Sons of Anarchy - Reader x Son Fan Fic

A Long Night - Opie

The porch light shone stark in the darkness, its attempt at brightening the night failing miserably. As you looked out the window of your home, all you could think of was the absence of sound. The run was supposed to be done by now. 

The kids were sleeping. It was a school day tomorrow and Opie had made you promise that, if they got in late, you wouldn't go out to the club to greet him. Rather, he'd wanted you to take care of Ellie and Kenny. As you swallowed and willed the rumble of a motorcycle to approach, you wondered if Opie had an inkling that he wouldn't be home tonight, after all. 

Over the year and a half you two had been together, Opie had only had to go on runs a couple of times. Each of the ones before had been short - a two day stint here, a four day there. This one, however, took him up the coast for the better part of two weeks. 

It was the longest you had ever gone without seeing his warm, hazel eyes. 

Taking a drink, you flicked the curtains back to cover the window and settled into the couch. You'd cleaned the house. You'd packed lunches. You'd even tried watching late night T.V. But, nothing was settling your mind. 

Pushing the bottle to the coffee table, you rested your head in your hands as your elbows met your knees. Fear had been kept at bay for most of your days, the need to work and manage the house and kids enough to keep the thoughts from clouding your mind. Nights, however, were a different story. 

Every single evening since Opie had left, you'd thought about how you'd survive it if he didn't return. Scenarios flitted through your brain like the images of an old black and white movie, dancing in skips and starts over your mind's eye as you pictured telling the kids, handling a funeral, and being alone. Each time the thoughts had hit, you'd forced yourself to remember a specific, good memory of Opie. Thankfully, those memories helped to push away the macabre images in your head. 

Tonight, however, the attempts to drown out the possibilities with past reality wasn't doing the trick. With each minute of silence, your heart grew heavier and your limbs numbed. What if he really didn't come home?

Unable to stop the thoughts, you drank more of the bottle. It was a bad idea. You knew it. The trick to drinking was that you should never do it to forget. You were too sunk in your imagined misery, though, to let wisdom overcome impulsiveness. 

You fell asleep with tears on your face, the bottle mostly empty and barely upright in your hand. 

Opie, of course, didn't know what had been happening in your mind. He didn't think twice about coasting into the drive, rather believing it better to avoid the sound that might wake you and the kids. He didn't expect to find his Old Lady in a pair of sleep shorts and tank, passed out on the couch and looking for all the world like she'd lost everything. 

Frowning, he pulled the bottle from your hand and tossed it in the kitchen. Looking around, he noted that everything was spotless. Stepping down the hall, he saw that the kids were sleeping soundly. In the fridge when he came back down the hall and into the kitchen, he recognized the packed lunches. Your state didn't match the house - it was all together and streamlined, while you had clearly been crying and upset. 

Kicking off his boots, Opie removed his kutte and clothing in the bedroom before returning to the living room. When there, he slipped his hands under your body and lifted, settling you against his chest. In your sleep, you murmured his name, causing him to smile slightly. 

Once he had you tucked into bed, he went and found the Tylenol and set up a glass of water. You'd never been much of a drinker and, if that bottle were anything to go by, you'd gone overboard on it tonight. You'd be feeling it in the morning. 

After he'd squared everything away, Opie slipped into the bed and raised a hand to caress your face. He wanted to wake you to find out what had upset you so much, but he didn't. Instead, he pulled you close and kissed your forehead. 

The heat of his body, the familiar scent of his skin, and the wire of his whiskers against you finally imprinted enough for your drunken mind to rouse from sleep. With slow blinks, you came awake and saw that Opie had come back. He was safe. 

"Hey, baby," he whispered, seeing your eyes focus on him in the soft glow that filtered from the hallway nightlight.

"Are you real?" you asked, the alcohol still strong enough in your system that you weren't sure if you were dreaming. Opie smiled and nodded. 

"Tequila's not your drink," he said with amusement. You ignored the teasing as tears of relief began to fall. Opie saw them and frowned, raising a hand back up to your face as he spoke. 

"What's wrong?" he asked softly. The tenderness in his eyes, the sweetness of his voice, the heat of his touch - it was all too much. You began to sob. 

"Shhh," Opie whispered, dragging you close. His arms circled you as his legs tangled with yours. You could feel the roughness of his hair on your flesh and it just amplified your reaction, causing you to bury your head in his neck as all the fear of loss slipped away. 

It was quite a while before your tears dried and your sobs turned to the occasional hiccup. When you'd settled enough, you realized that Opie was rubbing circles on your back as he murmured to you. Sniffling, you placed a kiss on his neck. 

"Why, baby?" he asked.

"I thought I'd lost you," you admitted, your voice cracking on the words as the remembered, imagined pain returned. "You weren't home when you thought you would be, and all I could think was that something happened. I-" you continued, only to be stopped when Opie pulled your face up for a kiss. 

Slowly, and with so much emotion, he moved his lips against yours. You melted into the feeling, relishing the sensation that your tortured mind had convinced you that you'd never experience again. The bliss that came with his touch, his caress, was almost otherworldly. 

"I'm sorry," he said when he lifted his head. "I should have called," he stated, his brows puckered. "I won't do it again; won't leave you wondering," he promised. You nodded, a watery smile coming to your face as your head swirled. The tequila was still making you and your reactions wobbly. 

"I love you," you said softly, looking into his beautiful eyes. He ran his nose alongside yours as he responded. 

"And I love you."