𝟏𝟏𝟎.          𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝, 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢 𝐠𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤

runaway              ────            aurora

☀︎ 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯

𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱𝖤'𝖲 𝖠𝖫𝖶𝖠𝖸𝖲 𝖡𝖤𝖤𝖭 𝖮𝖭𝖤 𝖰𝖴𝖤𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖮𝖭 𝖠𝖳 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖥𝖮𝖱𝖤𝖥𝖱𝖮𝖭𝖳 𝖮𝖥 𝖬𝖸 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖣 𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖭𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖱 𝖳𝖧𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 𝖧𝖠𝖵𝖤 𝖦𝖮𝖭𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖲𝖧𝖨𝖳．

If I could, would I go back?

If given the opportunity, would I go all the way back to when things were simpler── when Dad was just a missing person, when John B and I looked forward to the summer with our friends, when we were just a couple of kids stirring up some friendly trouble for the hell of it.

The truth is, the more things get fucked up for us, the more I wish that, when we saw that fucking boat under the water that held Dad's compass all those moons ago, we'd just left well enough alone. I wish we'd just continued along, travelling over it and leaving the boat untouched and underneath the water as that boat has brought us to here.

Crazy to think that one decision of jumping into the water to check a sunken boat led to all this.

So when things go to shit, I think of that question of, "If I could, would I go back?"

Yes. Yes, I would.

Maybe some would say I'm lying or that I'm crazy to think such a thing, but after everything we've been through, can you really blame me for wanting to be sent back in time? Here we are, handling another loss after we just thought we'd finally caught a break. How unfair is that?

I mean, our lives don't sound real, not in any kind of way. As lame as it may seem, I want my life to seem real, not like some form of fiction where I'm battling for my life every single day, trapped in life or death situations that, sooner or later, will catch up with us.

Truth is, I want a life I'm not afraid of.

Don't get me wrong, while we've lost, we've also gained a lot. At the beginning, there was just five of us, now there's eight and we're a family── a fucked up family but a family nonetheless. My brother found love, and now he's married with a baby on the way. Pope found his soulmate after heartbreak over Kiara. She, Kiara, found love too, finding it in a girl who is the equivalent of a thorn. I got the boy of my dreams who I had been crushing on since I was eight-years-old, and now we're getting married. I made friends with a kid who I ended up loving, though that ended badly.

We've all gained, that's true, but we've also lost a great deal. I'm not just talking about losing gold or crosses or crowns.

No, I'm talking about ourselves.

The sad truth is, after all this time, bits and pieces of ourselves are beginning to decay. It's not all that surprising given that we've suffered a great deal, but it's hard hitting either way. Each of us, though we won't explicitly admit it, are drained and utterly exhausted, allowing chunks of our beings to rot away with all the losses.

We're exhausted now more than we've ever been, sitting ducks on a stolen police boat because JJ and Emory are suspected killers.

We're currently sailing into the marina, hoping nobody will spot us but let's face it, we're Pogues sitting in a police boat without the police. Sure, we're attempting to keep low but people can absolutely see us if they look this way. Basically, we just need people to not look in this direction as we observe the boats that are currently docked on the marina.

"Alright, guys, we gotta boost a boat that can make it to Morocco. Take your pick. We got a lot to choose from."

Stealing a boat from a marina that is crowded with people will not be easy, especially when the boats that are docked here absolutely belong to Kooks who will not be happy if they catch onto us stealing. Also, with the cops already looking for us, we're basically in a lose-lose situation.

Then again, when are we not?

"What about that one?" Sarah gestures to one of the many boats, though I know that thing won't take us all the way to faraway Morocco.

"It's a flat hull. It's not gonna make it across the ocean," John B explains. "Also, they break down all the time."

"Hey, that's Rafe's new boat," Kiara points out, each of us looking towards Rafe's beauty of a boat that, in another lifetime, maybe I could own as in this fake lifetime I'd like to imagine myself as crazy rich. "It's nice."

"I'd be with you on that one, but the reality is, it's not going to make it across the ocean either," John B speaks. "It's not big enough. Groff would nab the crown before we were halfway to Morocco."

"Not if I stab him first," Emory sing-songs, flicking her knife open again.

I don't doubt that Emory is going to do everything in her power to seek revenge on her father, but with revenge comes consequences that I'm afraid she won't listen to, not when she's a woman on a mission. She's also a woman with a death wish most days, let me tell you, and I fear what will occur once she gets her hands on Groff.

"What about this one right here?" We each look to a boat called Lost Boy, finding it to be another piece of beauty.

"You know that's, like, a two-million dollar boat."

"It's pretty," Sarah comments.

"Big engine," John B inputs.

"I think that's the one," Kiara decides, offering us a firm smile.

Count on us to have the most expensive taste, huh?

"You know, we could all go to jail for taking a boat like that," Pope tells, stating the obvious.

"Pope, you're gonna go to jail for the things you already did," Cleo argues, making a comment you'd never think to relate to Pope, not the one who was insistent on going to college and getting a scholarship. He was supposed to be the good, unflawed seed of the group.

"Yep, and JJ and I are gonna be right there with you," Emory whistles, slapping a hand on Pope's shoulder.

"Nothing to worry about," JJ assures, beginning to stand up from his place beside me, the two of us barely offering one another a glance never mind a word. "We're just gonna borrow it." I watch him jump up and onto the boat, my heart in my throat as I worry about him hurting himself more than he already has. I know that gash on his abdomen has to be hurting, so for him to be jumping about so soon is not ideal.

He ties the rope from the police boat to the hook of the bigger boat, making sure we're able to make a run for it just in case things don't go as smoothly as we want them to. "Alright. Come on."

JJ extends his hand to me and, of course, I push my hand into his, allowing him to bring me up and onto the larger boat. I slip, my chest hitting his as I look up, finding him to be staring down at me, eyes burning into mine. About a thousand unspoken words pass between our gaze, a cloud of emotion caught up in the silence.

He brushed me off earlier, I can't ignore that as it stung more than I'd like to admit. Sure, he's currently dealing with the weight of being framed with murder but I'm afraid he's going to keep pushing me away until I'm hanging on the edge of this wall he's putting up brick by brick.

I'm afraid of this── of losing him to his head, to his dark thoughts. I'm fucking terrified.

I know him so well, so I know it's only a matter of time before he retreats into him. I saw it earlier when we talked and cried together but I was able to thaw through and keep him from disappearing. Now, with this murder charge slapping him in the face, I'm scared I'm losing him all over again.

If I could, would I go back? Yes.

"Looks like nobody's home," Cleo speaks from behind me, forcing me to bring my eyes off JJ and focus on the task at hand── stealing a two-million dollar boat.

His hand falls out of mine first, his body turning away and going to check inside. I stand still for a moment, just staring at where his hand was, feeling something tighten in my chest as, even after a few seconds, his touch lingers on my skin, making me want to bring him back in and assure him that all will be okay even though I have no right to make such empty promises.

I don't want to lose him, not to those scary thoughts in his head. I can't let him lose himself and push me away in the process.

I lift my head, swallowing some kind of sting in my throat as somebody plants a hand on my shoulder. I flinch, turning to find Emory. "You good?"

"Hm." I sniffle, gracing her with my realest fake smile before I step away, finding the boys beginning to climb up to the wheel while us girls stay below, not wanting to handle whatever work comes with getting this boat to start.

Kiara stops in front of me, eyes narrowing. "You okay?"

My eyes flicker from her to Emory, their concern for me not needed. We've already established that while I'm feeling battered and bruised, I am completely fine unlike some. Sure, I feel a little nauseous and tired but that's just a normal feeling for me at this point.

In fact, I feel more nauseous than I ever have before, and I suspect it has something to do with this fear of something just going catastrophically wrong for us.

"Yep," I breathe out, stomach churning.

Her head tilts, not seeming as persuaded as Emory was, though Kiara can read me better than most. "No bullshit, Brooke."

I scoff, knowing she hasn't done the whole 'no bullshit' thing since forever ago── the last time being when the Chateau caught on fire and she was going through something with her parents. Though, when you think back to the very beginning, the 'no bullshit' card was tossed around a few times when the possibility of us was a thing. "You're no-bullshitting me, really?"

"Yep," she mocks, crossing her arms over her chest. "What's wrong?"

Emory's face scrunches. "No bullshit? What's that bullshit?" I raise a brow at Kiara, challenging her as I so don't wanna talk about myself, and it sure is fun to see Kiara fluster over how to respond to such a thing.

Kiara clears her throat. "Nothing."

"Right, well, she ain't gonna talk, Kie."

"That's right. I'm not." I pass Kiara and Emory, going to check on the boys who, to me, are taking the piss and we don't have long before we get caught. Though I don't make it to the boys, my eyes catching onto something on the dock.

"Shit. Coppers! Coppers!" Cleo yells, our attention snagged on the police who are running up the dock to get to us.

"Oh, shit."

If I could, would I go back? Yep.

"JJ Maybank and Emory Thorne, we have a warrant for your arrest!"

We then move quickly, heading straight back to the police boat that's tied up to this boat we, of course, unsuccessfully stole as things can never just go our way for once, can they? "Guys, go!" I shove Emory and Kiara ahead of me, watching them climb into the boat after Cleo.

"We still gotta find a boat to get to Morocco," Pope says like we don't know how much we need a boat to get to Morocco.

"Yeah, but first we gotta ditch these cops."

With Pope's help, we're brought back onto the boat with John B and Sarah just behind us. I look over my shoulder, finding JJ to be lagging behind, tripping over his own feet as he goes for the rope. "Hey, JJ. Come on!" The cops are going to catch up with us sooner or later, and I'd rather it be fucking later. Or never, whatever comes first.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" Grabbing the rope, he brings himself onto the boat, stumbling right into me but, like always, I steady him just as Cleo takes control of the boat, insisting she can go much faster than John B which is probably true. Sorry, bro.

"This is Kildare Police! Come out slowly! Hands in the air!"

Cleo kickstarts the boat, sending us across the water just as sirens ring out on land. Casting a look to the dock, we find a single cop sprinting down in the hopes of catching up to us but unless he can somehow fly, he ain't getting near this boat.

"Shit, that guy." Based on the disdain in Pope's tone, I suspect that's the cop he tackled in order to protect me and JJ when we were trapped in Zeasy's house.

"What are you doing?" I hear the alarm in Kiara's voice, and all my attention is drawn away from the cop and to my fiancé who is opening an orange emergency container. "What is that?"

"What are you doing?" I ask, bending down to sit beside him just as he brings out a flare gun which, from afar, may look like a very real gun.

"I'm helping," he bites out, turning away from me to aim the flare gun at the officer who stands on the dock, likely unaware that this weapon is... harmless. Well, maybe not entirely harmless, but definitely more so than a fucking gun.

I avert my gaze from JJ, refocusing on the officer. My eyes widen in horror as I catch the officer pointing a very real gun at JJ, preparing to shoot. "No." Acting on gut instinct, I do the only thing that makes sense to me. "JJ!"

I shove JJ as hard as I can just as he releases the flare. He grunts, his body falling back just as I slot myself into his previous place. I the hear a gunshot sound, the flare exploding right before me just as I squeeze my eyes shut, expecting myself to be hit and injured by that bullet.

A beat passes and I feel no pain, my eyes reopening to instead find the cop being shoved to the ground by none other than Emory's father. I hear Emory gasp behind me, surprise flared in her expression. "Dad."

He stares at his daughter, a sad look passing between them. This man just lost his wife and now he's losing his daughter to a wrongful murder charge. From what I knew, he was a drunk who refused to get up from the sofa, though it seems that, when the time is right, he'd fight tooth and nail for his kid. He saved us.

"What the hell was that?"

I'm brought out of my daze, my head turning to John B who looks just about ready to kill me. "You could've been shot!"

I shake my head. "JJ was gonna get..."

"I was not," he fights, earning a scowl from my brother and a scoff from me. "What?"

"He was going to shoot you, JJ," I argue, pushing my hands into my hair.

"Yeah, well, I didn't get shot, Brooke." He holds the flare gun up, gesturing to the fact that he protected himself if that's what you wanna call it.

"Yeah, because my sister was about to take the bullet for you! What the hell is wrong with you?" I think he's asking both of us, but I have no idea how to respond to such a thing.

I don't know what happened. I saw a gun and I reacted as naturally as I could. I jumped, ready and willing to have the bullet embedded into my skin rather than into JJ's, and now it seems I've pissed off my brother which I don't understand. It's not like the bullet actually hit either of us.

"We're leaking!" Pope shouts, forcing us to look away from John B who, I imagine, is not done with his questioning on why I was so stupid to shove JJ out of the way when faced with a gun. Instead, we focus on the bigger problem at hand── the problem involving the giant hole in the boat from said gunshot.

"Ah, shit, man!"

"They shot the boat."

"Fuck," I curse, moving to stand.

"They shot the boat," John B repeats, glaring right at JJ like this is his fault. Wishing he wouldn't take this shit out on him, I shove at his shoulder, forcing him to help Pope who is beginning to cover the hole with his hands, hoping that'll be enough to stop us from drowning.

"Check for a patch!"

"I'm looking!" JJ shouts, beginning to rummage through the emergency kit frantically, coming up empty because, once again, the world just ain't on our side.

"I need something to cover it up! We're losing air. We gotta get somewhere fast!"

"Head into the moor, okay?"

If I could, would I go back? Absolutely.

From where we are, Cleo steers us to land, bringing us to safety just as the boat begins to give out on us, the air leaving it in a way that has one end of the boat dipping downwards. "This thing is sinking," she tells, moving the boat towards the sand.

"The cops will be here any minute. We've gotta fix this thing fast," John B says just as Cleo brings us to a stop on dry land.

"Fix it with what?" Unless one of us can magic tape out of our ass, we're fucking screwed.

Cleo gets out of the boat, examining the damage now that we're on land. We each follow lead, getting out of the shitty shot-up boat and moving through the water to reach the land. "Really, rude boy? Look what you did."

"They would've hit us with a couple more if I didn't fire," JJ chews out.

"You shot at them first." Cleo steps past him to join us on dry land. "She's done. Not coming back," she informs, looking directly at us.

"Great," Kiara utters, shaking her head.

"How are we gonna get out of here now?"

"How about we ask my sister who thought it would be a good fucking idea to jump in front of a bullet." My mouth gapes, my head snapping over my shoulder to my dear, old brother who just has to pick a fight with me at this given moment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise I had to run every decision by you," I fight, already agitated enough as it is.

"You could have been killed, Brooke!"

"Well, I'm not, alright? I'm fine!"

"Yeah, but you could've been killed, do you realise that?" He's walking towards me, looking a little too similar to Dad in the way he looks at me, so glaringly disappointed, it hurts. "Taking a bullet for someone who thought it was a good idea to shoot at a cop!"

"Here we go, alright," JJ mutters, turning towards us, looking over at me and John B. "I fired a flare over their head, yeah, to slow them down, which is exactly what it did."

"You realise we're all in danger now? All of us. All of us are screwed."

"Well, what else is new?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest as I look at the guy who resembles me in more ways than one.

"Can this wait? We're trying to figure out how to get out of here," Kiara calls out, knowing we don't need a fight right now when we need a game plan. Not sure what the game plan will be when we're basically screwed but whatever.

"I didn't ask any of you guys to come help me, alright? I didn't want any of you to come follow me!" JJ shouts, his raise in tone alarming.

He didn't want any of us following him?

"Follow you?" John B choruses, scoffing.

"Yeah, follow me!"

"You think we had any other choice, JJ?" I swallow harshly, watching JJ look away, head shaking vigorously. John B moves away from me, going to crowd JJ now. "What about Brooke? She was just about ready to kill herself for you!"

"I didn't ask her to do that!" JJ yells, not offering me a single glance as he stares at my brother.

"I didn't see you try and stop her!"

"I didn't know she was going to!"

"I'm right fucking here!" I yell, growing more and more frustrated the more the men in my life speak for me.

"Well, what about Pope, huh? He just threw away his whole life for you!"

JJ brings his eyes off John B, instead looking to Pope. "Pope, I don't know why you did what you did, man, okay? I didn't ask you to do that!" His head snaps back to John B. "I didn't ask you to involve yourself, John B. I didn't ask Brooke to take a bullet for me." I watch the boy I love closely, seeing him retreat into this self-fulfilling prophecy he has of everything being his fault before he even explicitly states it. "But, no, it's always my fault. Always."

"No, it isn't," I breathe out, speaking so quietly that nobody hears me.

I promised him that nobody would ever, ever blame him, but it seems I was wrong in saying such a thing. I mean, just last night I thought I was right in saying that nobody would blame him.

"...nobody here blames you, okay, not for a second. We'd never, ever blame you, so I need you to stop blaming yourself..." is what I said to him, making him believe that, for one shining moment, all was okay as nobody blamed him, not for anything that's happened.

I am now the reason he's now going to ignore everything I previously said, especially when John B says the one thing I never, ever thought he'd say to his own best friend.

"Yeah, it is your fault. It is your fault."

"John B, what──"

"Hey!" Emory snaps, obviously ready to defend her brother despite all that's happened.

"Just like the Enduro was your fault, JJ!" John B adds, only adding fuel to the fire.

"I don't wanna have to punch you, JB, but──"

"Okay, then, go!" JJ screams, his voice cracking just as I literally feel a piece of my heart crack too. "Alright, I'll take the hit! I'll gladly do it too, alright?! Because my life is already over in the first place."

The harsh snap of his words feels like a slap in the face as I question whether I am worth anything to him. Over? His life is over? That's what he thinks? Really? I'm standing right here, ready and willing to defend him against my own brother when he has to go and say something so... firm. He thinks his life is over just like that?

I'm right here, does he not realise that?

I move forward, going towards him. I push past John B, not caring what he must be thinking about me right now as I cannot let JJ believe that his life is just... over, not when we told each other all the plans and goals and dreams we have for our future. I'm not letting him give up, not even with John B blaming him for something that, once again, is not his fault. I can't let him crawl into the darkness of his mind, not again. I need him to not give up.

"JJ, hey." I go to touch his hand but he steps back, bringing both hands away from me, and I feel that sting return to my throat as I watch him slip away. Regardless, I force myself to speak and hope that he hears me. "You have me, JJ."

His eyes meet mine, blue meeting brown in a cold, cold way that doesn't feel familiar to me. Where they've always found each other in the warmth, they've never sought comfort in the freezing ice, but now it seems I'm being greeted by a blue I don't know. It's like looking into the eyes of a stranger, as sad as that seems.

"How much longer will I have you, Brooke?"

He sounds uncertain. He makes it seem like I'm just gonna leave him to take the fall, to go to prison for a crime he didn't commit, to give up. He's crazy, is what he is. He can't possibly be uncertain about how I feel about him, about how I'd stand by him regardless, how I'll be Bonnie to his Clyde, the Harley Quinn to his Joker── whatever the fuck he wants, I will be to him.

"You have me for life," I exclaim, throat burning and constricting. "We have each other for life, JJ. I am not leaving you, okay?"

"You're better off without me, Sunshine."

Even the way he says the nickname he graced me with all those years ago, it sounds like a stranger relaying the name, and I hate it.

If I could, would I go back? Now more than ever.

I open my mouth, failing to speak as a siren rings out from the water. "Hey!" Fucking Shoupe is moving towards us, dragging his feet through the water. He must be feeling pretty good about himself knowing that he's going to be locking up criminals for a crime they didn't commit.

"And there's Shoupe," John B drawls.

"You guys finally did it. Beached yourselves," he says, stepping to the sand, beginning to walk right towards us. "JJ, Emory, I've got you."

"Ah, thank God Moustache is here to save the day," Emory deadpans.

"I know, we──"

"And guess what? I got a warrant this time," he informs, his gaze cutting to me. "Brooke, you're just as wanted as them for that damage downtown, alright?"

"Oh, yes, I'm aware," I mutter, dropping my gaze.

"And you..." Shoupe looks to Pope. "...ditching your tracking device? No bueno. I thought you were the smart one." He is the smart one, criminal record or not, and Shoupe is in no place to judge. "You've dug a hole about as deep as it can get, so just put down your shovels and come with me."

"No, you want them for murder. They didn't murder anyone!" Kiara defends, gesturing to Emory who stands beside her, head shaking in disbelief.

"Look, I got a good idea of what they did and didn't do, okay? We just gotta let the courts sort it out."

"Oh, yeah, because they're not bias, are they?"

Shoupe sighs, ignoring Emory. "All I know is that I got a warrant for all four of you. And I'm tired of this goose chase, so it ends here. Y'all come with me now."

This was it. This was the end, if you wanna call it that. We're going down. We're guilty. Pope will be in prison for breaking his parole. I'll be in prison for property destruction. JJ will be in prison for property destruction and a murder he didn't commit. Finally, Emory will also be in prison for a murder she didn't commit.

This was it.

If I could, would I go back? Fucking yes.

"Hey!" As if this day couldn't get any worse, Rafe Cameron makes a special fucking appearance.

"What the hell?"

Why is he walking to us?

"Listen, I'm just here to save everyone's asses, okay?" We each look at one another, so completely puzzled as to why he of all people is coming to us. "Shoupe, I gotta talk to you. Listen, you're missing a part of this picture."

"Hey, hey! Stay back! Stay back!" Shoupe shouts, reaching for his gun.

Rafe immediately backs up, his arms raising. "Jesus Christ! What are you gonna do, shoot me?" Yeah, because that would be a good fucking idea right about now. "Huh? You're looking for Chandler Groff, yeah?"

I rear my head back, more and more surprising hits coming my way. How does he know about Groff?

Shoupe shrugs. "Maybe."

"Groff was scamming with Hollis this entire time, alright? If you ask me, it was probably Groff that killed her, not..." Rafe waves his hand at JJ and Emory, dismissing the idea of them being the killers. "...them." Emory and JJ share a look, trying to figure out, like the rest of us, if Rafe Cameron is actually helping us right now.

Are pigs flying? Am I dead? What is going on?

"What, did you already think that?" Rafe questions, watching Shoupe closely. "Yeah, Groff probably killed Genrette, too. And that body── the body in the dunes? You got that on Groff?" The more he speaks, the more baffling this gets because how does he have so much information on a man he shouldn't even know. "Listen, you can bring these lowlifes in for some vandalism, disturbing the peace bullshit, or you can get the big fish. These guys know where Groff is."

Shoupe swings his attention back to us. "Yeah. Where is he?"

"Out of your jurisdiction, Shoupe," John B replies.

"Way out," Kiara adds.

"Try out the country," Pope follows on.

"We were on our way to get him, and then you showed up," John B explains.

"In that?" Shoupe points to the deflated police boat that just looks sad and pathetic now.

"No. That." Rafe points behind him to a big fishing ship out on the water named Debbie Ann. Where did he get that? Why is he defending us? Why is he helping us? I've never been more lost in all my life. "They know where he is, and I can get them there, alright, but they can't do shit if they're all locked up."

"And just let 'em go? No, thanks." He shakes his head, looking from Rafe to us. "I tell you what, here's what we're gonna do. You come with me, you tell us where Groff is, and I guarantee ya, we'll go easy on you. Hell, your charges may disappear. Quid pro quo, you ever heard of that?"

We each shake our heads, not agreeing to that as we know there's no going easy on us, not when Emory and JJ are up on literal murder charges. We've never been dealt an easy card so I don't imagine we'll be dealt one now even if we do cooperate.

"Just like you did when I was framed for a murder I didn't commit?" John B points out, earning a turn away from Shoupe who knows exactly how he treated my brother when all went down when Peterkin died.

"Think about it," Rafe speaks up again. "Hollis, dead. Genrette, dead. Downtown's trashed. You're on the chopping block, okay? I hear what people are saying about you, alright? You're gonna lose your job. It's game over, man. Unless you bring the killer to justice all by your lonesome. So, what's it gonna be? I mean, some bullshit charges on these low-rent Pogues who didn't do shit?"

"He's got a point," Cleo comments, the rest of us agreeing silently which is not common. We aren't the type of people to agree with anything that Rafe Cameron has to say. Hell, we aren't even people who listen to this bastard.

"Or you solve the crime of the century and you save your job," Rafe concludes.

"You know, you're sounding a lot like your old man. And that's not a compliment," Shoupe jabs. "Now I'm getting corned by another friggin' Cameron here?"

Rafe nods along, stepping closer to him. "Okay, then, added bonus. When we get back, and you got Groff locked up..." He pauses, exhaling a heavy breath. "I'll tell you what happened last summer on the runway. When you found me out there on the tarmac? The real deal, right? I know you wanna know."

"You wanna know what I want to know? I wanna know about another little runway incident from a while back. How 'bout that?"

Rafe continues to nod, lips pursed. "All I'm saying is that all this would look really good for an elected official in the hot seat. You know? Get it all wrapped up in one package."

John B is moving forward, prepared to offer something else. "How about this?" He looks to Shoupe. "We find Groff..." He pauses. "...we'll call you. He's all yours."

Fucking Shoupe can have him, I don't care, and Shoupe knows that getting Chandler Groff will solve all these problems he's having. He knows that getting to him will allow him to be seen as a hero on the island. He'll have his victory.

Sirens sound, seeming to edge closer and closer to where we stand, but we can't make any attempt to move until Shoupe contemplates and decides our ultimate fate.

Will we lose? Will we win?

Shoupe releases an agitated breath, giving in. "I eat shit either way. Alright. Yeah, you're welcome. Go on, before the cavalry gets here. Get out of here."

One by one, my friends begin to follow Rafe who is walking towards the boat, each of us just as equally surprised that Shoupe actually gave in. I, on the other hand, don't move after my friends just yet. I instead go to the sinking police boat we stole to retrieve my sketchbook.

No, I don't need it for me. Not right now. I need this thing for somebody else.

I stop in front of Shoupe, the sirens continuing to ring out near me, but I need to do this right now as it's my only chance. "Thank you," I start, knowing that I need to be somewhat generous as I have a favour to ask.

"Get going, Brooklyn."

I shove my sketchbook into his hands, forcing him to take it. "Where the Chateau was, there's a treehouse. Put this at the bottom of the ladders and then walk away."

"Why would I do this?"

"Because we're gonna get Groff for you, alright?" We're gonna try our damn hardest, but one way or another, Groff will be in Shoupe's hands. "Just please do this one favour for me and I will never get in your way again."

"That's a bold comment."

"I know, but I mean it, alright? I promise."

He looks down at the sketchbook, probably lost on why I need it delivered to that location but I'm not in the place to answer his questions, not when I need to go. He lifts his gaze back to me, nodding slowly. "Alright. Get outta here, Brooklyn."

I release a breath, a little relieved. "Thank you."

I begin to move quickly to catch up with my friends, needing to reach them.

"You better find his ass, or I will hunt you down!" Shoupe shouts, leaving us with his final parting words that are oh, so sweet.

I fall in step with Emory and Kiara. "What was that about?" Kiara asks.

"My way of helping Matilda."

If I could, would I go back? Yes, but it's too late now.

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❀ soph speaks

fuck things are all downhill from here

im apologising now for what is coming in the next chapter for my babies but jj is not doing so good 

rafe is iconic in these last episodes

you may hear from matilda again before this act is finished but im not saying anything

thankyou for reading!!