It was quite some time ago that John had been in "the life" and it had not ended quite how he expected. That was a time when he had worked his way towards the top of a crime syndicate in Seattle. Eventually that led to him being the acting head of Waterfront district in Seattle.....but that was short lived position. It was a day he remembered quite well....

Some years ago...

"Hey! Grab the beer and the tackle box when you come back from the car." John shouted at his bodyguard.

It was a nice sunny day, which made it perfect to take a trip to the harbor and get some fishing in. There was this perfect spot near one of his warehouses which he had caught a couple of nice fish from before. This was one way for him to get away from it all and just focus on his thoughts. He had grown too accustomed to the wilderness and the big city could be overwhelming to the senses.

The chair he had left by the edge of the dock was still as he left it with the hat he had been trying to find sitting upon it. 

"There ya are, ya bastard." He muttered to himself.

John leaned the fishing rod against the railing and took a seat in the wooden chair. His line wasn't ready to go just yet as he needed to put a small weight on it along with a new hook. Before heading out here he had stopped by a little hunting and fishing shop to pick up some good worms. They'd help him catch a good dinner for that night...

The sun was warming as it rested upon John's face and he leaned back stretching his arms above his head. It had been some time since his bodyguard went to fetch the beer and tackle box. He turned around and shouted, "Hurry up ya slowpoke!" 

A few more moments went by and John started to get annoyed. As he began to turn around he felt the barrel of a pistol press against his back causing him to stop turning...

"So, I'm guessing my bodyguard won't be coming back with the beer?" He chuckled to himself.

"No asshole, he won't be. You and yours haven't done enough with what you have. It's time for others to take over and do something better with it all." The man said as John felt the barrel of the gun shaking a little bit.

"First time, huh? Can't believe they sent a first timer to take me out. That's just plain..." He took that moment to pull his revolver free from it's holster and try to make a quick move to take out his attacker first.

Two shots went off.....and then all John could remember was slamming into the water and blacking out....

The first thing John remembered after the events at the Waterfront was waking up on a small rickety fishing boat. He could hear somebody whistling a little tune and muttering to themselves. As he started to get up from the small cot he was on he winced in pain and fell back. It was then that he realized his shoulder was completely wrapped where he had been shot. The one good thing was that it didn't feel like the bullet was still in there.

An elderly man came slowly walking into the cabin of the boat and looked over at John while taking a seat across from him. He took in a breath and then reached over pulling out two beer bottles. The old man popped off both caps and then handed one to John.

"So, should I even ask why I fished you up out of the waters?" He said before taking his first sip.

John took down almost a third of the bottle before responding, "Well old timer, it wasn't with the law if that's your worry. I guess some people just decided it was my time to go. Although I suppose some sort of higher power might have chose otherwise." 

The answer seemed to suffice and the old man nodded before rising up from his seat....

"So should I take you back to the city?" He said as he approached the doorway.

"No, if you can avoid that then I'd be much obliged. Anywhere but the city will work for me old timer." John said as he took another couple of sips from his beer.

"Okay, I can bring you down the coast. I'm trying to make my way down into California. So that will have to be where we part ways. Now I know you've got a bullet wound, but that beer and cot won't come for free. I expect you to help out a bit when you feel up to it. I'm getting a bit too old for these long fishing trips. An extra hand wouldn't hurt." He turned to look at John.

John nodded in agreement and watched the old man make his way back out onto the deck of the boat. It wasn't the most ideal situation, but perhaps John would find the fresh start he needed after this attempt on his life. There definitely wasn't any place for him back in Seattle and he wouldn't have the same weight behind his name. Especially since he was sure it would spread that he was wacked so most would assume he was just some other John Marston or an impostor.

He laid back sipping on his bear contemplating what would be the next step in his hectic life...

A few weeks later...

John took his first steps onto something besides that fishing boat as he got onto the dock. He turned back and nodded at the old timer who had given him sanctuary and some work these past few weeks. It had actually been quite nice for John to truly just disappear from it all and just put in some good quality hard labor. The old timer was happy and so was John with the arrangement as they made their way down along the California coast, but it was time for John to move on.

As he made his way into the craziness that was this port, he spotted some men watching him at a distance. They were leaning on motorcycles, smoking cigarettes, and clearly carrying guns. He hadn't had much interaction with some of these west coast bikers he had heard about, but he had heard it was the next step in the evolution of the wild west outlaw so he had some ideas what they must be like. 

As he made his way towards the street he could see they had begun to follow him. This was either going to be a misunderstanding or some sort of mini-conflict for John. He hoped for the former, but he knew his luck wasn't that good. 

"Hey! Hey you! Cowboy!" One of the men shouted at him.

John sighed as he turned to face the three men, "How are you fine gentlemen and what can I do for ya?"

He could see that the men's 'vests' or whatever they were supposed to be had things written on them. One of them it said 'prospect', one said Sgt at Arms, and another didn't seem to have any special designation. They all had 'Sons of Anarchy' on them so he assumed that had to be the crew name. 

"You can start by telling us why you're getting off and heading into our city Cowboy. Especially with that revolver." He pointed at John's hip.

John looked down at the gun and then back at the three gentlemen who were now looking a bit uneasy except for the Sgt at Arms who had his gun already in hand. No shakiness this time so if this guy wanted him gone, it would more than likely happen in this instance. 

"Well, I'm looking for a fresh start down here in Cali. Had some things go south on me up north, so I figured I'd try things out down here in one of the largest states in the country. Is there a problem with me doing that?" He asked.

The one with the word 'prospect' written on his chest took a step towards John, "Yeah, we don't like the look of you. We got a bad feeling about people who show up out of nowhere carrying guns. Usually only means trouble for us and we like to get rid of trouble before it happens."

John yawned sarcastically, "Okay, now can one of the big boys talk to me now? The youngster here just ain't intimidating enough and I don't like to bullshit. I wanna get past this and move on with my day."

As John finished and looked at the other two, the 'prospect' took a swing at him. John side stepped it and then with one quick right hook he popped him in the Jaw dropping him to the ground. 

The man slowly got back up dusting himself off and turned to the Sgt at Arms, "That....that was a cheap shot. Let's just pop this guy and be on our way..." 

The man put his hand up to shut the prospect up...

"Just because you're shit at fighting doesn't mean it was a cheap shop. Next time try actually hitting him. Now you, Cowboy. He wasn't completely wrong when he said that we had a bad feeling about you.....but that was at first. Now I'm getting a whole other feeling. How'd you like to do some work for me?" 

John tilted his head in confusion, "So you went from wanting to intimidate and possibly kill me.....to a job offer? Well, I've had weirder interactions. Hell, I've got nowhere else I'm planning on going so I could try it out for a bit. You expecting me to wear any of that leather?"

The man smirked, "We have 'em in denim if you'd prefer. Although you won't be getting anything too fancy just yet. I'd like to see you do some work before I sponsor you to join the crew."

They shook on it and that's when John graduated from being just an Outlaw to being part of a Motorcycle club.

The work wasn't always easy and sometimes it was demeaning, but John slowly felt more and more comfortable with the new life he had chosen with the Sons of Anarchy. It wasn't long that he was given a denim patch with the word 'Prospect' in big lettering on the back of it. That was early on though and it had been a bit over a year since that day he got off that small fishing boat. He had slowly built up plenty of support within the crew and he knew that soon it would be time for them to vote on whether he became a full fledged member or not....

In recent weeks John had begun to miss his days of traveling through different states and just living however he wanted in the wild west. Although he probably wouldn't ever go back to riding a horse now that his love of motorcycles had grown and flourished, he still missed traveling. It was something he spoke of often with his sponsor and a few other members. 

John was making his way from a chair outside the clubhouse to his motorcycle when one of the members came out and yelled for John to come on inside. So without questioning it, he turned and made his way to see what was up. Once inside the dark bar room that welcomed you initially into the clubhouse he could see that nobody was around. He realized that they were all sitting in the other room at the table. The place that decisions were made.

"John come on in and take a seat at the table." Anarchy- yelled out.

The request confused John a bit as he had not been welcomed into that room before this day....

As he sat down he could see some of the looks around the room were quite serious. John knew he hadn't done anything wrong so he figured that possibly they had taken a vote and it didn't go his way.

"So John, we took a vote today on you and one of the other prospects. One of you got in and the other didn't. Bad news is, that the one who didn't get in. We know he's a rat and it's time to say goodbye." At that moment John's eyes went across the table to the other prospect who's face was filled with confusion.

Just as their gazes locked, the Sgt at Arms rose up behind the other prospect, raised his pistol.....and pulled the trigger. BANG!

"So, now that we took care of that. We'd like to happily welcome you into the crew John Marston. That means we'll need your patch so we can add a few things to make it official." Anarchy- motioned for him to remove his patch and hand it over to the Vice President.

The VP took some time with the patch and eventually handed it back to John allowing him to inspect the new additions to his patch and the missing 'Prospect' label that had been such an eyesore. The thing that immediately caught his attention was something that had been stitched to the lower part of the patch...."Nomad"

"What does..." Before John could finish, Anarchy- began to speak.

"We know how much you miss the open road and traveling. We have connections and smaller crews spread out across the country. I wanted to patch you in, but as a Nomad so that you can be part of this and also get some of that Nomad life you enjoy so much. Now I still want you to keep coming back here as much as you can though to help out." He said as he rose from the table and slammed the gavel down ending the meeting. 

"Thank you Prez. I won't forget this and I'll always think of this as my home wherever I'm at on the road." He went around shaking hands and hugging his new brothers as they welcomed him officially into the crew.