𝟏𝟎𝟕.                 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨

told you so ──── paramore

( three pov's in this chapter ah )

warning: strong violence

✩ 𝐣𝐣'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯

𝖨 𝖣𝖮𝖭'𝖳 𝖪𝖭𝖮𝖶 𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖱𝖤 𝖦𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖥 𝖶𝖤𝖭𝖳．

We've been inside this mausoleum for what feels like years, both of us unsure on what to say to the other. Emory's been pacing back and forth, muttering under her breath which has been driving me completely insane. I've been sitting on the floor, back against the door, staring forward at where I know my mother rests.

It irks me that this is where I'm hiding out. It irks me that I'm locked in here where my dead mother rests, where ancestors of my family lay. It irks me that Groff isn't back yet, that he's been gone for a while, making me start to consider the possibility that he's up and ditched us.

I know Emory thinks that already as I can hear her incessant murmuring.

"I hope the fucking ground has swallowed him up whole," Emory grumbles, hands on her hips as she walks back and forth. "That bastard." She scoffs, kicking her foot at the wall for the eighth time in the past ten minutes. "That no-good, conniving, smug-faced bastard."

I sigh loudly, flicking my eyes over to her. "Em."

"What, JJ?" She spins around, facing me. "Where is he? Tell me where that man is. Tell me why telling the cops to fuck off is taking hours."

"We've not been in here for hours," I reply, dragging my hand through my hair, agitated.

"I'm sorry, just an hour," she snaps, pulling her phone from her back pocket. "It's nearly been an hour and a half, JJ. Where is he?"

Well, in my defence, I didn't know that.

I lift my shoulders, shrugging. "I don't know."

"Do you not care?" She walks towards me, hands remaining on her hips, and when I meet her gaze, I find that she looks like a bitchy older sister with the way she's scowling at me, not that I say that out loud as she'd literally kill me. "Do you not care that he's fucking ran off with the lens that I had to pry off your dead mother?"

She emphasises her point by waving her hands at me, seeming frustrated with me. "You don't know that," I utter, bringing my head down, choosing to find fascination in the floor.

"Oh, don't be so naive, JJ." My face scrunches, hating to be known as naive when I'm simply just giving Groff a better chance than she is. That doesn't make me naive. "You know he's not coming back, not for us. Why would he? He's known us, what, two minutes, so why would he come back for the children he abandoned?"

I knew that this outburst would arrive at some point, I just wasn't sure when. She's been holding it in for my sake, but now that Groff has left us, all that upset and frustration is about to be poured out in giant, unrelenting waves, aimed at me because he isn't here.

"Emory, just give him a chance. One chance."

"Are you kidding? That man doesn't even deserve the shit off my shoe, JJ," she argues, voice raising an octave. "I owe him nothing. He left me. He left my mother. He's a dick."

"He was having an affair, Emory. He left your mother to be with my mother," I counter, bringing myself up and off the floor as I can't stand to sit down any longer, not when she's standing above me. "Why does it matter anyway? Your mother was better off without him, right?"

"Yes," she jabs. "But my mother is now dead, so is yours. Isn't that, I don't know, strange?"

"Oh, here we go again with you thinking Groff killed our mothers." My life doesn't feel real, not in any kind of way. Here I am, standing in my mother's mausoleum arguing with my sister who, until last night, I didn't know I had. I swear, nobody could write my life and make it make sense. If I read about my own life from somebody else's point of view, I'd laugh.

"Come on, JJ, both our mothers drowned!" She lets out an exasperated laugh, pushing her hands into her hair.

"Yours died of an overdose."

"Oh, fuck off," she curses. "She had marks on her neck, JJ, just like that fucking mercenary that dear old daddy killed." I glare at her, knowing she's trying to get on my nerves, trying so damn hard to get under my skin and piss me off.

She's acting like I don't know what Groff did, like I don't know that he killed that mercenary, but perhaps he had good reason to, I don't know, I didn't question it all that much. Again, I'm trying not to let it bother me as I'm trying to give him some kind of chance unlike somebody.

"He killed my mom, JJ," she insists. "and I'm ninety-nine percent sure he killed yours too."

"You know nothing, Emory," I fight, stepping closer. "You're just believing whatever you want to make yourself feel less guilty for not talking to your mother for eighteen months before she died."

Emory's goes still, looking like I just slapped her across the face, and I'll be honest, I might as well have because I think it would've hurt less. Her head drops, nothing falling past her lips as she steps back, shocked I'd say such a thing. Hell, I think I'm surprised by my own words, knowing I have no right to say such a thing to her.

I swallow, realising I'll never be able to take back such harsh words. "Em." I step forward, she steps back, holding her hand up.

"Wow," she exhales. "Okay. Cool."

I wince, feeling an enormous amount of guilt weigh on me because I can't believe myself for saying such words to her. Yes, we might've been arguing, but for me to snap like that is... so not me. It's so out of character, so out-of-pocket. I don't do this, not to people who I care about, not to people who care about me.

Just over an hour ago, Emory was comforting me and moving me away from my mother's body, and now she can't look at me, and I can't blame her. She's been nothing but good to me since our lives changed last night, since discovering that we're brother and sister. She came here despite her disdain towards Groff just because I asked, and I've just gone and hurt her so easily.

She's turned away from me, facing the wall, leaving me to stare at her back. I breathe out a heavy breath, chest feeling tight. "Em, I'm sorry, I didn't──"

"You're right," she speaks, voice barely above a whisper. "I-I do feel guilty. I am guilty. If I had just stayed at home, if I had just..." Her head drops, shaking slowly. "I let her down. Her only daughter and I broke her heart, and now I will never get to make it up to her, so you're right..." She turns back, refacing me. "If I can think of some reason as to why my mother is dead, it'll make me feel less guilty."

"It's not your fault," I say, needing to take back my previous words, though there's always going to be that reminder that I snapped and lost it. "You didn't kill her, Emory."

"I might as well have." She sniffles, gnawing at her bottom lip. "She gave me life, and I just walked away from her the minute I found out my dad wasn't my dad. I didn't even give her a chance to explain, I-I just walked away and left my family. I-I just..."

I step forward, and she doesn't step back this time, just stares at me with a quizzical expression. "I'm sorry," I push out. "I-I shouldn't have said that, Em, I..."

"No, it's..." She shakes her head, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. "It's fine, JJ. It's whatever. I-I just wasn't expecting it from... you, that's all."

"Yeah, neither was I."

"C-Can I just..." She clears her throat, obvious emotion eating at her which makes me feel so much worse. "Can I ask you something?"

"I think I owe you one."

She breathes out a laugh, wiping her hand under her eye, and I realise that I made her cry. While she covered it up, I was still the one that brought tears to her eyes. Her own brother and I made her fucking cry. I suck at this shit.

"Why are you giving him a chance, JJ?"

It's my turn to go still this time as I register her question.

That's the big question, isn't it? Why?

Why am I giving this man who, yes, abandoned me, a chance? Why, when I barely know him, am I giving him a chance? Maybe Emory's right. Maybe he doesn't deserve anything as we don't owe him a single thing, but I can't help but feel like I do owe him something── like I owe it to him to try and be a son while he tries to be a father.

The thing is, there's a crucial difference between me and Emory. While, yes, in more ways than one, we're similar, but she and I led completely different lives growing up. She can't even begin to fathom what I went through with Luke. She doesn't know all the hits I took, all the abuse I fought, all the pain I suffered just to get to here── to my wish of Luke not being my father coming true. She has no idea what it was like for me, not a single clue.

We were raised differently. She grew up happy with two parents who adored her. She was rich until her father lost said money, but she was privileged, far more than I was. While she was on Miami beach or studying in her giant-as-fuck mansion, I was being beaten black and blue by a man who was supposed to love me. I then washed away my pain with any bottle of alcohol I could get ahold of, much like Luke, much like Emory, making us similar in that sense.

Emory will never be able to grasp just what I went through, just like I'll never fully be able to understand this guilt she feels about her mother. Emory will never know just how much I begged for Luke to not be my dad, for it to be a mistake that I was his son.

Never, ever did I think that day would come.

Yet it has, and because my wish came true on that front, I can't help but feel like I deserve to embrace the chance to have another father── to maybe have a better father. I feel like I've been given a second chance in the family department, being gifted a sister, an image of my mother to finally compare myself to, and a new father.

As ridiculous as it sounds, I feel almost lucky. Not only am I going to be marrying the love of my life, I've been granted this wish── this wish of not having Luke be my father, of him not continuing to ruin my life as I've been given this new hope, I guess.

I sound insane, I know, but I just feel like I can have everything this time around. I can have the girl. I can have the family. I can have the money. We can save Poguelandia. Brooke and I can get married, can travel, can have children. We can all be happy── that's what I see when I consider giving Groff a chance. I see a chance to not only have a father, I see a chance to have it all, and maybe Emory will never see that.

"Why?" she repeats, my silence clawing at the space between us. "You owe him nothing, JJ. We owe him nothing. We barely know this guy, so why are you giving him a chance?"

"You have no idea," I breathe out, taking a step back so I can lean back against the door.

Emory moves with me, going to stand beside me. "Then explain it to me, JJ. Explain to me why you think you owe this man a scrap of your time because you don't. You really, really don't, okay? He doesn't deserve you, do you not realise that? He doesn't deserve you or your time."

"Maybe not," I exhale, staring forward at where my mother's portrait hangs. "But you didn't have Luke as a father, Em. You didn't have what I had. You didn't wish for a better dad."

"I know, b-but do you really think Groff is the better option?"

"Maybe," I reply. "So far, he's doing a better job than Luke..." Well, maybe not with his sudden disappearing act, but I'm still going to hold some hope that he'll return. "...so I'm just going to keep giving him a chance, okay?"

"Well, don't expect me to be nice to him."

"Yeah, well, when are you ever nice?"

She rears her head back, attempting to act offended. "Excuse you, I've been nothing but nice to you. Hello, I'm only here because of you, JJ."

"You didn't have to come," I mutter, though I'm beyond grateful that she is. Had she not been here, I would've been sitting here alone with all these worries and troubles gnawing at me. With her, at least my thoughts are silenced by her constant yammering.

Don't let her know I said that, she'd hit me.

"Yes, I did," she replies, nudging me.

I look to my side, meeting her gaze. "Why?"

"Because my shitty little brother asked me to."

For the first time since arriving at this mausoleum, I crack a smile, as does Emory. Thankfully, just like most siblings── John B and Brooke being the only ones I can compare us to── we go from scowling and arguing to eyes rolls and laughter.

She pulls her eyes off me, also looking to the portrait of my mother. "J-Just if you are allowed to give him a chance, JJ, then I'm allowed my opinions, okay?" My smile drops ever so slightly, my ears processing her words and understanding. "I'm not saying I'm right, I'm just questioning him and the fact that my mother is dead, as is yours, and how that's odd, I think. I'm just saying that I don't trust this guy, and that I believe he had something to do with their deaths, okay, so I'm not giving him a chance, JJ."

I nod along, hearing her, no longer wishing to fight. "Okay."

"Okay," she choruses.

For a moment, I let my mind wander── let it wander to the possibility that Emory has a point. Both our mothers are dead. Though I don't know the full extent of her mother's death, it's said they both drowned which, yes, is odd, but it could just be a coincidence, right? It seems insane to consider that our father killed our mothers.

Yes, he killed that mercenary, but maybe he had a good reason, I don't know. Hell, I would've killed one of those mercenaries on that ship for laying a hand on Brooke, but I know Groff had other motives that obviously didn't involve a woman.

Fuck. I need Brooke. While I wanted Emory here, I didn't realise just how much I needed her here. She knows me better than anybody in this world, and if there's anyone who can make sense of my mind, it's her. I need to get back home to her. I need to see her, hold her, kiss her, whatever. I even think part of me needs Matilda to just laugh at me or something just to ease some of the tension sitting on me.

I'll be home soon, that's what I tell myself.

I open my mouth, about to speak when Emory and I hear him. "JJ! Emory!"

"About fucking time," she mutters, pushing herself off the door just as it unlocks, pushing open to reveal Groff who, I'm certain, looks more disheveled than before. Emory, from my peripheral, is also staring at him strangely, likely thinking the same.

He almost looks like he's been in some kind of fight, I don't know.

"What the hell took so long?" Emory snaps, bringing me out of my trance of trying to figure out why Groff looks more winded than he did earlier.

Groff doesn't respond, not that he ever does to Emory, instead shakes his head and fails to come up with an answer. "Won't lie. I started doubting you," I bite out, moving out of the mausoleum first, desperate to go home now. "We didn't think you were coming back."

"Hey." He grabs my shirt, stopping me from barging past. Emory is already beside me, looking just about ready to smack Groff for grabbing me. "You don't ever have to doubt me. Ever again." His eyes fall on Emory who crosses her arms over her chest. "Either of you."

Emory hums. "Right."

"There's one more mission," Groff informs, holding out the keys to the Twinkie. "You know the back roads to this town?"

I snatch the keys, obviously knowing the back roads as I've lived here my entire life. "Let's go."

With Groff directing me from the passenger seat and Emory scowling in the backseat, I leave the family plot with the knowledge that Groff needs to run an errand. While I'd love nothing more than to be in the arms of my girl, he promises us that we'll be going straight back to Poguelandia once he's done with whatever errand he has.

Emory made some comment under her breath that I couldn't quite hear, but I sensed it was snarky given she was the one who commented. She's told me that she's not giving him a chance, and I just need to respect that even though I don't entirely understand it.

Though, now that we've left the mausoleum, I actually feel... okay, like a little more at ease now that Emory and I have reached some kind of happy medium and Groff has returned from wherever he went.

Then Emory has to go and crush my peace by saying, "Brooke's not answering." I look to her in the rearview mirror, steering right as per Groff's guidance. Emory is tapping away at her phone harshly, likely trying to contact somebody, anybody.

I exhale a breath. "What?"

"Brooke," she repeats. "I've messaged her six times. Called twice. She's not answering."

I shouldn't worry, not when I know she's with Matilda and busy packing up our belongings so we can ditch the moment we arrive as the cops are going to be hanging around us soon. But, because I'm only human, I do worry a little as she's usually good at answering the phone, especially when messages come through that excessively.

Shit. What if the cops got to her? What if one of those mercenaries got to her? I know she can hold her own, but there's nobody else at the house to help her other than a six-year-old girl. Surely she'd at least let us know if somebody got to her, if the cops were lurking around the house or if she'd spotted one of the mercenaries. She'd find a way to contact us, right?

Okay, I'm stepping into the world of panic.

She's okay, JJ. She's fine.

Exhaling a breath, I speak, "She's probably just..."

"Busy," Groff finishes, offering me some kind of smile to put my mind at ease, though I always worry about Brooke even when there's nothing to worry about. I then catch Groff and Emory spare a glance at the other in the rearview mirror, some unspoken words being shared that I can't read.

I clear my throat, capturing both their attentions. "Busy. Yeah," I agree. "She's with Matilda, you know, and she's, uh, packing up, so... I don't know, but she'll get back to you."

"I've messaged Kie, asked her to head back to the house if she isn't already," Emory speaks, still looking at Groff in the rearview mirror who clears his throat, immediately bringing his head down to refocus on directions.

I nod, feeling a little better upon knowing that somebody else will be at the house soon. "Okay."

"You can pull in right here," Groff informs, bringing me out of my panicked state as I arrive at Toler's Cove Marina.

The Marina? Why are we here? "Right here?"

"Yeah." I turn the engine off, glancing over my shoulder at Emory who looks equally confused. "I'm just gonna pick something up. Hang tight."

"Pick something up? What are we doing here?" I ask, seriously not understanding what he needs to pick up at the marina.

Of course, like a lot of times today, he doesn't answer, just opens the door to the Twinkie, getting out. It should infuriate me more that he's not giving us any kind of answers, but part of me hopes he will explain eventually. Before he walks away entirely, he slides open the back door where Emory sits, retrieving a bag I didn't even know was in the back.

She glares at him, offering him that usually Emory Thorne scowl we all know and love. "Can I borrow your phone?" he asks, earning a scoff. "Mine's as dead as Julius Caesar." He holds his phone up, showing that the screen is black.

"Nice topical reference, old man." She slaps her phone down onto his open palm, holding it there for a moment before he walks away. "Hurry up, okay? JJ's sort of a fugitive, and if I have to sit and wait for you any longer, well..." She grins, releasing her phone. "...I might start trying to find you. I'm not a fugitive, after all."

He chuckles breathlessly, stepping back with Emory's phone in hand. "Just stay low," Groff instructs, sliding the door to a close, though he doesn't leave so quickly once again, instead coming back to stand at the passenger side window, looking to me. "We make a good team."

I don't say anything, just stare at him as he takes my silence as some kind of response, moving back and away from the Twinkie to go and pick whatever up. Emory, being Emory, pulls herself away from the backseat, choosing to sit up front.

I sigh, looking out the front window. "What? He can take backseat. I'm sick of this shit. He's now got my phone."

"You gave him your phone."

"Yeah, because you lost yours." In my defence, I didn't mean to lose my phone, it just happened in the midst of committing property destruction and proposing to Brooke. "Now I'll never know if your fiancée gets back to me."

"You will when he gives you your phone back."

"If he gives me it back," she mumbles, staring off to where Groff walked away. "You know, I think I should follow him, see what he's up to because somethings not right here."

"I'm sure he'll tell us when he gets back."

Her head tilts away, now facing me. "If he's going off to kill somebody, JJ, I don't think he's going to just tell us." It's the way she says things in that condescending tone of hers that annoy me, like she's trying to patronise me when she doesn't know what he's doing either.

"Just sit still," I say, knowing that if she gets out of this van and follows him, I'll feel obligated to then follow her and I can't afford to be caught by the cops, not when we could be chasing a man who is literally just running an innocent errand.

We sit in tense silence for sometime, neither of us sure what to say to the other when we have differing opinions on how to handle the father situation. She's insistent on not giving him any kind of chance while I'm, I don't know, hopeful, though the longer I sit here in the light of day, the more anxious I become, afraid of getting caught.

Emory keeps staring off into the distance, tapping her hand against the dashboard to keep herself from getting out of this van and following his path. She's not a fugitive so if she were to follow him, nobody would spare her a glance, but I would feel the need to follow her just in case which would then lead to me being caught.

"Look," Emory begins. "I just have one more thing to say." Glancing back to me, I decide to give her the time of day as this might be the last thing she comments on. "If that man comes swinging in any kind of way, I'm stabbing."

"Swinging?" I scoff, watching her bring out her pocket knife from her back pocket. "Really?"

She nods firmly, flicking it open. "Yep."

"You're going to stab your dad?"

Her nose scrunches. "Not my dad," she mumbles, closing the knife and slotting it back into her back pocket. "Just a precaution, okay? I'm not saying I'll have to use it. I'm just saying I will if he does anything to harm either of us."

"Wow. I feel so safe," I deadpan.

"You should. This little knife does wonders, believe me." She grins, obviously infatuated by her own knife. "I would've brought my gun but that would've been too obvious."

"Right," I utter, looking past her to see that Groff is walking back over to the Twinkie. We've been sitting here for a while, once again waiting for him, but he's returned, and now Emory and I can finally go home. "Finally."

"What took so long?" Emory asks, smiling smugly in the passenger seat.

"Sorry, kids. I've got one more teeny tiny request to make," he tells, holding his hands up defensively which is a good thing as Emory looks just about ready to hurt him.

"What?" she grumbles, hand on the door handle.

"Leave the van," he insists. "Come with me."

My head rears back, confused on how we got from going back home to ditching the van. "What do you mean── What? Leave the van?"

Groff holds up a pair of keys. "I've got a boat here. Come on, let's go. Get you off the street."

I shake my head, knowing Emory and I can't just take an impromptu trip with our father when we have to get home. Our friends will start to worry. Brooke will start to worry. "No, no. We gotta get back right now. With that little lens thing, alright?"

Groff moves to my window, holding the lens up. "I'll take you back. Here's your lens. Come on." Swallowing thickly, I peer over my shoulder at Emory who looks just as puzzled as me. "This the safest way," Groff continues. "Take a boat. Get you off the streets right now. Let's go. We're losin' time."

Maybe he's right. Whatever. He'll take us home. I grip the handle, shoving the door open. "JJ, what──" Emory's also shoving her door open, getting out of the van frantically.

"Drop us off with the lens, alright?" I demand, staring right at my father as I slam the door shut.

"Yes," Groff replies.

Emory joins my side. "JJ, you can't be serious."

"Em, you don't have to come."

"N-No, you should... you should come," he stammers out. I-It'll be safe for both of you to come." Emory narrows her eyes at the man, sucking in a sharp breath.

"Emory, you don't have to," I repeat, knowing she's not a fugitive, knowing she can get back to the house and let everybody know that I'm fine, that I'll be back soon.

Emory's eyes flicker from me to Groff. "Let's go."

She so doesn't want to come with us, so why doesn't she just leave?

"Perfect." He hands the keys off to me. "Slip forty two. Go," he urges, placing a hand on my back and pushing me forward towards the dock. "Get her started. I'll keep lookout."

Emory and I move away from Groff, and the moment we're away from him, I snatch her arm. "You didn't have to come," I bite out.

"As if I'm leaving you alone with him."

"What do you think is going to happen?"

She casts a glance over her shoulder as we continue to walk down the dock, a look of worry glossed over her eyes. "You don't wanna know what I think is gonna happen."

──────────────────────────

☀︎ 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯

𝖲𝖤𝖠𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦，𝖡𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦，𝖧𝖤𝖠𝖣－𝖳𝖧𝖴𝖬𝖯𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖭 is all I feel as my eyes begin to blink, blinding light burning my pupils the moment I stare up, eyes beginning to refocus on whoever is leaning over me.

I feel something wet resting over my forehead── a towel of sorts, but I can't figure out who is in front of me. They're blurry, just a silhouette, and I question if I'm imagining them. My eyes fall to a close again, the pain beginning to ricochet from the back of my head to the front, a tight sensation tucked behind my eyes that worsens when I squeeze my eyes shut, needing to regather myself.

I hear a voice, though it sounds faraway like it's not right in front of me. "Brooke." Something── Somebody touches my face, their fingertips pressing against my neck where my pulse beats. Am I dead? Is this real? Are they checking if I'm dead? Shit. "Hey, Brooke. Come on. Hey."

"She's breathing, right?"

"Yes, Pope, she's breathing. She just won't..." My head falls to one side, bringing the antagonising burn with it, and I whine, attempting to bring my face away from whatever is touching me. "Brooke, come on. Open your eyes. Look at me."

"Shit, John B." A hand is placed over the wet cloth against my forehead. "Hey, Brooke."

I dig my face into something warm, needing the pain to subside as I attempt to recall the last thing that happened. My entire body feels weak, unable to move and function without somebody keeping me up. I just feel like I'm on fire, like every nerve in my body is aflame and I can't be put out.

I keep my eyes closed, needing to remember why I'm in this position, why it hurts to move my head and body, why I feel like screaming and crying. "I-I..." I cough, tasting something metallic on my tongue. Blood.

"Come on, B, look at me. Talk to me."

A stuttered breath slips past my lips, feeling some relief as I know who that voice belongs to now. John B. I don't think I'm making this up. I don't think I'm dreaming. He is the one leaning over me, holding my face as I attempt to regain composure.

If John B's here, I think the others must be here── Sarah, Kiara, maybe Pope and Cleo. Is JJ and Em──

"Oh." I force my dazed eyes to blink open, revealing my brother, though there's, like, two of him which is not right. I only have one brother. "JJ," I cry, wiggling my fingers, feeling something similar to a bedsheet under me. I'm laid down on my bed, I think. "JJ, he's..." I swallow again, tasing blood again.

The corner of my mouth is swiped by somebody's fingertip. "Shit. Come on, B. It's okay. You're okay."

"Brooke, how many fingers am I holding up?" My head is turned towards Pope who stands at my bedside, holding his fingers up, but I see about eight fingers on one hand. That can't be right.

"Pope, she can barely open her eyes."

"I'm trying to see if she's concussed."

"She obviously is!" Sarah── the one holding a wet cloth to my head, the one whose lap I'm laying on. Ah, Mama Sarah.

"Brooke, what happened?"

"JJ, Emory, t-they──" I shift, another wave of pain smacking me square in the head.

"What?" I feel another pair of hands touch me, and I think it's Kiara. "What happened, Brooke?"

My eyes fall closed again, my pain reminding me of what occurred not long ago.

DCS. Groff. Pain. Matilda. Pain. Black.

JJ and Emory are in danger── that much I know, so I need to get my ass up. I need to drag my tired, beaten body off this bed and to the front door because I need to find them. I need to get to JJ and Emory before something happens that I could've prevented.

"B, what happened?"

I go to speak, but I feel myself beginning to slip into the darkness again. "Shit. Get her up." I'm lifted ever so slightly, my head now laying back against Sarah's shoulder. "Cleo, get her some water now," John B instructs, keeping a hand on the side of my neck like he's worried I'll die right before him.

"It's okay," Sarah whispers, speaking so softly in my ear. "You're okay."

"Emory's not answering her phone," Kiara tells, and I know why she's not answering, but I can barely open my eyes never mind breathe out any kind of sentence.

"Here." Suddenly, a glass of water is held at my lips, and it's so, so cold. "Drink for me, Brooke. Come on." A hand is pushed into my hair, and I wince at the new feeling, knowing there's an obvious pain at the back of my head.

The glass is lifted and I feel water trickle down my throat, though it doesn't stay there. I fall forward, my stomach twisting and knotting, and I cough out a mix of blood and water. "Shit."

"She's definitely got a concussion."

"No shit, Pope!"

"Brooke, tell me what happened." There's a plead behind John B's voice that makes me hate myself for not putting up a fight, for not getting out of this situation and ending up like this── immobile and bloody. "Come on."

"Lean back, Brooke." I'm brought back into Sarah, one hand moving through my hair soothingly while the other rests on my hip. "It's okay. J-Just tell us what happened, okay?"

"Who did this, Brooke?"

Willing my eyes to stay open, I stare at the blurred outlines of my friends, each of them displaying the same concerned look. "Groff," is all I say, and it's all I need to say for my friends to realise just how much danger JJ and Emory are in because, hello, look at the state of me.

I don't even want to look in a mirror. I'm afraid of what I'll be faced with, so I thank Emory for breaking mine and JJ's mirror this morning. Though it seems I was correct in saying we'll each have seven years bad luck. Great.

"Fuck."

"This was Groff?"

"Shit. Emory and JJ. They──"

"We'll get to them," John B assures, though he doesn't know where they are exactly nor if we can actually reach them.

"Somebody should stay here with Brooke. She──"

"No," I cough, lifting my hand to wipe the blood around my mouth, grimacing at the taste on my tongue. "N-No, I need to..."

"Brooke, you can't move."

"You need to rest."

"No. JJ is in danger." I lean forward slightly, pulling back from Sarah who attempts to keep me against her. "I... I need you... to..." I wince, my head falling forward and hitting my brother's shoulder as he sits in front of me. Lifting my arms, I cling onto his shoulders, breathing heavily as the pain intensifies, a throbbing sensation building at my forehead. "Shit."

John B's hand is on my back. "Look, I'll stay here. You guys──"

"No," I cry, knowing I can't just stay here now that I'm awake, not when I know I can stop more people from getting hurt like me. "No." I pull my head back slightly, fingertips digging into John B's shirt. "No. I-I need to get to him."

"You can't move," he speaks, concerned.

"Then help me move. Please." My eyes fall shut, the burning stinging behind my eyes. "Oh, God."

"Brooke, you can't move," Kiara speaks.

"You've gotta rest, Brooke."

"No. I-I'm fine," I insist, using my brother to move, sliding across my bedsheet to get off this bed and move. The moment I'm up, I swear I'll be fine, I just need to──

I wobble, my legs not on the same wavelength as my determined mind, and I fall right back down the moment I try to bring myself up. "Fuck!" I feel like screaming. I feel like crying. I feel like begging for some kind of miracle. If I don't get my ass up, Emory and JJ are completely and utterly screwed. Groff is with them, and I can't lose either of them. I refuse to lose them when I can absolutely do something about it.

"Brooke, just──"

"No," I push out. "W-We need to..." I lean my head into John B's shoulder, my arm around his back. I look forward past Pope and Cleo, noticing the curtains are drawn closed, likely because the light would bother me when I eventually woke. Dropping my head, my gaze falls to glass on the floor, suspecting the window was smashed from how hard Groff hit my head.

I lift my hand, going to feel the back of my head, afraid I'll just feel blood in my hair, but Kiara grabs my hand. "Hey." She's crouching before me, squeezing my hand tightly, stopping me from checking. "It's okay. You're okay, Brooke, but you can't come with us. You can barely move."

"I-I can move," I insist. "I need to move. T-They're in trouble, Kiara. I-I can... I can move."

Sarah's hand slides against my shoulder. "Hey, Brooke, where's Matilda? Is she hiding?"

"We tried calling for her earlier."

"I-I told her to run," I reply, swallowing thickly. "I-I don't know where she is."

I lost Matilda because of this, so I refuse to lose Emory and JJ, not at the hands of a man who should be six feet fucking under. Matilda would want me to fight, and wherever she is, I hope she's okay and faraway from this.

If I think too long on letting her go, I'll start crying again which I know will hurt because my eyes and face feel swollen.

"Help me up," I say, gently hitting my hand against John B's chest.

He sighs, obviously agitated by my insistence but he knows this is what I'm like. He knows I'm not just going to sit here and accept the fact that Emory and JJ are in fucking danger. "B."

"Help me up," I repeat. "Now."

Without much of a fight from anyone else, not that they can fight as I just went through hell and back to get here, John B and Pope help me up and off the bed. My arms are draped over their shoulders, my head leaning into John B as they bring me through the house. I pass through the front door, also noticing that window is smashed too. I spot my cracked phone on the steps outside that Groff must've unplugged and stepped on so I wouldn't be able to track JJ and Emory once I woke.

I've never hated somebody more.

Cleo walks ahead of us, a bottle of water in hand for me to drink once we're on the boat that's docked up. Sarah and Kiara walk behind us, Kiara frantically trying to find where Emory is.

I feel my eyes close every so often on the treacherous journey to the boat that looks so faraway, but I just hold on tighter to John B and Pope, refusing to fall back into an unconscious state. While I know I'm supposed to rest as I likely have a concussion from the force at which Groff attacked me, I can't rest until JJ and Emory are in front of me, hopefully unscathed.

As we pass the bait shop, I spot my sketchbook lying on the floor, and another hit of emotion hits me as Matilda was just here with my sketchbook and now she's... God, I don't even know where she is, and I hate that. "Hm." I press into my brother, attempting to turn his attention to my sketchbook. "Can you... Can you get my..."

He and Pope pause, seeing what I'm looking at. "Your sketchbook?"

I let my eyes rest of for a moment, thankful the sun is starting to set as I know it would physically pain me to keep my eyes open. "Uh-huh."

"Really?"

"Oh, just grab it," Kiara snaps, visibly ticked off because Emory is in trouble. She moves to retrieve my sketchbook before she walks by us, staring down at her phone, likely trying to locate Emory and JJ. "They're on the water."

"What?"

Kiara turns, showing her phone to see that Emory's contact is on the water. "Are they leaving the island?" Sarah asks, puzzled.

"Shit," I breathe out, realising I might be too late.

Though, I swear, if I'm not too late and I manage to catch up to JJ and Emory, I'm killing that son of a bitch for laying a hand on me. 

──────────────────────────

꩜ 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯

𝖨𝖭 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖳𝖶𝖤𝖭𝖳𝖸 𝖸𝖤𝖠𝖱𝖲 𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖨'𝖵𝖤 𝖡𝖤𝖤𝖭 𝖠𝖫𝖨𝖵𝖤，𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱𝖤'𝖲 𝖡𝖤𝖤𝖭 𝖳𝖶𝖮 𝖮𝖢𝖢𝖠𝖲𝖨𝖮𝖭𝖲 𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖱𝖤 𝖨'𝖵𝖤 𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖲𝖨𝖣𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖣 𝖪𝖨𝖫𝖫𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖲𝖮𝖬𝖤𝖡𝖮𝖣𝖸．The first occasion was just last night when my biological father walked through the door, breaking the news that I have had a brother this entire time. The second occasion is now.

Ain't it funny how both instances involve the same person?

Yes, that's right, I'm seriously considering killing my biological father. Though, I don't want his death to be quick. No, I'd like it to be fucking painful because I know that's what he deserves.

Whilst JJ is giving him a chance which, whatever, he can do, I am insistent on the fact that he had something to do with my mother's death. Hell, I think he killed JJ's mother too. JJ doesn't seem to believe that fact── he doesn't want to── but I'm going to find out the truth one way or another.

I don't even want to be on this boat, only being here because I just couldn't leave JJ alone with Groff. Yes, I could've driven the Twinkie back to the house but I felt sick at the thought of leaving JJ alone with a man who I know is a killer, and who I know I don't trust.

I know I've given him no chances, but how can I? This man has lied to us from the moment he met us, and maybe JJ can't see that he's obviously not a good person, but I'm seeing clearly for the both of us. Well, I'm trying to.

Right now, I'm just trying to figure out why Groff could possibly want us out here in the water. Is he going to drown us like he did our mothers? Maybe throw us overboard and let fish eat us? I don't know, but he's up to something fishy, if you will.

He's bringing the boat to a slow, stopping right in the middle of the water. We're on the deck down below while Groff steers us into the buttfuck middle of nowhere. "We're here! This is it!" he tells, and JJ and I share a look, utterly lost.

"What? I thought you said we were going back. What the hell are we doing out here?" JJ questions, but he should've known that Groff wouldn't just take us back to the house, not straight away, that is. I have a suspicion as to why he's not taking us back home, but I won't voice it, not yet.

Ignoring JJ, as he's done a lot today, he waves a hand to us. "Come around back. I want to talk to you kids."

I literally recoil at hearing a man I don't know refer to me as a kid── as his kid. It genuinely makes me feel ill, especially when I've never been nor will I ever be his kid. I have a father who, yes, is flawed, but the best are.

"Can I see my phone?" I ask, realising Groff still has the damn thing. I was too distracted with knowing I had to be here for JJ to actually ask for it back. "Wanna check in on Kie, seeing if the others are okay." See if Brooke is okay because I suspect something, though I don't explicitly say it as I don't wish to worry JJ.

"Yeah, sure thing." I step away, going to retrieve my phone. "Here you go. Go long!" Before I reach even the steps up to Groff, my phone is tossed in nobody's general direction, and it instead drops down and lands straight in the ocean.

I exhale a laugh, finding that to be a little too convenient. "There is no way you just did that."

"Sorry, m-my bad. I'll get you a new one, a better one, the upgrade." I drag my hands through my hair, looking to JJ again who can't seem to believe that my phone is sitting at the bottom of the ocean right now. "In fact, I'm gonna replace everything you kids own. From now on, everything you have is going to be better! Come on!"

"Like fuck was that an accident," I mumble.

My suspicions are growing more and more likely of being correct. I suspect that Groff doesn't want us returning home as he's been to the house and done something to Brooke── knocked her out, killed her, I don't know, but he's done something to her. It's the way he looked at me in the van when I expressed my concern for her not answering the phone. It's the way I just sensed when he said, "busy", he actually meant, "I've dealt with her".

I don't know, maybe I'm completely insane on that front, but there is a reason he's not taking us back to the house. Then again, why would he harm Brooke? What would that do? Although, if I am right, and he has harmed Brooke, his death is going to involve a blunt chainsaw to make the process slower and far more painful.

Also, if Brooke is hurt in any kind of way── big or small── I trust that JJ won't let that slide. Hell, I'm not letting it slide.

I really don't fucking trust this guy.

We go to where Groff is, meeting him around back, and we watch as he places his bag down onto an alcohol cart that is sitting up top. I realise how much I'd kill for any kind of drink to take my mind off this situation, but I have to stay sober in case he attempts to hurt one of us as I really wouldn't put it past him.

"How long is this gonna take?" JJ asks, his impatience on the same degree as mine. "Because we gotta beat the tide to get the boat back up the channel."

"Okay, but first, hear me out. T-This crown. It's... very valuable." He's speaking at us like we don't know this already. "There's a lot of pretty important people who will pay a lot of money for it," he explains, laughing.

If he laughs one more time, I'm gonna shove my fist down his mouth, I swear. He laughs at everything, it's annoying.

JJ nods, the corner of his mouth tugged up in a smile. "I like the sound of that."

Groff nods along, pleased that at least one of his kids gives a shit about this crown. Personally, I don't care, again only here because I couldn't leave JJ alone with our father. "I thought you might. I thought I was gonna need the Corsairs to get it, but I think the three of us could get it on our own."

Uh, what? On our own? Nuh-uh. We have friends involved in this shit. They need to be involved. I refuse to this without them, and I know JJ well enough to know he's loyal as fuck, especially to our friends.

"First things first." Groff takes out the lens that I pried from his dead wife and places it on the alcohol cart. "Moment of truth." We then watch him pull out the tube that holds the scroll. I stare at him, dumbfounded as to why he holds the scroll we know we hid at the house, only confirming my suspicion that he was at the house and that he must've ran into Brooke.

I catch the smile on JJ's face drop, confusion beginning to settle on his face. "Wait. Wait, when did you get this?"

"Brooke," Groff answers, and I scoff, knowing full well Brooke didn't hand off this scroll willingly, that she's probably unconscious right now. "So we could check it with the lens. She gave it to me."

"Yeah, likely story," I comment sarcastically, knowing Brooke well enough to know she wouldn't just give him this scroll, and JJ senses it to, or at least I think he does until Groff opens his stupid mouth to laugh again, this time over the fact that he's holding the lens over the scroll and it's working its magic.

"Oh! It works!"

JJ's attention is brought away from questioning Groff over the scroll, and is instead focused on what Groff is doing. "What?"

"I knew it!"

"Wait, really? It works?" JJ is beginning to embrace the excitement that our father has over something that is so not important right now. What's important now is figuring out whether Brooke is alive or dead right now because, believe me, if JJ discovers she's been harmed, he's going to wish for Groff's death like I am.

"Come look at this!"

I don't move, I just watch my brother move to check it out, instead deciding to glare at the man whose name I was supposed to have. "Mogador," JJ reads from the scroll through the lens.

"Yeah, that's Essaouira," Groff tells, all this shit sounding gibberish to me.

"It really does work. Holy shit." JJ looks over his shoulder at me. "You wanna see, Em?"

"No, I'm afraid I'll die of excitement if I do," I deadpan, continuing to scowl at Groff who is still laughing over the realisation that he now has the scroll, the lens and the location of the motherlode. How fucking convenient for him.

"I-I have the location of the crown," he states, sounding like a child on Christmas day. "F-From Murad himself." He laughs, stepping away to pour us each a drink, and while I said I would love to drink my weight in alcohol, I'm staying clearheaded for what I know is about to come.

Don't worry, the knife in my back pocket is fully prepared.

"It actually works." JJ drops the lens, straightening back up with his hands on his hips, his eyes on Groff. "So this is why you actually came back. I knew it."

"No shit," I utter, already knowing that Groff never came back for us── for the kids he abandoned.

Groff step over to us, handing off two glasses── one for me, one for JJ. "Listen to me, kids. The three of us, together... we are unstoppable."

He clinks his glass against ours. "You know it," JJ replies, chuckling softly which has me wanting to literally smack him because he's glossing over something very important. Hello, his fiancée might be dead right now and he's just standing here laughing.

While JJ and Groff take a sip of their drinks, I'm placing my glass down, agitation gnawing at my skin as I look back to Groff. "But we gotta hop to it. I say we head east to Bermuda," Groff says a little too quickly like this was his plan all along.

JJ's eyebrows furrow, his smile replaced by confusion once again. "What? Right now?"

"It's a long way to Morocco. We gotta get going, kids."

I scoff, peering up at JJ who I think is beginning to see just how narcissistic dear old daddy is. "But we gotta pick up my friends," JJ reminds him. "That's what we gotta do first. I mean, the map, the lens, like, they put in the work to get that too, and we're just gonna take it? We can't do that."

"Of course we can!" Groff exclaims, once again laughing like all is bright and bubbly with this situation. "Listen, once we find the crown, we'll give them what they deserve. Don't worry about that."

"But we can't take it."

"I give you permission."

"Oh, well if you give him permission," I snap, crossing my arms over my chest. "Have you got a permission slip that comes with that or..."

Groff just walks away, chuckling to himself, probably not amused by me in the slightest as he must see a literal reflection of my mother whenever he looks at me. Not only did I inherit my good looks from my mother, I also inherited my bitchy mouth from her which explains why I'm as snappy as they come, not taking shit from anyone, especially not this man.

Sadly, my brother wants to believe the best in people, and while it's a good trait to have, he's too worthy to be tossed around. He means too much to just been written off and used like he's being right now by our father. Groff is taking advantage of him, and I hate to see it.

I nudge him gently when Groff's back is to us. "You know that Brooke did not give him that scroll, JJ. You know it."

"I know," he breathes out, placing his glass down as he finally begins to realise just what we're up against.

"He is not who you want him to be, JJ."

JJ nods along, hearing me this time around as his eyes flicker to Groff. "No, I can't do that." Groff pauses, looking back down at us. "I'm not gonna steal from my friends." I watch Groff sit down, his expression surprised like he actually expected us to run off with a man we barely know over friends we consider family. "Also, I know Brooke didn't give you that scroll. She wouldn't do that. So what did happen?"

"Did you hurt her?" I add, and I see JJ swallow, suspected guilt gnawing at him as it hits him that while he's been here, Brooke's likely been injured.

I watch Groff's face change, that previous excitement and joy being replaced by something more sinister, more evil. "Now... why would you let me tell you my plan if you weren't gonna come with me?"

"Did you hurt her?" JJ is asking this time, his voice shaking as he realises what kind of man our father actually is after all this back-and-forth fighting he and I have been doing. "Did you hurt Brooke?"

"Hey, answer him," I fight, getting just about ready to slice this bastard's throat.

Naturally, and because he can't resist, Groff doesn't answer us, instead jabbing a finger in our direction. "You're just like your mother," he voices. "Both of you are. How did that happen?"

"Seems our genes knew the right way to go," I bite out, instinctively stepping closer to JJ.

Groff exhales another laugh. "Both of you tricking me into confidences. Just to box me in. And I won't have it."

With a single look to one another, the truth is finally revealed to us, and JJ and I both utter the same words, though referring to our own mothers when we speak. "You killed her, didn't you?"

Groff scoffs, his acting not as good as he thinks. "What?" He pulls himself up from where he sits, beginning to advance towards us.

"Our mothers, you killed them," JJ states.

"T-They drowned," Groff replies, bringing himself close again, and I slide even closer to JJ, afraid of what he has planned. "It was a terrible, terrible tragedy to lose them both like that." I roll my eyes up, and a tattoo on Groff's wrist distracts me for a moment as I try to place where I've seen it.

"My boy," Groff speaks beside me, moving towards JJ while I keep staring up, observing the tattoo that I think resembles that of the one I saw in the pictures of that dead mercenary, but that would mean... "My beautiful... beautiful boy."

JJ's arm is no longer touching mine, instead moving away, and I'm brought out of my tattoo trance to find Groff with his hands on JJ's shoulders, offering him the eeriest smile I've ever seen. "Wait. Get──" His hand that isn't holding JJ reaches out to push me back.

I stumble, pushing my hand into my back pocket, though I'm too late to grab my knife and do any kind of damage to Groff as JJ is edging closer to falling off. "Dad, what──" JJ is then shoved backwards, immediately falling down where he hits the anchor.

He crashes into the water, and my heart skyrockets. "JJ!"

Groff then moves to me, intent on making me follow the path JJ just took, but I duck under his arm, dragging my knife out of my back pocket just as he spins and gets ahold of my hair, pulling me backwards. Despite the sting, I keep ahold of my knife, clutching it tightly as I flick it open.

"Get the hell..." I elbow him in the stomach, knocking him away from me. I fall away, swinging around with my knife in hand, holding it in Groff's direction as he regains his footing, refocusing on me.

I know, deep down, that I can't fight him, not when all I have is a ting knife and nobody to help me. Also, my brother is in the water, crying out from the pain of hitting the anchor, so I need to get to him now before he can't keep himself afloat.

Groff backs up, laughing shortly, his hand wiping across his face. "You're not gonna use that."

"Not right now, no," I push out, beginning to back away with the knife raised, knowing I need to get to JJ more than I need to kill this man. "But I swear, the minute we find you, I am going to kill you── for my mother, for Larissa, but more importantly..." I swallow harshly, continuing to move back so I can get off the boat easily. "...I am going to kill you for my brother because you made him believe he could have it better, that he could actually have a father. You lied to him, and now you've hurt him, so mark my words, Dad, I will kill you."

Not giving him another second of my time, I throw myself off the side of the boat and into the water, quickly pushing my knife back into my pocket as I swim over to where JJ is. "JJ!"

Once I reach him, I immediately lift his arm to place around my shoulders so he stay afloat and leaning into me. "It's okay." He's breathing heavily, wincing from the pain he's in, urging me to bring one hand under the water so I can press down on the wound on his abdomen. "Shit. It's okay. You're okay."

I look towards the boat, seeing Groff scramble to get back to the wheel so he can, once again, abandon his children.

"Fuck." He inhales sharply, fingers skimming over the wound too. "Em, I..."

"It's okay," I repeat, keeping my hand over the wound, hearing him wince the harder I press down but I need to stop the bleeding somehow, and with us being in the water, it's not exactly easy. "You're gonna be fine, JJ."

"Em," he breathes out, sounding weak.

"Stay with me," I insist, refusing to gain a brother and lose a brother in one fell swoop. "Just stay with me, JJ. You're gonna be fine."

Honestly, I don't know how fine he'll be. I'm struggling to stay floating as I'm allowing for all his weight to be pressed into me. I don't know how heavily he's bleeding or how deep the wound is, but I know it's not good.

Groff is already setting off, steering the boat away from us, but I knew he would leave, and I know he ain't going to stop, not when he sees his entire future before his eyes. He's got everything now. He's got the lens, the scrolls, the location.

That fucking bastard.

"I-I should've listened..." he coughs, bringing a wave of pain to my chest.

"Shut up," I whisper, feeling his head lean into my shoulder. "Just shut up, okay? You're fine, JJ. We're gonna be okay. You are gonna be okay."

"I'm sorry."

I look to him, feeling this unwanted sting behind my eyes. He's seriously apologising right now? He has nothing to be sorry for, not when he just wanted to believe that Groff could be his new chance at a better father. While part of me is mad at him for not just hearing me sooner, I can't be mad at him for long, not when this is what's happened as a result.

I breathe just as heavily, a tightness in my chest. "You have nothing to be sorry for," I tell.

Before either of us can say another word, I hear something in the distance── a boat. I look away, spotting our miracle out in the ocean. The Snapper is approaching us, ready to save us from this hell we've found ourselves in.

I feel like crying in both joy and frustration. "Hey! Over here! Hey!" I yell, begging to God that they hear us.

"JJ!" I lift my hand, waving upon hearing the best possible sound. "Emory!"

"Hold on!"

"We're coming!"

"They're coming, J." I exhale a relieved breath, something warm sliding down my cheek as I look to him, his face scrunched in pain. "They're coming. It's okay. You're gonna be fine, JJ."

The moment The Snapper reaches us, John B is holding his arms out. "Come on."

"Take him first!" I yell, moving us towards the bow of the boat where John B and Pope stand. "He's hurt. Help him!" Carefully, I help JJ up and into the arms of Pope and John B who drag him onto the boat, bringing him right to Brooke who, as suspected, looks like she's been dragged through hell herself.

I'm then helped up by Kiara, Pope and John B, and I immediately fall into Kiara, embracing her tighter than necessary, but I feel very close to screaming and crying and she is quite literally the only one who can keep me grounded, who can stop me from stepping into that dark place.

"Hey. Hey." She hugs me just as tight, bringing us both to sit down as I cast a look at JJ who is laying back, Brooke's head resting on his chest as she places a delicate hand over the wound on his abdomen. "Are you okay?" Kiara asks, bringing my head back, hands holding my face.

I nod, tears pooling over. "Y-Yeah."

JJ's alive. Brooke's alive. I'm alive.

And there's one thing that we can each agree on── Chandler Groff needs to not be alive.

He needs to die.

──────────────────────────

❀ soph speaks

over 10,000 words im tired people

there might be spelling errors etc idk

jj, brooke's and emory's pov woah

anyway,, this was lowkey sad and rewatching the scene made me so fucking mad like i want groff to be sliced into tiny pieces and eaten by dogs

uh, on a happier note,, im very excited about the next jj story im planning
it's a strangers to friends to lovers to strangers story and i've planned the first few chapters out yayay

although i realise im getting closer to jj and brooke's story being over and it's paining me bcos i seriously don't know how im ending this story

y'all might not believe that but i rlly am unsure on how to end this act :/

thankyou for reading!!!!