SoA : What's a cut on a finger ?

A/ N: Blah. A little heavy but the scene played in my mind. So I might have as well written that down.

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What's a cut on a finger?

While Asma was cutting onions she hurt her finger. It didn't draw much blood as it was quite superficial. Tig watched as she put her hand under the stream of cold water and tilted her head to watch the blood vanish in the sink. She was cursing under her breath, more upset than usual and he realized that she had been in that mood for over a week. He didn't have the chance to spend enough time with the tattoo artist. She would be busy working or he would be out of town with the boys, handling some business for the club. Of course, he couldn't know her mother passed away and that situation made Asma even more sensitive to what was happening around her. Jessica was different. She was worried to say the very least. Without hesitation, she offered Asma to come stay at her house, with Jax and the kids. Asma would take care of the kids, giving some more needed private time to Jess and Jax and in exchange, Jessica would make sure they spent time together every night, watching movies, talking about life and of course hugging Asma's pain out. It worked, for the time being, Asma was feeling much better with her sister but it only was the beginning. The beginning of something worse.

Asma could feel it in her bones, that Jessica was hiding something but since they all agreed, Asma should be kept out of the loop regarding the clubs businesses, she suspected it had something to do with that. It killed her not to know, not to be able to ask questions. It killed her every time she looked into Jessica's glacier eyes because she could read the panic and the pain. She could read the stress and feel the tension but she couldn't know what exactly triggered those emotions or how to help Jessica and it was breaking her heart. The brunette put on a brave face, as she always did, and instead focused on helping Asma deal with her loss. For the first time in a long while, Asma didn't feel the desire to drink. She wrote her letter, she said her piece, there was no need to drink...There was no other way through this but feeling everything. The third day was the day Asma cried in Jessica's arms. After they ate ice-cream and talked about the kids day and how sweet Ava was and how clever Abel and Thomas were. Asma recalled memories of her mother and it was all it took to make her weep like a babe.

What's a cut on finger?

At the end of the week, Jessica vanished. Asma didn't see her and didn't know where she went. She took care of the kids until Jax returned home. She gathered enough courage to tell him the truth about her one-week residency at his house and informed Jax that she would soon have to decide what to do with her mother's body. Her mother was alone when she died, all her friends were either gone or estranged. Asma was the only family left and she didn't know what to do. Her mother wanted to be buried but Asma knew she would never have the strength to organize a decent funeral. Jax stepped up and assured Asma that her mother would have the best funerals she could have ever dreamed of. She would be mourned by Asma's family, the one she chose to have, SAMCRO and the Knights. They would then celebrate life afterward, a nice get together at home with homemade food, beers, family. When Asma cried, he scratched the tip of his nose and pulled her into an embrace. « Yes, dummy, you're family for real. » He said in her ear. « You're not going to face this alone. » He patted her head and for a while, things were not as dreadful as they seemed to be.

That evening, however, as soon as she came home, Asma started to worry. Her mother just died and it finally sunk into her mind. She had lost her last living family member to a disease nobody could cure and now... now the family she chose for herself was living an extremely dangerous life. It dawned on her like hard liquor and distracted her enough to allow the knife to cut through her skin. Just like that, she could lose them and truly find herself alone. Of course, Asma had accepted already that this was their line of work and she couldn't do jack shit about it but it stung, it made her panic, it was suffocating. Tig realized she was having a panic attack, still unaware of what happened a week ago, he didn't quite know what to say to calm her down. She was washing her hand over and over and over again to the point of damaging the skin. He walked closer and turned off the stream of water and then wrapped the clean towel around her injured hand. She couldn't look at him, still focused on her wound.

« Let me clean it, let me clean it, it's not clean! It's not clean! » She struggled to get free but he used his soft voice.

« Bella... Bella.. you're alright. You're alright. »

« It's not clean. it's not-- » She looked at him this time, her hazel eyes stared into his baby blues and he tried and smiled at her. « Mom is dead... » She finally said. « I don't want you to die... I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be alone. You. Jess.Jax. Piepie. I refuse. I refuse...Please.. » her voice was shaky, her words interspersed with sobs. « Mom's dead... She's dead... » She wrapped her arms around Tig who pulled her into a tight hug and petted her head. She lost the energy to stand on her two feet so he helped her sat on the floor. He kept her in his arms until she calmed down.

What's a cut on a finger, when there's a cut in your soul?

-TBC-