All those things in that picture, they come flooding back… the hopes and hurts of a child, of a boy not even ten years old. The simple life, just day to day - outdoors, riding their bikes, bored at school, playing silly tricks on teachers and parents.

But already, an inkling that their life, their day to day, is not quite the same as that of the other boys. A mom keeping a gun in her handbag. A dad going around town with an armed escort, and never without his kutte. To a child, these things are exciting, they are mystical.

Now, looking at the picture, it is impossible to conjure up that feeling of excitement, the longing he used to feel whenever he saw J.T. and Piney with their patch, riding their motorcycles. What it was like, being the not quite ten year old in the photo, proud to be the son of the SAMCRO President, admired at school. And feared. Yes, he knew that, too.

And the boy next to him in the photo. In his memory, Opie's there constantly. They're never apart if they can help it. It now feels inevitable, that they would be best friends. The things both boys saw at home. Those things the other kids wouldn't understand. There were secrets to keep, even then, and to keep those secrets the boys needed each other.

That summer from the picture was the last one of their childhood. Things changed after that. First Thomas died, then J.T. And life was never the same. He wonders how life would have been different, had his brother not fallen ill, had his father survived. With what he knows now, about why Clay murdered J.T., he thinks it probably would have been very different indeed.

Had they gotten out of the gun business, or had J.T. taken his family somewhere else for a new beginning, this town would not be home, and his prison, now. And the man in the coffin in front of him might still be alive.

But he doesn't know what that life could have been. Truth be told, he can't even imagine it. He wants to get away, wants his family to live differently, but when he's being honest with himself, what would that even look like? He doesn't know.

How do you hold down a nine to five job? What does it mean, just being a normal guy with a wife and two kids and a mortgage? How do you live life without the support from the club? He feels he will never find out.

What he will find out, though, is how you live without your best friend. The friend who was there when you nicked your first pack of gum from the convenience store. When you went to your first strip club at fifteen, with a fake I.D. Who was in the front seat of the car with his own girl while you lost your virginity to one of the dancers in the back seat.

Opie's been there with him every step of the way. His best friend, who always had his back. Who'd beat up anyone at his say so. Who would, and did, kill to keep him safe.

When did he know that this wasn't a normal life? He doesn't remember, not any more. The night of his first kill, maybe that was it. He doesn't even recall, or maybe chooses not to, why the guy had to die. He knows it was Clay's doing, and now all he feels is hatred.

But back then, he was proud, and excited. He knew it was coming, that it was going to happen that night. He'd been given the weapon days before, and he still remembers what it felt like in his hand. He could feel that the destiny of that piece of metal was to make him a man. He had just turned eighteen.

It had not been at all what he thought it would be like. When the man lay dead at his feet, blood pooling around his trainers, he'd felt nothing. He didn't hear Opie yelling, the others firing their weapons. He just ran, ran after Opie, back to the cars. They threw themselves in and Opie got them out of there.

Neither spoke. Jax noticed they weren't going back to the club house, but he didn't challenge his friend. With the distance they were putting between them and the killing his feelings were starting to return. There were no words for what he felt, and there never would be later. But Opie seemed to know, and also seemed to know what Jax needed.

Opie took him to a bar, one they knew and where nobody ever asked questions. Jax doesn't remember much after they parked the car, but he knows Opie was there, all night, keeping him safe. He watched out for him while Jax drank himself to oblivion. Never before, and never since, has he been as drunk as that night. And he has Opie to thank that he didn't end up in jail, or with his head bashed in. They never talked about that night again.

When Jax became VP, and Opie went to prison, everything changed again. And this time, their friendship changed, too. Jax didn't mean for it to happen, it just did. Suddenly, he and Opie were not the boys in the picture any longer. Despite everything that had gone down, until that moment they had been just that. Boys living their adventure. But with the badge on his chest, and the prison look in Opie's eyes, they had gone down two different paths.

He didn't get it at the time, not really. Opie wanting out. Yeah, sure, he too was sick of the violence, afraid for his family, but being the second in command at SAMCRO made it hard for him to see what's what. That sometimes, when it comes down to it, the power and the money aren't enough. Now he gets it.

But now it's too late. Too late for the man lying in the box right here, but too late for him also. The time has run out to change things, to get away. Tara might still believe they can, but he knows better.

He's lost his way, just like his old man. Only difference is, he knows it's hopeless. Opie has taught him that. By hitting that guard in prison and giving himself up to the box, Opie has saved his life, one more time. But Jax is not even sure he still cares to be alive, if this is what life is.

Until now, Jax always thought they had each other's backs. Now he can see, he's never been there for Opie the same way Opie has been for him. He's been distracted by other things, by greed, by violence. Understandable, maybe. But to him, inexcusable all the same.

Things have changed again. And now he knows, once they do, you can never go back.