was run off the road because of SAMCRO. If Tara was still in Charming, there is no question it would have been her instead. Tara followed the news, and there was national coverage on the car accident of a professional surfer. The news didn't dig very deep into the story. It was just a coverage of the accident. Tara's heart stopped beating for a second when she found out. She tried to follow the news of Charming. Tara told herself it was to stay updated on her father, but she knew she was waiting to hear if Jax wound up in jail or…well.

The bottle was looking back at her, and she felt helpless. Her ATF agent boyfriend wouldn't stop beating up on her, and she was fighting tooth and nail to get the surgical residence. Tara wasn't happy, and if she was honest with herself she hadn't been happy since she got on the plane. This was the life she fought for, but once she got it…

Most nights when she was alone she would cry for Jax. She knew she broke him by leaving, and every second she was away from him she lost a part of herself. But she knew she made the right choice. That toxic town and that stupid Motorcycle Club would kill her. The brotherhood bullshit might have worked on other women, but Tara wasn't stupid. It was a gang and it was violent and deadly. There was no brotherhood, those men were delusional. Everyone in that MC only cared about greed and self-preservation.

Tara had watched the men of SAMCRO get locked up or killed off. They treated prison and death like a badge of honor for the MC. There was so much respect in going out this way. Tara was there when JT died, and she held Jackson as his heart shattered. There was no respect…there was no pride in this life. When you are gone, the only thing you leave behind is a broken family. You die or spend your life in prison and the only thing you are remembered for was resentment and loneliness.

There was more to life than outlaw, and all she wanted was for Jax to go with her. Jackson was smart and driven. He had so much potential for true success, but he was born into that life. His death certificate was signed the minute he entered the world.

Tara pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. Her finger landed on Jax's prepaid number. She hadn't spoken to him on it in years, and she was sure it was disconnected and burned by now. Her thumb tapped the screen for a few minutes before finally brushing against the send button. She just needed to hear the disconnected tone, or at least someone saying it was the wrong number. Hearing that would make it final. Maybe then she could try for some little happiness.

Her heart pounded as she waited for the call to not go through. The loud ringing threw her off and she waited for something to happen.

"Hello?"

Tara froze in shock. All the blood in her body ran cold as her hand shook violently. He wasn't supposed to answer.

She could hear loud noises in the background, it was a Saturday after all. Some things never change.

"Tara… is this you?" His voice seemed worried and slightly confused.

"Please. Just say something—Tara, please."

"You—you weren't supposed to answer." Tara whispered into the phone.

"If you're in some kind of trouble, tell me. What's going on?"

She could hear the panic in his voice. This was a huge mistake, and she was making it worse.

"I—I'm fine. I just..I don't know why I did this. I shouldn't…I thought this would be burned by now."

Tara heard Jax release a long sigh and waited for him to say anything. She could tell he was on the move because the sounds in the background were fading. She twirled a piece of her hair waiting for him to do…something

"You still there?"

"Yes"

"Tara, you can't—you can't do this to me. You left. You wanted out and I didn't even chase you down. I let you go. I just—I don't know."

Tara felt tears pour down her face, and she could feel his heartbreak over the phone.

"You know what that crow means. When you're ready…just, come home."

"I'm not coming home, Jackson."

His voice got quiet on the other end

"I know darlin', but if you come back to this town—you're coming back to me."

Tara knew in that moment that she would.