Wednesdays

Chapter 4

Natasha stayed the night, her stomach growing more unsettled the longer she spent trying to sleep. Her and Bishop shared a few texts but he didn't make good on his promise to call when everything was said and done. After a few hours, she decided to slip out of the bedroom to try to unwind. Pouring herself a drink and stealing one of the girls' cigarettes, Natasha sat on the porch staring at the stars. Feeling like some embarrassing cliche, Natasha blotted the tears from her eyes and texted Bishop.

"Hey, I'm still here. How'd the meeting go? Sorry, I got worried when you didn't call."

Watching obsessively as those three dots bounced on the screen as Bishop replied, Natasha's stomach churned. He was typing for so long, the dots disappearing momentarily, then suddenly her phone rang.

"Hey. You okay?" She asked eagerly.

"I'm okay," he said almost regretfully. "Shit went down," he growled, covering his sorrow with his bubbling rage. "Coco got hurt, Riz...he's in surgery. I don't know anything yet."

The information hit her hard, her brain practically rejecting the notion almost immediately. "Obispo," she whimpered. "I'm...I'm so sorry, I don't know... They're tough, you know that, they're Mayans."

"Tash, I gotta go," he stammered.

"Bishop, wait," Natasha said urgently. Still, Bishop ended the call to greet Coco on his way out of his hospital room. "Fuck," she hissed, throwing her cigarette into the dirt and hurrying back into the house.

There was no doubt he would be mad but Natasha knew this was her job so she grabbed her bag and took one of the community cars up for grabs behind the house.

On her way to the hospital, Natasha drove past the clubhouse, strictly for nostalgic purposes, to find it lit up. Stopping at the corner she checked the time and decided, rather than head up toward the casino unsure if they'd even be there, she'd take the safer option and wait for Bishop at the clubhouse.

Pulling up to the yard she honked, waiting for Chucky to appear, and slowly rolled in once he pushed open the gate for her. As soon as she jumped from the car, Natasha hugged Chucky, practically lifting him off the ground, and let out a joyful laugh.

"I missed you," she told him.

"I missed you too," he said with his usual anxious awkwardness. "Are...are you supposed to be here?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No and Bish is gonna be mad but I had to come."

"You heard what happened?"

"I did," she said sadly. "Are they on their way?"

"Angel said they'd be here soon," he said with a nod.

"Alright," she sighed. "Come on Chucky, let's go have a drink."

After only a beer and a half, Bishop, Hank, Angel, Coco, EZ, and Gilly returned to the clubhouse. Natasha stood up as soon as she heard their engines and watched as each member came through the door with the same look of sorrow on their faces. It hurt to see them so crushed but it did not compare to seeing Bishop's face as he and Hank finally made their way in.

"Bishop," she sighed, heading toward him.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, stepping away as she attempted to hug him.

Taken aback but too proud to show it, Natasha's body tensed and she stepped back. "I'm here for you."

"I don't need this shit," he barked, keeping his voice low. Grabbing her arm, Bishop pulled her away from the others. "Did you forget about the warrant, Natasha?"

She glared at him, her arms crossed over her chest. "No, but I thought considering what happened the warrant was kind of low on the list of important details. I came down here to be with you, to give you someone to talk to, to support you."

"Well now I have one more thing to fuckin' worry about," he snapped.

"You know I can take care of myself," she snarled. "Don't pretend like I'm some helpless girl wandering around the clubhouse and accept that you need some help. Just yesterday had your head on my lap pouring your heart out, I thought maybe you'd need to do that again."

"And I still got my guys hurt," he hissed. "All my calls are getting fucked up, shit keeps going sideways, I'm not adding you to the list."

"You don't have to worry about me," she reiterated. "I'm here to take care of you guys when your heads are clearly fucked. This is what I do, I'm safe here and you know that. Let me do this, Obispo, and know you don't have to think twice about my safety."

Bishop shook his head. "Why do you do this?"

"Because I'm me," she reminded him. "Because I love you and I love every single one of those men out there. Let me take care of you, just until Riz is out of the woods and until you know your next move, then I'll go back. I swear."

"You don't leave this goddamn clubhouse, Natasha, I mean it."

Smiling a little, she nodded and finally he allowed her to hug him. "Are you okay?"

"No," he admitted. "It was the fuckin' VM, Tash. We trusted SAMCRO with this deal, we trusted the fuckin' VM and they turned right around with fucking Molotov cocktails and semi-automatics."

"You'll make them pay," she said in a hushed tone, "You kill every fucking one of them."

Bishop finally pulled away from her, "Ain't that simple."

"What?" She laughed. "Yes, it is."

"Kings will be here in the morning," he told her. "We'll figure it out then."

"Figure what out?" She asked forcefully. "You just said you have to protect your guys. The VM is done. Dead."

Bishop shook his head and started back toward the main room of the clubhouse. "You should send Chucky out for groceries, everyone's gonna be hungry and we'll have even more guys to feed in a few hours."

"Wait," Natasha was about to mention her support of the complete annihilation of the Vatos when Bishop shook his head.

"Not now, Tash," Bishop ordered. "I mean it. Not. Now."

"Okay," she nodded, following him back. "I'll...I'll make a list for Chucky."

"Good girl," he said, kissing her cheek. "Thank you."