While Agatha ravaged Kildare, the inhabitants of The Chateau rested peacefully inside.

Dawn came and went without movement from the teenagers, all luxuriating in the extra hours of sleep summertime promised. It was a privilege they so often forgot, usually called into work or school.

Bea especially enjoyed the extra hours of sleep, cuddling close to JJ without interruption.

As the morning passed, the sun rising from its resting place to settle high in the sky, John B woke to the sound of crowing and water dripping repetitively onto his face. He was greeted with the present of no service and no power; Agatha had left but not without first gracing all of Kildare with a farewell gift.

JJ and Bea were in the same place he had left them the night before, spooning peacefully on the couch like an old married couple. From Bea's lips came the softest of snores, JJ muttering about something unknown in his dreams.

John B knew that waking Bea was a dangerous game, she had a surprisingly strong right hook, but without any interference, his friend would spend her life sleeping.

"Yo, JJ, you been outside?"

Bea didn't stir at his words, still fast asleep, but JJ woke quickly and with a groan, "I have polio, bro. I can't walk."

Typical JJ, overdramatic as all hell.

Outside, The Chateau was worse than John B expected. Uprooted trees and downed branches, he could see tables and chairs flipped and strewn about the leaf-covered ground in the midday sun. As John B assessed the damage, figuring out what could be fixed and what he would have to scrap, quiet conversation floated out from the screened windows.

"C'mon, Bumblebee, it's time to get up," JJ whispered. The voice his friend used could only be described as motherly. It reminded John B of a preschool teacher trying to get their students up from a nap.

The only response was a groan, undoubtedly Bea, and a mumbled, "Go away."

A struggle ensued; John B strained to hear. There was a faint thump followed by the screen door swinging open. JJ stood on the porch of The Chateau; Bea slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Put me down, Jennifer James, or I swear-"

JJ didn't waver, ignoring as Bea pounded weakly at his back with her fists, "Not until you wake up," he added as an afterthought, "and apologize for calling me Jennifer."

John B watched in uncontained amusement, used to his friend's antics, "You gonna put her down?"

"Haven't decided yet," JJ hummed.

Bea let out a whine, going limp over JJ's shoulder, "I'm sorry."

As he promised, JJ placed Bea onto her feet at her apology, cringing away from the onslaught of slaps she sent in his direction. But it didn't deter his enjoyment and laughter as Bea hissed at him, "I'm going to kill you-"

Hands out, JJ grabbed her wrists and stopped the attack, bringing Bea into a deep kiss that left John B vaguely nauseous. They might have thought they were being sneaky, but the only way they'd have been able to keep their "not-relationship" a secret was if all the Pogues were deaf and blind. While the two were much more secretive around the rest of their friends, the wall dropped around John B. He had known them the longest, which made it easier to see how obsessed JJ and Bea were about each other.

He had even made a bet with the rest of their friends.

According to John B, by the end of the summer, JJ and Bea would officially be together. Pope disagreed, positing that the two were already dating, and decided to keep it quiet. But, ever the pessimist, Kie said they would never admit it and keep circling each other like lovesick birds. John B was confident he'd win, maybe even share the money with JJ and Bea for securing him said cash.

Before it could evolve into an entire makeout session and go even farther from there, John B interrupted for his own sanity, "Are you two done?"

Bea blushed like a tomato as if she forgot they hadn't been alone, slapping JJ once more on the bicep before muttering a soft, "Sorry."

"Don't apologize, babe," JJ slung his tanned arm around Bea's shoulder, the two finally taking in the world around them outside of the other's lips, "he's just jealous."

"Fuck off, JJ, and help me with this," John B gestured to a pile of branches, pulling at the debris with his hands.

"Man," JJ whistled, eyes roaming over the destruction, "Agatha really did some work, huh?"

"Yeah, she did."

"I'm surprised this place survived," Bea frowned, "hurricanes are no joke."

JJ pulled her close, grabbing a lone can of beer that had managed to survive the gale-force winds and rain, "You really think Agatha could take down The Chateau?"

He took a long swig of the beer, burping when he came up to take a breath. The noise sent Bea stalking away from him in disgust, navigating the littered ground in her bare feet, which JJ quickly followed. Dodging branches and sticks, Bea and JJ approached their friend, who had started to clean out the mess in his boat.

John B pulled at the piles of branches and leaves blown into the HMS Pogue, and JJ observed his friend carefully, "Whatcha thinkin'?"

"I'm thinkin' that the storm surge pushed all the crabs out on the marsh maze," he kept his focus firmly on the task before him, ignoring the real question JJ had been asking, "all those drum are gonna chase the crab."

Bea and JJ shared a look, concerned for their friend and the denial he had been living in since Big John disappeared. The two closest to John B, spending nearly all their time around him, it was easy to see how affected he was by the DCS and his abandonment. John B might not have said anything, but he was treading water.

"Uh, aren't you forgetting something, cher?" Bea questioned, not wanting to push him but knowing that missing the DCS meeting would only prolong the inevitable.

He didn't respond, still pulling branches free from the skiff. JJ continued her question, "What about the DCS? Wasn't that today?"

"Nah, they're not getting on a ferry," John B smiled at the two, ignoring their dual concern, "come on, think about it. It's God tellin' us to fish."

JJ didn't need much convincing; he jumped in the HMS Pogue to join his friend in prepping the boat for the day. Bea could only roll her eyes at the two and their obsession with fishing, turning away from them to head back into the house.

Out of the corner of his eye, JJ spotted her retreating figure, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to change," Bea pulled at the borrowed shirt and boxers she had slept in, "no way in hell I'm letting anyone see me dressed like this."

It went unsaid that JJ and John B didn't count.

"If it helps," JJ added, "I think you look hot."

He smirked as a pink blush, the very same as earlier, burned at Bea's cheeks. She flipped him off, trying to tamper down her rising heat and bashfulness, and continued on her mission to look presentable once again. Between himself and John B, it didn't take much to get the HMS Pogue seaworthy again. Bea returned just in time to see the two boys transfer the skiff from land into the waters of The Outer Banks.

"You boys gonna put some clothes on or just hang around in your shorts?" Bea's voice captured their attention, one hand holding a canvas bag and the other perched on her hip.

JJ watched as she floated down the dock, entranced by her entire being. The denim shorts she wore and the dark blue bikini that peeked out of her tank top, his tank top, made her look like a model. JJ didn't know much about fashion or how girls liked to dress, but he was certain Bea would be beautiful no matter what.

Her hair, the color of honey and sunlight, was pulled back into a loose braid. It was the same one she always did; JJ had watched her pull back her hair a hundred times before. JJ knew that Bea was gorgeous, yet every time he saw her, it felt like the first time again. The very sight of her left him breathless, mouth agape like a fish waiting for a meal.

If that didn't mean he was in deep, JJ wasn't sure what did.

JJ didn't pride himself on being much of a romantic, but in his eyes, Bea was everything; she was his North Star. He could remember old fishing tales of men that had lost their way on the open sea, only to return home with the help of the constellation.

Bea was his own North Star, a way to center himself and find a way back to the place he called home. She was steady in the sky, and his mind, never wavering. Sometimes, when his life felt as though it was shaking at its very foundations, all JJ needed to do was find Bea.

Since his mother left, JJ felt more often than not that he was like those lost sailors, unsure which way would lead him home or to his doom. Since he could remember, JJ struggled to pick right and wrong, always worried that one bad choice would send him spiraling into the same life as his father.

It felt inevitable.

Then Bea appeared, shining in his eyes like the sky after a storm. She was not without demons of her own, but because of Bea, JJ learned how to set a course to safety and security.

Maybe it was sappy bullshit. But, then again, didn't most girls like that?

But JJ couldn't find a way to put it into words that she would understand. So instead of spilling his heart to Bea, JJ kept quiet, flirting and teasing rather than admitting all he wished to.

One day, he promised himself, I'll tell her the truth.

But that day wasn't anytime soon, so JJ dressed silently and ignored the aching of his heart.

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The first stop of the day was the familiar dockside storefront of Heywards.

Kildare harbor was much like the rest of the island. Sunken boats and trash littered the typically clear water; it was heartbreaking.

Bea knew most of the lower-income families wouldn't be able to afford pricey repairs or entirely new boats. They relied heavily on the boats, and to lose them to Agatha would be more detrimental than she could say.

It was at least a good thing to see many locals milling about, starting the long process of cleaning the mess Agatha had left in her wake. JJ and John B called out to the familiar faces as they cruised to Pope's family business, checking in and greeting those that had made their way to the docks.

"Well, look who we have here," John B called out, eyes settling on Pope as he hosed down the dock, "we have a safety meeting, attendance mandatory."

Bea giggled at her friend's stupidity, enjoying the sun on her skin as she lounged on the boat's bow.

"I can't," Pope groaned, "my dad's got me on lockdown."

"I'm sure you can take a break, Pope," Bea smiled up at him, trying to covertly wave him onto the boat.

"C'mon man," JJ cupped his hands, pretending to speak into a nonexistent walkie-talkie, "your dad's a pussy, over."

"JJ," she scolded, but her laughter was too strong, which Bea guessed was his intention.

Heyward approached his son and the Pogue's, rake in hand for the cleanup effort, "Oh, I heard that, you little bastard."

"We need your son," John B stalled the boat.

"Please, sir," Bea pleaded, you catch more flies with honey, trying to send a sweet smile in his direction, "Pope's been working real hard, I'm sure."

JJ nodded in agreement, "Yeah, and island rules, day after a hurricane is a free day."

"Who the hell made that up?"

"Uh, Pentagon, I think," he sent a wink in Bea's direction, "we have security clearance. I have a card."

"Pentagon?" Heyward sounded unconvinced, "Ya'll think I'm stupid?"

Pope and his father began to argue, Heyward as unmovable as a mountain, but the promise of a work-free day with his friends was too good for Pope to pass up.

"Get in the boat!" John B ordered, whispering in hopes of tempting the straight-laced boy.

"Make a run for it!"

Bea couldn't believe how bad of an influence the two of them were on poor Pope; why he still hung out with them remained unclear, and it was no surprise that Heyward didn't much like the Pogues.

Looking conflicted, Pope dropped the hose, ignoring his father's yells, before jumping into the HMS Pogue. While John B and JJ congratulated his rebellion, Bea called out to Heyward as they sped away, "Sorry, sir, we'll bring him back in a bit!"

They could hear his threats clear as day, even as they sped away, pulling out of the harbor with increased speed.

With Pope secured, Kie was the next stop. The young girl approached the boat, a cooler in hand, full of beer, snacks, and other necessities for a day on the water with the Pogues.

Drinks were passed around, JJ opening Bea's for her, sharing cheers in the hope of a summer free from Agatha and responsibilities. From the day they were able, all the Pogues worked; summer was the chance to be normal teenagers for once.

As they cruised the inlets of Kildare, Bea was more than happy to lounge around in her bikini and tan while the boys and Kie fucked around. Occasionally JJ would take a break from swimming and causing chaos, coming to lay out in the sun on Bea's towel with her.

It was a perfect day, if there ever was one.

Bea never expected to ever be so happy in her life, not after her near-death experience some seven years before. After her father, the thought of life was abstract, something Bea would dream about when things got too bleak. But the knowledge that she was living, not just surviving, but enjoying her life, made every day all the sweeter.

Pope took over driving, the friends passing around more drinks and laughs.

"Let me show you a party trick!"

Knowing exactly what JJ planned on doing, Bea moved away from her usual spot on the front of the boat closer towards Pope, "Oh, this is gonna be good."

"Pope, can you go a little faster, please?" JJ asked as he mounted the bow, beer bottle in hand, and a look on his face that promised trouble.

Bea watched as John B followed her example, moving towards the back of the boat. She was tempted to do the same. But as safe as she felt with her friends, Bea still wasn't a fan of moving around too much while the boat was moving. So instead, she wrapped her towel around her hair, covering it from the beer she knew JJ would spill.

"It doesn't work," John B muttered, "we've tried this like 6,000 times."

"I've got this!" JJ smiled widely, "It's gonna work!"

"Baby, all you're gonna do is get beer everywhere," Bea warned him, but the sight of a carefree JJ, happy and energetic, softened any seriousness in her words.

Facing away from his friends, Bea watched as JJ raised the beer bottle in front and away from his lips. But, of course, when he went to pour the drink, it flew everywhere but JJ's mouth.

Just like it had every time before.

Bea was glad for her quick thinking as Kie shrieked at JJ, her hair and body covered in the beer that missed its mark. Even John B got splashed. Despite their annoyance, the laughter at JJ's failure was uncontrollable.

Until the boat lurched violently, sending everyone in the HMS Pogue flying and JJ soaring off the front.

Her own possible injuries were forgotten; Bea jumped up from the floor of the skiff and nearly hurled herself over the edge, "JJ! Oh my god, JJ!"

Bea searched the water as best as she could, wishing for once she had the bravery to jump in and swim on her own. She would never forgive herself if something happened, and her fears stopped her from saving someone, especially JJ.

The sight of JJ floating to the surface, groaning but without any apparent injury, calmed Bea's racing heart; what she wouldn't give to pull him from the water and wrap him up in her arms, checking every inch for the slightest of scratches.

"I think my heels touched the back of my head," JJ moaned in pain, his joking tone earning a shaky laugh from Bea.

Every one of the Pogues was feeling the aftermath of the crash. With her worry for JJ fading, Bea's body began to ache. Her shoulder, which took the brunt of the impact, was throbbing, and all the air felt like it had been knocked out of her lungs.

JJ made his way back to the boat, "Pope, what did you do?"

"Sandbar," Pope answered, he was shaking with anxiety and adrenaline, "the channel changed."

"No shit," JJ snarked.

"Fucking Agatha," Bea groaned, keeping a careful eye on JJ with each stroke through the water.

"Hey, I saved the beer, though."

"Congrats, JJ."

"Guys," Pope called to his friends, "I think there's a boat down there."

A boat?

Sharing looks of disbelief, the Pogues voiced their disagreement.

"Shut up."

"No way."

"No, no, guys, I'm serious," Pope insisted, pointing at the same spot where the HMS Pogue had hit a sandbar, "there's a boat down there for real."

He was right.

Just beneath the surface, Bea could make out a white and prominent silhouette of a boat, easy to see if you looked hard enough. Bea watched as her friends jumped in the water, swimming below to investigate. Each second they were gone, grated at her nerves, she knew they were good swimmers, but that did little to lessen her anxiety. Of course, it didn't help that Pope had decided to mention dead bodies right before they all jumped in.

"You guys saw that, right?" JJ yelled in excitement between gasps for air.

"What did you find?" Beas asked anxiously, leaning over the bow to look at her friends.

"That's a Grady-White," JJ exclaimed as an answer, smiling and laughing alongside the rest of the Pogues.

The joy was infectious. Even Bea, who didn't see the sunken boat, was laughing wildly with her friends.

"A new one of those is like 500 G's, easy," Out of habit, Bea grabbed her towel for JJ to dry himself with, "that's a primo rig!"

"That's the boat I saw when I surfed the surge," John B looked between his friends, everyone back on the boat and trying to digest what they had found.

So they really did go, and JJ stayed behind.

"You surfed the surge?"

JJ ignored Kie's concern, instead moving to congratulate his best friend, "That's my boy, Pogue style!"

Their focus shifted again back to the boat, and John B began to dig through the hull, leaving Pope to ask a critical question, "Wait, do we know whose boat that is?"

"Maybe they're offering a reward for finding it," Bea piped up.

"Well, we're about to find out," the idiot planned on diving down. Bea wasn't surprised. John B never had any good ideas.

"Dude, it's too deep."

"Oh, for the weak and feeble, JJ," John B trapped the anchor and chain, untangling it in preparation.

"Ooh, big words, John B," Bea teased, getting a small smile from the boy in return.

"Well, I'm not resuscitating you," JJ used Bea's towel to dry his soaking hair, "I'm just making that clear up front."

"Don't worry, I think someone else will be willing to give him mouth-to-mouth," Bea giggled, Kie giving her a shove at Bea's not-so-subtle joke.

Unamused and unaffected by her friend's levity, Kie looked to the boy in front of her, "John B-"

Any concern went unvoiced as JJ unceremoniously shoved him and the anchor into the water.

The Pogues above the water stood tensely over the surface, watching with bated breath for their friend and leader to come up for air. JJ looked ready to jump in, and Bea didn't doubt that he would if John B took too long. It wouldn't have been the first time he saved someone from drowning.

"Should we get him?" Pope asked as half a minute passed them by.

"Don't look at me," Bea shrugged at her friend, "I can't swim."

His words seemed to call John B up to the surface, coughing for breath but not looking too worse for wear.

"Oh my god, that took forever," Kie whined, and Bea had to agree.

"Any dead bodies?"

"Really, Pope?" Bea raised an eyebrow at the death-obsessed boy.

"Looting potential?"

Still regaining his breath, John B raised his hand with something clutched inside, "No, but I found this motel key."

"A key?" Pope's voice dropped, disappointed at the mundane discovery.

"Yes, a key, Pope," the boat tipped from John B's weight as he pulled himself out of the water. Bea gripped at the sides, a needle of anxiety piercing her heart.

"Great!" JJ exclaimed, no shortage of sarcasm in his voice, "We salvaged a motel key."

"Better than a dead body," Bea muttered darkly, Kie nodding in agreement.

With everyone once again back on the boat, a mysterious motel key in hand, the HMS Pogue took off once again. The conversation shifted from drinking and joking to the discussion of what exactly they were going to do with the information they had uncovered.

"Guys, we should report the wreck to the coast guard," Kie advised, voice serious, unlike the rest of her friends, "maybe we'll get a finders fee."

"Yeah," JJ laughed, "and not work all summer. Thanks, Agatha, ya batch."

"Better than babysitting a bunch of Kook kids," if Bea could avoid dealing with the holier-than-though parents she worked for, she would be more than happy.

With the thought of a reward and summer free from work in mind, it was agreed among the Pogues first to try and talk to the coast guard. But, of course, they weren't so lucky. The overwhelmed worker had no time nor inclination to listen to the report of the teenagers.

Bea even heard someone say something about canine diabetes?

Whatever it was, he clearly had his hands full.

In typical Pogue style, the possibility of finding something outweighed their better judgment (aka Pope's better judgment). Bea was starting to feel like they were on a treasure hunt, like the Goonies searching for One-Eyed Willie.

It was one of her favorite movies, one she forced JJ to watch on my late nights cuddled in her room.

But the sight of the motel was much less exciting than anything from The Goonies, slightly disappointing in Bea's opinion.

JJ whistled as The Summer Wind came into view, "I thought The Chateau looked bad."

"It does look bad," Bea jumped in, "this place just looks worse."

The motel clearly hadn't been a five-star joint beforehand, but Agatha only made that fact ten times clearer. A sign which boasted the motel's name had been knocked over during the night and tarps were draped across the roof to prevent leaking. Bea stared at the mattresses left out to dry, towels hanging from the balcony as if it might save them for future use.

"This place is a shitshow."

"Motel or meth lab?" Kie asked.

"You be the judge," Pope sounded like he was leaning toward meth lab. At least, that's how Bea felt.

"Doesn't look like a place somebody with a Grady-White would stay."

Not exactly the most difficult observation to make, but there was a reason Bea referred to John B as her precious little idiot.

"No," Pope agreed, "it looks like the place somebody with a Grady-White would get killed."

"Maybe they did," he looked ready to jump off the boat at Bea's words.

Bea held tight as JJ tied off the bat, securing to land, "We good?"

"Yeah, we good," JJ confirmed, getting antsier and antsier to explore the wrecked motel.

John B made his way to disembark the skiff. He and JJ, the only two brave or stupid enough to follow the lead they had, "All right, here goes nothing."

"Hey," Pope called before they could leave, "don't let him do anything stupid."

Bea glared at Pope, shoving him in the shoulder for directing his words only at JJ, "Why don't the both of you avoid being idiots? I know it may be hard."

"Oh, we will."

John B didn't work too hard to convince Pope, "I'm not making promises."

"Yeah, I know," Pope sighed, resigned with the knowledge that it was impossible to stop John B and JJ from being raging dumbasses.

"Uh, be careful," Kie handed the key over, their hands brushing, "I mean it."

Bea and co watched as their two friends made the trip up the winding stairs of the motel, hoping that things would go their way.

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"Why are all these mattresses out here?"

"After a hurricane, they have to ditch 'em 'cause they're all moldy," JJ answered before turning his attention to something much more fun. "Just be so careful, John B," he moaned, gripping at his friends in a way he knew would get on his nerves.

"God, you're so weird."

"What the heck was that about?" JJ pushed harder, intent on figuring out what was happening between his best friend and Kiara.

"I don't know," John B answered, voice defensive at J's prodding, "maybe she wants us to be careful."

"Since she's heard you're being threatened with exile, she's just been like," he rattled on, slipping back into the breathy imitation of Kiara that would get him slapped upside the head, "oh, be so careful, John B. Just give me that John D already! Lik,e when are you gonna swoop on that man?"

"Br,o you know the rule, no Pogue-on-Pogue macking," John B deflected, growing tired of JJ's torment.

"Like anyone takes that seriously," JJ's eyes rolled, "C'mon, she's into you, man."

"I'm not like you and Bea, dude," John B shot back.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"O c'mon," JJ had to be fucking with him, "you two are constantly making heart eyes at each other."

At least JJ blushed at his words, "I mean, yeah, but it's just a little fun, man."

"Bullshit," John B stopped JJ in his tracks, "you're so whipped, and you know it. I'm surprised you two aren't married already."

"I am not whip-"

"Don't even start," the two continued to the last motel room on the row, "you two are so in love I wanna vomit most of the time."

"Bea doesn't love me," JJ muttered, eyes downcast, before changing the subject like an expert, "and besides, we were talking about you and Kie."

"There is no me and Kie," he denied.

"She's a super hot, rich, hippie chick slumming it with us," JJ shook his shoulders, tugging and pulling at John B as if that would make his point for him, "I don't know why, but she clearly has a thing for you. I'm telling you, dude. You gotta do something."

John B was saved from any more of JJ's goading. Room 29 was before them, surprisingly closed despite all the other rooms being open for cleaning.

"This is it."

JJ knocked at the door in a rapid melody, singing in his highest voice, "Housekeeping!"

No response.

If there was someone inside, it meant they were either drunk or dead. Both would mean the Pogues could get in and out without being detected.

"Should we try it?" John B began to push the key into the keyhole.

"Yeah," JJ looked around, surveying the scene, "no power, no security cameras, no one's gonna know."

The door opened with a creak, wood soaked from the torrent of rainfall, but behind it revealed a shockingly regular motel room: no dead bodies or piles of drugs. JJ and John B couldn't see anything particularly incriminating.

Together they searched the room, talking idly about the mundane objects they found. Clothes, shoes, and scraps of paper, nothing hinted at the identity of whoever owned the Grady-White.

With his flashlight in hand, JJ called John B to the bedside table covered in paper maps, "Yo, dude, come here. Maybe this is where they were fishing."

"Let me see."

"Right there," he pointed towards a marked spot on the map.

"No," John B sighed, "that's off the continental shelf. That's Big Swell. Nobody fishes there."

The map offered no leads, and the boys continued their search elsewhere. JJ made his way to the bathroom; John B found the motel safe hidden in a cabinet. As JJ slipped a stolen deodorant into his pants pockets, his friend worked on opening the safe.

Outside, the feeling was much the same, boredom.

Bea listened as Kie went on about the environment, a small disagreement breaking out between her and Pope. But that was typical; they were by far the smartest of the group, and Kie stuck to her opinions like glue.

A familiar truck pulled into the driveway, blue and white with the word Sheriff emblazoned across the sides.

"Uh, can you two stop talking for a minute," Bea interrupted, "we have company."

Her friends followed the nod of Bea's head, each of them realizing what deep shit they were all officially in, especially if they got caught.

"Call them," Pope urged as the three sat low in the boat.

"I can't; towers are down."

"Well, we gotta warn 'em somehow," Bea led them through the tall grass in the direction of the room's window.

"If I lose my merit scholarship, I'm gonna kill someone!"

"Worse comes to worse," Bea placed a comforting hand on Pope's shoulder, "we distract them, and you run."

"That somehow doesn't make me feel any better," Bea shrugged in response, "maybe they're not going up there. Maybe he's just looking for a room-"

"He's pointing!" Kie hissed as the two cops were sent in the direction of John B and JJ's current location.

"We have the best luck!"

"Sarcasm not helping, Bea," Pope scowled as he ran closer to the motel, the two girls trailing behind.

They had to think fast. If the cops caught either JJ or John B, everything would be over. Not for the first time that day, Bea could feel her anxiety clawing its way up her throat. John B would be sent to the DCS, and JJ would have God knows  what would happen to him. Bea knew his dad would be pissed, which would only leave JJ hurting.

Bea and Kie watched as Pope grabbed a small rock, urging them to stand back before sending it flying in the direction of the window. If the situation were less dire, Bea would've curled over laughing at the sight of the rock landing two feet away from Pope.

"Didn't you ever play baseball?"

"I was on the math team!" Pope defended, sounding more than slightly offended at Kiara's question.

"A mathlete?" Kiara's rock went farther but still missed its mark.

"Shut up, you two!" Bea whisper-shouted, grabbing a pebble of her own and hitting the window with as much accuracy as she could muster.

It was enough to get their attention; John B poked his head through the blinds, looking at his friends as they motioned and mouthed a warning to get the hell out of there.

Bea wanted to stay beneath the window, waiting and watching to ensure the two boys were okay, but Kiara grabbed her hand and pulled Bea back to the HMS Pogue. They jumped in, Bea turning her head back and forth to watch the window, trying to look as calm as possible while being prepared to bolt should they need to.

"Should we peel?" Kie asked from behind the wheel. Bea's attention was too glued to get mad at Kiara's question.

"You never leave a Pogue behind," Pope answered for her, his eyes watching the same spot as Bea.

The motel window slid open, white blinds flapping as two figures crawled out of the room and onto the ledge. JJ and John B stood as still as possible, pressing themselves face-first into the wall as if they might turn into the white bricks in front of them.

"No, seriously," Kie repeated, "should we peel?"

"Maybe," Bea glared at Pope.

"Shoupe is an idiot. He ain't going to find them," Bea looked between her two friends, glaring at them as best she could despite the anxiety that was overcoming her senses.

"What are you guys doing?" Pope mouthed, hands raised in confusion and frustration at their plan to avoid detection.

While John B had the wherewithal to look nervous, JJ's face was pulled into a cheeky smile that always came before he did something mischievous.

"Oh my god," Kie groaned, dropping her face into her cradled hands.

Their friends gestured for them to shut up, and Bea could see JJ struggling not to laugh as he and John B faced the motel wall. They watched whatever was happening in the room, eyes peeking through the blinds. Bea was confident for a split second until something went flying out of JJ's hands, hitting the room before falling onto the ground with a metallic thud.

The blinds flew open, Shoupe's face clear even through the dirty glass.

"Idiots," Bea hissed, following Pope and Kie as they looked away from the room in a rush. If Shoupe caught them there, it would only make him more suspicious. But he either ignored them or didn't put too much thought behind their appearance at the motel, exiting the room with an office and duffle bag in hand.

With the room free of any police, JJ and John B maneuvered themselves back into the room and then out of the motel before any staff could spot them. They ran back to the HMS Pogue, Bea spotting JJ as he picked up whatever had dropped during their escapades. Once back to the boat, the boys pushed off from the land, out of breath and panting.

The close call made them all anxious; even the typically cool JJ was slightly jumpy. Bea could see the anxiety in his bouncing leg and inability to sit still, even while on the water. Her own feelings of stress had begun to fade, but not enough to still the rapid tattoo her heart was beating upon her chest.

It was silently agreed that once they were free of the motel, only then would they talk about what had transpired.

"Well, that was fun," JJ chuckled once they were in sight of the harbor, "could've warned us a little sooner."

'We would have, except Pope was on the math team," Kie snarked, irritating Bea since she also hadn't been able to throw the stone on her first try.

"And what's your excuse?" Bea asked, eyes judging the teenager across from her.

The tension between the two was interrupted by John B, "You were on the math team?"

Pope was maybe the only one of his friends not interested in their close escape, instead worried about why Shoupe was even there at all, "The cops took everything like it was a crime scene. Did you guys find anything?"

The Louisianan watched as JJ, who made a spot for himself lounging beside her on the bow, rose from his supine position, "Did we find anything?" he asked, reaching into his pants and grabbing at something that Bea could barely make out, "No, I don't think so. Oh, yeah, we did."

In one hand was a bundle of money, and in the other a gun. As soon as the weapon popped into sight, Bea grabbed his wrist, "Put that thing down!"

"What the hell?"

"Dude, what?" Kie and Pope clearly felt the same as Bea, her anxiety skyrocketing for the second time that day, her stomach simultaneously dropping as JJ held onto the sleek black weapon.

Bea trusted him with her life, JJ didn't have it in him to hurt anyone on purpose, but something so deadly left a bitter taste in her mouth. She wasn't a fan of guns. Bea knew her mother kept a gun in the house, but that was for the purpose of pure necessity and nothing else. They scared her, knowing that with one little pull, a life could be taken.

JJ looked between his friends, trying to calm them as he lowered the stolen gun, "Dude, chill, c'mon."

"Why would you take that from a crime scene?" The typically logical and cool-headed Pope had begun to lose it, his mind racing to every bad scenario that having the gun could get them in. Bea bet that he was wishing he had chosen to spend the day working with his father instead.

"It's better than the cops having it," JJ reasoned, still trying to calm the freaking out Pope.

"Unless it's a murder weapon, JJ," Bea's tone softened, knowing she would get nowhere with him if her emotions and voice were as heated as she felt.

"I'm going to lose my merit scholarship," Pope began to hyperventilate, breathing heavier and heavier.

JJ was no help, "Hey, hey, hey, at least you have us, right?", he cooed with the gun pointing upwards to the sky in front of Pope.

Pope pulled away from the blond, still wrapped in his world of worry, "I'm living the nightmare."

"Let's just take a deep breath," Bea directed to Pope and the rest of the Pogues, "no one knows we got the gun, meaning we can just wipe it down and send it in anonymously."

"No way!" JJ cried, looking offended at the prospect of losing his newest toy, "Please, Bea, can I keep it just for a little bit?"

Damn puppy dog eyes.

Bea could feel her resolve dissipating. Even John B was giving her a soft and begging look, "Fine. But only until we know what's going on, and until then, you keep it hidden."

His smile was enough to tell Bea she made the right decision. If she'd feel the same later was unknown. But for the moment, as the Pogue's disembarked their skiff, things felt calm once again.

Of course, it seemed to be the day of neverending chaos. As soon as they stepped foot on the ancient wooden dock, the Pogue's were met with the sight of an unmoving body strapped to a gurney, rolling away as a sobbing woman followed close behind.

JJ saw as Bea's face paled, grabbed her hand, and intertwined their fingers in a warm embrace. Any care about being seen was ignored, JJ's need to comfort Bea overcoming everything else.

"Who's that?"

"It's Scooter Grubbs," a young girl answered, sitting calmly on a crate, "he was out during the storm. Check out this pic I got, dead body!"

She sounded way too excited about a dead person to Bea, "You have problems."

Kie nodded up at her, but the young girl ignored Bea's words, instead going back to ogle at the pictures on her phone.

JJ gave her hand a comforting squeeze, reminding Bea that he was there and it would all be okay. She was thankful for it and his ability to read her body language. Just one stray look from Bea told JJ everything he needed to know about what she was feeling. At that moment, he knew she needed his presence, warm and comforting in the face of something as cold as death.

"Holy shit," John B cursed softly, people died on Kildare all the time, but this almost felt different to the Pogues.

"What kind of boat did he have?" JJ gripped at Bea's hand again, knowing she was struggling to tamper down her frustration at the young girl.

"Somehow, that dirtbag copped a brand new Grady-White," she said breezily, as if it was just another day, "everyone's out looking for it."

Gazes clashed, each of the Pogues knowing exactly whose Grady-White they had uncovered, and that Scooter Grubbs had been into something shady.

Bea leaned in closer to JJ, not liking the thought of whatever Scooter had been into coming back to bite the Pogues in the ass. Whatever it was must have been terrible for him to afford such a nice boat and have a motel safe filled with cash and a gun.

And now Scooter's dead. What does money matter when you're six feet in the ground?

The impulse to keep digging into the mystery was strong, but Bea didn't want herself or her friends to end up like Scooter Grubbs. They had stumbled upon something that was only becoming more interesting with each step.

With Scooter's body being carted away, the Pogues quickly reboarded their boat and made a b-line for The Chateau.

"So, um," Pope panted after docking the HMS Pogue, "we didn't see anything. We don't know anything, we need to have total and complete amnesia." Each word was said with an air of finality and panic, pointing to the Pogues one by one before sitting down next to Kie.

"Actually," Bea looked to JJ, who had claimed a chair beside her, as he spoke, "Pope's right for once." He stood, the charismatic voice Bea loved so much in full effect, "See, I agree with you sometimes. Deny, deny, deny."

"Guys, we can't keep that money," Kie interrupted, always the voice of conscience but for once in disagreement with the rest of her friends.

"That money could make a big difference for some of us, Kie," Bea spared a glance in Kiara's direction, not looking to start a fight but not willing to entertain her opinion as someone who didn't have to worry about where their next paycheck would come from. She loved Kiara, but sometimes she got a little too high and mighty, in Bea's opinion.

"Yeah," JJ agreed, he and Bea on the same page, "not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara."

"We have to pass that off to Lana Grubbs," she continued, "otherwise it's bad karma."

"Karma, bad or otherwise, doesn't pay the bills," Bea huffed, picking at the corners of her nails as a distraction.

Pope sent her a sidelong look, "Bad karma to be implicated in a felony, too. We gotta go dark."

Maybe Pope has a point.

"If that means we get to keep the money, then I agree."

John B, who had been silent for the entire exchange, gave JJ a quick pat on the shoulder as he pushed off the wall, "I don't agree."

"What? Why?" Eyes wide and mouth pulled in a line of surprise, JJ looked shocked at his best friend's stance on the money matter.

"Just think about it," Bea thought he was going to start raving some conspiracy theory with the way he was acting, "this is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about. Same dude that's buying individual cigarettes at The Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas. We're talking about a dirtbag marina rat who's never had more than 40 bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden, he's got a Grady-White? Just sayin'."

Brown eyes met blue, JJ and Bea silently agreeing to the theory John B had concocted. Kie was leaning towards agreement, but as per usual, Pope needed more convincing.

Their friend stood from his seat on the covered couch, the rest of the Pogue's following as he silently made his way to the dock.

"You guys are crazy!" Pope called from in front of them, ignoring his friends as he grabbed a rod and reel, casting it out into the water behind The Chateau.

"All right, so think about it, Pope," John B perched himself precariously on the railing, "how does a marina rat get a Grady-White?"

Inhaling sharply, Pope began to reel in the line, "Prostitution."

"Yeah, I don't think anyone was buying what Scooter was selling," Bea quipped, JJ failing to hold back a chuckle from just behind her.

"Square groupers, bro!" John B said as if it was the most obvious answer, "Okay, flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don't do that stuff during a hurricane." He listed each one off, trying to make a logical argument for Pope's sake, "What does that mean? JJ?"

"They were straight smugglin'."

"Smugglin'. And I guarantee there's a serious amount of contraband in that wreck."

"Hell yeah," JJ agreed, almost immediately distracted by the whir of his line, a fish tugging viciously at the other end, "Fish on!"

The Pogues could see Pope's inhibitions falling, he started to look more and more intrigued, John B's words apparently smart enough to change his cautious stance.

"For the record," Pope began, the crew had moved to lounge in John B's room, "if that is a smuggling ship with illegal contraband on the inside of it, it probably belongs to someone else."

"Minor detail," Kie added, strumming mindlessly at the ukelele on her lap.

"They could come looking for it; taking it would be catastrophically stupid."

"Right," JJ grabbed the wad of cash in Pope's hands, repositioning Bea, who had her feet resting on his legs, "well, stupid things have good outcomes all the time. All we need to do right now is figure out a way to get into the cargo hold of that wreck."

Bea looked at him, a brow raised in question, "And until then?"

"We just lay low, act normal."

"And how exactly do we do that?" Pope asked, looking for answers in the faces of his friends, not used to being the one not in charge of such plans.

"Kegger?"

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The Boneyard was filled to the brim with drunk teenagers, every group was represented on the abandoned beach, all partying in relative peace.

After the stress of the day, Bea was more than glad to indulge in a little underage drinking.

Typically she avoided getting too drunk, as it made her feel woozy and out of control, but that night it was a welcome reprieve; especially since JJ stayed by her side the entire time. Bea knew she'd be just fine no matter how drunk she got.

A red solo cup in hand, Bea was swaying to the music playing over her speaker, digging her toes into the sand. After a couple of hours of dancing and mingling, she separated herself from the party, observing the joy from a distance. The salty ocean breeze was sobering. It felt good to be away from the mass of bodies, that, mingling with the hot Carolina air, made it easy to get overheated.

"Watcha doing, Bumblebee?" JJ sidled up to her, smelling of woodsmoke and beer.

Bea, too drunk to contain herself, released a high-pitched giggle before nearly throwing herself into JJ's arms.

"Just watchin'," she slurred, balancing her cup over his shoulder.

"Watching what?" JJ asked, enjoying the sight of a drunk Bea. It was always fun.

"You."

"Ms.Broussard," JJ gasped, still keeping Bea steady in his arms, "are you flirting with me?"

"Maybe," she teased, " you're pretty, JJ, do you know that?"

"I think you're prettier," JJ stifled a laugh, sober enough to know that Bea wouldn't be feeling too good come the morning.

"Such a flirt," she stammered out, patting him on the chest before taking another gulp of her beer and sauntering off.

Probably looking for something to dance on, JJ recalled the last time Bea had been that drunk, she spent an hour on top of the dining room table at The Chataeu, dancing. That had been some party, especially since it was left to JJ to convince Bea to get down.

JJ chased her down, slipping the cup from her hand and holding it high above her head, "Maybe we should slow down with that."

"Hey!" Bea protested, jumping up and down in hopes of reaching the drink, "We are not doing anything of the sort."

He leaned forward, kissing Bea tenderly on the lips, "You'll thank me tomorrow."

The beer was forgotten as they lost themselves in their intoxication for each other, JJ dropping the red plastic cup so he could wrap both arms around Bea. She did the same, running her fingers through his shaggy blond hair, holding them tightly at the back of his head.

JJ pulled away first, enjoying the sensation of Bea's hands in his hair and hearing her pant for breath as the kiss broke. His hands moved up from her waist, cupping the softly rounded skin of her cheeks, "Let's get back to the party, Bumblebee."

Bea's red lips pulled into a pout, not happy about JJ stopping their heated moment, but she would be grateful when she sobered up. JJ knew well enough that Bea hated doing anything when she was drunk. It left her feeling like a decision had been taken from her.

So, as much as he wished to spirit her away from prying eyes, finding a quiet spot on the beach beneath the stars, JJ wrapped her under his arm and directed them back to the party.

JJ listened with amusement as she sang along to the song playing over her speaker, swaying and bumping into him with each unsteady step.

She was gorgeous, eyes half-lidded and face calm in her inebriation. In the light of the moon, Bea's hair, which she had let down in loose waves before the party, glowed like silver and gold. Every inch of her was like a rainbow, effervescent and perfect.

He led her back towards the keg so she could sit down and grab some waters Kie had stashed nearby. Once she had some liquids other than beer and was able to rest, Bea would be much happier. The hangover would also be a lot less miserable.

They managed to make it through the sand without incident and with only the occasional stumble; JJ kept his arm securely in place, adjusting to keep Bea upright. Before they could make it all the way to the keg, JJ spotted Kie on a log before the bonfire. Slipping between people, trying to keep Bea from eating shit in the sand, JJ managed to set her down beside the Carrera girl.

"Kie!" Bea shouted as soon as JJ helped her sit down, bringing her friend into an unexpected hug, "I love you so, so, so, so, so much, even if I am a bitch."

"How much have you had to drink?" Kiara's eyebrows furrowed deeply at Bea before turning her attention to JJ, "Is she okay?"

"I'm just happy!" the drunk girl exclaimed, resting her head on Kiara's shoulder.

"She'll be fine once she has some water," JJ corrected, "do you have any?"

Kie nodded, rummaging through her backpack and pulling out a heavy metal water bottle.

Between the two of them, JJ and Kie were able to convince their very drunk friend to take larger and larger sips. While she still tipped here and there, JJ could see the haze clearing in her eyes and her body returning to normal.

"I can watch her," Kie whispered to JJ, motioning to John B, "you should have some fun too."

JJ wanted to say that he didn't mind caring for Bea. He would take watching her over a party any day. But saying that to Kie meant saying it to Bea, who, despite her drunken state, would most definitely remember such words.

So, after making sure that Bea was okay to stay with their friend, JJ slipped off to the keg and his other friends.

With each sip of water and bite of food, Kie had stashed away some snacks from earlier, and Bea felt the alcohol lessening its power over her. She wasn't completely sober, not at all, but she felt less inclined to hug everybody and start dancing on any flat surface in sight.

It was a small mercy that JJ had stayed by her side, keeping Bea from doing anything too embarrassing.

Sat in front of the fire with Kie, Bea felt the pull of sleep that always followed too much drinking. She was warm and Kie's shoulder was surprisingly comfortable. Even surrounded by the sounds of partying, Bea could have easily fallen into a deep sleep.

"Dirty Pogues!"

Kie shot up like a firework, jumping free from Bea's hold and running towards the sound of yelling. Bea was much slower and clumsier, her legs not working as well as usual, but she managed to follow her friend just in time to see Topper throw a punch right at John B's face.

"Chill!" Kiara urged, watching as JJ and Pope struggled with each other.

Her mind was less foggy, the severity of what was going on sobering up Bea faster than any amount of food or water. Bea turned her attention to JJ. Bea grabbed him, pulling him away from the fight and whispering in his ear, calling for him to calm down and assuring him that John B would be fine.

Bea wasn't sure if she believed herself, but the last thing they needed was a full-on brawl between the Kooks and the Pogues. If JJ were to join in, everyone else would follow.

"Hey, John B," Topper taunted, staring down at the Pogue drenched in seawater, "don't make me drown you like your old man, all right?"

With the crowd chanting and Topper's jeering, something came over Bea's friend. He tackled the Kook, and a fight begin with renewed anger.

They rolled in the water, ignoring the rush of small waves as they threw punch after punch. Neither Topper nor John B heard as their friends called to them, some begging for them to stop and others encouraging the violence.

Bea wasn't sure what she wanted.

Topper had made a low blow with the comment about Big John and a part of her wanted nothing more than to see her friend kick the Kook's ass. But if her mother was there, she would definitely tell her daughter that violence was never the answer, and for that, Bea was mostly inclined to agree.

Said friend seemed to be winning the impromptu fight, grabbing Topper by the waist and flinging him into the water and sand, "Come on, Topper! Let's go! Come on!"

But his victory was short-lived. The Kook got up, shoving John B into the water and holding his head beneath the wash.

Bea could feel her own throat beginning to close, her lungs and chest compressing at the sight of John B struggling to breathe. It was so familiar and so haunting. She could handle the occasional teenage fight, being friends with her hotheaded boys meant they were fairly common, but witnessing Topper drown John B sent her spiraling. Hands shaking with the onslaught of memories, Bea grasped at JJ, trying to find his hand and his stability among the chaos.

At the feeling of Bea clinging to him, JJ looked to see her entire body shaking, skin pale and colorless.

He had to do something.

JJ couldn't stand by as his friend drowned, and Bea was pulled into a nightmare that she could never escape. His mind raced; options and decisions he didn't have time to think about flew by. It settled on something that resided in the bottom of his backpack. Something that he said he wouldn't use, a tactic his own father had taken advantage of many times.

But to save John B?

To stop Bea's torture?

Screw it.

"Yeah, you know what that is," JJ sneered, the gun with its safety off pressed firmly onto the back of Topper's head, "your move, broski."

With the realization of what was going on, Bea came back to life, the fear and alcohol making her stomach churn. But the sight of JJ with a gun, holding it to Topper's head, made her certain that everything would come back up in a fit of sickness.

Shouts of his name rang out, the Pogues and Sarah Cameron yelling above the chaos.

"Stop, JJ! Put the gun down!"

"Did you say something, princess?" the gun didn't move, even as Topper rose from the ground and tried his best to calm the situation.

"Kie!" Sarah screamed, "Can you check your psycho friend, please?"

Anger bloomed in Bea, "What about your crazy fucking boyfriend, huh?"

"Okay, everyone, listen up," JJ stepped away from Topper, holding the gun straight in the sky, "get the hell off our side of the island!"

Two shots were fired, ringing out among the screams of the crowd.

Pope and Kie were the first to react, shoving at JJ and yelling in fear and anger.

"I'm saving his life, okay?" JJ defended, shoving back Pope and turning his attention to John B, who sat numbly in the water.

The anger that had directed itself at Sarah faded away as quickly as it came, replaced by bone-deep exhaustion. It was always the same when her fears came back so rapidly, the fight or flight response sucking away every inch of energy from within Bea. The drinking from before didn't make it any easier, she just wanted to curl up right there on the beach and forget all that had happened.

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Neither JJ nor Bea spoke during the car ride home.

After getting back to The Chateau, none of the Pogues spoke more than two or three words, angry at JJ and still reeling from the chaos of the day.

Bea handed JJ her car keys, wordlessly telling him where he'd be spending the night.

It was a short drive to the familiar Broussard home, but to JJ, it felt like the longest drive of his life. Bea didn't say a word, instead just staring out into the darkness, her head pressed to the cool glass of the window.

In all honesty, JJ was surprised she even let him go home with her.

JJ believed in what he did. Pulling the gun was his only option to save John B and no one else was planning to interfere. Not to mention the sight of a terrified Bea sent him into a tailspin. But as much as he could explain it to himself, JJ knew that Bea wouldn't agree. If she did, then the ride home wouldn't have been filled with awkward silence as they drove down the dark backroads of Kiladre.

As JJ pulled into the driveway, turning off the ignition, Bea let out a heavy sigh. He watched as she slipped from the passenger seat, looking more tired than he'd ever seen her.

"Bea," he called, "ar-are you mad at me?"

He felt stupid for even asking, but in the dark of the night with nothing but Bea and the marsh bugs for company, it felt a little safer. JJ also knew that Bea would never and could never harm him in her anger, not like his father.

"Am I mad?" she asked, turning around to face him with an incredulous stare on her face, "I am furious, JJ."

"Bea-"

"No, listen to me," he could see the frustration and exhaustion clear on her face. It had been a long night for her and there he was making it worse. JJ felt like a piece of shit, he deserved whatever words Bea would send his way, "I don't understand you, JJ. You're reckless and wild, and it isn't always bad. But tonight? Tonight you threatened someone with a gun-"

"That asshole was gonna kill John B!" His voice rose an octave, but he kept a careful distance from her, knowing that Bea was also scarred by a father's anger.

"I know," her voice softened ever so slightly, "but a gun, JJ? What if it had gone off or-or Topper had gotten a hold of it?"

"But he didn't, Bea," JJ tried to soothe her, wanting the worried dent between her brows to smooth out like it did when she was happy and calm.

"That doesn't make it any better," Bea dropped her head into cradled hands, JJ's heart wrenching at the sight, "JJ, you act like your life isn't worth anything."

JJ recoiled, stung by her words and how hard they hit him, "The hell does that mean?"

"Your recklessness, pulling a gun on Topper, all of it," Bea explained, eyes pleading for him to listen, "you do all this crazy shit and it's like you don't care about what happens to you!"

What could JJ say to answer that?

He wanted to admit it, spill his heart to her and share everything that his father had struck him with in drunken anger. All the insecurities and feeling of worthlessness that Luke Maybank had impressed onto his son, which JJ felt like he would never be able to shake off.

But Bea looked so tired; even in the dark, JJ could see purple bags beneath her eyes, and he couldn't bring himself to weigh her down with any more of his shit.

At his silence, Bea turned away, "Maybe you should sleep on the couch tonight."

Those were her last words before she walked up the stairs, pulled open the door, and went to bed, leaving JJ alone.

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Despite the exhaustion that permeated every cell of her body, Bea could not find it in herself to sleep.

She had tried every trick in the insomniac's handbook; showering, trying to read a book, hell, even yoga, but nothing worked. For two hours, Bea rolled around in her bed, moving pillows and blankets, and flipping sides, but nothing worked.

And she knew exactly why.

Telling JJ off and then leaving him alone had perhaps been the worst thing Bea could have done. She knew better than anyone how easy it was for JJ to be sent over the emotional edge, and she had just abandoned him.

Bea knew her anger had been justified, but not the expression of it.

That's why, as dawn approached, Bea slipped out of her bed with damp hair and ratty pajamas, and made her way to the living room.

She was scared the closer she got, and after her words, JJ left. Bea decided, as she descended the stairs, that if JJ wasn't there, she would get in her mom's truck and drive around Kildare to find him. Even if he had gone back to his dad's, Bea would bust open the door to make sure he was safe.

But it wouldn't be necessary.

Even with all the lights off, Bea could see a figure laying across the couch cushions. She released a soft sigh; at least JJ hadn't run off. He was safe in her house, even if she had hurt him unintentionally.

As Bea rounded the corner, JJ's eyes perked up. They were rimmed red, and bloodshot from tears and the evening drinking.

He hadn't been sleeping either.

"Bea?" he asked, voice tender and confused.

"Scoot over," she whispered, gently pushing him closer to the back of the couch and sliding beneath the blanket next to him. It was a tight fit, but they were like missing puzzle pieces, made to fit together even in the tightest of situations. Despite the terms of their parting, JJ naturally wrapped his arms around her while Bea rested her head above his heart.

The stroke of his hand on her arm and the beating of his heart were enough to encourage Bea to find her voice, "I'm sorry, JJ."

"No, Bea-"

Her head rose from its resting place, brow eyes boring into electric blue, "I wasn't actually angry, just scared."

The words gave JJ pause, his planned apology forgotten, "Scared?"

"When you do stuff like that, JJ, all I can think of is wh-what if I lose you."

He could hear the edge of something in her voice, soft and whispered between them, the definition of intimacy. She was bearing herself to him in the peace of her living room, opening a part of herself that even he seldom ever saw.

"You won't lose me," JJ tried to bring a smile to both their faces, "you're stuck with me, for better or worse."

Her smile was watery, tears dampening her face and his shirt, "You promise?"

JJ cupped her face with his hands, not bringing her in for a kiss but simply to press their foreheads together, "Promise."

No more words were needed; Bea rested her head on his chest, the beating of JJ's chest the only lullaby she needed. JJ had a song of his own, the sound of Bea's breathing, even and tempered, a song that he would never get sick of.

JJ drifted off to John B's words in his head, he was absolutely and completely in love with Beatriz Broussard.

AUTHORS NOTE

This is the big chungus of chapters oh my god. I have never written so many words in my life (a whopping 10,700).

But I am very proud of it and the mix of angst/fluff/and drunken antics. Nothing is better.

Hopefully my other chapters won't be so chonky, but no promises because for some reason OBX inspires me. JJ and Bea are my entire brain right now, I have a lot planned (some happy, some sad) and want to write it all. Also JJ Maybank deserves the world and I shall give it to him.

Hope you guys enjoyed!!!