Born Fighting
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
Part 7 of an Animal Kingdom x Sons of Anarchy Story
Y/N thought heartbreak was the hardest thing she’d ever survive. Then she went into labor two months early. As Charming waits anxiously outside the delivery room and Deran risks everything to stand beside her, one tiny baby changes all of their lives forever.
One month later, everything fell apart.
Deran was standing in the kitchen at Smurf’s house when his phone rang.
For the last four weeks, he’d slipped back into the rhythm of Oceanside like muscle memory—running jobs, keeping his head down, pretending none of Charming had changed him. Pretending he didn’t leave pieces of himself behind every time he drove away from Y/N and the baby.
The phone buzzed in his pocket.
He glanced down.
Gemma.
His stomach dropped instantly.
Gemma never called him directly.
Not unless something was wrong.
“Hello?”
“Deran—” Gemma sounded frantic. Breathless. Shaking. “Deran, it’s Y/N—”
The world stopped.
“What happened?” His voice came out sharp and panicked. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s bleeding,” Gemma cried. “She started bleeding and we rushed her to the hospital—they’re saying she has to deliver now—”
“No.” Deran’s grip tightened painfully around the phone. “No, no, this can't be happening.”
“She’s terrified, sweetheart. She keeps crying for Andrew.” Gemma’s voice cracked.
That sentence nearly destroyed him.
The room tilted around him.
“She keeps asking for him,” Gemma whispered. “I didn’t know who else to call.”
Deran forced himself to breathe.
“I’m coming.”
“Okay—we’re at Charming Memorial.”
“I’ll be there.”
The second he hung up, panic swallowed him whole.
The baby. You. Two months early.
Jesus Christ.
“Deran?”
He turned sharply.
Smurf stood in the doorway watching him carefully, cigarette between her fingers, eyes sharp and suspicious.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
His mind raced instantly.
He couldn’t tell her the truth. Couldn’t let her know about me. About the baby. About any of it.
“It’s Adrian,” he lied smoothly. “He got hurt. Bad.”
Smurf’s expression shifted immediately.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know.” He grabbed his keys quickly. “They just called me. I gotta go.”
“We’ll come with you.” She turned toward the living room immediately. “Baz! Craig!”
“No.”
The word came out too fast.
Too sharp.
Smurf slowly turned back toward him.
“No?”
Deran forced himself to calm down.
“I just…” He swallowed hard. “I need to handle this alone.”
She stared at him silently.
Reading him.
Looking for cracks.
Finally:
“Craig’s going with you.”
Deran’s jaw clenched immediately.
“Smurf—”
“Non-negotiable.”
God, he wanted to scream.
But he couldn’t.
Not yet.
Deran drove.
Craig followed two cars behind the entire way.
Close enough to watch him. Far enough to pretend it wasn’t surveillance.
Meanwhile Deran’s hands shook so badly on the steering wheel he thought he might crash.
You’re crying for Andrew.
The words wouldn’t leave his head.
Finally, he grabbed his phone and dialed Adrian.
“You need to leave town,” Deran said immediately.
“What?”
“Right now.”
“Deran, what the hell—”
“I’ll explain later. Pack a bag and disappear for a couple days.”
Silence.
Then cautiously:
“…Do you trust me?”
“Yeah.”
“Then go.”
Adrian didn’t argue after that.
Deran hung up and immediately pressed harder on the gas.
—
By the time he reached Charming Memorial, it was after midnight.
The hospital parking lot sat nearly empty under harsh fluorescent lights.
Deran barely got the Jeep into park before Craig pulled in behind him.
The second Craig stepped out—
Deran slammed him against the side of the car and shoved a gun into his ribs.
Craig froze instantly.
“What the fuck—”
“You've known.”
Deran’s voice was ice cold.
Craig’s face drained completely.
“You knew Y/N was pregnant before she left Oceanside.”
“Deran—”
“If one word gets back to Smurf,” he whispered dangerously, “I will bury you myself.”
Craig looked genuinely terrified now.
“I won’t say anything.”
“You’re damn right you won’t.”
Deran shoved him back roughly.
“You’re in this now. Which means you either protect them too…”
His eyes darkened.
“Or you become the problem.”
Craig nodded immediately.
Then both of them ran inside.
Because you needed him.
And nothing else mattered anymore.
The labor room smelled like blood, antiseptic, and fear.
Machines beeped constantly around me while contractions tore through my body hard enough to make me feel like I was splitting apart.
I was barely aware of anything except pain.
Gemma held one of my hands tightly while Tara moved around the room calmly giving instructions.
Jax hovered near the door looking terrified despite trying to hide it.
Then suddenly—
“Y/N!”
Deran.
My head snapped toward the doorway.
The second I saw him, I broke.
“Deran,” I sobbed.
He crossed the room instantly and grabbed my hand.
“I’m here.”
“I’m scared.”
His face nearly crumbled hearing that.
“You’re okay,” he whispered firmly. “You’re gonna be okay.”
“The baby—” Another contraction hit and I screamed. “He’s too early—what if something’s wrong—”
“Hey.” Deran grabbed my face gently. “Look at me.”
I forced myself to focus on him through tears.
“You are the strongest person I know,” he said fiercely. “You hear me? You can do this.”
“I want Andrew.”
The words shattered coming out of me.
“I know.”
His own voice cracked saying it.
“I know, sweetheart.”
Tara looked up briefly.
“Nine centimeters.”
Everything blurred after that.
Pain. Screaming. People talking around me.
Push.
Push again.
Again.
Again.
Then suddenly—
A cry.
Tiny. Weak. Alive.
I collapsed back against the bed sobbing instantly.
“Is he okay?”
Tara already had him.
“He’s breathing,” she said quickly. “But we need to get him to NICU now.”
No.
“No, wait—”
Nurses flooded the room.
My baby disappeared into blankets and wires before I could even fully see him.
“I wanna hold him,” I cried desperately.
“You will,” Tara promised gently. “But we need to help him first.”
Then he was gone.
And I shattered.
Deran wrapped both arms around me while I sobbed into his chest.
“He’s gonna be okay,” he whispered over and over.
But I could hear the fear in his voice too.
The waiting room felt suffocating.
Half the club had shown up by then—Chibs, Opie, Bobby, Tig, Juice—all spread across uncomfortable chairs drinking terrible coffee and waiting for news.
Craig stood awkwardly near the entrance looking wildly out of place.
Tig noticed immediately.
“Who the hell are you?”
Craig shifted nervously.
“I’m with Deran.”
“That’s comforting,” Tig muttered sarcastically.
Then Deran walked out of the hallway looking completely wrecked.
Everyone stood immediately.
“How is she?” Chibs asked.
Deran rubbed a hand over his face.
“She’s okay.” His voice cracked slightly. “The baby’s in NICU.”
Silence swallowed the room.
Then Tig looked back toward Craig again.
“So why’s Smurf’s boy lurking around Y/N? You especially?”
Deran’s entire expression hardened.
“He’s with me.”
But Tig wasn’t done.
“Oh, I get it,” he muttered. “You got a thing for your brother’s girl? You after his sloppy seconds?"
The room went deadly still.
Deran walked toward him slowly.
“Say that again.”
Tig opened his mouth—
And Deran punched him hard enough to break his nose.
Blood hit the floor instantly.
Nobody moved.
Deran stood over him breathing heavily.
“I’m gay.”
The room froze.
Tig blinked up at him, stunned.
“I don’t want Y/N,” Deran continued coldly. “I never wanted Y/N. She’s my family.”
Nobody spoke.
“I’m here because my brother’s too fucked up to see what he’s losing.”
The silence afterward felt enormous.
Then Chibs stood and pulled Deran into a hug.
“You’re a good man.”
And for the first time all night—
Deran finally looked like he might fall apart too.
Three hours later, I woke up.
Everything hurt.
My body felt heavy and numb at the same time, painkillers dulling the sharpest parts of it but not enough to erase the ache deep in my stomach and hips. My head felt foggy, like I was underwater, and for a second I couldn’t remember where I was.
Then the hospital smell hit me.
Antiseptic. Bleach. That cold, sterile scent that clung to everything.
My eyes opened slowly.
Gemma Teller Morrow was sitting beside my bed holding my hand, exhaustion written all over her face.
The second she saw me awake, her expression softened.
“Hey, baby.”
My throat felt raw when I spoke.
“Where’s my baby?”
The tears came immediately.
Gemma squeezed my hand tighter.
“He’s in the NICU,” she said gently. “But he’s stable. Tara says he’s doing really good.”
I tried sitting up instantly.
Pain ripped through my stomach hard enough to make me gasp.
“I need to see him.”
“Easy,” Gemma whispered, helping steady me. “Okay, okay. Let me get Tara.”
A few minutes later, Tara Knowles walked into the room carrying a chart.
The second she saw me trying to climb out of bed, she smiled softly.
“I expected nothing less.”
“I wanna see my son.”
And God, saying son out loud made everything feel real.
Tara nodded immediately.
“Okay. We’ll go slow.”
The walk to the NICU felt endless.
My legs were weak beneath me, my body still trembling from labor while Gemma kept one arm firmly around my waist helping me walk. Behind us, I could hear Deran and Chibs following quietly through the hallway.
Nobody talked much.
The hospital lights were too bright. The halls too quiet.
Every step made my anxiety worse.
Then Tara pushed open the NICU doors.
The room was dim and warm, soft monitor beeps filling the silence while rows of incubators lined the walls holding tiny fragile babies no bigger than dolls.
My heart started pounding instantly.
Tara guided us toward the far corner.
And then I saw him.
I stopped breathing.
Oh my God.
He was so small.
Smaller than I ever imagined possible.
His skin looked red and delicate beneath all the wires and tubes wrapped around him. His tiny chest rose and fell rapidly while machines monitored every single heartbeat.
A ventilator. An IV. Heart monitors.
My knees almost gave out.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
Tara stepped beside me immediately.
“He’s doing really well, Y/N,” she reassured gently. “Better than we expected.”
I couldn’t stop staring at him.
“He’s so little.”
“He is,” Tara admitted softly. “But he’s strong.”
My vision blurred instantly.
“Just like his mom.”
I reached trembling fingers toward the incubator glass.
“Can I hold him?”
My voice cracked so badly it barely sounded like me.
Tara glanced toward one of the NICU nurses, who smiled warmly.
“We can do skin-to-skin,” she explained softly. “It’s really good for premature babies. Helps regulate breathing, heart rate, temperature…”
“Yes,” I whispered immediately. “Please.”
They helped lower me carefully into a chair beside the incubator while the nurse gently maneuvered all the tubes and wires attached to him.
Then finally—
She placed him against my bare chest.
The second I felt him, I broke.
He was warm. Tiny. Fragile.
But he was mine.
My hands immediately curled protectively around him while tears spilled freely down my face.
“Hi, baby,” I whispered shakily. “Hi.”
His tiny body shifted slightly against me.
“I’m your mama,” I cried softly. “I’m right here.”
One tiny hand flexed against my skin.
And that absolutely destroyed me.
A sob left my chest before I could stop it.
Beside me, Deran wiped quickly at his face while his hand rested gently on my shoulder.
Gemma was openly crying now too.
Even Chibs had turned away pretending to look at something else while he wiped his eyes.
The NICU nurse smiled softly at all of us.
“Does this little cutie have a name yet?”
I looked back down at him.
At his tiny nose. His mouth. The shape of his face already looking so painfully like Andrew’s.
My chest tightened.
“Colten,” I whispered.
The nurse smiled.
“That’s beautiful.”
“Colten Cody Teller.”
Deran’s hand tightened slightly on my shoulder at the middle name.
The nurse wrote it carefully onto the chart.
“That’s a strong name.”
My throat closed painfully.
“Cody is his father’s name,” I whispered.
Even now, saying it hurt.
“Even if…” Tears slid down my face faster. “Even if he doesn’t wanna talk to me anymore. Even if he doesn’t want us…”
My voice cracked completely.
“I still needed him to have part of his dad.”
The room fell quiet after that.
Then softly beside me, Deran said:
“He’s perfect.”
I looked down at my son sleeping against my chest.
Tiny heartbeat fluttering against mine.
And for the first time in months—
I felt something other than grief.
I felt hope.
A/N: Thank you all for letting my imagination become something beautiful, thanking for loving it as well. I love reading your comments. 💕
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