Chapter Text
When the prospects were ordered out and Chibs shed his cut, Juice knew where this was probably headed. Nevertheless he rolled his head and feigned confidence. “What’s going on?” he asked, setting down the tool in his hand.
“I’m a bit worried about you, Juciy.” Chibs replied.
Juice looked down and shrugged. “I’m okay, man.”
“No, no, no. Not how you are. I’m worried about what you might do.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Juice said, confused. You’ll have to narrow it down, he thought. There are so many things to be worried about.
“You stole from us to help a cop.” Chibs pushed off from the counter he was leaning against, not yet moving into Juice’s space but warning him with every hard line of his body of what was to come. “And you killed a brother.”
“No.” Juice said, desperate. “Miles tried to-”
“You ratted.” Chibs snarled. “And then you took a cowardly swing from a tree.” And there it was, Juice thought. The disgust, plain as day. Juice twisted his head to the side out of habit but forced himself to look back at Chibs.
As he talked Chibs slid off his rings one by one, setting them on the table behind him. The action was more of a promise then a threat and as each one thudded onto the work counter Juice stiffened further.
“I never meant to hurt the club.”
“But you did. And for some reason Jax has given you a pardon.” Chibs shook his head, mouth twisted. “And there’s nothing I can do about that.” Chibs blinked like he couldn’t comprehend why Jax was letting him get away scot free. His stepped forward and Juice shifted onto his heels but didn’t move otherwise, letting Chibs come to him. “But I got to get right with it somehow.”
“I love you, brother.” Juice took his stance, on his toes, leaning towards him, chin out, presenting himself.
“I know.” The contempt was written all over his face as Chibs pulled back and socked him right in the jaw. The force of the blow stunned him and he tripped backwards, catching himself on a rolling cart, which skidded to the side. He bounced back up, knowing this was only the beginning, begging for more with the way he pressed close, eager to make this right. If the price was his flesh, he was more than willing to let it be taken. A small cut opened in the corner of his lip. He relished the metallic taste as his tongue darted out to probe the tiny incision.
Chibs raised his fist and punched him again. He hit the dolly a second time and when he didn’t stand immediately, Chibs leaned down and grabbed his arm to yank him upright. Juice caught himself on the solid weight, slinging an arm over his shoulder more out of necessity then because he wanted to hug his brother. He inhaled deeply, savoring Chibs' smell as his face dropped into his shoulder.
Chibs didn't let it last; he pushed Juice away, one hand on his throat to keep him on his feet and punched him again. This time he hit the floor. He stayed down but it didn’t matter because Chibs crouched over his torso to fist the collar of his t-shirt and hold him up as he left his bloody mark.
Each time he felt the blow a little less as his face went numb, and the pain blurred together. Slowly his grunts and gasps got quieter and finally Chibs let him fall back against the foot of the lift and lay limp. He couldn’t figure out what had split open and what was just swollen because it all felt hot and tight. He waited for Chibs to leave the garage before gently laying his face to the cold concreate floor.
Juice inhaled deeply, the smell of grease and gunpowder like cold water to his nerves. He knew he was probably getting dirt in the cuts but couldn’t bring himself to care. Slowly he pushed himself to his knees and then to his feet, his head swimming dangerously. He closed his eye- the one that wasn’t swollen yet- and sighed. Sure he’d be healing for a month but what was that when he was forgiven? The horrible tangled feeling still twisted in his gut- like his intestines were trying to strangle themselves- but his head was clearing a little. Maybe this was the end. He could only hope.
He made it to the bathroom and ended up throwing up into the toilet. He dry heaved for several minutes after before righting himself and standing in front of the grimy mirror. He gently ran wet hands over his face and examined the angry red marks littering his face. It hurt like a bitch but he ignored the aspirin bottle in the little cabinet. He would take every second of this pain and endure and when Chibs felt better he’d return to his bed and take everything back. This was his probation, Juice knew. How he dealt with the aftermath of the beat down was as much as part of the test as the actually act.
It was violent but at the same time cathartic. Chibs needed it and a small part of Juice did as well. Juice stared back at himself in the mirror and dug a thumb into the cut under his eye. He hissed in pain but immediately felt better as all the thoughts in his head died down for a moment of stunning clarity. Juice let out a long breath. Yes, he thought with certainly. The end was nigh.