Jax needs him. Bobby needs him. Rat needs him. Happy needs him. Rane needs him. Allesandro needs him. Tig needs him. And no where in those dependencies does ’SHOW YOUR HEART FOR THE MASSES ‘ spell itself it. He is, undoubtedly, one of the more sensitive brothers when it comes to the matter of being in tune with emotions. But they are displayed sparingly, and appropriately, and largely only to Jax. To allow the fleeing of a one JUAN CARLOS ORTIZ to weigh upon him as anything other than anger was— foolish. He felt like a child, not a grown man. Only those in adolescence would allow themselves to be so touched.
❝Can’ put m’self ‘fore t’ club, Alison. Ye know tha’.❞
He sounded tired. Weary. And he is. He had never thought that such chaos would fall upon them; it wore on an individual, filled them with thoughts and feelings and traits which were undesirable. The Sons would be the death of him, he knew, but he never thought that revenge’s thirst would endanger them so. He’d tear his own heart out and present it on a silver platter shall his president request it; it was no help that he felt as if he would not even make it to his next birthday atop everything else.
The club… she never quite understood the allure. Though she tried for the sake of her brother she could never really get her head around it. All the club had given her was a dead s o n and now a brother, who looked as if he was wasting away. Shoulders slumped with an exhaustion that bore deep in his bones. He had to know that this life meant his end —-and still he continued to fight. For his brothers, for this club. Willingly putting himself in the line of fire; it was selfish. At least in her mind, because he didn’t just have his brothers. Granted they’d given him a reason to live again when she couldn’t. After Belfast after losing Fiona and Kerrianne… for that she couldn’t repay them. But if keeping the club meant losing Filip… she couldn’t accept that.
❝Wha’ happens when ye die eh? Whaddae ye expec’ me t'do? M'no good a’ bein’ alone. An’ ye’ can’ expec’ me t'wait ‘round an’ watch ye die. I can’. I won’.❞
Now she was the one being selfish, she knew what SAMCRO meant to her brother, that his loyalty ran deep and there was nothing she could say or do to change that. Because SAMCRO was a part of him. Like a limb, or a lung, or something equally important. And he was the club’s heart. The only way he’d give this life up was when his heart stopped b e a t i n g.
