The last time Tyler had been to the Easton household, he hadn't even been inside. He'd stood on the doorstep and told the love of his life he was breaking up with her.

He had no such plans today.

"Elle?" His voice was shaky as he called her name, shoving open the door to her house. "Elora?"

He looked around. Nothing seemed out the ordinary, well, except for the fact that Elora wasn't here.

"Elle?" He asked again, advancing further into the house, ducking his head into the living room, frowning. "Elora-"

"Hello, Tyler."

The blonde boy jumped round, tensing immediately.

He hadn't seen the woman since she got back, given the fact he wasn't there for the great reunion, but there wasn't a doubt in his mind that it was her.

Elizabeth Easton. She was just there, sat in the kitchen, a half drunk mug of tea in front of her, her expression sort of vacant.

But what got Tyler's attention even more than that was what was opposite her on the table. A second mug that looked like it had been knocked over, some of its contents spilled onto the table.

"Where's Elle?" He uttered, hearing his words as if he was somewhere else in the room.

Elizabeth looked him up and down, saying. "Why do you want to know?"

Tyler swallowed, clenching his fists. "Because I care about her," he muttered.

"Do you?" Her voice carried more of a bite to it know, as she got up, walking slowly round the table. Then she sighed, shaking her head. "And here I was thinking I'd taught her not to fraternise with Kooks."

"I'm not a Kook," Tyler snapped, his voice harsher than he meant to.

Elizabeth chuckled slightly, a bitter, drawn out sound. "You're one of Cynthia's boys, hmm?"

Tyler didn't reply, instead snarling. "Just tell me where she i-"

"She's safe."

It was like a switch was flipped. Elizabeth's eyes suddenly went dark and cold, and her tone flipped to one of anger and resentment.

"You kids..." she shook her head. "You really have no idea what you're doing, do you? Running into quests for gold like headless chickens. I refuse to let my daughter kill herself for some shiny pieces of metal, so I did what was necessary to stop her."

What?

Tyler's eyes widened, and his ears began to ring. His palms went sweaty, and his heart beat faster.

She'd been sent away. Her mother had sent her away, all in a pretend act of caring about her, just so she didn't steal her glory.

Then his eyes caught on something else. Something on the worktop, behind the table where the mugs of tea were. It was a small cardboard box. A pill box.

"Tyler-" Elizabeth said in a warning tone as he shoved past her, darting to where that box was and snatching it up.

And yes, it was just as he'd expected.

Sleeping pills.

Well, that explained the spilt mug.

Tyler wasn't aware he could feel this much anger. It scared him quite a lot, actually, to know he was this angry at something that he wasn't even really involved in.

But he was.

She'd drugged her. Elizabeth Easton had drugged her daughter and sent her away, all for 'her own good'. All so she wouldn't die. But what was there to live for without the Pogues? Tyler had learned that one first hand over the past few months.

"Have you any idea," he turned, looking Elizabeth in the eye, "how amazing your daughter is? Like, even a clue? Or were you too busy with all those boyfriends to even give her half of the attention she deserves?"

"Oh, come now, Tyler," she replied in a bitter, shaky tone. "Let's not mistake you for someone that knows that about he-"

"You drugged her," Tyler snapped. "You fucking drugged her-"

"I did what I had to do!" Elizabeth raised her voice, her face going stern. "I was not letting my daughter kill herself for this, and I don't regret it."

"That wasn't your decision to make," snapped Tyler. "You neglected her, you abused her, you belittled her- you don't get to just pitch up and play happy families now-"

"Says the Kook that's conned her," scoffed Elizabeth. "You're acting like you're staying around, Tyler. And we all know you're not."

Tyler's hands curled into fists. He'd never felt such a strong urge to punch somebody before, and he'd spent the last week with Ruthie Gordon.

"She's everything to me," he snapped. "And unlike some, I actually care about her for the right reasons, and wouldn't fucking drug her to get her to do what I want-"

"Hey! She gave me no choice!" Elizabeth snapped loudly, but Tyler wasn't deterred.

"No choice?!" He yelled. "You've never cared for her your whole life, why are you starting now?"

"I've always cared for her," said Elizabeth.

"Funny way to show it," Tyler snapped. "She's told me everything you've done, and I don't know a whole tonne about how you're supposed to treat someone you love, but neglecting them and causing someone they love to die sure don't seem like great ways to me."

That rendered the redhead in front of him speechless.

"Now, if you want this to end civilly, you're going to tell me where you've sent her," Tyler snarled. "And then you're never going near her again, unless she wants you to."

Elizabeth held his gaze, her own stony.

"I'm not telling you where she is," she said. "You can decide on your own whether you want to go on this death mission, but I am not letting my daughter-"

"She stopped being your daughter the moment her dad died!" Tyler snapped loudly. "So now you're going to tell me where you've sent her, cause I swear to god-"

"I'm leaving now," Elizabeth announced, walking past him and pausing, turning back. "If you're smart, you'll do the same."

Tyler scoffed, shaking his head, spitting at her. "Just walk out the fucking door and never come back."

She rolled her eyes, giving him a scathing look. "You don't deserve my daughter."

Tyler had only two words to say to her as she left.

"I know."

𔓘𔓘𔓘

Things were fuzzy as she came to.

Her limbs felt like lead, and her eyes were droopy.

"Wha...?" She let out, turning her head slightly as she began to take in her surroundings.

It was... bright. There was light flooding in from the windows and she appeared to be... moving?

She was in a car, she realised, as she turned her head slightly. She was lying in the back of a car, her hair all splayed around her, nothing to cushion her head, which was throbbing hard.

Why was she here? What was going on? She couldn't remember anything and her head was hurting so fucking much-

"Elora, honey, are you awake?"

Her head lolled to the side and she looked into the front of the car, where she could see a woman... a woman she didn't recognise that much.

"I..." her mouth moved but she couldn't feel it. "I... what..."

"It's okay, Elora, you're safe," said the woman.

Elora, yes... yeah, that was her name... but what... why was she...?

"What's... happening...?" She asked, trying to sit up-

"No, no, no, no, stay lying down," the woman instructed her. "We have a long journey ahead of us, you deserve to relax."

Long journey...

The way she said that stirred something in Elora's brain. Long journey... she had been going on a long journey, hadn't she? To... to America... or South Africa... or...

"Where...?" She let out, her head lolling to the side, a dull ringing in her ears.

"To a safe house," said the woman, who she still couldn't place. "You're going to be living with me and my daughter, and working on the farm."

Farm? No... no that wasn't it... that wasn't what she was supposed to be doing...

"No... no, I need to..." she began to try and sit up again-

"It's okay, Elora, you're safe," said the woman firmly. "Stay lying down. I'm taking you back to my house, and you're going to be living there a while. So your mother can get a break."

Your mother.

It was those two words precisely that made her remember everything.

The tea, the conversation, the sleeping pills... and she was supposed to be going somewhere, wasn't she? With the Pogues. She was supposed to be going to... to... wait, was she?

"No..." she whispered, her body flailing. "No, I... I need to go..."

"You don't need to go anywhere," said the woman. "You're coming with me."

And she wanted to argue, but... what was she thinking again...? Fuck, her brain was filled with lead and her eyes were shutting and her head felt so dizzy-

When she went under again, all thoughts of her mother vanished from her mind.

And South America.

𔓘𔓘𔓘

Dear Elizabeth,

I received your last letter and would only be too happy to accept your offer. I'd love to take Elora for six months. A year, even, if you need that long. Just a reminder of locations, we're at Bluebell Cottage, 28092 4SD, but I know you probably don't need a reminder of that. And yes, I can put her to work as well. She can work with Elsie, my girl, on the farm.

I'll come and pick her up tomorrow at ten.

Tyler read the note again and again, over and over, before crumpling it in his hands, anger coursing through him.

He hadn't meant to find it, but jesus he was glad he had. Now he had a route and a location to where Elle was being taken.

He took out his phone and typed the postcode into his maps, his blood running cold when he saw that the location she was being taken to by this mysterious person was around fifteen hours away.

Then, he did the weird thing Elora did a month ago, and geolocated the girl's phone. His blood ran cold when he saw it. She was almost five hours away already.

There was no way he'd be able to get there on foot, and JJ had the Twinkie.

But there was also no way he was letting the love of his life slip away again.

His hands were shaking as he clicked on John B's contact, raising his phone to his ear.

"Ty, hey," the boy's voice came through almost immediately. "Have you got Elle?"

"No," Tyler tried to keep his voice devoid of emotion, otherwise he'd break with the amount of rage he was harbouring. "But I found her mom. And I also found out that she drugged her and sent her away to a house fifteen hours away. I tracked her phone and she's about a third of the way there."

"What the hell?" John B demanded.

"I know," said Tyler, putting the call on speaker and looking at the route, which went up the coast. "Listen, I'm gonna go get my family's boat and get up there as fast as I can, then we're gonna sail down to the Orinoco and meet you guys there, okay?"

"What- Tyler, no!" John B objected. "JJ's already running off, we can't have you-"

"I'm not doing this without Elle!" Tyler rebutted, causing JB to fall silent as he continued. "And I owe her so much anyway, so hopefully this can be the first step in making that up."

There was a heavy silence, then, finally, John B sighed and said. "Okay, fine. But listen, you better be there."

"I will be," said Tyler, before fixing that statement. "We will be."

"Alright," he could hear the smile in JB's voice. "Go get your girl, Romeo."

Tyler chuckled slightly. "I will."

When he shut the call off, however, his smile instantly disappeared, and the reality of the situation hit.

"I'm coming, Elle," he whispered. "I promise."

𔓘𔓘𔓘

He was about an hour into the journey, and going as fast as he could.

Stealing the boat had been relatively easy, given the fact that Cynthia basically never rode on it and Topper was out the house, probably still with Ruthie.

As soon as he'd got to it, he had untied the bowlines and other ropes and got straight on the water.

Now, taking a look down at his phone, he saw Elle was still around five hours away, and he was needing to gain speed if he wanted to get her before the sun went down.

He needed to get to her. He needed to see her, to hold her, to explain everything. He could feel the very urge to be close to her bubbling beneath his skin, and he was struggling not to scream because of it.

He was angry. Angry at her mother for drugging her and sending her away, angry at his own for making him become a Kook and forcing him away from her, angry at Topper and Ruthie for being terrible terrible people... he was just angry.

He didn't know how it was possible to be such a terrible person.

And then he remembered that he used to be one, too.

He couldn't help but remember the moment he realised how terrible he was. The moment he wanted to turn around and change his way of life, even if he didn't do so for another four years.

It was seventh grade, and Tyler Thornton was surrounded by a bunch of Kooks by the marina, laughing loudly and making stupid jokes. Ty was in between Topper and Kelce, and he was grinning so hard he thought his face would split in two.

That was until she walked up to him, a small, nervous smile on her face, her cheeks reddened.

"Hey, Tyler?"

All at once, the Kooks went silent. They all just stared at her, at Elora Easton, the girl Tyler had got close to and kissed yesterday for a bet, the girl who's dad had just died, the girl who's mom was a slut.

Then Ruthie, one of the girls in the group, scoffed. "What do you want, Pogue?"

Elora looked at her, a little taken aback. "I-I want to speak to Tyler," she said, looking at the boy. "I was just wondering, you know, after what happened yesterday, would you ever maybe wanna-?"

"Hold up, wait, are you asking him on a date?" Elena, one of the other girls, asked with a snicker.

"I-I mean," Elora stammered, looking back at Tyler, her cheeks flushing bright red. "Y-yeah, if you want it to be."

Tyler was just frozen, staring at her.

He was going to say no. He knew that much himself. He couldn't say yes to her, because going on a date with Elora Easton would be like social suicide, and he would never stoop that low.

But as Topper laughed loudly and shook his head, he couldn't help that a small part of him wanted to say yes.

I mean, she was pretty. And when she'd let her guard down for him and he'd actually seen her, he had to admit that she'd been quite amazing.

And sure, she had a bad reputation, and she wasn't exactly from the best family, but... she was nice, and smart, and funny.

But he had to say no. His mom would kill him and all his friends would never speak to him again if he accepted.

"I'm sorry," he began, holding her gaze, her blue eyes deep and drown-worthy. "But no."

"He doesn't exactly go for Pogues, honey," Lily, another girl, said.

"Yeah, or girls who have mothers like yours," Topper advised.

And Tyler just sat there, not denying any of it.

Kelce laughed loudly.

Ruthie giggled.

Elena told the redhead she was embarrassing.

Topper clapped him on the shoulder.

But Tyler kept his gaze locked on her.

She was about to cry. Her face crumpled, and so did her body. She was about to cry, and for once it wasn't going to be because of her father's death.

He was going to make her cry.

"O-okay," she said, shaking her head. "Alright."

Her hands clenched into fists as she walked off, her red hair flying in the wind.

"Yeah!" Ruthie yelled after her. "Go back to your side, Pogue!"

"Did she actually think," Elena wheezed, "that he was going to say yes?"

"Why not? She's seen her mom with every single man on the island."

"Yeah, and her dad's just died. Does funny things to the brain."

As the Kooks around him laughed and cried and made fun of her, all Tyler could do was clench his jaw and picture the broken expression on her face when he told her no.

And he hadn't just told her no, he'd allowed the others around him to say horrible, horrible things to her, and he hadn't stopped them.

And it was in that moment, that moment precisely, that he realised he'd maybe be better of committing social suicide than hanging around these people.

Because what was the point in being a Kook if he was becoming a terrible person in the process?

The memory flashed through him. The Kooks' words, his own words, Elle's broken look, her eyes filling with tears. He looked up at the setting sun before him, and clenched his jaw, knowing if he didn't the tears he was holding in would fall.

He should've told her yes. He should've made it clear to everyone then and there that he was a Pogue, and not a Kook, instead of waiting four years to.

He looked down at the tracker. They'd been stopped for a few minutes.

"Come on," he muttered, slamming his foot down on the accelerator and causing the boat to speed further and further upriver.

"I'm going to save you, Elle."

𔓘𔓘𔓘

"Have either of them called?" Sarah demanded of John B.

They were at the airstrip; them, Pope and Cleo. The sky was now fully dark, and the plane was still waiting.

"No, nothing," John B shook his head. "Tyler said he'd get Elle and get down there on the boat, but I haven't heard if JJ has Kie."

"We have to go," Sarah announced. "We don't have eight hours, and Topper and Ruthie might have already called the police!"

"Okay, okay, I'll call him," said John B.

However, next second, the revving of a motorcycle engine came into earshot and they all spotted one racing down the tracks.

"That might be JJ right there," said Cleo hopefully.

But it wasn't.

Because as the motorcycle stopped right next to the tracks and two people got off it, removing their helmets, they saw that it was Ward Cameron.

And Elizabeth Easton.

Ward was groaning, and further inspection showed that his right thigh was bleeding heavily, a knife wound.

"Hey, it's okay, you're okay," Elizabeth seemed fine as she got off the bike, helping Ward. "Come on, Ward, you're good."

The four Pogues before them were frozen, looking at them in shock as Ward collapsed off the bike, screaming in pain.

"Help! Please, help!" Elizabeth shouted, but none of them moved a muscle. She knelt to the ground and picked Ward, who was ghostly pale, up. "Come on, come on, you got it, you got it- please, please, come on!"

Sarah, who looked seriously torn, darted forward. "What happened?"

"Take him on the plane," Elizabeth instructed, and between her and Sarah, the two managed to support Ward, who was still groaning, across the airstrip and onto the plane.

"A fisherman spotted him," grunted Elizabeth. "They know he's alive, and we need to get him off the island right now."

None of them said anything as Elizabeth took Ward onto the plane and Sarah climbed back down, her hands in her hair, shaking her head.

"Shit, this cannot be happening!" She cursed, running back up the steps again and into the plane.

"No," Pope said to the other two. "Hell no. We can- we heard what Elizabeth did to Elle, and that's Ward, we are not going on the plane with them, no way!"

John B didn't reply, his eyes levelled towards the ground, his hands clenched into fists.

"Are we still going?" Cleo demanded of him, as Sarah, panting, came back down the steps and out the plane. Cleo looked at her, anticipating her reply. "'Don't worry, he's not coming'?"

"He wasn't supposed to," Sarah corrected her, looking at John B. "Neither of them were. But listen, my dad stays on this island, he gets arrested-"

"No, no, Sarah, I don't think you understand," John B shot back. "I don't know if I can get on a plane with that guy, and fucking hell, we all know what Elizabeth's done-"

"Just listen, John B, this is his plane! I can't stop him from leaving!" Sarah hissed. "But he will still give us a ride to the Orinoco, so if you don't wanna get on the plane, I get it, we'll find another way!"

John B shook his head. "There's no other way. Let's go."

And so, in the fucking insanity of everything, John B, Sarah, Pope and Cleo got on the plane with Ward Cameron and Elizabeth Easton.

All they could do now was pray that everything would be fine.

𔓘𔓘𔓘

He was closing in on her.

They must have stopped for a while, because now, he was barely five minutes away, the boat cruising down the river at an amazing speed. The sky was dark by now, the sun having set longsince, so the lights on the boat were one of the only ways he could see where he was going.

He was filled with adrenaline and anger and fear. What if she didn't want to go with him? What if she shrugged him off because of what he'd done? What would happen then?

He wouldn't give up on her, he knew he never would, but he couldn't help but think all of this, because what if she wasn't the same as before?

His blood boiled the closer he got, slamming his foot down on the pedal of the boat, revving the engine further and further.

He'd muted all his notifications, because by now no doubt his mother was already arranging his travel to Kansas, and getting someone to personally escort him there after he stole the boat.

He didn't care. If he died trying to find El Dorado maybe she'd finally be happy.

He checked the phone again. She was moving slowly, and she was one minute away, slightly in land.

Up ahead, there was a small boat dock, and he wasted no time in speeding up there, turning the engine and the boat lights off and rushing to tie the boat up, grunting slightly as his calloused hands worked the ropes.

Once he was done he straightened up, checking his phone.

They were on the fucking move again. Two minutes from where he was.

He ran. His legs ached and his gelled hair felt so fucking stuck, but he did it. He had to get to her, he just had to.

The road he was running on was a small one that ran up the coast, all but deserted apart from him. He was panting now, running through the dark with only a flashlight to see the way.

The car was moving slowly when he finally saw it, a burst of relief exploding inside his chest as he sprinted faster, her name tearing from his throat once, twice, three times.

"Elle! Elle! Elora!"

He caught up to the car, banging on the window, trying the handle, yelling her name.

When he looked inside, what he saw horrified him.

Elora was inside, laid across the back seat, her face drained of all colour, her red hair sticking to the skin due to the sheen of sweat forming there.

"ELLE!" He shouted, banging on the windows, getting the attention of the woman inside, who promptly stopped the car.

"What are you playing at, young man?" She demanded as she undid her belt and got out the car, her face angry. She was older than Tyler had expected, her hair white, her face littered with wrinkles.

Somehow, seeing her made Tyler want to explode. She symbolised Elizabeth to him, and he wanted to scream at her that what she was doing was terrible and that she needed to stop.

"You're kidnapping a girl," he spat right at her, clenching his fists.

"Kidnapping?" The woman raised her eyebrows. "Her mother asked me to take her, I'm not kidnapping anyone-"

"Her mother is a piece of shit!" Tyler yelled. "She was missing for a month and then just turned back up one day and decided to control Elle's life, so I'll thank you to-"

"T-Tyler...?"

Neither of them had noticed Elora moving. Or stretching her arm out and opening the door.

But next second, Tyler was turning to her, seeing her droopy eyes and hearing her slurred voice, saying. "Elle."

"Tyler-"

He kneeled down, cupping his hands to her cold yet sweaty cheeks, saying her name again and again, because it was her, and she was here and in his arms and safe.

But when he made to lift her out the car, the woman behind him snapped. "Oh no you don't, sonny-"

"We're leaving now," Tyler shot up fast and turned to face her, his eyes flaming. "If you try to follow us, I'll call the cops and tell them you're kidnapping a minor."

"You little-"

"I mean it," Tyler snapped.

They held each other's gaze for a second before she relented, clenching her jaw and watching as Tyler turned and kneeled back down next to Elora, gently wiping her hair back from her face.

"Tyler..." she murmured, looking up at him. "Ty..."

"Elle, I'm here," Tyler whispered to her, cupping her face in his hands. "I'm here, I'm right here. Now, listen I'm gonna lift you, alright?"

Her body was limp and heavier than usual as he slowly got her out the car, holding her bridal style in his arms.

"Thank you," he told the woman sharply after he had her in his arms. "Don't make a habit of kidnapping teens, will you?"

She gave him one last scathing look and then he was gone, off into the night with his girl in his arms.

"T-Tyler...?" Elle said again as they got back to the boat and he lay her down in the back of it.

"Yeah?" Tyler asked her, frowning slightly.

She looked at him, her blue eyes crossing slightly with the strain. When she spoke, her voice was soft and sleepy. "I love you."

He looked at her in awe and wonder as his insides fucking flipped at those words. He hadn't heard them in ages, and he'd missed them.

Her eyes were shut by the time he was brought back to his senses, and he sighed slightly, grabbing a couple of the blankets he'd taken from her house and gently shaking them out, covering her in them.

As he did so, he couldn't help but smile. This felt good. Having her sleep in the back of his boat as he rode them down to South America. It felt right.

"I love you too, Elle," he murmured, after he'd undone the ropes and was sitting in the driver's seat.

And as they set off, he didn't notice her eyes creeping open slightly, and the ghost of a smile drifting onto her face.

But if he had, he'd have been happier than ever.

𔓘𔓘𔓘

Ward groaned as Elizabeth cleaned his wound with the rubbing alcohol she'd found on the plane, whilst the Pogues stared daggers at them from the seats behind.

"That's good," Ward sucked a breath in as she began to bandage him up. "Thank you, Elizabeth."

As the redhead sat back, Ward turned, saying. "John."

John B looked up, anger not being a suitable word for his expression.

"Thank you too," said Ward. "I know you won't believe it, but... you have nothing to worry about from either of us. Not anymore. We're just here to help you."

John B scoffed. "Tell that to Elora."

Elizabeth clenched her jaw, shaking her head.

"She's my daughter," she told him. "And I have a right to stop her from heading into life threatening situations."

"Well, you haven't managed it," John B replied.

Elizabeth frowned slightly, clearly confused. "What do you mean?"

Sarah bit her lip, mumbling. "Tyler's gone to get her and they're meeting us there."

Shock, anger, and then rage passed Elizabeth's face and she scoffed slightly, shaking her head.

"It's no surprise," snapped John B. "He told us what you did to her."

"That was so I could save her-"

"Save her?" John B repeated.

"Yes, from this death mission," snapped Elizabeth. "She doesn't have any business being part of it and neither do you."

John B rolled his eyes, saying. "My dad'd father have me rescue him than you."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Your dad and I have been friends for longer than you've been breathing, John B. I'm sure I know what he'd rather-"

"I'm done with this," John B announced, getting up and making to head out the room they were in and towards the bathroom. "Tell me when she's stopped being a delusional bitch."

But he knew he'd never get told.

Because Elizabeth Easton would never stop being a delusional bitch.

𔓘𔓘𔓘

Her head was pounding.

Her limbs felt weak.

Her eyes were still threatening to shut every two seconds.

She was sat upright at the back of the Thornton's boat, wrapped up in blankets, her red hair whipping her face. The sky was still dark, but it was beginning to lighten.

She didn't remember much of last night, just that Tyler had saved her from her mother's cruel way of keeping her 'safe'. She was still trying to recover, still trying to understand how she'd let that happen to herself, but she was managing.

She cast her gaze forwards at Tyler, who was focused on driving the boat, and couldn't help but smile.

He'd saved her. Despite everything, he'd saved her. He'd noticed she wasn't at the airstrip, and abandoned everything just for her.

She really hoped that once he took it upon himself to explain, she could understand why he'd done what he did, because she didn't understand any of it. How could a boy that had stood in front of her and proclaimed not to love her not a week ago now suddenly be saving her from sleeping pill kidnappings?

She didn't understand it, but to be honest right now, she didn't care.

She also didn't remember telling him she loved him last night.

But she did.

She really, truly did.