i need angst to feel something please ughshahsjajd 💔💔 rafeee please !!xx
western nights
college!rafe 𐙚 college!reader
the dorm hallway was too quiet for a friday night. the usual muffled bass from some off-campus party was there, but it felt far away, like the world was happening without you. you sat cross-legged on your bed, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, staring at the unopened text from rafe.
can we talk?
you hadn’t answered. not because you didn’t want to — god, you always wanted to — but because you knew if you let him in again, it would be the same cycle: rafe burning too bright, you getting pulled into his gravity, and then both of you left in pieces when he inevitably spiraled. a knock on the door. not the usual light tap from your roommate, but a firm, impatient thud. you already knew.
when you opened the door, rafe was leaning against the frame, baseball cap low, hoodie zipped halfway, eyes bloodshot. his mouth opened like he’d rehearsed something, but the words didn’t come.“why are you here?” you asked, keeping your voice steady. he ran a hand over his jaw. “because you won’t answer me.”
“maybe that’s the point.” he flinched.“so that’s it? you’re just done?”. “rafe…” you sighed, leaning on the door. “you disappear for days. you show up at 3 a.m. smelling like weed. and then you look at me like I’m supposed to fix it all.”
“i don’t want you to fix me,” he said quickly. but the the crack in his voice betrayed him. “i just—” he stopped, swallowed, looked away. “you make it quiet in my head. i don’t know what to do without that.”
and you knew that that was the problem. you wanted to be his quiet. you wanted to be the place he ran to when the world was too much. but being his safe place also meant being the one to catch him every time he fell. and you were tired. you shook your head, voice low. “i can’t keep being your quiet if you’re not willing to save yourself even for a bit.” for a second, neither of you moved. the hallway light flickered, footsteps echoed somewhere far away. rafe stepped back, shoving his hands into his pockets, jaw clenched. “right” he muttered. “guess i’ll see you around, then.”
and just like that, he was gone — leaving you with the quiet you thought you wanted, and the ache you couldn’t shake.
a while back i saw an edit that was about drew starkey and rudy pankow's friendship, and when i looked in the comments someone was talking about how they were giving dylan o'brien and thomas brodie-sangster and lowk...
Do we realize that if Kiara wasn't that stupid to shout "murderer" at Ward after Gavin's homicide, obx season 2 could have been prevented ENTIRELY right? It's her fault ONLY. Don't even try to argue. It was STUPID.
jj maybank x fem!routledge OC -- FIX-IT FIC // read on Ao3
In which a boy with zero self preservation falls in love with a girl clawing at life.
chapter summary. aboard the ship, a new friend comes into the picture; being pirates is not as easy as one would think; lottie realizes she'd follow JJ just about anywhere
notes. we've reached the end of s2! I'm already about halfway through writing season 3. and I promise this slow burn FINALLY pays off
word count. 5.3k || masterlist
previous chapter < > next chapter
Inside the shipping container, they waited with bated breath until it started to move. Loud clanking sounded from above their heads, and they were tossed with each jarring movement. Lottie attempted to hold herself up using one of the ratchet straps, holding a bundle of crates, but when the container started to move sideways and upwards, she lost her grip. Before she hit the ground, an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her against the wall. JJ, who was doing a pretty good job staying upright compared to the rest of them, drew her close and made her feel a little sturdier.
They were tossed around one last time before the container stilled, and that loud clanking of chains from above echoed again, telling them they were on the ship.
Lottie didn’t know if she was relieved or even more freaked out.
She started to lean toward freaking out as the heat rose in the stuffy container that they had no way to open it from the inside. Lottie shed her jacket and tried to drown out the boys' bickering before Kie told them to shut up. Arguing wasn’t going to make the door open; they needed to find a way out.
They gathered in a circle in the middle of the container, sitting on boxes and trying to brainstorm what they were supposed to do if they made it out of the container.
“How do you kill a snake?” asked JJ.
Pope eyed him from across the circle. “You go for the head.”
“Exactly! Except the head, in this instance, is the bridge. To take the bridge, we need maxim firepower, and I happen to know that there’s an armory on this ship in case of pirate attacks.” JJ knew that because he had done some work on that very ship for a couple of extra bucks back when his dad worked for short while at the docks.
Lottie looked up from where she’d been staring at her fingers; they started to bleed from how deep she was picking at them, but she couldn’t get herself to stop. “We’re not killing anyone, JJ.”
He just sighed and waved her off. “Okay, Lot’s out. But listen…” He started to rant about how they could infiltrate the ship’s armory, while Kie stepped away to look around the container for a way out.
Lottie joined her, not caring to listen to the boys’ plan that sounded built to backfire.
“Do you see that or am I already losing it?” asked Kie, pointing to what looked like a stream of light peeking out from behind one of the crates. Together, they moved the top box to the floor, uncovering a window for ventilation, just big enough for a person for squeeze through.
They called the boys over and JJ used his Swiss army knife to pop off the grate covering the opening.
He was still deadest on raiding the armory, but they decided that it would be best if not everyone left the container. The more people, the bigger chance of being caught. That, and JJ was the kind of person to fight first and hide second, which wasn’t what they needed if they wanted to take the group on the ship who outnumbered them by surprise. All they needed to do was get Sarah and the cross. There were a lot of risks involved, risks that could potentially be made worse if JJ raided the armory and started shooting.
They decided that John B. would go after Sarah while Pope and Kie tried to nab the cross. That left her and JJ in the shipping container. JJ tried to argue but stopped after Lottie shot him a look. He sat down, grumbling to himself but agreeing.
Before Kie, John B., and Pope departed, she tried to rack her brain for a peptalk, but the best she could do was, “Don’t get shot, please.” They promised to try their best before they took turns shimmying out the window.
After replacing the grate so no one wandering around the ship noticed anything out of place, Lottie took a seat beside JJ, who tried to occupy his anxious energy by toying with the knife in his hand.
“How’d we get stuck on the B-Team?” he huffed. “I hate sitting on the bench.”
“It’s not so bad, avoiding trouble for once. And you know how much I hate running.”
He chuckled and nodded, his gaze fixed on his knife. He closed it after a moment and stuffed it back in his boot before turning his head to look at Lottie. “Thanks for helping me with my dad,” he said, voice quiet. “You know, I used to think about it, about him leaving for good, all the time. But now that he’s fucking off somewhere off the island I…I don’t know.”
Lottie studied him for a moment, frowning at the worry lines creasing his forehead and the emoting pooling in his eyes, all conflicting. “He’s still your dad, even if he wasn’t a very good one.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “That bastard left just when I could fight him back.”
Lottie placed a hand on his bouncing knee. “Are you gonna be okay?”
He placed his hand over Lottie’s, and she half thought he was going to shrug her off like he had a habit of doing every now and then, when things got too real. Instead, he curled his fingers around hers, their hands both sweaty but neither one seemed to care.
“Yeah,” he said after a beat. “I’ve got this, like, annoying voice in my ear tellin’ me I’m not alone and all that other bullshit.”
Lottie gasped. “Annoying?!”
He broke out in laughter, a sweet sound that was contagious. They sat there, in a shipping container heading out to sea, laughing together and squeezing each other’s hands a little tighter. It almost made Lottie forget the reason they were there in the first place, until Pope’s voice rang from outside.
They rushed to the window and JJ removed the grate. They all started to crawl back into the container. As John B. jumped down, Lottie handed the grate back to JJ to put back, but was stopped by Pope as a fourth person entered, who wasn’t Sarah.
She looked young, probably around their age.
“Jesus Christ,” the girl hissed angrily. “I kill you John B.!"
“Uh, who is this?” asked Lottie, confused by the new addition to their group.
“Do you remember the girl I told you about who saved us in the Bahamas?” John B. said.
Lottie thought for a moment before her eyes widened, flickering between her brother and the new girl. She had dark, curly hair and dark skin already beaded with sweat from the heat inside the container. Her face was pinched in anger that seemed to be only pointed at John B., and her arms crossed over her chest.
“Oh, my God. Is this the girl you hit with your car?!”
“Ah!” the girl laughed. “Exactly! Then he bring me here. Piece of shit, you know that, John B.?”
He sighed. “Yeah, Cleo, this is my sister, Lottie. And that’s JJ. Guys, this this Cleo.”
The three quickly debriefed their failed attempt to get what they came there for. It would prove to be a lot more difficult than they intended, which sounded par for the course. They had no idea where the cross was being stored or where they were keeping Sarah. All they managed to do was alert the crew that there were stowaways on board and race back to where the crew would most definitely come to search eventually.
“I can’t believe you didn’t grab a single gun!” JJ complained.
John B. threw his hands up in defense. “I tried! But I was attacked, okay?”
Cleo looked between the group, eyes narrowed slightly. “Let me get this straight. You five, with no weapons, decide you were gonna hijack this tramp steamer on your own. Do you have any idea who these people are?” No one said anything, giving away the fact that they were way out of their depth. “Ebrahimi, if he catch you, he’s gonna kill you. Dead. Cut off ya fingers.”
Lottie’s eyes widened. That was reassuring.
“What if we wait until we get to port?” asked Kie. “At least then, if something goes wrong, we have a place to run.”
Pope quickly shook his head. “No, we can’t do that. I’ve run the scenario a thousand times in my head, and our best chances are on this ship,” he said. “There are fifteen crew members of six of us. Those odds are the best we’re gonna get. If we wait until we get to port, they’ll trap us.”
“Those still aren’t great odds.” Lottie started to pick at her fingernails again; worry seeping in like they were sinking. There was a high chance that whatever skills the six of them possessed to outsmart the crew didn’t outweigh what the crew had. They knew the ship better and where the weapons were. They were outnumbered, and none of them had any experience plotting and executing a hostile takeover of an entire ship; she was pretty sure of that.
John B. cleared his throat. “There’s something else…” He looked to Lottie with an unreadable expression taking over his face. “Ward’s alive.”
She thought she had misheard him, the words sinking in slowly. Ward. Ward Cameron. The man they had all watched explode alongside his boat. How could he have survived that?
“He’s alive and he’s here, on the ship,” John B. said.
With a shake of his head, JJ said, “God, and I thought we were like cockroaches.”
“T-That’s not possible…” Lottie sputtered.
“I know. I don’t know how, but he survived. He must’ve set the whole thing up, blowing up the boat after his confession that he killed Peterkin. Think about it. All of that was just to clear Rafe’s name. He goes onto the Druthers, and you know what on that boat?”
“Suba,” Kie answered, earning a nod from John B.
“So, Ward’s alive and he not only has the gold, but also the cross and Sarah,” JJ said. “And he’s just gonna get away with everything again? We can’t let that happen! We’re not watching this movie again!” JJ started to pace back and forth across the small container. “We need a win and with her,” he pointed at Cleo. “We’re gonna take the bridge and we’re gonna do it now.”
There was a short beat where no one seemed to know exactly what to say, until John B. said, “Let’s do it.”
Pope nodded. “I’m with you, but I want to be the one who takes the bridge.”
A laugh fell from Cleo’s lips, but there was no humor on her face. She was tossing a knife up and catching it before she pointed the sharp end in Pope’s direction. “You're gonna take the bridge? You couldn’t even take me.”
Pope scoffed. “I was going easy on you.”
“I went easy on you!” Cleo said, raising her voice to match his.
Kie shushed everyone before their hiding spot of given away by their bickering.
“Look, if you're really with us, if we use that knife, we can go up to the bridge and hold it against the captain’s neck. Then, we go onto the intercom and make him tell the rest of the crew to meet up in the forward hull. Once they’re all in the same place, we lock ‘em in there and we take back what’s ours!” JJ’s plan, while ridiculous and dangerous, was pretty well thought out, Lottie had to admit.
“I like it,” said Pope. “It could work.”
Cleo, however, did not have the same sentiment. “No, this is stupid!”
Before they could launch into another argument or come up with something else, voices neared the container, shutting them all up quickly. Outside were a couple of crew members, one of whom instructed someone to start opening up the containers to check them for stowaways.
Without another word, Cleo fled through the window and called for one of the crew members’ attention. There was a tense second where Lottie and the rest of the Pogues feared she’d give them up, and their whole plot would be ruined.
Instead, Cleo told the men outside that she had already checked the container they were hiding in and that it was clear. She lied for them when she had no reason to.
The crew members believed her, and their voices and footsteps retreated just as Cleo poked her head through the window and gestured for Pope to follow her; they were going to take the bridge.
“This is massively stupid!” Lottie said, the panic of their real situation settled in. The container was too small, and it was getting hard to breathe, even though they were gathered right by the ventilation window. “We are not pirates!”
“Hey!” JJ took her by the shoulders, gaze more serious than she had seen in a long time. He looked determined. “This is going to work. I know we’ve done a lot of stupid things, but I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”
Leaning back against one of the crates, Kie rolled her eyes. “Oh, well, I’m convinced.”
He really believed they could take the bridge and rescue the treasure and Sarah. Lottie’s gut told her there were a million ways it could go sideways, but the look of pure determination in JJ’s face almost convinced her he was right. Almost.
JJ must’ve seen it too, her hesitation to believe in the plan. He dropped his hold on her shoulders and reached into his boot, pulling out his knife. “Here. Now you’ve got a weapon. If you come across someone, you just…” He made a stabbing motion with the knife before placing it in her hands with a smile.
“Thanks for the demonstration,” she muttered, curling her fingers around the knife. It did make her feel a little better about leaving the container.
They waited for a couple more minutes, until the ship’s intercom crackled to life and the captain’s voice echoed through the air, instructing the crew to meet in the forward hull.
All of them looked around in surprised realization that Cleo and Pope had actually done it and taken the bridge in hardly any time at all.
“Let’s split up,” said John B., quickly springing into action. “Once the crew is in the hull, Lot and JJ, you lock them inside. Kie and I will get Sarah and a lifeboat. Then we’ll find Pope, load the cross, and get the hell out of here.”
They all escaped the hot container and went their separate ways.
Lottie and JJ hurried toward the forward hull, trying to be as quick and unnoticed as possible. Since JJ had worked on the ship, he knew exactly where to go, making their trip a breeze. They found the door they needed to close and waited one room over, where they could see everyone enter.
Three crew members made their way toward the hull; they were confused as to why they needed to meet there, but they didn’t seem suspicious, not yet.
Cleo had told them how many crew members, including the Camerons, were aboard, and JJ managed to both remember the number and count how many were already in the hull. Almost everyone was accounted for.
“That’s all of the crew,” Lottie whispered.
JJ bit down on his lip, peering at the gathered group before he rested back against the wall with a shake of his head. “Except Ward. We need Ward.” She wanted Ward locked up, too, but if they waited, they risked the crew leaving, and their entire plan would be derailed.
“We can’t wait.”
JJ relented, and they ran forward to the door, slamming it shut with a satisfying thud. The crew inside were quick to the door, pounding their fists against the metal and pushing it in a desperate attempt to open it. She and JJ were outnumbered, trying to keep everyone inside at bay. Lottie pressed her body weight against the door, holding the handle until her fingers turned white. JJ was practically on top of her, trying to help keep the door closed with one hand and attempting to lock it with the other.
He successfully secured the latch, locking the crew in. Lottie let out a breath of relief, and so did he, his hands still pressed against the door on either side of her. When he looked away from the lock, she realized how close they were, almost nose to nose. She could feel his ragged breath on her face, and she could feel her quick beating heart knocking against her chest.
JJ’s lips parted, like he was going to say something, but it was interrupted by one of the crew members inside shouting, “Check the other door!”
They pushed off the locked door and sprinted toward the other just down the hall. By some miracle, they made it there first, before the crew did, and locked it too.
The crew was taken care of; all that was left was to get the cross and make their break.
“You know,” JJ said, pushing his sweaty hair back from his forehead with a smirk. “I think we make pretty good pirates.”
Lottie shook her head and nodded her head toward the hall. “Let’s get out of here.”
The cross was being held amongst other crates, transporting probably other stolen goods. It was in the same large, wooden crate that they had watched being loaded earlier that day. It was wrapped in blankets to keep the delicate jewels safe. As she and JJ unwrapped it, Lottie found it just as wondrous as she had when she first laid eyes on it. There was no way Rafe, Ward, or even Limbery would do the artifact justice. Limbery wanted to be healed, and the Camerons wanted to maintain their fortune. But the cross was so much more than that. They seemed to be the only people who knew or cared about that.
Overhead, the ceiling opened up to the sky and Pope. He stood on the deck as the ceiling rolled back, ready to take back what was his family’s.
The three of them cheered, half in relief and half in disbelief that their plan had actually worked up to that point. They had gotten a lot farther than Lottie had thought. Maybe JJ was right, maybe they did make good pirates.
Pope climbed the crane that would lift the cross out of the ship’s storage, while Lottie and JJ freed the cross of blankets and readied it to be lifted. As Pope lowered the crane, they grabbed the thick ropes attached to it and tied them around the cross as quickly but tightly as they could.
Though the sun was blindingly bright, free of clouds to hide behind, Lottie could see the pure determination that painted Pope’s face as he operated the crane, slowly lifting the cross. Despite that determination, he started to move too far to the left, threatening to knock the cross against the side of the open deck. JJ clung to the rope and tried to help guide the cross in the right direction, but he ended up being dragged across the floor.
“Too far!” Lottie yelled up at Pope. He corrected the crane before Lottie grabbed onto the rope as JJ jumped back to his feet, shaking off his fall. Together, the three of them managed to get the cross hanging several feet above the ship’s deck, reflecting the sunlight in a beautiful golden glow.
With it successfully out of the cargo hold, Lottie and JJ made their way back up to the deck, ready to load the cross into the lifeboat she hoped John B. had already secured.
They peered over the railing, looking in the water for their getaway, but there wasn’t any sign of him on that side of the ship. They decided to check the other side, moving swiftly and carefully. As she reached a ladder and readied to climb it, to shortcut to the other side, someone peered down at her.
With a startled yelp, Lottie backed away from the ladder just as the person jumped down it, landing on his feet with a very pissed off expression pinched on his tanned face.
“Of course, there’s more of you,” he grumbled, pulling a large knife out from behind his back. “Get down on your knees. Now.”
Lottie froze at the sight of the machete, but JJ never seemed to freeze in those kinds of situations.
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” he said before launching himself at the man, who brought the machete down, but missed JJ as he ducked out of the blade’s way.
JJ kicked the back of the man’s leg, catching him off guard just enough for JJ to pin both his hands up against a wall. The man struggled, trying to find the right angle to wriggle out of JJ’s hold and regain use of the knife held tightly in his grasp.
“Hit him, Lot!” JJ yelled, and Lottie jumped into action. She balled up her fists and struck the man in the nose. Blood started to pour from it as Lottie shook off the ache in her knuckles before she hit him again. JJ shoved him to the ground, and the two of them made it back to the railing, praying for John B. to be waiting there in the waters below.
“I don’t see him!” Lottie cried.
“Keep looking!” JJ yelled back, turning back around just as the man got back to his feet. Behind her, she heard the two scuffling, delivering blows and grunting as they fought. Lottie’s mind raced with everything that could have gone wrong on her brother’s end that would’ve prevented him from finding a lifeboat. What if he couldn’t find Sarah? What if something bad had happened to her? What if Ward had found him? What if he’d been caught by Rafe? There were so many ways their plan could have gone sideways.
A loud thud forced Lottie’s attention away from the water. She spun around just as the man lunged toward her, no longer occupied in his fight with JJ. He held up his knife with one hand and used his other to grab her face, pinning Lottie between the railing and his body. She felt the railing dig into her back as she tried to put distance between him and her, but his fingers dug into her jaw, eyes narrowed and scary. He reared back and readied to bring the knife down, but before he could, JJ jumped on his back and pulled him away from Lottie.
With shaking hands, she pulled out JJ’s pocketknife that she had stored in her back pocket and switched it open.
The man elbowed JJ hard in the head, causing him to fall back and knock him against the railing. Rearing back once again, he attempted to strike Lottie again, but she ducked and moved fast, faster than he was anticipating. As he swung his knife wildly, he delivered a hard blow with the blunt end of his machete, striking JJ in the head. Before Lottie could make another move, the way JJ was hit was with just enough force to send him right over the railing, off the side of the ship.
Her heart dropped to her feet as she screamed his name. JJ hit the water hard from the height, and the man wasn’t done. He bared his teeth and, for a third time, tried to attack Lottie. She ducked, but he was ready, bringing the knife down lower. The tip of the blade sank into her shoulder, but it didn’t get much further before she stabbed JJ’s pocket-knife with all of her might into the man’s thigh. He yelled out in pain and dropped his knife, blood oozing from the wound as she pulled the knife back out for good measure.
With the man down for at least another second, Lottie turned her back to him and leaned over the railing, spotting JJ floating face down in the water. He wasn’t moving, not lifting his head out of the water.
There wasn’t another moment of hesitation or question before Lottie was climbing the railing and jumping off the side of the ship.
For several seconds, she free-fell, the salty air in her face and heart hammering inside her chest before she crashed into the water. An instant coolness overcame her as the water soaked her to the bone.
Lottie kicked her way back to the surface and sucked in a deep breath of air before she swam toward JJ’s floating figure. She grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him over so his face wasn’t submerged. His eyes were closed and his body limp; he didn’t respond to her calling his name and tapping his cheek.
She wanted to panic; she could feel the tightness building in her chest, and that little voice in the back of her head nudging her toward a spiral. But when she looked at JJ, held tightly in her grasp to keep his head above water, Lottie knew she couldn’t.
All of her focus shifted onto him, her JJ. He’d be okay, he had to be. This was JJ, with a remarkable ability to somehow always survive.
“Hey,” she said, kicking her feet to keep them both afloat in the middle of the ocean. “JJ, please, wake up.” Water splashed on her face, stinging her eyes and causing her vision to blur.
There was a cut on the side of his head, bleeding before it was washed away by the splash of water, then repeating. Each second that passed that he didn’t open his eyes and flash a lopsided smile, the worse the ache in her chest became.
Lottie looked around, between the ship and the expanse of water. There was no sign of John B. and Kie with the lifeboat, and as far as she was aware, no one knew they were in the water. She could tread for a while, but not forever, not while keeping both herself and JJ afloat.
He was too still, too. The longer they waited, the more of a chance there was something seriously wrong. She couldn’t lose him. That wasn’t a new realization, but it struck her harder than it ever had before in that moment. She had told him to trust her a dozen times over; that no matter what, she had him. It started when they were in third grade, JJ with his gap-tooth smile and face full of freckles, who trusted her enough to patch him up when his dad got too rough.
JJ had once told her he didn’t need anyone to take care of him, that he’d done a good enough job by himself. Lottie didn’t care, though. She would be there; she wouldn’t let him down. Until someone found them, she’d keep both their heads above water.
“John!” Lottie screamed, hoping that he was somewhere near and could hear her. She yelled each of her friends’ names until her throat was raw and her voice threatened to give out.
Then, like an answer to a prayer, she saw a lifeboat. Five familiar figures were on it, hurrying toward them.
“Holy shit!” John B. reached over the edge of the boat as they stopped beside them. He quickly started to pull JJ in with the help of Pope. The girls all reached for Lottie and helped her in the lifeboat.
The second she was onboard the lifeboat, she crawled over to where JJ lay, still unconscious. Chaos erupted all around her, between the boat stalling and Rafe aiming a gun at the group from off the side of the ship. Yet, that all fell second to Lottie.
At the country club, she had, luckily, never needed to perform CPR on anyone during her shifts. The only time she had to do it was training before each season started on a dummy. The only kind of injuries she dealt with here were scraped knees, chlorine-stung eyes, and the occasional bellyflop gone wrong. All that being said, she at least knew how to give CPR, even as everything was falling into a panic around her.
Lottie tossed her wet ponytail back over her shoulder and started chest compressions, trying to keep a steady beat with the Pogues shouting at each other. She moved on autopilot, ignoring the tears that stung her eyes.
“Come on, JJ!” she said through gritted teeth.
After several more compressions and breaths, he finally started coughing and sputtering up water. Lottie was sure she had never been so happy to see someone open their eyes.
JJ sucked in a deep breath as he oriented himself, looking around at the group surrounding him. Lottie still had a hand pressed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall. She moved the other to press a bandana Pope passed to the side of his head that was bleeding from the blow of the knife.
His gaze met hers, brows furrowed slightly. “‘Sup?”
A laugh fell from her lips before all of the Pogues welcomed him back to the land of the living.
“What the hell happened?” he asked
“The blunt end of a machete happened,” she replied.
His lips curled up in a smirk. “A machete? Nice.”
That tightness inside her chest unconstructed slightly as fatigue started to move in. She rested back against the side of the lifeboat, still cradling JJ’s head as she rested her cheek on the top of his head.
“That’s some PDA, Lot,” he joked, but made no attempt to move.
She didn’t care, though. She was half in mind to kiss him, she was so happy that he was okay. After she thought she lost John B., her mind drifted to dark places where she lost each of her friends; it was a reality she never wanted to live in. They had their fair share of close calls, but JJ being knocked out and falling into the ocean was the closest. It only made her realize just how deeply she cared for all of them, for JJ.
“I thought we lost you,” she said quietly, muttering the words into his matted-down, wet hair.
His fingers curled around the wet fabric of the back of her shirt. “Nah,” he said, keeping a lightness to his voice. “I have the survival skills of a cockroach, remember?”
John B. managed to un-stall the boat, and they flew through the water, leaving the ship behind. Rafe didn’t fire a shot at them, and he pulled back as they grew too far out of reach. The cross was lost to them, but they got Sarah back. It wasn’t a complete win, but it was something.
“This isn’t over,” said Pope, not taking his eyes off the ship as the crew hauled the cross back on board after it dropped between the fights that they all had around the ship as they tried to make their escapes.
Steering the boat toward a cluster of small islands not terribly far from the ship, but quite far from anywhere else, John B. nodded. “No. It’s not.”
➤
The lifeboat had enough gas to reach a small, deserted island. They stumbled onto the sand, out of optimism, hot, and tired. The cross and the gold were in the hands of Ward, who was probably nearly at their port already, where they’d do who knew what with the treasures.
All in all, they looked as defeated as Lottie felt. She collapsed on the sand with a huff; that must’ve been what true rock bottom felt like. She thought about her dad and if he’d be impressed by how low they had managed to go, like a true Routledge treasure hunter.
The only one with an ounce of positivity was John B, who bounced around the sand and shook his head as everyone pointed out every bad thing they had just gone through. Their asses were beaten, JJ almost died, Sarah was kidnapped by her crazy-ass family, the twins once again let down their dad ghost, and Pope had lost Denmark’s treasure.
“Guys, this is it!” he insisted, waving his arms around, gesturing to the island. “This is the Pogue life! We’re in the Caribbean, on our own slice of paradise, with each other. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else.”
No one budged from their somber attitudes, forcing him to continue. “Look, while you all were complaining a second ago, I was lookin’ at those burly lefts.”
Lottie glanced at the ocean’s waves kissing the shoreline before shaking her head. “We don’t have boards.”
“We can body surf until we make some.”
“Lame,” said Kie, but she couldn’t hide a growing smile on her lips.
Pope rose to his feet, dusting the sand off his shorts. “They do look pretty tasty. And there’s no one around; we could squat here for a while. It kind of belongs to us now, right?”
Seated on the sand, leaning against a tree, JJ said, in a ridiculous accent, “Poguelandia. I claim thee Poguelandia.” That brought the group out of their mood a little more, smiles growing slightly. “I like the ring of it. Oh! I’m gonna make a flag. It’s a gonna rooster on it, in honor of our fallen comrade, JB the third.”
Lottie laughed, feeling some of the sunlight start to pour into rock bottom once more. “Alright,” she said. “I guess we’re going full Pogue then.”
“What the hell is a Pogue?” asked Cleo. The group all looked around before nearly doubling over with laughter and another stupid sense of adventure buzzing in the air.
a/n: Rafe has his own place. Listened to the song "go to war" by nothing more and i think it fits this fic pretty well.
gif's not mine, creds to the original owner!
Rafe hated when you were at home. Your dad was a bad person. And that was lightly said. He knew from his own experience that parents sometimes weren’t really good at, you know, parenting. He called you every night to make sure you were okay and if you wanted to sleep over at his place.
So a few nights a week you stayed with Rafe. It was good to sleep while actually feeling safe and loved. You felt all warm and protected when your boyfriend's arms were around you, keeping you as close to him as possible. You were tired of staying up all night, too scared to go to sleep because you never knew how drunk your dad actually was and what he was up to. It was terrifying that the person who was supposed to love you the most hurt you instead.
When you were lucky, he was so drunk by the time you got home that he was passed out on the couch in front of the TV. But other times he wasn’t. And that’s when you had to deal with yelling, breaking dishes and furniture and on particularly bad nights even violence.
One night, when you hadn’t shown up at Rafe’s place on time, he got worried. He called you but you didn’t pick up. So he hopped in the car and drove over to your house. He was chewing on his lips, worry getting the best of him.
As soon as he pulled up to the house he noticed that the front door was wide open due to which he heard the yelling all over to his car.
Leaving the car running he ran up to the house, walked right in and followed the noise to the living room. Your dad was in the middle of the room while you were backed up into a corner, a chair in your hands raised as a defence against him. Your nose was bloody and it looked like there was a bruise forming on your cheek.
There was broken glass all over the carpeted floor, probably from beer bottles tossed around before he arrived.
“Get the fuck back! Don’t come closer!” you yelled at your dad, voice breaking.
“I can do what ever the fuck I want, I’m your dad.” He attempted to approach you but Rafe intervened, making himself known in the room. He stood between you and your dad, shielding you from his sight.
“Y/N, get in the car,” he said without breaking eye contact with your father who looked like he was about to explode from anger.
You quickly ran towards the door and Rafe’s car in front of the house.
“No, Y/N, get the fuck back here!”
Rafe swiftly grabbed your father’s throat, pushing him roughly against the wall. “You shut the fuck up before I tear your fucking throat out so you can’t say anything ever again.”
You sat in the passenger seat anxiously, leg bouncing as you couldn’t contain your nerves. You were too high on adrenaline, survival mode switched on, to even register what had just happened. One moment you were sitting on your bed reading a book and the other you were being dragged out of your room. You smelled the alcohol even before he grabbed you harshly, probably leaving behind a bruise in the shape of a hand.
Your dad had never hit you in the face before. It was always places you could cover up and hide. But that night was different for some reason. But you weren’t sure why.
Soon Rafe stormed out of your house and entered the car, immediately backing out of your driveway and speeding away. He looked like he had taken a beating as well.
“You’re hurt.”
“Doesn’t matter.” His both hands were on the wheel, knuckles white from the anger.
“Of course it does. You got hurt because of me. Because I couldn’t protect myself.”
The car came to a halt.
“Let’s get one thing straight, I’m not bleeding right now because of you, even though I would gladly bleed out for you. I’m hurt because your dad’s an asshole who can't keep his mouth shut and his hands to himself. And you’re able to protect yourself, I know you are. But he needed his ass beat for once and I would happily do it again anytime. You did nothing wrong. You got that?”
You nodded, a sob stuck in your throat that you didn’t want to let out. You weren’t weak, you could keep it together.
“Good.” He started driving again.
You turned your head to the other side, looking out of the car window and seeing the scenery you passed, white picket fence houses with happy families living inside.
You saw your own reflection in the window and wanted to break down crying. This girl was as broken as one could be. She looked small, helpless. You didn’t want to look like that, to feel like that.
Rafe parked the car and switched the ignition off and you left the car.
You walked in side by side. You gently slipped your hand in his in search for that comforting feeling he always provided for you. He lightly squeezed your hand in response as he unlocked the door with his other hand. He let you enter first so he could lock the door again behind you two.
As soon as you stepped into his home you finally let your emotions bubble up, explode. You sobbed as you leaned against the wall, sliding down onto the floor. You hid your face in your hands, embarrassed by your outburst.
“Hey.” Rafe crouched in front of you, softly pulling your hands away from your face and raising your chin so you’d look him into the eyes. You could barely see him through the tears pooling in your eyes.
“Let’s go get cleaned up. Is that alright?” His voice was quiet and soft. He hated seeing you like this but wanted to stay calm for you.
You nodded and he helped you off the floor and walked you to the bathroom. He helped you undress and then did so himself. Then you stepped into the shower together.
Gently, he cleaned the blood from your face and then put some shampoo in your hair and then massaged it into your scalp. It felt nice. You felt the hurt, the bad feelings moving to the distant corner in your brain as he rinsed the shampoo from your hair. He then handed you a sponge so you could wash your body as well while he cleaned himself up too.
When he had his head thrown back, rinsing his hair. You wrapped your arms around his torso and just hugged him. He was surprised at first but let you hold him nevertheless. When he was done with washing his hair, he hugged you back, his lips against your forehead.
Everything about it was very intimate but not in a sexual way but more of a spiritual way. Like you were connected on a different level. Like you were one.
“Wait here.” He let go of you and left the shower. Coming back a few minutes later, sweatpants on, he asked you to leave the shower as well. You stepped out and he handed you his clothes to put on, a t-shirt and some comfy shorts.
“Do you want something to eat?”
You shook your head in denial. “Can we maybe just watch a movie or something?”
He smiled softly. “Sure.”
So you cuddled up on the couch under various blankets and put on some movie you weren’t actually paying attention to. You tried but the thoughts in your head were moving 100 miles per hour which made it hard to focus on anything.
“I want you to move in with me.”
That tore you out of the storm that was going on in your head. “What?”
“Move in with me. Like right now. We can go pick up your stuff when your dad’s not there.”
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack, baby. I don’t want you living there with him. I want you to be here with me where you can feel free and safe. I want us to be able to sleep at night with one less worry. Will you? Move in with me?”
“Yes.”
You both smiled widely as the thought settled in. You were going to live together. Away from the shithead that was your dad. Away from the house that you didn’t have any good memories in. It made you happy. And the fact that you got to be next to Rafe every day and night made you finally see some hope for you. It was going to get better. Finally.
