Pixie, First Daughter of Anarchy: Book 2

Mo Ghràdh

WARNING: Chapter contains mention of gore, panic attacks and blood.

"Sweet Caroline! BA, BA, BA!" Pixie and Chibs sang along to the song as they made a late dinner of fried fish, potato smiles and fresh vegetables. Pixie was sat on the kitchen counter as Chibs fried the fish, the pair of them jamming along to whatever was playing on the radio and hopping stations to find songs they liked. Chibs flipped the fish over and then stepped over to Pixie, doing a little dance along to the infamous tune to make Pixie laugh as she passed him the vegetables that she'd chopped and were ready to be cooked.

"We're all set, love, just gotta wait for everythin' ta be cooked." Chibs said once he'd sorted the food.

"Good, I'm hungry." Pixie said as she dropped the used utensils into the sink and grabbed her cup of tea, taking a sip.

"Aye, me too, other than tha' how ye feelin'?"

"I'm still considering throttling Clay, but I'm calmer now." Pixie told him. The second Pixie had stormed out of the room after her confrontation with Clay, she'd been grabbed by Tig and Happy and forcibly sat down so she couldn't go back and have a second round. It had been a while since they'd seen Pixie that furious and knew that if she heard Clay yell at Jax, she'd have been back in there like a bullet from a gun, ready to defend her brother. The Sons knew she was on a short fuse anyway after what happened at the gun trade, so this just exacerbated the situation.

"Good, and where are we on what happened before?" Chibs asked, and then internally cursed as Pixie jumped down from the counter.

"I'm gonna go get changed into something more comfortable." Pixie said as she strode out of the kitchen, literally dodging the question.

"We're gonna have ta talk about it." Chibs called after her.

"Later, dad." Pixie called back before he heard her bedroom door shut at the end of the hall. Chibs stroked his goatee and groaned. Pixie was resorting back to her old tactics of sitting on her emotions and not wanting to talk about painful memories, whatever the explosion had rattled loose tonight, was causing Pixie a great deal of agony and she wasn't processing it the way she needed to. Chibs leant his hands against the wooden kitchen counter and thought on what to do. His over-protective dad side wanted to take down the bedroom door and make Pixie tell him what was wrong so he could fix it, but he knew if he pressured Pixie too much, she was more likely to jump out the window and race off than sit down and talk. Sometimes Chibs wished kids had manuals like cars so he could look up what to do and how to fix the problem, but people were a lot more complex and there were parenting manuals, but none of them mentioned what to do about a hyperactive young adult with more trauma than most people would experience in a lifetime. He had to wait for Pixie, and trust in the fact that he'd shown Pixie love and support and that might get through to her enough to make her feel comfortable and open up to him. Chibs flipped the fish over and checked on the other food before he plated it up and poured out two glasses of orange juice. Pixie still hadn't come out yet, so he decided to call out for her.

"Ye gonna come eat, lovie?" Chibs said loudly, trying to sound casual. He turned around to check the plates over and resume his deep thinking, when there was a scuffling sound and suddenly he found himself with two small arms wrapped around his torso as Pixie hugged him from behind, fingers latching onto the grey t-shirt he was wearing. "There's ma lassie." He said gently, stroking her knuckles.

"Sorry." Pixie mumbled into his shirt, her voice wavering slightly. Chibs' eyebrows went up in slight confusion and worry as he carefully unlatched Pixie's fingers so he could turn around and work out what was going on. She looked so small and fragile with the way her hazel eyes shone with unshed tears and the big oversized fleecy panda hoodie seemed to accentuate that further.