#s4fixit

[laylap2003]

@fayedartmouth fix it— Nowhere to Stand (and Now No Where to Hide) is breathing life back into my heart.

Why couldn’t you have been in the OBX writer’s room!! Anyway…inspired me to work on my own fix it that is still very much a WIP:

This is a snippet of a flashback when the Pogue 100% believe JJ is dead (he is 100% not, of course).

The hospital hallway smelled like bleach and sand and blood. She was covered in it…John B was covered in it. Pope and Cleo and Sarah were covered in it.

JJ was covered in it, even as more and more spilled out of him.

She hadn’t breathed since it happened. Hadn’t breathed since they got him here.

She still wasn’t breathing now.

Kiara didnt breathe when she watched JJ’s body jerk once, violently and then gone still. The monitor above his head whined in a terrifying, final, flateline.

She could hear Pope gasp. She could feel John B slam his fish against the brick wall. She saw Cleo turn to him. She could see Sarah start sobbing.

And Kiara…

She felt her body tremble and her knees give out. And she didn’t breathe.

She remembers police yelling at them to stop. She remembers John B’s hands on her pulling her out into the hallway and out the hospital exit. She remembers the sun being too bright and the sand in her eyes as they ran.

Then reality kicked in. And Kiara cried. Fought. Scratched and punched at anything she could. John B’s arms as they held her down. Pope as he got in front of her, stopping her from running straight back to the hospital.

She screamed JJ’s name until her voice was gone. Screamed like it could bring him back.

But JJ wasn’t there anymore to scream back. He wasn’t anywhere anymore at all.

[laylap2003]

A snippet from a fix it that is a FAR way from being done…a true fix-it post S4 where JJ lives but the others don’t know it.

John B’s POV

He pressed the palm of his hand against his eye now, hard enough to see stars. He’d tried to stay busy ever since they’d left…manning the boat, checking the engine, counting rations, making sure no one jumped overboard even though he’s thought about it more than once.

Because everytime he looked at Kiara…curled up and silent, practically comatose…he felt it all over again. The sound, the smell of blood.

JJ going completely still.

That hit hardest…because the JJ Maybank he’s known since he was six years old was never still.

Not ever.

He was always jumping off something, climbing shit, starting fights, pushing buttons, pushing luck, pushing him. He moved like he was outrunning something…long before he was actually outrunning something. And the only time he ever even slowed down was to throw an arm around one of them and remind them who they were and that he loved them.

And now he was still.

Still and cold and alone and NOT HERE.

Dead.

God, JJ was dead.

John B bit down hard on his fist now, knuckles pressed against his teeth to stop himself from screaming out and scaring Sarah.

He thought he could keep it in. Keep it deep enough if he just kept steering, feeding Sarah, kept pretending like they were gonna just pull into Kildare, make it back home, and everything would magically be fine…he could outrun it just like JJ used to.

But he couldn’t.

He broke. Fully and completely.

It started with a sound he couldn’t hold back anymore, a half-sob, half-broken laugh, and then it was just him in the bunk, curled in on himself, shoulders shaking, fingers ripping at his hair.

The sobs came in hot, ripping, messy waves.

He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t see anything but JJ’s body. He couldn’t hear anything but the screams. He couldn’t smell anything but JJ’s blood. He couldn't feel anything but the pain.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over. “I’m sorry, bro. I left you. I left you. I left you. I’m so fucking sorry…”

He never got to say good bye. Never really got to say thank you for saving Sarah’s life. Never got to tell him he loves him one last time. Never got to bury him or bring him home. None of it. Not in the way JJ deserved.

He’d never see him again.

Never fight again. Never laugh again. Never surf or smoke or drive around in the Twinkie with JJ riding shot gun. John B would never get to make things right.

JJ was gone. And it felt like someone had carved a chunk of bone out of his chest and it hurt so bad it feels like a part of him got buried back there in that hospital too.