Kathryn stares at the clock. Three AM. It's almost taunting her, she thinks. Because she needs sleep, after what happened at the salvage yard. Even if it's only half a second. Instead, she gets a lousy playlist of her worst moments on a loop. The latest hit is what she said to JJ.

She knows deep down that it's fair. How he reacted. An eye for an eye – she gets it. She would've done the same, truthfully. It doesn't sting any less. But maybe it's for the better. No one would know her secrets now, because there was no one to care about them. Or her, for that matter.

It's how it was meant to be anyway, right? Just her. No Pogues, no John B. No JJ. That's why she keeps people away. That's why she lets the anger win. It's easier. And she wanted this, didn't she? She's not sure.

There's a knock on her window. She half expects JJ to be throwing rocks at her window, so she's not exactly eager to open it. Or she is, a bit too much. She hasn't decided yet.

Another knock, and she closes her door before opening the window with a sigh. John B's standing in the yard. She looks around. She can see the Twinkie, but nobody's inside. He came alone. She's almost disappointed. Relieved. She wishes this was less confusing at least.

Still, she's not particularly ecstatic. He probably wants a little heart to heart. "Oh Romeo, Romeo, could you please stop screwing around and go?"

He laughs a bit too loud – Henry might hear it. "Juliette, let down your hair!"

She stares at him. "Mate, that's Rapunzel. What the fuck?"

"I'm sorry I'm not a nerd."

"What do you want?" she asks, cutting the discourse short. "Because I'm not in the mood to talk, it's three AM. Unless of course, you want to tell me you're hiding something again?"

John B nods thoughtfully, because he's used to her sarcasm by now, and knows answering it gets him nowhere. "Now that you made your point, can I make mine?"

"Depends," she retorts, raising an eyebrow. "Are you actually hiding something else from me?"

He takes out a small cardboard box. "Only flour for the pancakes."

She considers him for a second. She fights the smile that grows on her lips. "You do know I have my own flour, right?"

"Yeah well, yours is not as good as mine."

"John B, we have the same flour. It comes from Heyward's."

"Let the guy in!"

Kathryn leans forward to see, one floor below, Henry opening a window.

"Hi mister H–"

"Just get in," Henry grumbles. "Some of us are trying to sleep."

He closes the window, not without sending Kathryn a warning glance, as if she'd do anything. She looks down at John B.

"Can you please just let me in?" he asks, dancing on his feet. "I want pancakes, okay." She rolls her eyes.

She's still angry, yes, but John B didn't do anything to her, did he? It wouldn't make sense to yell at him and drive him away. Besides, Henry already invited him in.

She closes the window, ties her hair into a ponytail, and almost runs down the stairs. She schools herself before she answers the door. If John B thinks she's happy to see him, she won't hear the end of it.

But Kathryn is happy to see him. He always used to play middle man when her and JJ got in a fight. He's a great listener, because he never questioned the rage. He accepts it for what it is; a part of her. It's always been like this.

She opens the door, and lets John B in. She gestures for him to stay silent, and leads him towards the kitchen on the last floor – it's smaller, and further away from her uncle. He's already pissy enough as it is.

She closes the door behind him once he's in, and leans against it, eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to talk about it."

"Noted."

"I mean it."

"Okay." He sets the flour on the counter, and turns to her with a smile. "What makes you think I'm interested in anything else but pancakes?"

She snorts. "My bad."

"Do you have Max's recipe?"

"It's the very reason I keep him around," she says. "That and he's absolutely stellar, but you know."

She gets out of the drawers a mixing bowl, a whisk, a big spoon and a ladle. John B, already knowing where the ingredients are stored, sets them next to the flour on the counter. Once everything is out, they wash their hands.

He turns to her with a giddy smile. "Okay," he says in a sing-song voice. "So, what do I do first?"

Kathryn sits on the counter, looking at her friend with amusement as she tells him the steps. He listens, cautious and almost religiously making sure everything is okay. If he messes the pancakes up, she's half sure he'll cry.

"Hey, I said an egg, not two," she tells him. "Have you been doubling everything?"

He shrugs, beginning to mix. "What can I say, being on a treasure hunt makes me hungry. Besides, I'm a growing boy."

He turns around with the bowl in his hands, a huge smile on his face. She blinks, and he's ten, holding the same mixing bowl, flour in his hair.

She laughs. "Whatever you say, bee."

His eyes blow wide, and his smile grows even wider when she realises that the nickname slipped. "Bug, you have no idea how hard I worked for you to call me that again."

To be fair, much like the story of why he calls her bug, it's kind of stupid. He's allergic to bees and, for the longest time, Kathryn thought his middle name was bee. She thought it was funny, and it stuck.

"You're so dramatic."

"You're one to talk."

"Point taken."

She swings her feet in the air, sighing. She's usually an early sleeper. She should be up in about three hours now. Lately, she wasn't able to go to sleep because she was out grave robbing, amongst other things. Or, like tonight, torturing herself with things that could have been said or done better.

John B seems to know what she's thinking about. Somehow, he always does. "You know, back there, it got pretty ugly."

She glares at him. "Don't give me a reason to throw you out."

He sets the mixing bowl next to her, and holds up his hands. "I'd never. Not until after I've eaten, at least."

She rolls her eyes, and looks at her feet. She doesn't know why it's so easy to let John B in and not the others. In fact, it's easier to let anyone in as long as it's not JJ. "Yeah, I don't wanna talk about it. I don't... John B, I'm friggin' pissed."

Immediately, he discards everything about the pancakes and turns to her. "I know, bug. He is too."

"Well, he should be." She looks at the bowl, examining the batter. "Add the flour."

"Roger that." He gets back to mixing again. "What do you mean, he should be?"

"Easier for me," she says almost absent-mindedly. "To keep him away." She scratches her knee, trying to not make it too obvious that she cares. "Why didn't he tell me?" she asks. There's pain in her voice, more than she expected.

John B sighs. "Right now, you're not exactly the person to talk about our issues with."

"Fuck off, I'm a good listener," she immediately cries out. "I didn't listen to you whining all these years for you to say this to me."

"Okay, first, I said 'right now'. Second, I don't whine."

"Yes you do."

"Whatever." He stops mixing again. "What I meant is, after everything you've been through, it's not easy talking about our little problems with you."

She licks her lips, trying to stop herself from feeling anything but anger. "John B, it's not a 'little problem'."

He sighs again. "I know."

She leans back against one of the cupboards. "I don't know why I thought I'd be an exception," she says. "Like, I thought he'd tell me. It's stupid."

"It's not," John B says, and she's almost relieved. "You were always something else, you know. The two of you." She purses her lips, but doesn't answer. "You get what I meant, right?"

She does. She may not remember it all that well, but she gets what he means. JJ felt the most betrayed by her leaving, and she couldn't bear to let him in for fear of him being repulsed by her. When it came to the two of them, it was always different.

"A bit too late now, I guess," she lets out.

John B huffs. "Yeah right. Have you met the guy? You could kill him and he'd just smile."

A small laugh escapes her lips. "Okay, you're doing a bit too much now." She takes the milk bottle in her hands. "I'm going to add the milk while you whisk, okay?"

They stay silent for a moment, Kathryn just focusing on the pancakes. She can feel John B staring at her with concern.

"You know," he starts. "You seem to care an awful lot for someone who thinks it's easier to keep people out."

"What do you want me to say, I'm a walking paradox."

John B doesn't think so. He thinks she's scared of letting people in, obviously. He's positive she thinks she's doing the right thing and that she doesn't care. But he knows she wished people would still stay despite all that. That's okay. He's not going anywhere.

"You can tell me anything, you know?" he tells her. "You're my best friend bug."

It takes her by surprise, and he doesn't expect her to share her feelings and tell him she loves him to bits or that he's like a brother to her, but that's okay. He didn't tell her that to have something in exchange. He just wanted her to know.

"Thanks, bee."

He looks away, blushing a bit. "Uh, I suppose I should tell you that I kissed Kie."

"What?" She almost pours the whole bottle of milk into the mixing bowl.

"In my defence, JJ thought that she was into me."

"And you listened to him?" He nods. "Well, what did she do?"

He scoffs. "Friendzoned me. Of course she did. No Pogue on Pogue macking."

She frowns at him. "Bold words from the one who kissed her first."

"Okay, I shouldn't have told you."

Kathryn laughs. "No, no, it's okay. I'm just surprised. I thought Pope was the one into her."

He shrugs. "We've all been a bit into her. Except JJ, of course."

She rolls her eyes. "Of course. A win for the friendship between men and women." Then, her eyes widened, horrified. "Have all you been into me?"

John B laughs. "No." Except JJ, of course. "You were kind of unavailable, you know. Kook queen hanging with us, I only know one person dumb enough to try."

She sends him a look, but doesn't say anything. She won't give into his innuendos, he'd be too happy. Besides, she doesn't get it. She's pretty sure that if JJ had been into her, she would've noticed.

She jumps off the counter. "All right, you ready for this, stomach for man?"

"I was born ready."

She starts putting batter in the pan. Turns out, cooking the pancakes is harder than you think, when there's someone breathing down your neck.

"John B, I swear to god if you don't stop breathing down my neck I'll stick this frying pan so far up your ass..." He takes a step backwards, laughing. "Do you have any emotion other than 'hungry'?" she teases, finishing cooking the third pancake.

"Yeah, I've got childish."

He dips his finger in the batter, and before she knows it, he spreads it on her cheeks. She gasps, and immediately tries to wipe it with his shirt, but he takes a step backwards, laughing so hard she can see tears in the corner of his eyes.

"John B you're a dead man."

When they're done fighting with the batter, the kitchen is a mess, and they're covered in batter. There's enough for less than a dozen pancakes, and John B's not happy about it. "You should've thought about it before you attacked me," she tells him.

They clean up both themselves and the kitchen, before taking the plate and climbing down the stairs towards her room.

The pancakes are eaten quickly, between giggles and arguments about who got more. John B and Kathryn, laying on her bed with his feet at her head and hers at his, are silent now. There's only her bedlight that's on. Birds are tweeting outside. It feels like old times.

For a few hours, she gets to pretend that she's fine. She's ten, and nothing bad has ever happened to her. The sun is rising. Everything will be okay.

She turns on her back to look down at John B. "Thank you for coming tonight."

He does finger guns at her. "We can do this anytime you want, bug."

He tries to hit her with his foot, but she tickles it, so he quickly retreats.

They stay silent for a moment, just lying as the sun slowly lights up the room. She feels okay. Not angry. Maybe she can fix this with JJ – maybe she can try.

"Kat," John B calls her.

Something in his voice makes her sit up. He follows, keeping a safe distance between them. "What?"

In the dim light, she can't really see his face. "I didn't want to tell you this but–"

Immediately, the fire roars. "Are you hiding something from me?"

"No," he reassures her. "No, it's not like that. It's..." He raises his eyes to meet hers. "I know."

She frowns. "What do you know?"

"Sarah Cameron kind of made me promise to take care of you." She doesn't like where this is going. "She just said some things and I... I pieced it together." His gaze hardens. "I know."

Kathryn feels hot. Burning, even. Something incandescent crawls under her skin, and she doesn't realise she's hyperventilating until the world is blurry and John B is panicking.

"Bug."

"Don't, don't, don't."

The words are all squished together from how quick she tries to get them out. Her stomach churns, and nausea hits her like a tidal wave. Her eyes burn when she turns them to him.

"Did you–"

"I didn't tell anyone," he tells her, voice soft, soothing. "I'd never. I mean, kind of wanted to call the cops, but..." She shakes her head frenetically. "Yeah, I thought so too."

He knows. He knows and he's still here? He doesn't even look angry. Or repelled. Nothing like how people reacted when she told them. Nothing like what her mom looked like in the precinct, next to her.

He must be pitying her, that's why he's staying. He thinks he owes her in some way, but he has to want to leave. And she wants him to – she can't bear to look at his face and see the pity and disgust there.

"You can leave," she says, voice wavering. "You don't have to stay."

He stares at her, confused. "Why would I want to leave?" The fact that she'd even think that pains him.

"You don't have to stay because of some sick pity thing, I'm not – just leave, I get it, everyone does." Her chin wobbles, and she seems too close to tears. "You don't have to stay if you're disgusted."

"Bug, I promise you, I'm not," he tells her, something that looked a lot like guilt tearing at his heart. "You're my best friend. Come on, you're kind, you're smart, you're brave – how would I ever be disgusted by you?"

She looks away. "You don't have to say that."

"I know. But I mean it."

Hesitantly, he brushes the hair out of her face, and she finally looks at him. He just smiles. There's no pity in his eyes. Only unabashed compassion. Care. He doesn't think any less of her. It's her best friend. It's John B. And John B would never.

And when he says, "Bug, it's not your fault." Kathryn bursts into tears.

There's something fundamentally wrong about seeing Kathryn cry. Like a red sky; it's ominous. Like the world caves in. Nothing makes sense. It shouldn't make sense, it shouldn't happen. Kathryn should always smirk. But all she can do now is sob.

Somehow, he always knew something had been wrong when she came back. But it wasn't until Sarah told him to not let 'him' anywhere near her that he knew. He had wished it wasn't true. Cried to himself that he should've been there, one way or another, that he should have taken care of her.

At least, now he could.

When she sinks to the floor, John B is there to hold her. She sobs in his shoulder and he strokes her hair, telling her that it's not her fault until she starts to consider the idea. Because his touch doesn't burn. It's comforting.

"We'll make it okay," he promises, choking up. "I swear."

She doesn't believe him, but she's willing to try.

Author's Note: Much soft and much sad,,, I love them

Editor's Note: Me rn