JJ has been awake for at least fifteen minutes. And he thinks he's putting it lightly, but he's been staring at Kathryn's back for a long time now and anything over fifteen minutes would be considered creepy at best, and he really didn't want that after last night.

Man, last night. He tries not to make any noise, leaning against the wall of the dead-quiet studio, but he thinks he fails. JJ is no innocent teenage boy, he had thought of and pictured and dreamed of kissing Kathryn, and he'd like to say that nothing could ever come close. Even if it was just kissing – he wouldn't dare ask for more, not unless Kathryn asks distinctively, without the shadow of a doubt, maybe several times to get the point across – JJ cannot for the life of him get the sight of her rosy cheeks, glazed eyes and bruised lips out of his mind. He'd go as far as to say the wait was worth it, which means a lot, considering their history.

Kathryn is painting. She's wearing his shirt – his shirt! – and he can see the light blue stains on it, but doesn't mind at all. She has two paintbrushes in her hair, one which is a bit bigger than the one she's using, and another with a finer point, stuck in a sort of half-do she does in the morning. She's wearing black bike shorts, and he can see more paint stains on her brown legs. The scene would be awfully cute, if not sickeningly beautiful with how the sun strikes her, but JJ knows from the way she holds herself – too tightly – and her paintbrush – knuckles becoming white – not to mention the fact that she's painting at... eight AM? Something is off.

The yellow bracelet sells it for him.

"You're freaking out," he says, voice gravelly from sleep.

She freezes for half a second, not expecting him to be awake this early, and just shakes her head, putting the paintbrush into a glass and turning back to him. She's painting, as far as he can gather from a quick sketch, a frog under a leaf in a storm. Anyone would expect something more gruesome for Kathryn Elizabeth Darcy. But no. Of course not.

"I'm not," she lies easily, turning to him. She looks soft in the morning light, even if he knows better. "I'm just thinking."

He groans. "Oh, that's always bad for me."

"Doesn't have to be."

He seems dubious, and just to prove him wrong, and maybe prove to herself that last night wasn't a dream, Kathryn walks over to him and winds her arm around his naked chest, closing the door with a kick of her heel. She rests her chin on his sternum, and blinks up blearily at him. Considering she isn't wearing her glasses, he must look like a pink – increasingly more red – blob with blue dots. She looks like the sun.

"Hello," she smiles brightly.

JJ isn't sure he's ever seen her so carefree. He absent-mindedly rubs the spot between her eyebrows, where lines are creased from frowning – again, she can't see – his other hand resting firmly on her hip as he grins back. "Hi."

"It's not you at all that's bothering me," she says.

She wants to make it abundantly clear that nothing JJ did last night and this morning is resulting in her caving in on herself. This always happens, whether they kiss or not, she has bad days. Today isn't so bad, as far as she can say right now, hence the yellow bracelet. She just... doesn't want him to initiate contact. Which he knows. That's the point of this colour.

"I mean, that'd suck for me..." he jokes, which is enough to ease some of her nerves. "I'd rather my girl not have a panic attack if I can help it, you know?"

Kathryn turns a pretty shade of dark pink and hides her burning face in his chest, feeling his laugh rumble through him. "You're not as funny as you think you are."

"Nah, I think I'm pretty good." He cups her jaw, until she looks back at him so she knows he's genuine when he says, "Just because we're together doesn't mean you have to force yourself, you know."

"I'd rather have my face hidden for this conversation."

"When I'm the one torturing you now? No way."

She scoffs, looking anywhere but his blazing eyes. "I didn't torture you."

He nods. "I mean, liking you was easy an' all, resisting you was harder than watching John B and Sarah lately."

She laughs in agreement, before her eyes widen. "Oh my god, we have to tell John B."

JJ makes a face. "Do we?" He kind of wanted to keep her all to himself.

"If only just to see his face," she says. "Then again, I'm half sure we'll walk through the door and he'll know."

He doesn't want to attribute any psychic powers to John B, but he has known both of them for a little over ten years, and has put up with that nonsense for months... There is very little chance that he doesn't already know.

"We have to tell Henry."

JJ goes pale. Deathly pale. In fact, he can see Death above Kathryn's shoulder, waving, telling him that hey, I'll be right back! and JJ knows that his time has come, goodbye everybody, this is it, lower the curtains.

Kathryn, though, is laughing so hard she can barely breathe, throwing her head back, JJ holding onto her waist so that she doesn't fall over.

"It's not funny," he immediately says.

"Oh, how the tables have turned."

"He'll kill me."

"He likes you!"

"He liked me, that was before I kissed you! Now he wants me dead."

"He probably doesn't even know."

"You're right. If he did, you'd be holding my corpse right now, KD, I'm so serious."

"I know you are, that's what makes it funnier."

She kisses his pouty lips and frankly terrified look on his face away, and she feels him melt into the kiss, until he smiles against her, almost bending her completely backwards as he hugs her waist to him, making her laugh. His mouth encompasses the sound, and JJ is almost ninety-nine percent sure he's never felt so happy. But of course, there had been last night.

However, because he knows Kathryn and how she evaded his previous question, he lets her go – very reluctantly, it needs to be said – and she frowns. The sight makes him want to throw the whole discussion out the window.

"You said it wasn't me that was bothering you, which, by the way, thanks? But what is it?"

The reaction is immediate. As if Kathryn was reminded that she was, somehow, doing something wrong, that there was something seriously rotten about her, she steps out of his arms, biting her thumb nail and going to get her glasses, trying to ignore the little voice telling her that she was just using JJ to forget about it.

"Sarah texted me this morning," she tells him, her back turned to him. "I mean, I guess we should have figured it out, but Rafe's out of jail. Ward pinned everything on himself and basically gave him another Cameron Free Pass."

JJ shuts his eyes tightly, a wave of anger and hatred hitting him, much as it always does when Rafe is mentioned. "Super," he grits out. "Can't he just be found dead in a ditch already?"

She gives him a half-hearted laugh. "No, because if he did, it'd be either you or me who put him there, and I personally don't think you'd look cute behind prison bars."

He shrugs. "I'd pull it off."

"Jay."

"Alright, sorry, sorry."

Kathryn doesn't want to dwell on it more than she already has. Rafe has enough influence on her life as it is, she isn't about to give him any more ammunition, so instead, she whirls around, walks past JJ, and pats his chest.

"Come on. Sarah also said she had to see us at the Château."

"The Château," he repeats dumbly, following her to her room and trying to be quiet. "Where all the rest of the Pogues are."

"Usually, yes," she says, throwing a pair of low cut dark jeans on her bed, as well as Henry's jacket – he hasn't asked for it back. "Why?"

"So just you, me, the fact that we kissed, and a room full of people who'd kill me if I did something wrong."

"Are you planning to do something wrong?"

She throws him his shirt and he nearly has a heart attack before he realises that she's wearing a tank top. "No, but I usually can't help it."

She shrugs. "I guess we'll see if you can pull off prison bars."

JJ doesn't find the thought as funny as he did a few minutes ago.

🐝

They don't hold hands when they walk inside the Château, but they might as well have. Kathryn adorned a pretty plain white button up shirt, JJ still has his clothes from yesterday. If the three others of the group seem particularly hungover – Kie is face down on the couch – John B springs up like his head isn't pounding.

His eyes narrow between the two of them. "So. You seem less tense than usual."

Kathryn makes a face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dunno, bug, what does it mean?"

She stares him down until he looks away, daring him to say anything as JJ fidgets uneasily next to her. He's so dead. However, and as it usually goes, it's Pope who suddenly raises his head in realisation.

"Oh my god, wait, guys. It happened?"

"Okay, how would you even know that?" Kathryn cries out, crossing her arms as JJ pushes Kie's legs and sits next to her.

She suddenly regains consciousness, fixing her beanie on her head. "Hold on, they're right?"

"Are there cameras in the Palace?" Kathryn goes on, nerves suddenly wracking her stomach. "Be honest. I'll be mad."

"They have a sixth sense," JJ says very seriously.

"They don't have a sixth sense."

"No, but there's a spy." John B shows her his phone. That idiot, bastard, cretin somehow got Billy's number. And Billy, oh so joyously, told him enough for him to guess what happened.

Ergo, "I'm dead," JJ says.

It seems to be what makes the rest of the group understand that yes, JJ and Kat did, in fact, kiss, and yes, they're together even if neither of them asked the either – seemed superfluous, considering everything – and months of petty arguments have been leading up to this, and Kie is the first one to shriek in joy before wincing and rubbing her temples, then comes Pope, who mutters a 'fucking finally' that earns him a glare from Kathryn, who didn't know he was equipped to swear.

Then John B clasps JJ's shoulder, and JJ sends Kathryn a look that's more of a cry for help, which only makes her smile.

"As your best friend, congratulations."

"Setting feminism several years back," Kie hums.

"I'm not a fair prize?" Kathryn says at the same time.

"I'm getting killed," JJ mutters.

"As her brother, I know where you hide your gun, and I've been to jail before."

"Noted."

John B then turns to Kathryn, and puts his other hand on her shoulder. "As your best friend–"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence."

"Okay."

The conversation quickly devolves to less serious topics, and Kathryn finds that not much has changed. She's sitting next to Pope, who's promising her for the hundredth time that he feels better than last night, that they'll have another opportunity, he's sure of it, and Kie is nodding along, and John B is making his usual quips. Except from time to time, she raises her eyes and they cross blue ones, and she finds herself smiling like an idiot.

Not much has changed, and everything has, and Kathryn realises that change isn't as scary when there's a blonde boy to hold her hand through it. There will be times when she won't think so, of course. They're both aware of it. The risk is worth it.

JJ suddenly whistles, looking past Kathryn and at the door. "Well, hello, hello."

Turning around, she spots Sarah, who's easy smile is fighting to stay on her face when she sees John B sprawled on his chair. Kie and Kathryn welcome her with grins and nice words. Pope barely acknowledges her presence, a bit too out of it.

"Shouldn't you be on Figure Eight with your little group of polo players?" John B is, as ever, ridiculously bad with words. Sarah makes a face. "Or did you break up with Topper?"

"We're just friends," she reminds him, walking over to Kie.

"But did it have to be Topper?" Kathryn hums mostly to herself.

JJ nods. "Out of everyone, Sarah Cameron, Frosted Tips isn't our first pick."

"He's just a friend," John B repeats. "She has a lot of friends."

She abruptly turns to him, fidgeting with her woolly white sweater. "Yeah, and it seems like you've got some of your own too."

Another look is exchanged between Kathryn and JJ. The latter blows out a loud breath that makes her snicker.

"All right, what are you doing here?" John B asks, sitting up.

"I'm here for Pope," Sarah sighs.

That's unusual. Pope perks up, tilting his head. She fidgets some more.

"I think I found the Island Room."

Pope blinks, straightening up now, much as everyone does, waiting with baited breath for what he'll say.

"That's almost as good as JJ and Kat kissing."

"Dude, what?"

"Pope, I'm going to need you to rewire your brain, babe."

A warm smile spreads on Sarah's face. "JJ and Kat what–"

"Let's just go."

🐝

Pope, sitting next to Kie in the back of the Twinkie, points to a page of Denmark Tanny's digitalised journal. "Guys, listen to this. The diary says the cross holds the most holy relic in all of Christendom, the Garment of the Savior."

"So, wait," Kie stops, confused. "He saying there's a holy garment inside the Cross?"

Kathryn frowns to herself, rummaging in her bag, elbowing JJ in the process. "My dad – stop whining, JJ, God – wrote something about it, I think." She quickly flicks through the pages. "Not about the Cross, but the Garment. Here, 'the Garment is said to be capable of healing the sick from any malady.'"

"Mmh, yeah." She turns to JJ. "'If only I may touch His Garment, I shall be made well.'"

Silence ensues, eyes falling on him. Kathryn blinks. "And you know that how?"

"I went to Sunday school."

She takes a deep breath, forcing herself not to say it was because his dad didn't want him around. "Well, in any case..." She looks back up at Pope. "I don't know about you, but I didn't particularly find Limbrey all that healthy. She probably thinks it can heal her, with all those freaky books she had back at her place."

Kie jerks her chin towards the journal. "What else does it say?"

"'Many feel that we have sinned to steal such a sacred thing,'" Pope reads on. "'And God will strike His vengeance on us.'"

Kathryn makes a face. "I mean, the Merchant did sink..."

"He sent a hurricane to sink the ship."

"Uh... I wouldn't go as far as to say God himself did it, but I'd admit it's freaky."

John B parks the Twinkie in front of Sarah's house. She promised Kathryn that Rafe wouldn't be home, and that helped, but Kathryn hadn't set foot in the Cameron's house since that night.

Kathryn hadn't thought about setting foot in the Cameron's house since that night, to be precise. Which is why she's stuck in place, staring and staring and staring. Her mother isn't here to lead her in, but she feels her shadow over her shoulder. She can see Ward's silhouette waiting at the door, and Rafe, a bit further in, pupils dilated.

No one thinks much of the place as they carelessly walk in, leaving her behind staring at the double doors, waiting for her knees to stop turning to mush and her blood to stop freezing and Ward's voice to stop ringing in her ears and Rafe's breath on her face and his hands on her–

"KD?"

She blinks back at JJ, suddenly noticing that he came back when he didn't see her walk in. "I'm fine."

"You don't lookit," he tells her, frowning.

She grounds out her words, trying not to bite the hand that holds her even if it sometimes looks like the one that hit her. She shoves back the urge to snap and cower in anger. It's JJ, it's not Rafe.

Not everyone has to be Rafe.

"Last time I was here..." She hates how her voice breaks and she shakes her head. "I think you know."

He didn't a minute before, but he does now.

"Can I do anything?" he asks.

She wants to scream her head off that she isn't a child that she doesn't need to be coddled, but she does, and JJ can see the dilemma on her face. She won't ask for help, because she doesn't know how to, because she never could.

He holds out his hand. She stares at it. "Say anything about this and you'll kill me, right?"

She said something along those lines when they were investigating Crain's house, a billion years ago. They'd been friends. Now they were more, and it made it easier to take his hand.

She stepped in the house with JJ.

Sarah leads them through corridors that Kathryn tries hard not to pay attention to. She knows, somewhere inside this house, there's a room that still holds a piece of herself inside of it. The kind she'll never get back, the room she'll never get out of.

"This place still freaks me out," John B says.

"Yeah, same," JJ agrees.

Kathryn sends him a look. "You've never been here."

"I know, I'm freaked out vicariously." He squeezes her hand. She forces herself to squeeze back.

Sarah stops in front of a room, and opens the door for them.

The first thought that grazes Kathryn's mind is thank god, this isn't that room. The second is what the fuck happened here? The wallpaper has been ripped out in places, and it would be concerning, if the walls underneath didn't expose paintings she couldn't help but find familiar. Islands, a lighthouse, a church...

If that's not the Island Room, she has no idea what is.

"You've got to be kidding me," Pope breathes out.

"Yeah, I know, right?" Sarah smiles. "It's the Island Room."

Kathryn shakes her head, blown away as she steps forward, this time leading JJ inside. Curiousness quickly replaces the latent feeling of anxiety, and she latches onto it. "Of course it'd be in Tannyhill, we're so thick."

"This definitely means something," JJ nods along, and she gives him a point for effort.

"Yo, this is a map of the whole island," John B suddenly realises, walking around the room, taking every detail in.

The lighthouse to her right suddenly gains new meaning as Kathryn hums. "That's gotta be Rixon's."

JJ uses their joint hands to point out the window. "There's the lighthouse."

"Guys, look," Kie calls out. "Parcel Nine and the well."

As John B turns around the room, finding landmarks after landmarks, Kathryn suddenly realises why the paintings looked so similar. She takes a copy from Denmark's digitised journal from Pope, who protests lightly, and brings it up next to what John B just called the surf break at Mase.

"It's Tanny's drawings," she tells Pope, who comes up behind her. "He painted the entire room."

JJ puts his hands on her shoulders, shaking her lightly. "Trust the artist on that!"

Kie seems less enthusiastic. "Yeah, question is why. What's he trying to tell us?"

"It's gotta have something to do with the key, right? Right?"

Kathryn shrugs, thinking. "Maybe. But we don't have the key anymore." But there are more pressing weird subjects at hand, such as, "Sarah, babe, how did you know to rip the wallpaper off?"

"I didn't," she answers. "It was like this when I got home."

"And that's not creepy at all!"

"Okay, then who did it?" Kie asks.

"I don't know."

"The freaks."

The group nearly jumps out of the bodies as Wheezie walks in the room, proud of herself for giving them a scare. She has the same impish smile as Rafe. Kathryn looks uneasy, blinking his face away.

"Wheeze!" Sarah chastises.

"Wait, what freaks are we talking about, Wheeze?" JJ has the presence of mind to ask.

The girl looks confused at how on edge they all seem. "Uh... that sick lady and her attack dog. They–they showed up last night and they wanted to talk to Rafe."

If Kathryn is already holding onto a chair around the table in the middle of the room, JJ shakes his head. "Wait. Pale blond lady?"

"Mhm."

"She have crutches?" Kie goes on.

Wheezie nods again.

Kathryn feels her stomach in her throat. There is no doubt as to who they were. "Rafe and Limbrey, that's my worst nightmare right there."

JJ rubs her back, jaw clicking. Trust jerks to flock together.

"What happened?" John B asks, a hard edge to his voice at the reminder of everything Rafe and Limbrey have taken from them.

"Well first they searched the whole house looking for something, and then Rafe told me to go upstairs." Kathryn ticks when she hears his name. She focuses on JJ's hands on her. "But I didn't wanna miss out, so I listened through the grate."

"And?" the Darcy girl presses, patience wearing thin.

"And they were talking about getting across the sand flamingo." Right. Technically, this makes no sense. But the way it sounds...

Kathryn stands up straight, almost hitting her boyfriend in the process. "What?" she cries out.

"That's code for something."

"No, baby, that's the Cross. The Cross of Santo Domingo?"

Wheezie nods. "Yeah, that's it. Oh, and they were talking about angels. A lot of angel talk. I don't know."

"Angels?" John B repeats.

His best friend, history nerd at heart, raised on stories of the Royal Merchant, immediately lights up. "Denmark's last words. He buried the real treasure at the foot of the angel! There's gotta be an angel in the room."

The group suddenly spreads out, becoming an overlapping of voices and cries.

"There's a church over here!"

"Yeah, check the church!"

"Could this be an angel?"

"That's a leaf, Jay."

"The lighthouse, maybe?"

"Maybe it's heat-sensitive!"

"Yes, because nineteenth century painters were experimenting with fluorescents before electricity was even invented."

"There's a cemetery..."

"Hey, yo!" Kathryn almost snaps her neck looking back at JJ. "Hey, guys, I think I found something. Come here." The room settles down, and they slowly walk to him. He's standing in front of a tree. "This humongous tree is still on Goat Island. You know what it's called?"

Kathryn doesn't have the faintest. Pope, however, "Angel Oak."

JJ's finger traces over the painting to the bark of the tree. "Look right there. There's the keyhole."

"Hold on," she says, looking at him, standing a bit too close for the other's comfort. "So the cross is buried at the foot of the angel – it's the foot of this tree? And you know where it is?" He nods.

Pope shakes her a little. "That must be where they are right now, we have to go!"

"I think I'm Sherlock Holmes, all right?" JJ cries out as they all rush out of the room. "You're welcome by the way."

Kathryn takes his hand, brings him down to kiss his lips until he's silent – braindead, actually –, and drags him out the house.

When she walks past the room, she doesn't notice it, because JJ's palm against hers feels too good to dwell on things lost in a fire that should have burned out years ago.

Author's Note: Everytime Kat makes any progress at all I turn violently sick