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General trigger warnings for this story: Language, smut, mentions of rape, abuse, drug use/overdose, violence/death.
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Sydney moved around the kitchen as quietly as she could while making breakfast, selfishly hoping that if she let Tig get as much extra sleep as possible after the rough night then maybe, somehow, he would magically wake up without the guilt of what had taken place the day before.
She zoned out as she swirled butter around the hot pan, her mind wandering back to everything that he had told her just hours ago. The failed hit was both a blessing and a curse - giving her the chance that she had so desperately desired as a member to correct the mistake that she'd so stupidly made as an old lady by letting him go through with it, but terrifying her at the same time to have found out that for one reason or another; he hadn't been able to. It had been what she'd wanted, yes, but not like this - not at the cost of his sanity, which she now had to worry about on top of everything else. She knew that a threat this big wasn't something that could be swept under the rug after one failed attempt. One way or another Opie would meet Mr. Mayhem, the only question that mattered now was when - and it was the only question that she couldn't ask.
"Morning." She snapped out of her haze when she heard the grumbly voice behind her, blinking a few times as she yanked the pan off of the heat before the now sizzling butter could burn.
"Morning." She tried to sound as chipper as possible as she turned to see Tig pouring himself a cup of coffee while clearly trying to avoid eye contact. "Um." She cleared her throat, searching for something to fill the silence with - desperate to drown out the blaring reminder of the unspoken predicament that they were in. "Do you want tomatoes?" She nodded to the island that was covered in all of the other sandwich fixings that she'd cut and laid out before she made to begin frying the eggs.
"Whatever you're making is fine, babe." He did his best to keep the dreary tone from his voice, shaking his head as he made his way over to the table with his coffee - knowing that if he'd been left to his own devices, he would be facing the day with an empty stomach.
Sydney nodded as she turned back to the stove, the unsuccessful attempt only making her stomach sink further. She wished that he would've just been honest with her last night... Told her what had really happened so that she could help make sure that it didn't happen again. But she knew that the only way to do that was by pretending that nothing had happened at all. She knew Tig well enough by now to know that any attention she paid to this kind of slip-up would only fuel him to right that wrong even faster than he already felt the need to - and that was the one thing that she was trying to avoid.
"I missed this." She was pulled from the turmoil in her head yet again by his voice, looking up to see him standing in front of her with a lazy smile as he nodded to the kitchen that was in disarray as she tried to cook and problem solve at the same time.
Tig felt his forced expression fading much quicker than he'd anticipated after deciding that he needed to do something more to try and throw her off of the trail that she had sniffed out far too easily, blinking as he looked down and began fumbling with his wrinkled shirt - the first distraction that he could think of.
"Um, there's a free rack in the closet." She was glad for his obvious cover - what could've been an awkward moment helping to remind her that she'd cleared some space since he'd mentioned it during her frantic search over the past few days for something to busy her tormented mind. "If you wanted to hang some stuff..." She felt her face tingling with a bashful nervousness as she turned to avoid his eyes. Any other day she would've cringed at herself for the softness that she allowed herself to display - asking a man to move his things into her house - but under the circumstances, it was a welcome feeling.
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