XXXVI.   if we have each other

JJ Maybank loved Dylan Jennings. It was a platonic friendship but there was no doubt they were soul mates, twin flames, if you must. She got him and he got her. She was always the first person to offer him a place to stay when his dad went on his drunken rampages. She was a kind soul, a gentle person, and along with John B, they were like brothers and sister.  JJ always wanted a sibling. He trusted the girl with his whole life. He cursed the world for giving him the short end of the stick with a shitty father and a runaway mother, but he never had to worry about Dylan leaving him.

She sat on the couch with him as he slept off the drunken state he was in. His bruises were on display and she couldn't stop looking at them. The tears from before stopped but they reappeared again and she closed her eyes, feeling them slide down her face.

Pope walked inside and saw her silently crying.  "Hey," he spoke quietly to not wake JJ up. "I-I know it's probably stupid to ask, but. . . are you okay?"

Dylan breathed out a laugh and opened her eyes, wiping away the tears. "Um, I know I should say yes,  but, no. No, I'm not okay." She admitted.

He watched her stand up from the couch and walk into the kitchen. He quickly followed her. "Hey, hey. . ."

She covered her mouth with her forearm as she felt a cry come out. "I'm just–I'm so tired of acting like everything's okay. I'm tired of being fake." She whimpered out.

Pope walked towards her. "D, you're not fake—"

"But I am," she whisper yelled and turned to him, her brown eyes shining with tears. "I have been acting like this perfect girl my entire life because I live on the rich side of the island. I-I've done everything by the book my entire life and I. . . I don't know it's not enough."

Pope reached forward and gently grabbed her arms.  "Dylan,  I. . ."

When he paused, she continued. "And I. . . I-I feel like I can't even live in my own body because I feel so uncomfortable. I can't even tell my parents that's I'm scared to walk by men because I'm afraid of what they're thinking of me. I-I-I feel violated all the time and I can't stop thinking about. . . I can't stop thinking about Barry and that gun. I-I—" she couldn't catch her breath. Tears streamed down her face.

She broke down and Pope quickly hugged her,  wrapping his arms around her waist tightly. She cried into his neck. "What is wrong with me?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing," he whispered to her,  feeing himself grow sad. "You are so great, Dylan. You're better than any of us. You have to know that. There's nobody in the world than can even come close to you."

She slowly lifted her head and looked at him, her eyes lashes wet with tears. They were close, really close. His arm remainder wrapped around her waist and he used the other to wipe the tears from her face, the hand lingering on her cheek. He noticed everything about her. Her freckles, the birthmark on her temple, the color of her eyes, the lines around her mouth, and he found himself staring at her lips.

They both felt the thrill of ecstasy in each other's arms. They fit together so perfectly. They always have. Nobody dared to try and get in the middle of what Dylan and Pope had because nothing could come close to them. All Pope could think about when he looked at her was that she was so beautiful, but not like the girls he saw walking around on the island. She was beautiful for the way she thought, beautiful for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about the things that she loved, beautiful for her ability to make other people smile even when she was sad. It was a perfect moment, the moment he had been waiting for.

But when she started to lean in, going up on the tips of her toes, Pope's stomach shifted. His mind and body were battling each other. At the scared feeling, he pulled away and closed his eyes when he realized his mistake. "Dylan, I. . ."

"I'm sorry." She quickly said and stepped back, sniffling again.

"No, no, I—"

"I should, uh, I should get going." She interrupted again and nodded her head, embarrassment creeping on her cheeks. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah." He muttered with a slight nod. He watched as she left the Chateau and he shut his eyes tightly. "Fuck!"

Dylan sat with JJ by the hot tub with her toes dipped in the water. She hadn't spoken to Pope since what almost happened in John B's kitchen. She didn't know what to say. They were in the heat of the moment, that was all. Right? They were best friends since middle school. Their friendship couldn't be ruined by something so small as a kiss.

But as she watched him and Kiara figure out the plan to get the gold from the well, she frowned because there was a part of her that wished he didn't pull away that night. She was confused.

"I can smell the sexual tension between you two from Mexico." JJ commented.

She slapped his chest. "Shut up."

He chuckled. He had been feeling better since last night. He slept off the alcohol he indulged and he asked them not to talk about what happened. He recognized his mistakes. He didn't want to dwell on it. "Hey," JJ spoke, deciding to say one more thing. "Thanks for last night."

Dylan looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"Since we were little, you've always known how to make me feel better. You got a magic touch or some weird shit." He laughed lightly. "But, uh, i'm grateful for you even if I don't act like it sometimes. I'm sorry for how I acted."

She shook her head. "I understand, J. We all cope differently with our emotions. I just wish you had told me how bad it was getting."

JJ nodded. "I know, I'm sorry. I guess I was just. . . I don't know, embarrassed. I didn't want you to think I needed help."

She wrapped her arm around his shoulder. "I will always be here for you, J. It doesn't matter if I hate you one day or not. The spare room at my house is always open."

JJ smiled at her. "Thank you, DJ."

John B still wasn't back from fishing with Ward. It had been nearly a full day since he left. 

"John B pulling a Houdini."

"Yeah, where is he?" Pope asked. "I got my scholarship interview tomorrow morning. We gotta get this done."

Dylan opened her mouth to respond but stopped when she saw John B walk into the backyard. "There he is,  speak of the devil! Where you been?" She hollered

"Hey, dude, I set up the entire winch to pull up the gold and everything." Said JJ.

"No, he did not. I did that." Pope denied.

John B ignored them and continued to walk, causing them to grow confused. "Hey, John B," Kiara called out. 

"Okay, that's it?"

"Uh, what's that all about?"

"God, can we not have one normal day?" Dylan groaned and got down from the hot tub.

They walked inside the Chateau and saw John B rummaging through the drawers and cabinets. "You all right, man? What's–What's up?" Pope asked, standing behind him.

"What are you looking for?" Kiara asked but got not response.

Dylan stepped forward. "Hey, JB, what happened?"

"Bro, what's going on man?"

John B pulled the gun out from behind the couch cushion and Dylan froze. "John B, what do you need the gun for?" JJ quickly asked,  stepping forward.

"Just—No!"

"Talk to us!"

"John B, chill!"

John B shoved JJ on to the couch.

"John B, stop!"

"What are you doing?"

"What, are you JJ now?"

He pushed Pope backwards and he collided with the table. "Stop!" Dylan shouted and grabbed the boy's arm. "John B—"

Without thinking, John B shoved her backwards and she fell to the floor.

"Hey!" Kiara shouted again and rushed forward,  helping her off the floor. "John B, what the hell are you doing?"

"Are you okay?" Pope quickly asked her.

"I'm fine." She brushed it off and followed them outside. "John B, what the hell? Not cool, man!"

"Ward knows about the gold!" John B finally spoke when he got on JJ's dirt bike. He turned his head around. "He killed my dad."

Dylan's blood went cold. "W-What?"

He took off on the dirt bike, leaving them there in complete shock. "John B!" Kiara shouted and followed him.

"W-What the hell is going on?" Dylan stuttered with anxiety. "W-What does he mean Ward killed his dad?"

The day had passed and it grew dark outside. While everyone else went home, Dylan stayed at the Chateau. She was worried sick. She had known Big John her whole life and the mystery of his disease affected her. Now,the rumors of his death were true,  and she wasn't going to let John B be alone.

She had fallen asleep waiting for him. When the door slammed shut, she opened her eyes and saw John B.  "Pope? Kie? DJ?" He shouted when he walked inside the house. "Hello?"

"JB?" She called out from the living room. 

John B paused when he saw her and his immediately broke down. "You're here."

"I'm here. I'm here." She confirmed and swiftly got up from the couch. She ran forward and hugged him tightly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you." He cried out and held onto her.

"It's okay. It's okay," she quickly said. "W-What did you mean earlier? Ward, he-he killed your dad?"

"H-He killed him, Dylan. They were working together to find the gold. Ward, he–he killed my father because he wanted the gold for himself. He knows about the gold, D."

Dylan felt sick and she held onto the boy tighter. "Oh my god. JB, i'm so sorry."

"Please don't leave."

"I'm not leaving. I'm here. I promise."

"I-I-I," he stuttered. "I need to do something. I-I don't know—"

"Hey, hey," she stopped him and pulled away so she could look at him. "Breathe, okay? In and out. In and out."

John B followed her breathing movements until he felt his heart start to settle. He walked out of the living room and she followed behind, seeing that he was going to his room. He opened the door and immediately started to cry again. His room was filled with pictures of his dad.

Dylan stayed by the door and he sat on his bed and took a picture of his dad off the wall. "I miss you." He cried with a shaky voice.

The girl wiped away her own tears and felt her heart squeeze. She walked into the room and sat beside him on the bed. "What do you want to do, JB?"

The crying boy glanced at her, back at the picture, and then back at her. "I-I. . . He needs a send off. A proper one."

She smiled encouragingly and rubbed his back.  "That's a great idea. I'll help."

For the next hour, Dylan helped John B make a makeshift boat and he put the picture of his father inside. Together, they walked down the path of the dock and sat by the water. John B pulled a lighter from his locket and touched the flame to the picture, the flames forming quickly.

Dylan teared up again and she watched the picture burn. "Wherever you are, just know that I miss you,  Big John." She spoke sadly.

"Goodbye, dad."

They watched the slow moving ripples take the sent off away, and Dylan laid her head on his arm. "I'm so sorry, John B."

He laid his head on hers. "I love you."

"I love you."

They were each other's home. Their bond was something that would last forever, and the only bright side to the situation that she could think of was that John B now finally had closure. Even if it wasn't good,  he knew, and he didn't have to worry himself sick about if his father was still out there or not. He had a family. He had Dylan, his sister.  Her parents. He had the Pogues. A found family that would last forever.

The sky was orange when she woke up the next morning, the sun reflecting off the water. She lifted her head and realized that she had fallen asleep on the dock, John B asleep across from her. She frowned deeply, remembering the previous tragedy. Dylan groggily sat up and it cause John B to stir awake also.  He opened his eyes and saw the open outdoors and then Dylan with her back against the wooden dock.  "You didn't leave." He muttered when he realized.

"I'd be a shitty friend if I did." She grinned and brought her knees to her chest.

John B sat up and leaned his back against the dock as well. "Thank you for last night. I-I really needed you here."

She smiled softly. "You know it's always going to be you and me. Since diapers, remember?"

"Of course." He nodded with a light smile.

Dylan watched the rippled water in thought. "Do you think my dad should know?"

His face fell and he watched the water as well. "He deserves to." He answered.

"About Ward, too?"

"You think he would believe us?"

"I don't know," she admitted with a shrug. "But they were best friends. He's always wondered if he was alive or dead, too. I think he should know."

John B nodded, agreeing. "You're right. You should tell him."

Dylan checked her phone and saw what time it was.  "Shit. My parents are going to kill me. I was wanting to wish Pope good luck on his interview today. . ."

"Go," he told her while motioning his head. "There's something I gotta check out."

Dylan stood up from the doc and collected her things.  "If you need me, please come and find me, okay?"

He smiled again. "You got it."

She walked up to him and leaned down, kissing the top of his head. "Love you, Bird." When she stood back up,  her eyes went wide. "Oh, shit, i'm—"

"It's okay." John B chuckled. "Someone's gotta keep that nickname alive."

"I'll find a new one. Promise." She said and waved him goodbye before running off the dock. 

When Dylan got home, her parents were sitting at the kitchen table. When they saw her, she stopped them before they could say anything. "Wait,  please, please before you say anything, there's something I have to tell you."

An angry Logan Jennings leaned back in his chair, his eyes going to his wife. Ainsley looked at him and then at their daughter. "What is it?"

Hesitant, Dylan walked to the kitchen table and pulled out the chair by her dad. She put one of her hands over his. "Daddy . . ."

Logan Jennings was a strong man. He worked his ass off for his family but he never did let the money go to his head. Everything he did was for his family. But there were times when he thought about his old life before moving to Figure Eight. He was a Pogue. He was born a Pogue. He knew exactly why his daughter chose the Pogue life instead of their life on Figure Eight and that's why he was so worried. All that he wanted was to make sure his family had a good life but that didn't mean he didn't think about all the great times he shared with his Pogue friends, especially Big John Routledge.

When the words of his death came from his daughter, those memories crashed and his insides burned. Ainsley covered her mouth and let out a cry. Dylan was teary eyed as she watched her parents fall apart, but her father didn't say a word. He only stood up from his chair and walked upstairs. Dylan walked around the table to her mom and hugged her tightly, the woman's cries echoing in the house.