The drive back to Goat Island is surprisingly silent. As silent as it can be with JJ next to her, but even Kathryn has to admit that he is being awfully cryptic and into his thoughts. He's rarely silent about them, considering he tends to tell her every single thought that goes through his mind – she'd like to stress the 'every' part. It's quite something.

So when she stops the truck a bit further down the Twinkie – she'd like to avoid getting mud on Henry's truck as best as she can, as she likes to live – she turns to him, head tilted.

"You okay?" she asks, and his head snaps to her. "I'd get it if you aren't. Like, genuinely, me asking is genuinely dumb. But..." She fixes a strand of blonde hair. "Are you? Okay?"

He doesn't answer for a couple seconds, which is enough to worry her on a good day. Then, he grabs her hand, the right one, putting it on his lap. He takes off one of his rings, the big silvery metal band on his ring finger, and drops it in her palm.

She looks up at him. "Why...?"

"You stack jewellery but you're missing one on your thumb, I just kinda figured you'd want one," he rambles, blue eyes looking everywhere but her. "I'm spitballing again, you can tell me to shut it."

She laughs softly, and puts it on her thumb, like he asked. "When your spitballing doesn't involve getting thrown in jail, I don't mind. Thanks, Jay." She holds her hand up to her face. There's a small 'P4L' engraved in it. "I like it."

He scratches his temple. "You know, in case you forget between your gazillion dollar rings that you're kind of a Pogue, no offence."

She uses said hand to shove in his face, rolling her eyes. "I don't need a reminder for that, you tosser." She fidgets with the ring, still. "I really do like it, though. I'll show it off to John B when he's done murdering us for being late."

JJ groans as he opens the door. That's a fight he isn't ready for, at all, but luckily for him, Kathryn always is ready for one.

The reproaches start as soon as they come into view.

"Where the hell were you guys?"

Pope, John B, Sarah and Kie are sitting on the roof of the Twinkie. John B is lying across Sarah and Kie, looking like he might throw up any minute.

"Punching Luke in the face– why's John B half-dead?" Kathryn asks as JJ takes the winch out of the boot.

"John B got bit by a gator!" Pope angrily yells at them.

"Yo, what?"

"Like, for real?"

"Does it look like we're joking?" Sarah asks, pointing at the blood staining the roof of the Twinkie.

"What happened?"

"What happened? I got bit by a gator!"

"He got bit by a gator!" the three others say at the same time.

Kathryn scowls, hands gesturing every which way, panic coursing through her body. This is exactly why she hates splitting the group. Everytime they do something bad happens – they wouldn't survive in any horror movie, that's for sure.

"Why am I getting yelled at here – why aren't we already taking him to a hospital?"

"You're being yelled at because it was twenty minutes–"

"Aren't you supposed to have run track? You're fast!"

"You ran track?"

"Yes, in London – look, we could literally have not gone any faster!"

"Oh yeah, okay, real nice."

"John B got bit while you were frolicking–"

"Pope, put the big words away, whore."

"Stop calling us whores!"

"We are not whores."

"I don't mind, actually, but I do mind getting bit by a gator!"

"When you don't get him to a hospital, you're a who–"

"Shut up!"

The five arguing teenagers clamp their mouths shut. JJ stands there, out of breath from his scream, a sardonic smile on his face as he shakes his head. There's a billion thought coursing through his mind, starting with the fact that he'd like his family, his actual family, not to fight like the old one used to.

"Seriously guys, I can't take it anymore, all right? Everyone just cut it out for a second." He laughs, the kind of pitying laugh that chokes out like a sob. "Look, I just helped my dad leave this island for good. Like, he's not ever coming back. He's straight up like the Spanish, just, 'Bon voyage.'"

There's a very short silence.

Kathryn frowns. "Comment ça mon reuf?"

"That's not the right language," Sarah hums under her breath.

"All we got..." he goes on, ignoring them. "And I know for a fact all I got is you guys, okay? You're it." His eyes scan over Kathryn as he says it, not really realising it. "And I've come too close to losing you. All of you! I mean, shit, like Kie almost drowned. Pope, you were kidnapped. Kat somehow managed to do both. Sarah, you've been shot. John B, you were almost dinner for a freaking gator, bro. Real hoping KD doesn't decide to add those two to her bucket list."

She purses her lips. "Okay, that's not–"

"Look, what I mean is, this blaming each other is some Kook-ass bullshit, all right? We don't do that. Okay? We're Pogues." He blinks, like he just woke up from a trance. "Sorry, that was a lot right now. I didn't mean to..."

The group shares a look. This is heavy. Awfully heavy, for JJ, who'd always much rather hide everything he's thinking. So, slowly, and with a smile, they start to clap.

"Yeah, all right."

"That was hot."

"Well-done."

"I gotta be honest, that was the best freaking speech you have ever given," John B says.

Kathryn hums. "If we forget the fact that you keep mixing French and Spanish. They aren't interchangeable."

JJ flips them off, for good measure. His girlfriend laughs, shoving him softly.

Sarah raises her hand. "We should bon voyage out of here."

Getting the Twinkie out of the water isn't as hard as they expected. Neither is getting it to start again, as the group comes with a built in mechanic with low-waisted jeans. That last comment was motivated by JJ.

Still, the main idea is that they somehow manage to get to Freedman Church, John B leaning on Pope to walk.

Kathryn thinks the building hasn't been used since it was made, or very rarely. The paint on the walls is chipped, the door is covered in ivy, the smell of dust and mould hangs in the air.

JJ takes a look at the overall very small space. "Okay, you're telling me Denmark Tanny decided to hide the cross here?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Everybody, just spread out."

"Where, Kie?" Kathryn hums. "The six of us barely fit in here as it is."

"Okay, well, if I was a cross and wanted to be hidden in an old church, where would I hide?" John B wonders out loud.

The others do a lot of talking while Kathryn and Pope start to search (as best as they can), the latter with much more conviction, but the spirit is there.

"Are you sure that Denmark hid the Cross here? Like, are we at the right church?"

"Yes, Jay," Kathryn sighs. "Denmark built the place, I wouldn't be surprised if it's either over the Cross or if the Cross is somewhere in the walls."

He goes to the very small piano. "What if we have to push a secret button or, like, play, like, a... a certain chord, and then, all of a sudden, the ground beneath us reveals or something on which we stand?"

She blinks at him. "Are you high? Be honest."

"I'd rather stay JJ, if that's okay with you."

John B sighs. "How about we try to find obvious clues?"

"It's not an escape room," Kie adds.

Pope starts to run around the room, twitching a little, desperation running through his entire body as everyone else slumps over in defeat. Kathryn revises what she just thought, heart heavy. The Cross cannot be here, no matter how much the clues point to it.

"It's gotta be in here."

"Pope, the only place they'd be able to hide a giant Cross here is up Jesus' figurative butt."

"Kat, c'mon. There's no way. There's no way he would set us up on a freaking goose chase that would lead us to a Church that has nothing in it!"

Kathryn thinks the frustration must be tenfold, knowing Pope is Tanny's legacy, and, by all means, failing at it.

"I'm just saying that if it was here, we'd see it," she says, trying to keep an even voice. "Maybe it was just another step, another... another allegory, I don't know. What did he say again?"

He shakes his head. "The clues led us here. The Cross is in this church."

He walks past her, and straight onto a bench, dropping heavily on it. She sits next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. She's not sure what to say to make it better – the thought of disappointing her father, who so obviously also looked for the Cross, is heavy on her mind and might taint any words of reassurement.

"Pope, it'll be alright," John B tells him. "We've had setbacks in the past, and we figured it out. We're gonna find it."

She nods. "He's right."

Pope, still, stubbornly, gets the spyglass and unfolds it, looking around the room, wholly ignoring them.

"We've just gotta think about this logically, all right?" John B says. "Where else would you hide a seven-foot-tall Cross made of gold?"

"Up Jesus'–"

"No."

Next to Kathryn, Pope slowly lowers the spyglass, looking up at the beams of the church. Long enough for her to wonder if he's considering reorientation. Long enough to be weird, at least.

"What?" JJ calls from the other end of the church.

Pope doesn't answer, standing up, still staring at the beams. Kathryn frowns. Aside from a symmetry problem, she's not sure...

Oh. "Oh, my god. You're kidding me?"

The beams form a cross in the middle, and two on the sides. The ones on the sides are supposed to be symmetrical, otherwise it'd be a pretty obvious architectural flaw – but not the one on the left. It's bigger.

She'd say about seven feet tall.

Pope goes to a wall with crevices. Crevices he uses to climb. Up the wall. The wall with crevices.

"Pope."

"Hey, no!"

"Now Pope's climbing the wall!"

"Tarzan is doing my head in."

"Pope, this church is old."

Despite everyone screaming, Pope reaches the bottom of the first beam, the five others awkwardly gathered below him, as if they'd break his fall and not their own bones saving him.

"Yo, this church gots to be at least two thousand years old."

"More like a hundred and eighty."

"Thanks KD, real helpful."

"He's right though, Pope it's too dangerous." He grabs another beam, pulling himself up. "Pope!"

"Let me just be real!" JJ cries out again. "You're not the most coordinated person on planet Earth."

"Oh, and that's helping?"

"Pope, that's rotten as shit, okay?"

He doesn't listen, and perches himself hugging the middle cross, slowly going around it to the one he's after, all the while ignoring the others completely.

As he does, Kathryn catches a glimpse of a light brown conic shape in the corner of the central cross.

"Uh... Pope, be careful. There's a wasp nest above you. Wasps aren't bees, they're little stinging cunts, okay? They've been here since the Jurassic, they're like entitled white folks and spread everywhere."

"Can you please stop giving us a lesson on wasps?" John B asks. "Pope, just move slow, all right? Nice and easy."

Hugging the main cross, Pope kicks at the other one. A chunk of wood comes out, narrowingly missing the others.

"It's hollow," he breathes out. "Go get me a crowbar!"

Sarah nods, going to get it.

"Pope?" Kathryn calls out, worryingly crossing her arms. "What's the plan, we throw it at you and hope you catch it?"

"I don't want this entire church to collapse on top of us, that's all I'm saying."

"No, JJ, those side crosses are decorations," she says. "The main one holds it up, with the beams running along the roof."

"You are such a nerd."

Sarah comes back with a little wrench before they get into a screaming match. Pope awkwardly crouches down as best as he can. "Throw it."

"Oh, for real?"

"Watch your heads."

Sarah's throw, if a little off to the side, has the benefit of not blinding anyone. Pope moves, right under the wasp nest, which John B reminds him about.

Pieces of wood fall as Pope starts to hammer down. Chunks big enough to let through sunlight hit the ground. The sun, in return, casts golden hues around them, reflecting on something.

"You're shitting me."

"You guys see that?"

Pope breaks another piece, and reveals a huge, golden plated, diamond encrusted Cross. Santo Domingo's Cross.

For a few seconds, the group erupts in laughter, hugging each other, laughing at the fact that they not only once, but twice found hidden treasure on their island, with the incredible mention that this time, no one is shooting at them.

"Holy shit!"

"We did it!"

"We did it again!"

"I never doubted you!"

"I thought you were crazy!"

"We did it!"

And then Pope starts to swat around his head. "Okay, they're stinging now. Ow!"

The wrench falls down heavily, almost causing a head injury in the process. The Pogues repeat to him to keep steady and calm and stop flailing so much because they'll get angrier and he's also several feet in the air.

And he loses his balance, feet dangling.

"Cushions!"

"Move the pew!"

They run around, getting cushions from the benches, moving furniture – they barely have enough time until Pope falls heavily on the ground, his fall thankfully broken by the cushions.

"What is it with you and falling these days?!"

"Are you good?"

"Anything broken?"

"You did not tuck and roll, that's for sure."

"JJ–"

Before Pope can answer any of them, he hurriedly rolls to the side, everyone suddenly raising their heads to see the Cross falling straight onto them. Kathryn grabs Pope's coat, tugging him with her.

The Cross lands on the cushions, breaking the floor.

"Pope, you okay?" Kathryn asks, his head on her knee, replacing her glasses on her face.

He nods a little. "Yeah, I'm good. Just give me, like, one second, to, like, catch my breath."

She pats his shoulder, nodding, not moving. The others gather around them, telling him that he did it, touching the Cross. Kathryn is burning to touch it, to watch the designs, as JJ says that the details are insane and that they should let the artist take a glance.

Kathryn helps Pope up, frowning concerningly at him. His face... doesn't look good, and though he's not her type, he's not usually that puffy.

"Like, if we melted her old bones down, dude, I'm talking like high billions."

She scoffs, turning to JJ for a second, the sheer audacity enough to snap her out of her worried daze. "First off, it's Pope's, second off, if it wasn't it'd be in a museum."

John B nods, clicking his fingers at her. "In a museum? Where no one sees it?"

She stares. "No, in a museum where everyone sees it, you idiot."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Hey!" Pope cries out, bringing back the attention to him. "It's my ancestors' Cross!"

Kathryn blinks. He's definitely not that puffy.

"Okay, okay, well..."

"This is bigger than money, and the world's gotta know the truth."

"Pope, babe..."

"Yes, and if we don't get this shit outta here before Limbrey gets here, nobody's gonna know," John B reminds them. "So saddle up."

Pope pushes himself off of Kathryn, who winces when he digs in the muscle, but helps him up. Her concern spikes when he painfully shakes his hand. "Pope–"

The others are already shouting to each other about carrying the cross, Pope joining despite Kathryn hovering around him like a helicopter parent, not touching the Cross.

"Pope, I'm serious, sit down, you're–"

He slouches against her, knocking the wind out of her as she catches him, the others screaming as the Cross escapes their hands. Kathryn doesn't care all that much. Pope's face is getting worse, and so are his hands.

"Damnit, yo, you almost dropped it on my foot!"

"'Cause I'm the only one lifting it!"

"Oh, you sure–"

"Shut up!" Kathryn cries out. "You– Pope looks like a fucking turtle right now, refocus!"

"Pope?"

"Your eye, it looks all puffy."

"You good? You don't look too good, bro."

"I can't–" Pope takes in a deep breath, air lodged in his throat.

"He's having an allergic reaction."

"How many times did you get stung?"

Pope passing out might be the answer.

When he's awake again, they hurriedly carry him out, leaving JJ to hide the Cross, Kathryn lifting Pope onto the backseat of Henry's truck, lying down with his legs propped against the seats, damn the leather, the others piling up in the front seat and the cargo bed.

"Pope, what do you need? What do you need?" JJ cries out as he runs up to them.

Pope mimes a shot of epi-pen. "He needs a lullaby– what the fuck do you think he needs?"

"I know where to go, give me the keys!"

"What?"

"Just give me the keys."

Kathryn hesitates for half a second. She barely lets anyone touch her own car, so Henry's? She throws JJ the keys.

He drives in a way that would make her proud if she wasn't checking Pope's pulse every two seconds, screaming at him to hurry up. If they lose Pope to anaphylactic shock, she's going to go insane, she's going out on the streets and setting OBX on fire.

JJ stops the car in the middle of the road, and they all spring away, John B helping Kathryn carry Pope, who keeps wheezing and drooling and sounding like a busted car.

"Ricky!" JJ screams at the screen door. "Ricky, hey, I got a problem, bro! I know you're mad at me!"

Ricky, in his panties, screams back. "Remember that time you stole my ambulance?" Ah. Ricky, JJ's cousin with the ambulance he stole to break John B out of jail. That's going to go nicely.

"Yeah, I know, I know, I know you're mad!" Ricky slams the inside door shut. "No!"

Everyone screams, but Kathryn scowls, and hands Pope to Kie, stomping up to Ricky's house, taking her leather jacket off and bunching it up around her hand.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm breaking the window."

The door flies open. "Do not break my window!"

"Then help my friend!"

By the time Ricky had opened it again, Pope was up to the door, sounding like a chimney train. "All right, Jesus Christ."

"Awfully fucking nice of you," Kathryn shoves past him, while Sarah tells him it's nice to meet him.

They throw everything that's on the table on the ground, and lay Pope on top of it.

"You know, I wouldn't come to you if it wasn't an emergency!" JJ cries out.

"What's wrong with him?!"

"Wasps!" the six of them chorus, hovering over Ricky and Pope.

"Wasps? Is he allergic to wasps?"

"No, he just ate some. Fucking obviously!" Kathryn cries out.

John B and JJ raise his legs, keeping the circulation going.

"What's his name?"

"Pope."

"Hey, Pope?" Pope wheezes. "Hang tight, I gotta get my kit."

"Hang tight? He's fucking dying on the table–"

Kathryn follows with JJ on her heels, not sure if he wants to stop her or see what's happening.

Ricky, in his bedroom, stares at the closet. Kathryn grows red in the face. "Where's the kit?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't be looking!"

"Are you serious?"

Kathryn shoves past him again, opening the closet wide open, throwing clothes every which way.

"JJ, can you tell your psycho friend to stop brutalizing me?"

"What does your fucking kit look like, Dora?"

Ricky's eye twitches as he jogs back to the living room. "A duffel bag!"

Kathryn's nose wrinkles up as she rummages through very clearly not clean clothes, before she hears him from the other room saying that he found it, the pair rushing back inside.

"What do we do now?"

"You don't do anything 'cause you're not a paramedic."

Kathryn gulps taking a stepback, clasping her hands on her thigh. "Please don't die, please don't die."

Kie stands away, holding her face, tears rolling on her fingers as Ricky takes a syringe out.

"Okay. Hey, Pope. How you doing, man? You look like shit." He looks up at the teenagers around the table. "Here's the thing. This is a pediatric dose of epinephrine."

"Is that gonna be enough?" Sarah asks.

"He's not a kid!"

"It is ten times a normal dose." Oh. "So if... if it doesn't stop his heart, it'll help him."

"If it doesn't what?"

"I gotta use the whole thing, or it won't work, and I'm not going down if he dies."

Kathryn opens and closes her mouth, chest heaving, as JJ hurries Ricky to stab Pope. She can't focus on anger, she has to find something else, she has to keep a cool head, because this is bad, this is horrid. When Ricky stabs Pope, she shuts her eyes tightly, burying her head in JJ's chest.

"Okay, that's it."

"Now what?" Sarah asks in the eerie silence.

"Now we wait."

The seconds tick pass slowly, Steve Harvey playing in the background not at all helping anyone's nerves.

Nothing happens. Pope is barely breathing. Kathryn's hands shake over him, like she was trying to shield him from something – pushing him behind her like when they were kids and he was getting picked on. What was she protecting him from now? Pope is barely breathing.

Kathryn raises her eyes to Ricky, tears blurring her vision. "You killed him?"

"I didn't do shit."

"What did you do?" Kie cries out next to her.

"I did exactly what you–"

Kathryn jerks forward, nails ready to dig in Ricky's skin, JJ swiftly looping an arm around her waist, all the while screaming at Pope to just wake up.

Pope can't die. It's... out of everyone in this group, Pope can't die. Pope has to go to dead people school, Pope has to become a doctor and tell other people that corpse shit when they die and oh my god, is Pope going to–

He sucks in a breath, head jerking up. He starts coughing, and standing up, panting, face slowly swelling down. They stare at him for a minute, not sure how to act, considering they're all teary-eyed and ready to get murdered by Heyward.

"Is this the Second Coming?"

"There he is. That's my boy right there!"

JJ's boy starts stripping off his clothes. "I gotta get outside."

"Uh... you should sit down, you were dead two seconds ago."

"Simmer down."

"Take a second!"

"I need to get outside."

Pope starts running out, the others following, JJ and Kathryn last. JJ, to thank his cousin. Kathryn, to make sure he doesn't. That guy doesn't deserve anything – 'I'm not going down if he dies' excuse me?

"I owe you," JJ tells Ricky.

Kathryn takes his hand and almost drags him out. "He almost killed Pope, you don't owe shit."

Ricky is already lighting a blunt to forget all this. "You almost clawed my face off, who even are you?"

She scowls, hand twitching to do it again. "I'm the one who's going to shove the wasp nest up–"

"She's my girlfriend, which I'm guessing is going to make family reunions awkward."

There's a short silence. Ricky's eyes fly between the two teenagers. JJ's joy at his friend's not-death is evident. Kathryn's anger at his cousin's behaviour is the tiniest bit scary. He figures that he doesn't want to go to said family reunions.

He closes his eyes. "Look, Pope's going to have a rocket up his ass for half an hour, then he'll be fine."

He slams the door in their faces. Kathryn turns to JJ.

"Would you hate me if I killed your cousin?"

He tilts his head back and forth. "It'd make Christmas weird, that's for sure."

Speaking of, their Second-Coming of the Christ is very, very high. "Let's go get that cross! Whoo!"

They turn around to face Pope, doing circles around John B, Kie and Sarah.

For someone who was dead two seconds ago, he seemed okay enough. He circles back to Kathryn and JJ, standing there, mouth agape, and takes the girl in his arms, almost shoving her on his shoulder despite her screams, running to the truck.

"Pope, put me down!"

"Game six! I'm Michael Jordan!"

"Pope!"

Author's Note: PopeKat you mean the world to me...