sixthiterationlogs | 🍁 the times they are a changin' (ota)

WHO: Jax Teller
WHERE: porch of the 6I inn
WHEN: 25 October - mid afternoon
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: cursing, lbr

Hey, Abel. It's been a little while since I wrote to you so I wanted to sit down and tell you what's going on in this ~~fucked up~~ crazy prison I'm in. I miss you. You need to take care of Thomas and your mom, all right? I know I tell you that every time but I'm gonna keep writing it just to make sure it happens.

Snowed here the other day. It's getting cooler here but I don't have any idea of what the date is or shit like that. It's not like the real world, this place, and the longer I'm here the more it feels like I'm losing touch with what's real and what I can see and touch. It hadn't been that cold though, before, so the snow kind of came as a shock - seems to have melted, though.

Snow reminds me of Tahoe or up in Oregon where Gemma's people are from. It's not something we're ever gonna see in Charming, not unless something crazy happens. I'll take you kids skiing sometime when we get away. We're gonna get away someday, you know. Your mom's been after me to make that happen and I...

The wind catches then and the sheets come flying out of Jax's notebook, scattering the letter and some of the previous ones out across the porch and into the street in front of the inn. He scrambles to gather them up before they get trampled on and muddy because fuck if he's letting his only connection to his kids go and get ruined.

Is this what happened to his old man when he wrote his letters? Did John Teller write letters on scraps of paper on blustery fall days and hope that someday he was going to get to read them to his son? Jax has no fucking idea. There's so much shit he's finding out about his father after the fact that makes the hazy, golden childhood image of him tarnish a bit. He's afraid that's gonna be what happens with Abel and Thomas, that they'll read his letters and hear stories about him and think of him as some asshole and not as a hero like a father ought to be.

Jax pushes that down for the moment and focuses on grabbing up as much of the paper as he can, trying to keep his words and his tether to Charming and the real fucking world from getting soaked up with the mud and gloom of this place. Even if the snow's melted now and the leaves are pretty shades of red and gold he doesn't want to fucking be here.

"I hate this fucking place," he grumbles, stuffing bits of the letter back into the binding of the notebook.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Jude wants to say yeah, all the time. Jude wants to say nothing at all, take back the moment where he even mentioned her. Like he could just never bring her up, like he was the one person in the world who'd never had a mom.

He doesn't think Jax cares if he sits here and unpacks all the shit, though. It's a yes or no question, and he can tell pieces of the truth or just lie. Who's here to set the record straight? "No, not--not enough. She wasn't around, but she wanted to be, you know?" That much he hasn't doubted in about ten years.

"Hard when it's not a simple matter of them walking out on you. That? You can be pissed off and write them off forever. It's harder when they die or they're gone for a reason that is shitty on the face but you can't imagine any other way out of it."

He lets out a slow exhale, nods his head at Jude in sympathy. "It just you or did you have any brothers or sisters?"

According to Charlie and a slew of social workers, Jude has every reason to be pissed off at his mom. She didn't choose to leave, but she did hold him down in a tub.

And he's been pissed, cooking up Hamburger Helper in a trailer with his dad working over for one of his two jobs. He's been pissed at her for not being there, pissed at her for not being normal, but - he isn't either. And what Charlie never got, or never admitted to getting? Everything Jude said in his interviews, everything that got his mom put away? He still believes it.

He wasn't an infant. He let her do it, because it was important to her. She was baptizing him into something important, and whether or not it was real - she believed that. She thought she was being a good mom.

Hanging his head on his shoulders, he shrugs deeper into them. "Just me. My dad uh," it's a weird thing to admit, but he can't see the harm. It's one of the better things about Charlie. "He just signed my birth certificate and did his best after. He can't have kids."

"Better than most. Some fuckers father the kids and don't do the decency of being a father after the fact," Jax points out. "So it could be the other way around. At least he's a stand up guy."

Jax has done a lot of shit in his day but he's never walked out on his kids and if someone shows up with one, he'll honor that and take care of them same as he does Abel and Thomas.

"Just the two of you, though? No other family?"

"Had an uncle in town who passed," he says of Charlie's family. John had been decent, been the draw to Hollow Creek when the hearings were over and it was time to move on, or something like it. The trailer had been his - maybe that's why Charlie opted for a college fund instead of a house.

"Mom was," he stops, shrugs, lets his hair fall into his face then pushes it back. He doesn't like to talk about it, even if it's public record. Hell, that should be the excuse not to - go look it up if you fucking care.

But Jax can't look it up, and he's a decent sort. "Mom was all caught up in some cult, Charlie found her on the side of the road one day. Figured she left after she got knocked up. He never met her folks, but he got it squared away where they couldn't ask for custody either, just in case. I could probably go looking if I wanted, but I don't."

"Sucks, that you don't have anyone to go and find out there," Jax says. "I mean, unless you want to go looking for her family but again, like you said, you don't."

He wonders what his life in Charming would have been like without family to surround him - both in the forms of his parents, Clay, the other members of SAMCRO. It's some lonely ass shit.

"None of my people have ever showed up here. There's one whole goddamn family of people here but not one person from where I'm from."

"Does it," he asks, blinking a bit. "Is there something magical about taking the Greyhound out west to meet a bunch of strangers? If I got home, I'd just - go find Charlie. Go see my mom. I can do all that in one state."

The idea of trying to find the people who made his family what it was - a disbanded fucking mess - hasn't occurred and doesn't appeal.

"I noticed that. I never know if I want any of mine to show. I mean, Charlie, I guess. Finally give him a vacation, even if the weather sucks."

"Seems like he'd be an all right guy, based on what you've said." Jax knows his standards are different than others, though, but he likes to give people a chance. He's covered head to toe in fucking tattoos - everyone knows what they're getting with him, more or less, but he likes to surprise them if he can.

"If any of my people get here, I'll let you know. Some of 'em are good, some of them are bad but they're mine and that's all that really matters, you know?"

🍁 the times they are a changin' (ota)

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