𝚃𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙰𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 // Happy Lowman x OC

03.

The next morning...
Season 3, Episode 3...

"Your hands look like mine feel." Clay and the rest of the SAMCRO guys approach Jax who's posted on the wooden picnic table outside of the clubhouse. Taking a drag from his cigarette he looks up to Clay. Jimmy O'Phelan had him at his wits end and he felt he was getting nowhere fast in finding his son.

"We stick with plan A," Jax huffs, "You guys drop off the guns, me and Clay will pick up mom. We all head north, find my kid." The group observes the man as he drops his head.

"Here's 10 grand for Serg's tracker," Opie steps up to Jax, handing him an envelope full of cash. Jax grabs the envelope from him with wide eyes as Opie continues, "Sold the panhead."

"Thanks bro." Jax says stepping off the table, taking him in a hug as Opie nods. The rest of the men look on.

"You ready to do this?" Jax steps, looking at his club mates, receiving nods and "yups" in approve.

"There's one more thing I got for you son. You said it best, we need all of the help we can get-" Clay starts, their club mates look back in confusion as the rumble of motorcycles entering the gate grabs their attention.

"That who I think it is?" Piney directs towards Clay and he nods. Jax squints trying to get a better look at the three when he sees the nomad emblem on their kuttes. He looks at Clay in disbelief.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶ RYDER'S POV ➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

This is it. After years on the road, laying low, keeping my identity hidden, I was finally gonna let the secret out to the mother charter. The cool breeze against my skin was the only thing keeping the nerves in check as we pulled into Teller-Morrow Automotive. I was going to wait for Clay's call to meet with him and Jax in private but I had already made up my mind. I was gonna come home, or at least stop using my identity as an excuse to not be present for my family or for the club.

I follow behind Lazarus and Auro to the end of the line of bikes, parking alongside them and I take a deep breath. I recognize a few of the men in the huddle outside of the clubhouse and as I continue to scan them all, I lock eyes with the same man I saw last night at St.Thomas, Happy. I try to pay him little mind as Laz and Auro begin to get off their bikes.

"Here we go," I mumble to myself, taking in another deep breath for good measure. I unbuckle my helmet, taking it off and letting my long hair flow down my back. Placing the helmet on the handlebar, I slide off my sunglasses and hang them from the neckline of my cropped t-shirt.

Just as I turn off the engine of my bike, I hear a thick Scottish accent shout, "Holy shite, Lazarus!" Laz hops off his bike as the man walks towards him and they hug each other. He greets Auro next, "It's been ages you two, welcome back!"

Jax had spoke of a Scotsman apart of his club by the name of Chibs and my club always had good things to say. I finally decide to get off of my bike, flicking the kickstand out. Standing upright, my back now faced the crowd. Stop stalling, play it cool. I turn around, slightly dazed by the sunlight hitting my eyes. As my eyes adjust, I'm met with several confused and intrigued gazes. I meet Happy's eyes again, but my attention was grabbed quickly by the Scottish man who steps out in front of me.

"What's this? Y'all have to be joking around!" Chibs hovers over me, pointing down at my kutte then looks back at Clay. He takes a closer look at my patches reading 'President' 'Unholy Ones' 'Nomads' and then focusing on the memorial patch down near the bottom that read 'First 9', and his went agape. I smirk and proceed to walk past him towards SAMCRO's leading men. I was used to the surprised reactions to those I'd reveal myself to, but this time was rather amusing.