THE group ends up at a small dock. 

The dock is run down, sitting atop a body of water that Eden assumes to be the Orinoco. There's a few small boats, and many people stand atop the worn wood, cooking, selling, and conversing. Making a living out of something small, it seems.

Once again, the Bexley finds it oddly homey. Everyone looks satisfied with what they do—something the OBX can't say, itself. 

Big John leads them through the crowd of people, not truly sure where he's going himself. His son is the one who spits out directions, instructing that now that they've made it to the dock, they must find a man named Jose. 

"Okay, we've got to find this river guide named Jose." the Routledge instructs, stopping the group in place for a few moments. "Divide and conquer?"

Sarah nods, bristling away. "Okay."

"I won't get kidnapped, promise." Eden heads in the opposite direction. 

"Better not!" John B. calls back to her, turning in a different direction.

The Bexley smiles slightly before walking around the dock, asking about the whereabouts of Jose to the best of her ability. The phrases '¿Conoces a un guía de río llamado José?' and '¿Conoces a un José?' leave her lips many times, as well as simply the repetition of his name.  If he worked her as a river guide, someone had to know him, right? 

She's met with many no's, and a  few 'Aquí's' signaling that Jose was here, but no one she asks has any clue of where exactly he's at. 

Luckily, John B. is.

"Hey." There's a whistle, and the three Pogues searching around look at the younger Routledge as he ushers them over with his hand. "Come here."

Eden, Sarah, and Big John all make quick work for the direction of John B. 

Big John comments, "Okay, he's got our guy."

"With what Spanish skills?" the Bexley retorts, recalling the many failed tests and horrible pronunciation the Routledge had in the language during school.

"Speaking of which, maybe you should try to get Jose." Sarah nods at Eden as the group of four narrows in on a man sitting in a small boat, unaware of the group approaching him. 

Eden shrugs, "I'll let him try."

As they close in on the man, John B. clears his throat. "Jose?"

The man—Jose—whips around. "Sí?"

"Uh, mi llamo John B." The Routledge states. "Uh, you know....Neville?"

So much for speaking Spanish. Eden rolls her eyes, and steps beside her best friend, looking at Jose. "¿Conoces al Profesor Sowell?  Neville Persaud?"

Eden remembers the information that her, JJ, and John B. had discovered at the professors home. Him, Neville, and a group of three other people had traveled to El Dorado, the prior being the only two to come back alive. Singh had killed Sowell. He'd known Kalinago. Now, Neville was the only one left. 

Jose innocently smiles."Sí. You are friends? The professor?"

Hearing the English, John B. is quick to nod. "Yes! Yes, yes."

"Amigos, yes." Eden brightly replies, feeling her shoulders sink in relief. They were getting somewhere. 

Jose admits. "Okay. I—I waited for you." 

"Oh my God. So nice to meet you, yes." the Routledge shakes the man's hand. "You were gonna take us upstream where you took them?"

"Por supuesto." 

"Perfecto." John B. smiles.

"Uh, money." Eden instructs one of the Routledge's—Sarah, included. Technically, she was one—to pull out some cash to pay the man. "Unless he wants a free bag of weed when we find JJ, I got nothing."

John B. pats his pockets down for cash, deapanning. "Charming." 

However, Jose denies their money before the Routledge can even hand anything over. He pulls out a wad of cash. "And they already paid, so we can go."

They. 

There was no way that the rest of the Pogues would have made it here before them, given they went in the opposite direction—Eden's sure they wouldn't have money, anyways. So....who was they supposed to be? 

"Indulto?" Eden asks, hoping the man could explain more. 

"Your friends." Jose repeats, not realizing the problem. "They already paid, and they're waiting." He ushers them along, "Come on, follow me. Over here."

The group barely has to turn their heads. Eden's feet locked into place as soon as they stepped into view.

Ward Cameron, leaning heavily on a cane, and—

Her mother.

Isla Bexley stood beside him, unreadable expression on her lips.

Instead of being up in some high ponytail or braid, her hair is let down, cascading down her back. Her nails are still the same maroon-red they always were, shiny against the sun. Her lips were a muted pink, unlike the usual red lipstick she sported. Isla was less put together than usual, but nonetheless, she was there.

Eden can barely pay attention to seeing Ward again when Isla's standing right fucking there, smiling at her like nothing has ever happened between them. It's sickening. God, nothing can ever go right for the Pogues, can it?

Instinctively does her chest tighten, breath hitching sharply.  A cold and icy grip wraps around her chest, squeezing her heart. Air refuses to go into her lungs, stuck in her throat. Despite all this she feels hot, and not from the South American sun beating down on her. The sticky, humid air starts to feel a little too much against her skin. 

Eden stumbles back, ever so slightly. Her first thought is; what the fuck.

She hasn't seen Isla in months. Not since she'd woken up in the middle of the ocean, drugged and groggy. Not since her and the Pogues disappeared off to Poguelandia. Since then, Sarah had told Eden that she was on the island, but knowing she was there was much different than actively seeing her. 

Knowing she was there, Eden could try and stay away. She had the protection of her father. She could prepare herself to see the woman, if all came down to it.

But right now, Eden isn't ready. 

As much as she's tried to be ready, Eden simply isn't. The sight of her mother has all her confidence stripped, and she's suddenly a trembling little girl afraid of her mommy. Weak prey amongst a predator.

Her next thought is why.

Why is Isla here? She promised. Sarah promised she wasn't part of this South America trip. Why the fuck was she here? Ward was one thing in itself, given he flew them there, but Isla had no business to be here. 

The voices around her became muffled, and for a second, she was back in the Cameron's house, feeling the prick of the needle in her neck. Her breath quickened. Too fast. Too shallow.

God, she can't do this. 

A hand brushed her arm, grounding her for just a moment. "Eden?"

Sarah.

Eden blinked rapidly, forcing herself to stay here, to not lose herself completely. But her body wasn't listening—her chest still heaved, her fingers trembled, and all she could do was stare at Isla, feeling like a trapped animal.

"You promised." the Bexley finally says, voice nothing more than a whisper. It cracks as she looks at Sarah, "You promised me she wasn't going to be a part of this, Sarah. You promised—"

"Eden, I didn't know." Sarah comes to the brunette, watching as she spiraled quickly. Too quickly. She tries to ground the girl with steady hands. "I promise you, I didn't know. My dad said she wasn't—"

Ward calls out. "Hi, honey!" 

Isla just stands there, watching her daughter. Clearly, she doesn't know what to say, either. 

"I'll take care of him. I'm so sorry, Eden." Sarah squeezes the girls shoulder, before striding right towards her father with a look of nothing but anger. She'd stopped feeling sympathetic for him a while ago. "I told you! Do you even ever listen—and what is she doing here!"

The she in context lets out an unamused huff and starts walking away from Ward. "I'll let you two figure this out."

John B. glances at his best friend, frowning at the way she placed a hand to her sternum, trying to take a deep breath. He moves closer to her, wrapping an arm around her and setting his chin atop her head. "Breathe, okay?"

Eden exhales as best she can, squeezing her eyes shut uncomfortably. His grip was a quiet comfort, a reminder that she wasn't alone, even if she felt like she was suffocating.

Ahead of them, Isla crosses over—without the usual click of heels, given she was in tennis shoes. The Routledge keeps her eyes trained on her, his voice low but firm. "You're not fucking talking to her."

Isla eyed John B. with a knowing gaze. "John Booker, isn't that right?"

"What the hell are you two doing here?" Big John steps forward, his presence commanding. He has an angry look in his eyes. Eden's sure if her mother wasn't a woman, she'd be knocked out by now. 

"It's good to see you alive, John," Isla said, her eyes flickering with something unreadable as she glanced at the older man. "You don't look like you've aged a day."

Eden wanted to snap at her mother, to shout, to say so much that had been bubbling up for months. But her throat was tight, and no words came out.

"Did you know about this?" Big John looks at his son, but he more so narrows his eyes in on Eden. She was his daughter to a degree, yes. But how could she and Sarah not have known?

The Routledge shakes his head. "No, I didn't." 

"You don't have a clue? Not the smallest little idea?" Big John looks angry. More than Eden's ever seen him before. He eyes the Bexley in his son's hold, narrow and cold. "What about you, Bexley?" 

"Jesus, Dad, look at her!" John B. exclaims—he can't believe his dad is trying to blame the two girls, specifically Eden on this. "She didn't know. None of us did!"

Big John let out a huff and shoves right past Isla, storming over to Ward and Sarah with a powerful stride. 

Ward's eyes widen as he sees the man barreling towards him from over his daughter's shoulder. "Wait, wait, John. Listen to me—listen to me!" He puts a hand out, like it'll stop the man from hurting him. "Hold on! Listen to me—"

"You tried to kill me, you son of a bitch!" Big John grabs the Cameron by the collar, lifting him. It's easy to do, given the weak condition he's in—there's a reason he has a cane, Eden assumes. "You tried to kill me, and you corrupt Isla into lying for you. Corrupted her, I tell you—"

Ward chokes out. "You have every reason to be upset."

"I'm not upset—who said I was upset!" Two hands to Ward's collar, the Routledge enlists a tight yell of pain from the Cameron. "You're injured—"  

"Yeah, yeah!"

As Big John kept Ward occupied, Eden forced herself to breathe, her pulse hammering in her ears. She stepped away from the Routledge, cautious. 

"Eden," Isla said finally, her voice almost soft—almost. "Are you going to say something, or are you just going to keep pretending I'm not here?"

Eden swallowed the bile rising in her throat. Her nails dug into her palms again. She couldn't look at her mother, not fully, not yet. "I don't have anything to say to you."

Isla tilts her head. "Nothing at all? It's been a month. I thought you were dead after that scheme you pulled on the Coastal Venture."

Eden's jaw clenched, her chest tightening all over again. Her head whipped toward Isla, and suddenly, all the fear, all the panic, all the weight pressing down on her exploded into something else—something angry.

"What the fuck are you even doing here?" Eden spat, finally finding an ounce of confidence against the woman. "Why are you here?"

Isla exhaled slowly, like she was trying to be patient. It only pissed Eden off more. "I came to help."

Eden let out humorless laugh. "Bullshit."

Isla's lips quirked up slightly. "Oh, sweetheart. Always so distrusting."

"Hm, I wonder why." The younger girl snapped, unamused. "Last time I saw you, you drugged me and were trying to kidnap me to Guade-fuckin'-loupe with two murderers."

Isla shakes her head. "That was a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?" Eden repeated, eyes flashing. "You call that a misunderstanding? Mom, I was having a panic attack and you drugged me. I thought you were going to help me for once, and you took me away from everything I know and locked me in a room on a boat." She scoffs, "You were going to take me away from dad. That's not a misunderstanding." 

Isla sighed, shifting her weight. "Eden—"

"No, fuck you," Eden cut her off. That was the one phrase she'd been waiting to tell the woman, forever. "You don't get to just show up and act like everything is fine, like you're some kind of fucking ally. You don't get to act like you care."

Isla's expression flickered again, but Eden didn't care. She didn't care what her mother felt, what she had to say.

Not anymore.

Isla finally says, "I'm not here to fight with you."

Eden shook her head, her breathing still uneven, still shaky. "Then why are you here?"

Isla doesn't get a chance to answer before Spanish is yelled through the dock.

"¿Has visto a tres americanos?"

Eden turns around, heart skipping a beat as she sees Singh standing a few feet away. He's in a Hawaiian button down, but he looks less than relaxed and happy. His figure is a clear sign that their out of time—they need to get out of here, now.

"Singh's here," the Bexley moves away from her mother to nudge her best friend. 

"I know." John B. grits, eyeing the two older men who were still busying spatting at one another.

"I don't know what to do!" Sarah strides over. She's not about to get in the middle of them, that's for sure. "What do we do? They're—"

"Singh." the Routledge comes over to her, Eden trailing after him. "Hey. Singh is here. He's here."

"Oh!"

"Yeah, we gotta go."

"Time to go! Time to go! Time to go!"

The trio of teens, with Isla trailing behind them, tread over to where Ward and Big John are. The Routledge still has the upper hand, gritting and cursing in the Cameron's face, who takes it weakly—not like he can fight.

"You threw me overboard!"

"Sorry to interrupt, but this is gonna have to have a little recess because Singh is here." Eden comes right in between the two, trying her best to end the squabble between the middle-aged men. "And I've already been kidnapped by him once, and I really wouldn't like to do it again!"

Isla speaks up, "Kidnapped?"

"Yeah, you'd know about it if you were actually present." Eden brushes it off with a sarcastic smile. "Now let's go."

John B. shoves his dad. "Get in the damn boat. Go—go!" 

"Shit!"

"Get in there!"

"Not those—"

Spanish echos through the dock, angry and insistent. It's their sign that time for stalling is long gone. 

Big John gets inside of the boat, tugging a tarp over himself as Sarah filed in right behind him. The sturdiness is tested, the boat rocking slightly with the shift in weight. The blonde holds out a hand and Eden takes it, hopping in beside her.

"Wait, what about Pope, Kie, and Cleo?" Sarah suddenly asks, worry spiked as she recalls the teens who'd traveled with them. She glances at Eden, thinking of the boy who'd come with her. "JJ?" 

"They'll figure it out." The younger Routledge brushes off, "We gotta go, now."

Eden nods at the blonde, hoping to ease her. "JJ has a map and some guy tried to help us on the bus ride down here. With Pope, I think they'll find us." 

John B.'s tugging on a rope, pulling the boat away from the dock. He's about to hop on when, without warning, Ward forces himself onto the boat with strain. Isla follows suit much more smoothly. 

The two Kooks immediately argue. 

 Sarah's eyes widen. "No, Dad, what are you—"

"No! Get off!" Eden shoos her mother away, like she's a pest. Her stomach sinks at the thought of being stuck with her. "This isn't your mission—"

Ward admits. "We're going."

"No—no you're not!" the Cameron's voice cracks.

"Singh is dangerous. You are over your head in this thing."

"Damn it!"

Eden wants to shove her mother right into the Orinoco below, but she realizes they don't have time to fight and argue. They had to go, now. Screaming at Isla and Ward would only stall them, and possibly draw Singh closer.

If that meant the two parents would be tagging along, the Bexley supposes she's just going to have to fucking deal with it. 

Big John doesn't bat an eye at his old friends. "John B, John B—"

"Ándale! Ándale!" Jose ushers. 

John B. hops in as Jose starts the motor, the small boat pedaling out of the water. 

"Get down!" Big John calls, "Get down!"

Everyone onboard does as asked, making themselves as small as possible. Eden moves to the very edge of the boat, as far away as she can from her. Ward tries to grab a hold of his daughter and Sarah roughly shoves him away. Big John just stares hard at the Kooks. 

Jose quietly maneuvers them away from the dock. Eventually, Singh's yells are no longer heard and they're left alone with the South American jungle around them, and the constant cawing of a bird. 

Sarah looks over her shoulder. "I guess it's just us."

The Pogues all look at Isla and Ward. The odd ones out.

Eden wasn't planning on trusting  her mother ever again. Certainly not now. 

Thankfully, the boat ride wasn't as long as Eden expected it to be. 

The prospect of being stuck on a boat with Ward and Isla felt as if it would drag on forever,  but Jose made quick work of driving them to El Tesoro. No one spoke to one another—not even John B. and Eden, or the Routledge and his girlfriend. The silence made the tension worse, if it wasn't bad already.  

The humidity had caught up with all inhabitants of the boat, Pogues and Kooks alike covered in a clammy sweat. The end of Eden's ponytail sticks to the back of her neck, and she's airing her button down against her exposed stomach to find some kind of relief. 

Jose motors them into a small little village. Shacks with the wood peeling off their roofs are set up everywhere. Native people sit around the dock fishing, or in their small set-ups creating fire. It's much calmer than the market Singh had been infesting moments beforehand. 

Isla is the first off, outstretching an arm to help Ward out next, who uses his cane for leverage. He starts limping through the dock with Sarah following behind him—there are a few feet between them, of course. Isla files in between the Kook girl. Eden waits a few seconds before filing out next, the two Routledge's beside her.

Ward walks over to a shack, slacking into a chair. Sarah, surprisingly, sits down across from him. Isla chooses not to intervene, and prowls around the dock, examining the surroundings of the worn down area.

Eden decides to stay with her real family. 

"Well, welcome to El Tesoro, Bird." Big John announces, taking in the small dock. He and the two teens trail a little behind the Kooks ahead. "We'll hole up here for the night. Move out at first light."

"Looks cozy." Eden drawls, glancing around at where they'd be sleeping for the night. She'll just stay tucked up near John B. and Sarah on the opposite end of wherever they hole up from her. 

Big John stops in his tracks, pointing a finger at a giant mountain that stands in the distance. "Somewhere up there is the dig site and El Dorado." He looks at his son, who doesn't meet his gaze. One is more interested than the other, clearly. "With that letter and this gnomon, I think we got a shot, you and me."

You and me. 

Eden fights the urge to roll her eyes.  Of course, Big John was going to ignore the two girls who'd done more for his son in the last year than he has. If it wasn't for the Pogues, they wouldn't be here, in her opinion. Yet, Big John is still choosing to keep this a family only mission. Whatever floats his boat.

John B. doesn't seem all too thrilled with the way his father worded his sentence and—unlike the Bexley, who held her tongue for once—sighs, "Eden's right here, Dad. And Sarah." 

What Eden had told him, going off on him a few days ago, John B. truly realized just how much his friends had done for him, and how little he'd ever figured out on his own. He didn't plan on leaving them out ever again. 

Big John spares a glance at Eden, before speaking about the other. "Sarah ain't done the deep dive like we have."

That's where Eden can't hold back.

Sarah ruined her life for them. 

She had shattered her own reflection, let the Pogues strip away the shine and the polish until all that was left was the raw, jagged version of herself. She traded white dresses for salt-stained tank tops, manicured hands for bruised knuckles, a warm bed in Tannyhill for the hard, uneven boards of the Chateau. She had nearly died for them. For John B.  For all this stupid gold. She'd let the Pogues tear her apart and didn't once ask to be put back together.

Yes, she had made mistakes. But Sarah had proved herself. 

"You're serious?" Eden guffaws said, raising a brow. "Sarah hasn't done the deep dive? She's given up everything for the Pogues." 

"I don't trust anybody with the last name of Cameron." Big John admits—as if it weren't obvious. His gaze shifts to the Bexley narrowly. "And while you're something of a daughter to me, Eden, Bexley's have been added to the list of people I can't trust."

The Bexley tries to hide her frown. Big John had always been more of a parent to her than her own, but now she's just an untrustworthy thing to him.

John B. starts, "Dad, that's not fair." 

"Her mother is just as bad as Ward." Big John continues, not seeming to care about who's feeling he's hurting. He turns to his son, like he'll be able to get the boy to agree with him. "You think they just showed up on their own?" He slaps John B.'s arm. "Just you and me."

Big John walks away without another word.

John B. watches his father's retreating figure, jaw clenched so tight it might just snap. The weight of his father's words, the absolute dismissal of everyone who had been there for him, makes his stomach turn. He'd spent so long chasing the idea of Big John, of what it would mean to finally have him back, that he'd ignored the reality of who his father really was.

The apology is already forming in his throat before he even turns back to Eden. He knows she deserves it. He knows Sarah does too.

"I'm sorry about him." The Routledge admits to his best friend. "He's acting so out of line. You know I want you here, Eden." 

"It's fine." Eden brushes off the sting with shrug. "He already told me I act like her anyway, so it wasn't like he was ever going to trust me with this whole El Dorado plan." 

John B.'s shoulders drop slightly. "That's not true."

But Eden just shakes her head, not wanting to argue about it. What's the point? It wouldn't change the fact that Big John had made up his mind, wouldn't change the fact that, to him, she was just another Bexley now.

"Whatever." Eden mutters. "It's not a big deal."

Without another word, the Bexley turns around and treads back over towards the water. It's much murkier than that of the OBX's oceans, but it's water nonetheless. Water has always been Eden's sanctuary. Her blood is made of it. 

She takes a seat at the end of a dock, legs folding underneath her. 

For a moment, Eden manages to find a few moments of peace. She pushes the sound of the native people interacting behind her and tries to focus on the quiet ripple of the water. Of the chirping of birds and buzz of insects. On anything but the problems surrounding her. 

Unlucky for her, the largest one approaches.

Isla's footsteps are something Eden's grown familiar with. Quickly does the woman approach, barely hesitating before taking a seat right beside her daughter like everything was okay.  For a brief moment, the mother and daughter sit beside each other in a tension filled silence.

"This weather is unbearable." Isla finally speaks up, a hint of exhaustion noticeable in her crisp tone. She fans herself with one hand, clearly irritated by the humidity. 

Eden barely glances at her. She's doing enough by not punching the woman.

"You know," Isla looked at her, but her expression softening for a brief moment. "Your father and I had our honeymoon in South America. He loved it down here. It is beautiful....though much hotter than I remember."

Eden speaks up at the mention of her father, "Don't talk about Dad." 

Her snappy comment should shut Isla down. If the Bexley woman knew anything about herself, she'd know it would apply to Eden too. Like mother like daughter when they're angry—they've always had the same sharp tongue. 

But Isla doesn't back down. Instead, she purses her lips.  "You know, I do love your father." She speaks like she's trying to justify something in her mind. "I love you, too, Eden. I always have. You know that."

Eden digs her fingers into her thighs, gripping the fabric of her clothes like it's the only thing anchoring her in place. "Then why did you try to split us apart? Why did you do all of this?"

The question hangs in the air, sharp and accusing, cutting through the space between them. 

Isla leans back slightly, as if gathering her thoughts. "You were always better off without those Pogues, Eden." 

"No, Mom." the younger Bexley snaps, unamused with the way her mother always took the conversation. "I'm asking why the fuck you ruined my life."

Isla stares at her daughter, her face unreadable, but Eden doesn't stop. She can't.

"Because it fucked me up. Big time." Eden begins, not afraid to call the woman out.  "You were never a good mom. I'll tell you that right now. You never have been, and that's something I can handle. But you were still my mom." Her nails dig into her shorts, "But then you go and keep secrets of murder. And you try to put the one person who's ever been real family to me in jail, and go so far with that he almost gets the death penalty.  And you keep more secrets, secrets I find out from some random lady. And then you gaslight me into thinking I'm the one who's crazy." She rolls her eyes at the memory. "You told Dad I needed medication. Medication, Mom! And when you couldn't lie your way out of it anymore, when it all started falling apart, you almost fucking killed yourself."

Isla's face doesn't change, but there's something in her eyes. A flicker of pain, maybe. Guilt? Eden doesn't know, and she doesn't care.

"But you didn't. You tell me you're choosing me, but then you're off with Ward again, leaving Dad behind and kidnapping me away." Eden continues, voice expressive as she tried to ask her mother why. "Seriously, Mom, I can't even look at you." She exhales sharply, shaking her head. "I couldn't even think about meeting you a week ago without having a fucking panic attack—I can't trust you."

She finally looks at Isla, really looks at her, and frowns. "Why the fuck would you do that?"

Isla pauses before repeating the same bullshit she always does. "You don't understand—"

"Then make me understand!" Eden demands, her voice breaking just slightly at the end. "Explain to me how you can stand there and act like you had to do this.

Isla shifts her expression, and lets out a short laugh, dry and humorless. "You think it was that simple?"

Eden glares at her. "I think you knew exactly what you were doing."

Eden waits for an answer, just like she has been for the last few months. She knows she doesn't owe her mother her patience like this, but the innocent person she used to be just yearns for a single answer to her why. 

Isla just exhales, slow and controlled. When she finally speaks, her voice is softer than before, but it doesn't hold the apology Eden so desperately wants.

"You don't understand, Eden."

Eden laughs, short and bitter. "Oh, fuck off." 

The Bexley gets on her feet with a scoff and walks off. She's not here to argue with her mother, but she's also not here to hear the same bullshit words she's been listening too since she found out of Isla's involvement in Ward's games.

She spots Sarah standing in a shack a little away and meets the blonde there. She looks just as thrilled, after her own conversation with her dad. 

"How'd yours go?" Eden asks quietly.

Sarah crosses her arms, staring off. "He said I was his gold." 

"Oh, that's new." the Bexley nods along, though Ward always seemed to say some stupid bullshit like that, as if he had a chance at earning Sarah back. "Isla just hit me with the classic, 'You don't understand', so, not much better here."

Sarah grimaces. "I hate that one."

"Right?" Eden throws her hands up. "Like, bitch, I understand perfectly. You're a liar. A manipulator. And you only care about me when it's convenient for you." She shakes her head, staring out at the jungle beyond the shack. "I shouldn't have even talked to her. It's just the same shit over and over again."

Sarah lets out a long sigh, glancing at her friend. "At least we're consistent. They fuck us over, we somehow still give them the chance to explain, and surprise, they don't."

Eden huffs a laugh, but it lacks any real amusement. "God, we're stupid."

A sad smile pulls at Sarah's lips. "No. We're just still hoping they'll be better."

Eden let's out a low hum, looking down into the water below.

 A gator glides through the murky substance, its eyes barely visible above the surface as it moves with eerie stillness. Eden watches it for a moment, then scoffs under her breath. "Remember when John B. got bit by one of those things?" 

Sarah snorts, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips. "How could I forget?"

"I tried to kill it with my Converse." The Bexley muses, thinking back to when they were stuck at Angel oak due to the rising tides, and she and Sarah had to defend the Routledge as best they could. "Dude was getting death-rolled."

"Are you two done?"

The two Kooks look back to see John B. stepping towards them, unamused at the conversation he's hearing. 

Eden rocks on her heels. "Just reminiscing on good times." 

The Routledge lightly rolls his eyes before admitting. "I saw you guys talking to your parents."

"My dad says he's just here to help." Sarah says, shaking her head at the idea of it. "But....I don't trust him. Or Isla, for that matter. If he's bringing her here, he clearly needs help with something." 

Sarah takes a seat, leaning her elbows on her knees.  Eden does the same beside her. John B. follows suit on her other side, glancing back at his father.

"Yeah, well, my dad doesn't necessarily trust either of you, so..." the Routledge admits, low and under his breath like they didn't already know.

"Yeah, I gathered that much." Sarah spares a quick glance at Big John. She's sensed the ignorance coming from him as soon as she met him. He was welcoming then, but the closer they got to El Dorado, the less he included her. Or any of the Pogues, really. "I don't blame him. Not after what my dad did to him."

"I will." Eden shrugs bluntly, glancing at the other too. "Big John was more of a parent to me than either of mine ever were when I was younger. He didn't care that I was a Bexley then. So, yeah, it stings that he does now."

Sarah nods curtly, before changing the topic. "I know we've been through a lot, but we're still good, right?" She's not looking directly at John B. or Eden. It's a question meant for both ends. 

Maybe there was something between the trio, now that Sarah's loyalty had been tested, but, she'd proved herself worthy of being a Pogue again. 

John B. looks away for a moment, before nodding himself. "Yeah. We're good." 

Eden sighs, rolling her shoulders before offering a small, tired smile. "Yeah."

Sarah looks back at the Bexley, searching her face, as if waiting for Eden to take it back.  She doesn't.

For now, they were all good. 

The group camps out for the night, but by morning they're on their feet again.

The sun hasn't fully risen when they start to pack their bags. There's a slight breeze in their air, and a mist over the tropical habitat. A blue tint hues their camp. The humidity is still there, but it's much more tolerable due to the early time. 

The two Routledge's are crouched, packing up some duffel bags with supplies. Eden leans against their camp, blinking herself awake. Sarah shifts a bag upon her shoulders, which were now covered in the button-down that her boyfriend had sported the previous day. Isla and Ward hadn't been seen all night.

Big John is just as snappy as he was the previous day, maybe even more, given they're finally starting their journey. His hands make quick work of shoving the idol into his bag as he warns, "That site's a whole day's walk. We gotta get up there before moonrise. If we miss the solstice then all this was for nothing." 

Eden exhales sharply through her nose, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she watches Big John move with urgency, like every second wasted is a personal insult. Voice still thick with sleep, she mutters, "Yeah, yeah, we got it." 

"Yeah, listen, girls, I'm telling you right now if you two fall behind, I ain't waiting." 

"Dad." John B.'s eyes blow wide, "Stop—stop!"

"What? I ain't. It's a matter of fact."

Eden deadpans. "You're the one who's pushing sixty. I'd worry about yourself." 

Big John grumbles something, his son moving away from him and towards his girlfriend and sister. Slightly embarrassed, John B. huffs, "Sorry about the cranky old man."

"You know what? It's whatever." the Bexley sighs, moving a hand up to run it through her hair. "I haven't had my morning coffee either."

John B. corrects, "You mean Red Bull."

"Yeah, you're right, I don't even like coffee."

As the two friends speak, Ward and Isla appear from the other side of the dock. The Cameron man is limping towards them, with the Bexley trailing behind him. 

Big John immediately pushes past the teens, eyes locked on the adults with a barely contained fury. "I'm gonna go tell that son of a bitch and his little snake they ain't coming." 

John B. wraps his hands around his bag straps. "Dad, hey." 

"Snake is way too nice of a word, Big John." Eden calls out, amused at the older man's word choice. 

The younger Routledge sighs. "Don't encourage him." 

No one else gets to speak before Ward interrupts.

"Hey, listen, fellas." the Cameron limps forward past Big John, resting in front of the three teens, more so Sarah. "I'm real sorry but I'm not gonna be able to make it up that mountain, not on this leg. I'd be slowing you down, that's all. So, I'm just gonna....hang here." 

Sarah doesn't say anything back.

"Tell you what, I got a flare gun. If I see Singh come through here, I'll send up a flare, let you all know he's coming." The younger Cameron finally nods at this, and Ward finishes, "Least I can do."

Sarah offers, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Ward nods, eyeing his daughter a final time. "Good luck."

Eden watches as Ward backs off. She isn't sure if she believes a word that comes out of his mouth, but for once, he isn't trying to force himself into their plans. That's enough for now.

But then her gaze flickers to Isla, who hasn't spoken yet. Who stands just a little too still.

The Bexley tilts her head, narrowing her eyes slightly. "You're staying too?"

Isla nods, curtly. "I am. Someone has to take care of him."

"For the love of God, actually stay," Eden mutters, exasperated. She can try all she wants to trust her mother's word, but she hasn't been able to in a while. "Don't follow me. I don't need you."

Isla doesn't flinch. She just looks at her, unreadable as ever. "I know."

Eden turns around with that. She has nothing more to say. 

"Good job." John B. mutters under his breath.

"Yeah, thanks." the Bexley replies, shoulders still tense. 

And with that, they headed for El Dorado. 

mara's misc!

took me so long to finish writing this bc i've been so busy BUT it's my show weekend so i wanted to update

if ya'll didn't know, i'm in a production of shrek!! i'm one of the three pigs and a tapping rat which has been fun. it's been a sometimes miserable experience, BUT last night was opening night and it was amazing. like i was smiling so hard while tapping the audience was loving it sm and it just reminded me WHY i do theater. like smiling there i knew that is what i wanted to keep doing it. it was so full circle, especially when the last 3 months has had me questioning why i do theater. 

anywho, wish me luck for 2nd show && closing night!!

yes isla is back!! couldn't let her go for good (not yet, at least). still kinda torn on how i want to end s3, so expect there to be little gap between this and the next chapter while i work everything out. 

honestly i'm in a rush to get to the theater, so idk what to say

hope you enjoyed <3 see you back with chapter 81!!