≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

"Can we all agree that guy needs a permanent vacation?"

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

I LEANED AGAINST the railing, my arms crossed as I stared at the water rippling beneath Topper's boat. "Well, that's a nice boat for a Kook," I said, letting the words drip with just enough sarcasm to get under his skin.

"Thank you. It's actually a—" Topper started, but I cut him off with a loud, exaggerated yawn.

"Oh, sorry, were you saying something?" I flashed him a sweet, fake smile.

He shook his head with one of his own forced smiles. "Nope, nothing important," he replied, clearly catching the hint. Good. I wasn't in the mood for small talk with him, not now, not ever.

Sarah shifted beside me, her voice quieter when she spoke. "About Rafe..." she began. I turned my head toward her, suddenly feeling the heaviness in her tone. "He's been under so much pressure from Dad. And... the drugs," she added, her voice breaking slightly. "He's hanging around all these shady people, and Dad doesn't even care. I don't know why he would do something like this."

I didn't say anything right away. My gut twisted. Part of me felt bad for Rafe—maybe all he really wanted was to feel loved. But the other part of me hated him. Hated him for everything he'd done. For trying to drown his own sister. For throwing me into the ocean like I was nothing.

"I get it," I said quietly, finally breaking the silence. "But it doesn't excuse what he's done." My voice was sharper than I intended, but I wasn't going to sugarcoat it. Sarah's expression crumpled, and guilt immediately bubbled up in my chest.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "For what he did to you. For everything."

Without thinking, I pulled her into a hug. "It's not your fault," I murmured. "None of it is."

That night, we ended up curled up together in the Thornton family's boathouse. The bed was small, barely big enough for the two of us, but neither of us minded. After Sarah opened up about what Rafe had done to her, I told her my side of it too—the times he'd barged into my house, screaming and lashing out for reasons I never understood. The times I'd wondered what I could've possibly done to deserve being treated like that.

When morning came, Topper brought us breakfast—simple, nothing fancy. Still, I switched plates with Sarah, just in case. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I wasn't taking any chances. I picked at my food, eating just enough to keep up appearances, and let Sarah and Topper talk while I wandered to his mirror.

What I saw made my stomach sink. My hair looked like a bird's nest, my eyes were bloodshot with dark circles beneath them, and there was a bruise forming along my jawline. A nasty one. The kind I couldn't cover with one of Pope's stupid Peppa Pig band-aids.

Topper's boat rocked gently as he steered us back toward the Chateau. Sarah sat beside me, chatting with him like they hadn't just broken up not that long ago, while I stayed silent, lost in my own thoughts. Every replay of last night made my chest tighten. I'd been so sure that hit would knock Rafe out. But I'd been wrong. And because of that, Sarah had almost died.

The Chateau finally came into view, and I squinted, spotting four figures sitting on the HMS still tied to the dock.

"John B?" Sarah shot up. "John B!" she called out, grinning as she moved to the front of the boat, already reaching for the ropes.

The Pogues' reactions were mixed as we pulled up.

"What the hell are they doing with Topper?" Kie asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Oh my God, he's out." Sarah whispered, her relief evident as she began tying the boat off.

"There he is," Topper muttered under his breath, but I ignored him.

Sarah didn't waste a second before throwing her arms around John B. "Hey!" she greeted excitedly.

"Hi," he replied quietly, hugging her back just as tightly.

I stepped off the boat, JJ reaching out to help steady me before pulling me into a quick side hug. "Oh my God. I'm so glad you're okay," he said.

John B followed, giving me a hug that nearly knocked the air out of me. "I didn't know if I'd see you two again," he admitted.

I managed a small smile, but the moment was short-lived as Sarah pulled back from John B to get answers. "What happened?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

"They dropped the charges," John B explained simply.

"They dropped all the charges?"

John B nodded, then glanced at me. His expression shifted, and his gaze landed on the bruise on my jaw. "What happened out there?" he asked.

I hesitated, but Sarah jumped in before I could. "Rafe. He attacked us. That's why we didn't come back."

"Yeah, man. Rafe has lost his mind. Literally almost drowned his own sister." Topper spoke up from near his boat. "Thankfully, I got there... got there just in time.''

"Yeah, he did." Sarah nodded. "Mavis helped too, but he knocked her out."

''Yeah, right before she tried to knock him out, but it didnt quite work out.'' Topper mumbled as if trying to insult me.

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't knock out a 6'2" psycho junkie with my bare hands while you had a wooden board," I snapped. "And if you saw me try to knock him out but waited long enough for him to get back up before stepping in, that sounds like a you problem."

JJ smirked, clearly proud, while Topper just shut up.

"Uh, well, I guess I owe you one, Topper, don't I?" John B said, his tone awkward as he glanced toward the blond Kook.

"It's all good. I mean, somebody had to rescue your girlfriend, right?" Topper replied, smirking.

I saw the way John B's face twitched at that. "Uh, that's funny because she's not actually my girlfriend," he said, turning to Sarah. "Right?"

Sarah blinked, caught off guard, and hesitated for just a moment too long. "Uh... well, what is she then?" Topper pressed, his smirk widening like he was enjoying this way too much.

John B gave Sarah an encouraging nudge. "Tell him," he said.

I couldn't stop the wince that flickered across my face as Sarah looked between the two of them. Even JJ, usually quick with a quip, was wide-eyed and visibly uncomfortable, scratching the back of his neck like he wanted to be anywhere else.

"I'm—I'm... I'm with him," Sarah finally stammered, her words tumbling out clumsily.

Topper laughed, the sound grating in a way that made me clench my jaw. "Gotcha," he said. "You're with him. Okay, yeah. I just, like, needed a little clarity there. You guys clear on that?"

"I think it's clear you gotta go now," JJ snapped.

Topper raised his hands in mock surrender. "Yeah, I think I'm gonna head out. It's about that time," he agreed, still chuckling under his breath like he'd just won some kind of invisible game.

"Topper. Thank you," Sarah said, stepping forward to give him a hug. I rolled my eyes at the sight, barely hiding my disdain.

"Yeah, of course," Topper said, hugging her back. His gaze flicked to John B, and he added, "I'm just glad you're okay." His tone sounded sincere enough, but I wasn't buying it.

As soon as Topper stepped back onto his boat and started untying it, JJ muttered, "Finally," under his breath. I crossed my arms, watching as the Kook pushed off from the dock.

When the boat finally disappeared from view, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Well, that was awkward," I muttered, earning a quiet laugh from JJ.

"Awkward is an understatement," JJ replied, running a hand through his hair. "Can we all agree that guy needs a permanent vacation?"

No one disagreed.

The air inside the chateau smelled faintly of salt and damp wood and the sound of the ocean roared faintly in the background.

I finally stepped out of the bathroom. The oversized T-shirt I wore hung loosely over my frame, and John B's borrowed shorts sat awkwardly on my hips, cinched tight to keep them in place. My hair clung to my damp skin, but I didn't care. It wasn't about comfort anymore.

The faint ache in my jaw pulsed with every movement. My reflection in the fogged mirror still haunted me—the fading bruise on my back, the fresh mark on my jaw. Rafe. His face burned in my memory, along with the weight of helplessness I'd felt. I hated him. I hated that he was stronger than me. I hated that I couldn't fight back.

But I didn't cry. Not this time. Maybe I'd convinced myself I didn't deserve to.

The sound of the screen door creaking open pulled me from my thoughts. I stepped into the living room, where JJ sauntered to the door, a can of beer already in his hand. He turned, his signature smirk etched across his face.

''John B, you wanna shotgun one in the name of freedom?'' JJ called.

John B passed by without a word, his focus elsewhere. JJ turned his attention to Sarah, who was making her way through the house.

''Hey, Sarah, you wanna—''

''No!'' she shouted back over her shoulder before disappearing down the hallway.

JJ gave a small nod, barely phased, and popped open the can in his hand, taking a long sip. I followed him as he wandered back to the porch and sank onto the worn-out couch. 

He glanced up at me as I joined him, his expression softening as he passed me the can. ''Here,'' he said simply.

I took it without hesitation, lifting it to my lips and taking a sip. The bitter taste wasn't exactly my favourite, but it was oddly comforting.

JJ leaned back, his eyes glinting with mischief. ''You know we just kissed?'' he remarked casually.

I froze mid-sip, raising an eyebrow at him. ''Excuse me?''

''Our lips both touched the can,'' he clarified, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. ''That's basically a kiss.''

I let out a scoff, rolling my eyes. ''That's just our saliva touching, JJ. Germs. Not a real kiss.''

''Still counts,'' he said, taking the can back and grinning as he took another sip.

The teasing didn't last long, though. Something shifted in his expression as he handed me the can again. ''You okay?'' he asked, his voice quieter now.

I hesitated, then nodded toward him. ''Are you?''

JJ let out a laugh, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. ''You first,'' he said. ''You always put everyone else first, Mavie. So? Are you okay?''

I looked down at the can in my hand, twisting it idly. ''No,'' I admitted finally. My voice was barely above a whisper. ''I blame myself. For not knocking Rafe out, for not defending myself. For... just not being strong enough.'' My words came out in a rush. ''I hate that I didn't have the courage.''

JJ shifted closer, his hand brushing mine as he took the can from me. ''Mavie, you've got more courage than anyone I know,'' he said earnestly. ''I don't think I've ever admired someone as much as I admire you. The way you handle everything... how you still find it in you to love the world after all the crap it's thrown at you.''

His words hit me harder than I expected. I blinked back the sting of tears, looking at him through watery eyes. ''Thank you,'' I whispered.

JJ pulled me into a hug, his arms warm and reassuring around me. For a moment, the ache in my chest felt lighter.

Then, his phone buzzed loudly in his pocket, breaking the moment. JJ pulled back, fishing it out with a small groan. ''It's Guffy,'' he said, answering the call. His jaw tightened as he listened to the voice on the other end.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

THE SCENT OF grease and wood shavings clung to the room, mixing with the faint metallic tang of blood from Mr. Heyward's injury. Sarah leaned over him, her hands gentle but sure as she dabbed at the wound on his forehead with a damp cloth. 

''Let me know if I'm hurting you, okay?'' she murmured, glancing up at him with a tentative smile.

''No, you're doing just fine,'' Mr. Heyward assured her. ''Thank you, darlin','' he added, giving her a small nod of appreciation as she finished.

I stood a few steps away, arms crossed tightly over my chest, trying to push away the gnawing unease in my stomach. The sight of Heyward hurt like this—it wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

Pope shifted next to me. ''Pop, what happened?'' he asked as he stepped closer to his father.

Mr. Heyward exhaled heavily, his hand brushing over the now-bandaged wound. ''Oh, I should've known better,'' he began, shaking his head as if berating himself. ''He came in just as I was about to lock up. Caught me by surprise. Once he had me down, he put his knee in my chest, and he asked me about that... that... that key from that drawing you showed me.''

I saw Pope's jaw clench as his dad spoke, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

''And in case you're wondering, I ain't tell him nothing,'' Heyward continued firmly, his eyes meeting Pope's. ''Now did you track it down?''

Wordlessly, Pope reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, tarnished key. The way he handled it, carefully but almost resentfully, said everything about how he felt.

''I found it in Meemaw's old apartment right above the pharmacy, just like you said,'' Pope explained, lowering himself onto the bench beside his dad.

''Shit, boy,'' Heyward huffed, taking the key from him. ''You should've given this to me. I wouldn't have had to take a beating.''

The room fell into a tense silence. Pope dropped his gaze, guilt flashing across his face. ''What's the big deal? It ain't worth anything. Why do they want it so bad?''

''I don't know,'' Pope admitted, running a hand through his hair. ''First, I get this letter telling me I need to go to Charleston. Then I meet a rich lady who wants me to give her a key I didn't even know was in my family.''

''None of it makes any sense,'' Kie chimed in, sitting on the edge of the table nearby. 

Heyward leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at all of us. ''Well, don't y'all just sit here whining about it,'' he urged. ''Figure it out.''

Pope opened his mouth to argue, but Heyward cut him off before he could get the words out. ''No. I'm just gonna give the key to that lady. It's not worth—''

''No, no, no.'' Heyward's tone turned sharp, almost scolding. ''Did I raise you to back down from a fight, boy?''

Pope hesitated, then straightened slightly. ''No, sir.''

''Well, all right, then.'' Heyward nodded. ''Now, I didn't think about it before. I admit that. But now... now?'' He motioned to the bandage on his forehead. ''I'm interested. Did they say why they wanted it?''

''Something about an old cross,'' Pope answered. ''I think it might be some kind of lost treasure.''

Lost treasure? I crossed my arms tighter, leaning back against the wall. Of course it was about treasure. With us, it always was. Still, there was something about this key, this situation, that felt different.

Heyward broke into my thoughts. ''You know who you should talk to? Your great-grandmother. Meemaw.''

The room stilled for a moment, everyone digesting the suggestion. Pope stared at the key in his hand like it held answers he didn't yet understand. And me? I just couldn't shake the feeling that we were about to step into something we weren't ready for.

words: 2604

A/N

damn it's almost a shame this fic isn't about JJ. Dw Rafe will get his redemption arc soon.