DISCLAIMER: EVERYTHING IN THIS FANFIC BELONGS TO KURT SUTTER AND ANYONE ASSOCIATED WITH SONS OF ANARCHY! HUSKY IS MY OC AND ONLY HE AND THE ORIGINAL STORYLINE BELONGS TO ME. EVERYTHING ELSE-CHARACTERS AND IDEA IS KURT'S THE MASTER!

PLEASE DON'T SUE ME, I LOVE YOU KURT SERIOUSLY-DON'T SUE. (totally forgot the disclaimer first time around lol)



Okay boys and girls listen up!

This is my first fanfic so we'll see how it goes. This is chapter one. Its a bit of a slow start but like I said in the summary Husky brings a shitstorm with him, so don't worry it's coming.

Another thing I'd like to say is thanks to Bekala, you're part of the reason this thing even made it here. So thanks.

And I checked for grammar and spelling but I'll point out there's still some mistakes. If they bother you alot you're welcome to tell me and I'll try my best to fix it.

Alright I'm gonna shut up now, but you'll see me again at the end.

Happy reading!

Chapter 1: Coming Home

He was back in his own country, it had been so long but he was finally back.

No, that wasn't right. He wasn't in his own country; he hadn't been there in 18 years. No, he wasn't there, but he was home. It had been 10 years since he was last here.

Ten years….

He stepped out of the SUV, the cold air hitting him in the face like a ton of bricks. This was California, it shouldn't be this cold.

He nodded to the driver, letting him know it was okay to leave. However, the black behemoth didn't pull out of the parking lot, it just sat there. The driver looking at him curiously, probably wondering why he didn't want to clean himself up before he got home. Instead, he nodded, shifted the gears and drove off into the night.

Husky stood there outside the clubhouse, his feet just froze there, a great part of him just wanted to take off and leave, to run, hell his entire being wanted to!

But he couldn't, no this was his home, his family, all of it was his.

He couldn't run away…..not anymore.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his shaky hands, he reached for the doorknob, only then did he realize how dirty they were, covered in foreign filth. Maybe he should have taken a shower; at first, it had never crossed his mind. Once he boarded that plane back to the US, the only thing he could focus on was getting home, and facing whatever lay in wait for him. He road the plane still marked from the war, still wearing his sweat-soaked uniform, the dried blood still on his face. And he allowed himself to be driven home without bothering to cleanup. He wondered if they would even recognize him, or had the war aged him beyond recognition? Or would he terrify them, looking so battle worn.

It didn't matter though, he was here now, they were his family, they'd take him back, and at least he hoped so.

He stepped through the doorway, taking just enough steps to put himself right in the middle, just enough so everyone in the room could see him, no matter who they were "servicing" at the moment.

As soon as he had opened the door though all eyes were on him. It was like a 50-pound weight had just landed on him for every pair of eyes. His backpack suddenly felt like a damn anvil. The surprise on his brothers' faces hit him like knives, each one twisting in his gut. He couldn't tell if they were happy or mad just surprised, their mouths hanging open. The whores and croweaters were shooed away; they exited through the door behind him glaring at him as they passed for ruining their fun.

He could see Bobby standing to his left, a cue stick in one hand and a beer hanging loosely from the other. Chibs, the Scotsman, stood near the bar, leaning on it, he had already dropped his whiskey, it laid on the floor beneath him, the brown liquid oozing out the bottle.

His other brothers were there too. Jax, Tig, Clay, Piney and Opie all standing some distance away, all not sure what to do but Clay, he glared, his blue eyes grey, burning holes in him. Ad Husky knew damn well why. The silence was momentarily broken though, as she entered the room, a tray full of coffee cups, plates, and various alcohols. All clattering to the floor with a loud shattering noise as pieces of glass flew in all directions. Her whole body shook and tears were hanging her eyes, but there was also anger, a deep-seated anger that had been boiling inside her and was now bubbling over.

Husky looked at Gemma, she was beautiful and strong as ever, the years had been kind to her. But he couldn't look her in the eyes, not after what he had done to her, the pain he caused her.

She strutted forward to him, quickly, every step with purpose. She stopped in front of him, her hands caressing hid face, she traced the scar on the side of his face so gently, but it sent sparks across his skin. Her fingers then moved to the wound above his eye, close to the hairline, the fresh wound that was still open and crusted with blood. Her mouth was open a bit like she still couldn't believe he was there, even though she could touch him and feel the warmth of his skin. He knew he had to say something, he had a hundred things to say, all running through his head, crashing into each other he couldn't form words. He did have one word though.

"Mom." No sooner had it left his mouth, did his head jerk to the side with a smack of skin on skin, and a vibrant red handprint on his face. He turned back to her, his eyes cold but not because of her or even the stinging slap she just gave him. His eyes had just been dead for a long time.

Gemma looked about ready to cry, but she wouldn't, not here in front of the rest of the club. She dragged him into an embrace making his backpack slip off his shoulders before squeezing him so tight he could barely breathe. Husky felt pain shooting up his spine and across his chest for he was still sore from his injuries. But there was no way he was going to push her away, she needed this.

And that she did, Gemma hugged her son tightly, holding him close, believing that if she held on long enough it would sink in that he was really here and he would never leave her again. "My boy." She muttered into his chest as they stood embracing each other, her head lying against his chest and his tilted on her shoulder.

It was like those two words were a cue to the rest of the group or something. For in minutes they were swarming around him, hugging him and patting him on the back. All muttering things along the lines of "I'm so glad you're back!" and "We all missed you brother." words of endearment coming from everyone's mouth. Even Clay who had glared so violently at him earlier, now only had eyes full of love for his son. He was still mad and he would be for a while, but Husky didn't blame him. The way he had left, had upset Gemma beyond all belief, seeing his love hurt like so probably killed Clay.

Eventually the greetings died away, and everyone stood around tears glistening around there eyes but not falling down their face. Ha, big bad bikers brought to tears over a brother coming home.

"Come on, lets get you cleaned up." Gemma whispered as she took her sons hand and led him to one of the dorms with a shower at the back of the clubhouse. Walking down the hall, Husky could here shouts of joy behind him, and his brothers yelling in glee as they prepared for a long of night of whores, drinks, and partying. All in celebration of Husky coming home.

His mother set about straightening up the room, as he drifted into the bathroom, stripping down and climbing into the shower. He turned the knobs; a feeling of instant security filling him as the water came crashing down on his face. Something about a nice shower just made him feel safe. He hissed a bit as the scalding water poured over him and into his open wounds, he thought he could hear his skin sizzle when the water pounded down onto the gash in his forehead. He could feel the dirt away, the scent of death falling away and circling the drain below. It took him awhile to realize the water was so hot it burned his skin; he quickly shut it off, and jumped out eager to get some cool air on his fiery flesh.

He walked the bathroom, a towel around his waist, easily finding the clothes laid out on the bed for him. Gemma watched as he changed, her eyes focused on the rippling of his muscles as he pulled on underwear and then his pants. But she couldn't take her eyes off his skin, how mutilated it was. The tears and puncture wounds that were along his side. She could only imagine the horror and pain he had to have suffered overseas.

She shuffled through the drawers for a few minutes coming up with a first-aid kit. She sat down on the bed, motioning for her son to sit beside her. He did the silence between them tense and suffocating. She pulled out the anti-septic wipes and began to clean he gash on his head, non too gently. Husky hissed at the burning sensation.

But Gemma continued without letting up, she then applied butterfly bandages to hold the wound closed, saying something about having Chibs stitch it up later.

She then proceeded to clean the shrapnel wounds that littered his side, this time using hydrogen peroxide. He hissed as the liquid seeped into the wounds, and then grunted as Gemma began to wrap his abdomen in bandages.

"Consider it a bit of payback." She said. A small, vindictive smile on her face. But tears were filling her eyes now. "You left without a word, and then you stopped writing or even calling. You have no idea what that did to us, to your brothers, to me." Before he could even say anything, she went on "Why?"

It was a simple question, yeah. But there was no simple answer. He had run away, as far as he could. But he had kept in touch until one morning he just stopped. "You just wake up on day and decide to cut ties with your family?"

"Mom, I couldn't say anything. You know how it was. We were in deep, I couldn't risk-" He didn't even flinch this time when she slapped him. How could he? He deserved it.

"Don't give me that classified bullshit!" His mom cried, the tears really flowing now. "You were always in deep, always at risk! But you always, always kept in touch." She was right, she always was. It was true, it was a pathetic lie, he had enough connections into the military, and he managed to get letters and the occasional phone call back home. He did just one day wake up and decide to cut off all ties with his family.

He had reasons, damn good reasons they seemed at the time! But now they just paled in comparison with the pain he caused his mother. He fucked up, and bad. He just hoped she would forgive him.

He embraced her, pulling her tightly to his chest, letting her sob against him. He lay back bringing her with him; she needed someone to hold her. No, she needed him to hold her. It was his entire fault anyway.

So that's what he did, he held her shaky form, his body suddenly feeling heavy. And his eyelids soon closed, he couldn't stop himself from falling asleep. He hadn't slept like this in a long time, he let darkness consume him as he thought about he finally had it all back. His mom, brothers, his family and the club. He had run away so long ago from SAMCRO and all they had to offer.

And after all, he experienced since then, and now seeing the damage his absence caused…

He couldn't think as to why he ever left.

Okay so what did you think?

First off thanks for taking the time to read it, it means alot.

Secondly I've got chapter two already written up, not sure when'll post it so I'm not gonna give you guys some updating schedule to go by. Just read it when you got the time that's all I ask.

Next I'd like to say reviews are extremely welcome. And I want to hear everything you got to say so don't be afraid to be honest any reviews that I get will be posted regaurdless of content.

But I do know some people don't feel comfortable about posting reviews sometimes so here is my solution.

KHoltzman13 gmail . com(sorry I have to type it like that)

That's my email its an account I set up for this specifically so those of you who have guest accounts and can't PM you can use this or if you just don't feel comfortable posting a review use this. Its priority mail, so everything in this mailbox is automatically read as soon as I get it and you'll get a response once I think of one, type it, and hit the send button. tats the best I can do. And if you don't want to use your real email to email me, set up a phony account. Simple as that.

Anyway you can use the email or review part on fanfiction, to send reviews, suggestions, questions, thoughts, requests, hate mail, love mail, praise, criticism. Whatever! I read it all, and I accept your feelings. My story can't make everyone happy but I sure as hell can try if you guys point the way.

I've talked to much already, so there you go. If you guys like this please spread the word around to your friends if not, well then don't.

Love it if you review! :D

Stay Frosty.