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Kiara stands in the tiny bathroom in the condo Ward left for Sarah, fingers tight around the edge of the counter, leaning forwards slightly as she takes a deep breath. She’s showered and dressed, she’s brushed her teeth – she’s done all she needs to do in here, but she still finds herself frozen and unable to move.
It’s not the first time this has happened and it’s probably not the last either, but that doesn’t make it any less frustrating. That doesn’t help her to unclench her grip and step back. It’s like sometimes she gets hit by grief, by anxiety, by an overwhelming surge of emotions, and it simply stops her in her tracks. It’s not a panic attack, though she’s had her share of those too, but her body freezing, needing time to buffer before she continues with her day.
She wasn’t always like this – an emotional mess of a girl, barely pieced back together after her life was ripped apart. She used to be confident and headstrong, so sure of herself and her beliefs despite constantly being pulled in two different directions. Her parents wanted her to be someone she wasn’t and the Pogues loved the person that she was. While she struggled to find her place in the world, at least she knew where she stood.
Now she has no idea. She’s basically homeless, estranged from her parents, unmoored in the tumultuous storm of her life. Everything has changed.
She still looks the same, she thinks as she studies herself in the mirror. Same warm brown eyes staring back at her, brows settled over them in a small frown. The tiny silver scar on her forehead from a run in with a swing when she was a kid. Curls just on the edge of frizzy escaping from a sloppy bun.
But she feels like a different person. Dressed in clothes that aren’t hers, because she can’t bring herself to go home and gather any of her belongings. A knot of fear permanently lodged in her chest. A flicker of uncertainty as she reminds herself that she can do this. She’s ready to grow up and stop being so damn afraid all the time. She’s ready to dig deep and find that brave girl she used to be.
When they first got back to Kildare she’d spent weeks looking over her shoulder, sure that someone was going to leap out of the dark and drag her kicking and screaming back to Kitty Hawk. The school had definitely reported her missing, if the sirens they’d heard during their escape were any indication, and her parents must have known that she’d run away with a blond ‘cousin’.
It wasn’t hard to put two and two together just who’d come to her rescue. With the bad blood between JJ and her dad, she’s certain that her parents were instantly on the warpath to find them, determined to haul her away from what they’d decided was the reason she was ‘acting out’.
But she and JJ had immediately hopped on a plane to South America, crawling into the back of Barracuda Mike’s cargo hold, and in that moment she’d never felt safer than in that rickety plane, travelling thousands of miles from her parents’ reach. JJ’s hand tight around her own, both of them laughing at the insanity of what just happened, tears burning in her eyes as the adrenaline faded and the gravity settled in.
Word of their return to OBX had somehow gotten out though, and her parents had shown up to the airstrip looking heartbroken, like she was the one who’d betrayed them. She’d truly believed that their relationship was getting better and then they’d turned around and thrown that naive belief in her face by sending her away. There’s so much anger and disappointment and hurt all mixed up inside her, along with a muddled sense of loss that she hasn’t quite brought herself to examine, and yet they had the nerve to stand there and stare at her, as though she ought to be running gratefully into their arms.
Before, she knew that they’d seen that she was trying, that she was making an effort to be who they wanted her to be. Turning Sarah away, staying away from JJ, being honest about everything that had happened to her in the last few months. She’d done everything they asked even though her body screamed that it was wrong wrong wrong, because she was desperate to make her parents happy.
And look where that got her.
It’s been more than a month since they’ve been back, and gradually things have gotten easier. She’s still on edge, but it’s faded into the background, rearing its head less and less frequently. The fear is manageable, and she just makes sure to stay away from the places she knows her parents frequent. It may be a small town, but so far it’s been smooth sailing.
Plus it helps when JJ’s at her side, distracting her with long winded stories that are half true at best. His fingers laced through hers, lips brushing her forehead, his comforting presence allowing her to at least pretend that she’s a normal person.
But today she’s decided that she’s going to head out by herself. She’s ready. She can’t keep relying on JJ or any of the Pogues. She needs to prove that she can do it on her own. With a determined nod at her reflection, she finally leaves the bathroom, padding into the bedroom where JJ’s still asleep, his face buried in a pillow, the blankets twisted around his hips. There’s miles of smooth golden skin on display, and the soft sound of snoring makes her smile wistfully as she leans a shoulder against the doorway.
She didn’t really want to crawl out of bed so early – it was some kind of torture to drag herself out of JJ’s warm embrace. Waking up beside him every day has quickly become one of her favourite things. The quiet moment where it’s just them, his fingers drawing lines up and down the knobs of her spine, her knee sliding between his legs as she rests her head against his heart – it’s when she feels the calmest, like everything really is going to be okay if she just has him by her side.
But she knows that he’ll be there tomorrow and the next day and the next – as many mornings as he’ll have her, she hopes. So slipping out of bed today was a little easier with that in mind.
“Hey,” she whispers to him, leaning over and pressing her lips to his shoulder blade. “I’m gonna run out to the market. I’ll be back soon.”
He mumbles something incoherent into the pillow before groaning and turning to blearily blink up at her. “Want me to come?” he asks, his voice rough with sleep.
She purses her lips, smiling fondly at him. Her heart swells as she takes in the pillow creases on his cheek and his hair all smushed up to one side. Early morning JJ might be one of her favourites.
“No, you sleep in,” she says softly, and his eyes clear a bit, but she just leans in and presses a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
She hums, nodding. “Yeah. Be back soon.”
He makes grabby hands towards her, and as she leans closer he grabs her in a bear hug, pulling her back onto the bed beside him and enveloping her in his warmth.
“You got this,” he murmurs close to her ear before pressing his lips to her temple. She can’t fight off the grin stretching across her face. She loves him so damn much.
“I love you,” she says, wiggling back to meet his eyes. “And you’re gonna love the dinner that I’m gonna make tonight. Chock full of greens.”
He rolls his eyes and makes a face, but she knows that he’ll eat it because he eats everything she makes for him, no matter how much he might love to complain.
And as much as she’d love to lie here with him all day, she eventually drags herself from the bed and out of the apartment, choosing to walk to the market because it’s such a nice morning. The warmth of the sun and the memory of JJ’s lips against hers, his crooked smile above her, carry her through town, keeping her mind busy.
Despite her good mood though, she can’t help keeping her eyes peeled, lingering worry that she’s not sure will ever go away. Her ears perk up at the sound of an engine, and she shoots a sharp look over her shoulder when footsteps sound behind her. But she makes it to the market without incident, and once she’s there she breathes a little easier, grabbing a basket and starting down an aisle as she mentally reviews her shopping list.
She’s so lost in thought, inspecting various local produce and imagining the boys’ praise when she proves that vegetables actually can taste good, a battle she’s been waging for years, that she almost runs directly into the back of him.
Her father.
She freezes, the sounds of the market fading away, immediately transported back to that moment. Being dragged across the driveway, fingernails clawing at the fence as she desperately tried to cling to her past. To what was familiar. Screaming for her parents, for anyone, to stop what was happening.
And they’d done nothing. They’d cried, they’d looked sad, but they were the ones who’d arranged for it all. Who’d given up on her, given her away to that fucked up place where she’d been diagnosed and threatened with medication, like she was a problem they didn’t want to deal with anymore. Out of sight out of mind.
Her heart picks up speed, frantically beating in her chest as her palms grow sweaty, and she loses her grip on her basket. It goes clattering to the ground, her produce spilling onto the floor, and she curses when he spins around at the commotion. His expression goes from confused to shocked, the blood draining out of his face as the moment stretches on between them.
She’s stuck in place, her limbs numb, pulse racing, staring at her dad’s familiar face. At the lines etched there, the hollow of his shoulder where she loved to rest her head when she was younger, snuggled into him each night before bed. It was her safe place, cuddled up like that. With his big arms around her nothing bad could ever happen.
His lips part, his eyes widening in surprise, and no no no she can’t do this. She can’t be here, can’t listen to him tell her that he’s sending her back. That it’s for her own good, it’s going to help her fix whatever fucked up things they think are wrong with her. What they think her friends ruined or whatever bullshit they’ve convinced themselves of when they just don’t like the person that she is or the way she lives her life.
Leaving her groceries on the ground, she turns and books it out of the market, not sparing a glance over her shoulder. She doesn’t want to see him any moment longer than she needs to. Her pulse hammers in her ears as her feet pound across the parking lot, a cacophony of white noise blurring everything else around her.
There’s phantom hands on her arms, a tight grip that left marks for days. A reminder of everything that happened that couldn’t be scrubbed away, even when she spent way too long in the shower their first night back, trying to erase the memories as much as the bruises on her skin.
JJ had noticed them eventually, his jaw ticking as he stared, his index finger tracing the edge of one before backing off, his muscles taut with frustration and disgust.
“Kiara!”
Her dad’s voice is close, just behind her, and while she wants to run and escape back to her safe haven, deep down she knows that she should face this. She hasn’t seen either of her parents since the moment she stepped off the plane, tightly clutching JJ’s hand, her lifeline keeping her steady.
She stops on the sidewalk, nails biting into her palms. The last time she spoke to her father she’d been dragged away from everything familiar, and some part of her is anxiously waiting for it to happen again. Has been waiting this entire time for everything to be ripped away from her.
No, she reminds herself. They can’t take her away again. She won’t let them.
“Kiara,” her dad says again, his voice pleading, and she turns in place to find him standing a little ways away, a heartbroken look on his face. “Hi.”
Her chest partially cracks open at the evident pain on his face. The part that looked up to him, that wanted to be just like him when she grew up. The part that thought he understood her, that they were more similar than they were different. That part of her wants to run to him, to throw herself in his arms and let him chase away her fear and worry. She misses him. Misses both her parents more than she’s willing to admit, even to herself.
But he’s the reason she feels like this. The reason that she’s constantly on edge and jumps at sudden noises. Why she can’t sleep by herself anymore. The reason that she hit Pope in the face the other day, sure she would turn and find a burly man in a Kitty Hawk polo ready to haul her away, when he’d simply put his hand on her shoulder to get her attention.
To his credit, Pope hadn’t been mad, but Kiara felt awful. Why couldn’t she move past it? It was so frustrating to feel like this all the time, exhausting to never stop looking over her shoulder.
Only JJ knows the true extent of what she’s been going through. She’s put on a brave face because everyone else has been struggling with their homecoming in their own ways. Going back to school, figuring out how to actually get their share of the gold, adapting to no longer having parents around. They’ve all been going through so much and she’s not about to add more to their load.
But JJ. JJ sees right through the confident facade, sees what she keeps hidden from everyone else. It reminds her of the connection they’ve always had. They’ve been drawn together one way or another over the years, and since they’ve been home he’s been there for her so surely, so completely, that she knows for certain she wouldn’t have made it this far without him.
When it becomes clear that she’s not going to say anything, Mike lets out a deep sigh. “You look good.”
“Better than when I was screaming for help, begging you not to send me away?” The comment slips out of her, full of snark and spite, and she sees it land on his face, his mouth falling open.
“Kiara, that’s not–”
“That’s not what happened?” she argues back, a fire lighting inside of her, the delicate tendrils of fear and worry set ablaze. “I was there, I’m pretty sure it was.”
“We were just doing what we thought was best,” he responds, and god, she can’t believe they're still sticking with that line. She sighs angrily, shaking her head. “You were lying and sneaking around on this treasure hunt–”
“I told you what I was doing, I explained it all! I was trying,” she cries, her voice cracking with emotion, and she pauses, taking a great shaking breath before continuing. “I was trying so hard to be the daughter you wanted. I stopped talking to my friends and I went to your lunches at the club and it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.”
Mike’s shoulders tense as she breathes heavily. The distance between them feels enormous, insurmountable. She doesn’t know how to move past it. How to find forgiveness for the father she thought she idolized.
He steps closer and she can’t help the way she stiffens, a fine thread of panic racing through her body. He notices her reaction and stops, leaving a large enough space between them as his face falls.
She waits, though she isn’t sure what she’s waiting for. An apology? For him to admit that they were wrong?
“How are you?” he asks, changing the topic completely, like he’s searching for some middle ground, some calmer seas. It feels like an olive branch, but she doesn't know if she’s ready for that yet. If she’ll ever be ready. Once that idea takes hold in her mind, a blanket of loneliness settles over her.
She considers his questions. Thinks of the panic attacks, the sleepless nights. Wonders if he wants the truth or some sugar coated story.
She finds she doesn’t have the energy for either. “Fine.”
She’s alone. Barely an adult. She doesn’t even have any of her belongings, besides what her parents packed into the duffle bag shipped off with her to Kitty Hawk. Maybe someday she’ll be able to move past everything that happened, the hurt and the betrayal and the anger. The yawning feeling of loss that she keeps shoving to the back of her mind.
But right now, she just wants to go home. Home to her true family, waiting for her to come back to the condo with vegetables that he’ll definitely complain about but begrudgingly eat.
Her family has been at her side this entire time, never asking her for more than she can give, a steady pillar of support, a calm hand and an encouraging smile. Always there whether she’s breathlessly waking up in a cold sweat or stress cleaning the apartment because the wind rattling the door sent her into a flurry of panic. It’s a warm arm around her shoulder, a joint waiting for her when he knows she needs it. A wild adventure to distract her from her thoughts or a quiet moment, his lips against hers, his hands steady and sure.
JJ has always loved her just as she is. He respects her, lets her make her own choices and has her back no matter what. And standing here on the sidewalk, the weight of everything that lies between her and her father pressing down on her, she wants nothing more than to be with JJ, his warmth chasing away the chill that surrounds her.
Her dad breaks the uneasy silence, his tone carefully casual. “Where are you staying these days?”
Her stomach flips at his question because there’s a reason no one knows about Sarah’s apartment. A reason why she feels safer there than anywhere else right now.
“Are you safe?” he adds, and there’s something earnest about his question, but she’s doubtful all the same.
“Yeah. I’m safe,” she says. “Safer than I was in my own home,” she can’t help adding.
He takes that hit and doesn’t try to defend himself, just nods and looks down at the ground. “Is JJ staying with you?”
“Why is it always about JJ?”
“It’s not,” he protests. “I just–”
“You just what?” She finds herself moving forwards, ready to defend JJ, who has been there for her nonstop through everything. Who risked it all to break her out. “You’ve always had it out for him. Even when he was just a kid, you couldn’t see past where he was from.”
“His dad–”
“He’s not his dad,” she says firmly, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “He’s the best person I know.”
Mike sighs, but he doesn’t try to argue with her any further. “As long as you’re safe, that’s what matters. Your mother and I were worried sick when we got the call from Kitty Hawk that you’d run away.”
The words Kitty Hawk sands a shiver racing down her back.
“They said you were gone and we had no idea where you were, and we just… We really do want what’s best for you. We love you.”
Her breath escapes in a shaky sigh, because he still just doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get to decide what’s best for her anymore. He can’t change who she is, who she loves, just because he doesn’t like it. Sure, she messed up, but to send her to that place? After everything she went through?
“I get it. I know I screwed up. I lied to you, I snuck out. But I just… the thing I can’t get past is that you knew.” Her voice cracks again, tears building in her throat as she meets her dad’s eyes, searching for any kind of understanding. “You knew what I had just gone through. What I was trying to work through. And you just… you couldn’t give me the space and time to figure out a way past that? Because I was trying. I was trying so hard. I wanted to fix things.”
There’s a wet sheen in her dad’s eyes as she keeps talking, his shoulders curving inwards as he stares at her.
“I thought I was fixing things,” she chokes out, words coming faster and faster, like now that she’s started she can’t stop. It’s everything she’s been holding inside as she tried to come to terms with what happened. ”I thought things were getting better, but all along you were planning to send me to that place and I still don’t understand how you could just get rid of me. Like I was too much work. Too much trouble.”
“Kiara…”
“I need to go,” she chokes out, hastily wiping at her wet face. “I–yeah. I can’t do this right now.”
She turns to flee, hurrying down the sidewalk and leaving her dad behind. Her feet carry her home to the only person she wants to see right now.
***
Her face is still wet with tears when she gets back to the apartment. Her eyes feel gritty and raw, her chest heavy as she unlocks the front door. She wants nothing more than to walk into JJ’s arms and feel the security of them around her. Wants to breathe him in, his chest rising and falling against hers.
As much as she doesn’t want to, she misses them. Her parents. Misses the way things were when she was little, before she knew anything about the way things were, when they were her entire world. When she trusted them to be there when she fell, to support her, to believe in her.
But now she has someone else to be that for her. Someone who’s been there the whole time, steadfast and sure behind the jokes and the easy grins. Someone who loves her no matter what.
Thinking of JJ and the way she left him this morning, sprawled across the bed, all messy haired and rosy cheeked, makes her heart warm, chasing away some of the lingering darkness of her thoughts.
JJ turns around when he hears her come into the kitchen, the proud smile on his face fading the moment he catches sight of her.
“Kie? What’s wrong? What happened?”
He drops the spatula in his hand and rushes over, his hands framing her face, his thumbs swiping at the tears still lingering there. The feeling of his skin against hers soothes some of the rough edges, the raw open wounds on her soul. There’s a furrow in his brow as he studies her carefully, one of his hands moving to cup her shoulder. She lets the weight of her head rest solidly in his other hand, a sudden exhaustion coming over her.
She opens her mouth to say something, anything, but no words come out, and JJ’s eyes flick between hers, trying to figure out why she’s acting so strangely.
“All right, Kie. You’re kinda freaking me out here,” he says uneasily, his voice soft. “Are you okay?” He pulls back slightly and scans her over for any signs of physical trauma, and when he’s satisfied, he lets his hand trail down to tangle with hers, squeezing gently. “What the hell is going on?”
She can see the worry, the fear clearly on his face, the furrow between his brows growing deeper, his lips pressed into a firm line. But as she tries to search for the words to explain what happened, it feels like her throat is suddenly closing up, clogged with emotions she can’t even begin to untangle.
She needs to try though, because she can feel the panic starting to build in JJ’s body, the way his fingers tighten around hers and how he shifts his weight back and forth like he’s preparing for a fight, his eyes in constant motion. She can talk to JJ about anything. He’s seen her at her worst and loves her anyways. He’ll listen, he’ll try to understand. She just needs to find the words
“I–”
She’s interrupted by the ear splitting shriek of the smoke detector going off, and belatedly realizes that there’s something smoking over JJ’s shoulder.
“Fuck!”
He leaps into action, bounding towards the stove and yanking a frying pan off the element with a yelp. Smoke billows out of whatever is in the pan as he dumps it into the sink and turns on the faucet.
Kie grabs a dish towel and waves it below the smoke detector as JJ cranks open the window over the sink to let in some air. After a moment, the alarm quiets and they’re left in silence once again.
“Shit,” JJ says, peering into the sink. “There goes our breakfast.” He turns back to her, frowning.
She knows that she needs to explain what’s going on with her and why she’s acting so strange, but her brain gets stuck on the way he seems genuinely upset about his breakfast going wrong.
“You were cooking?” She can’t help the tone of surprise in her voice as he shuts off the tap and turns to face her.
He shrugs. “Just pancakes. Figured I’d keep it simple.” He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Shoulda known it wouldn’t turn out right.”
The sight of JJ in the kitchen isn’t unusual. He likes to hang out while she’s cooking and help stir or chop things or taste test, offering stupid jokes or the passing brush of his fingers on her back, but he never takes the initiative to actually cook meals on his own. She’s found him staring blankly into the fridge a few times since they’ve been back, like he’s not quite sure what to do with the abundance of food inside. The idea that a well stocked fridge is so unusual to him makes her heart hurt.
“You just got distracted,” she says gently, because she doesn’t want to discourage his efforts. The look of pride on his face when he first saw her is etched into her brain. “It’s my fault.”
Because now that quiet surrounds them, she chews at her bottom lip, her fingers rubbing together as she remembers why it smells like burned pancakes. Her eyes sting thinking of the harsh words she hurled at her dad, the bubble of fear in her chest, and JJ’s gaze narrows in on her, sensing her abrupt change in emotions.
“Hey,” he says, coming closer until she can feel the heat of his chest against hers. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just pancakes.” His thumb lands at the corner of her mouth, tugging her lip from her teeth and smoothing across it. She swallows thickly at the care in his touch, the way he looks down at her in a way only she gets to see.
“I know,” she whispers, snaking her arms around his waist and burrowing her face against the soft fabric of his shirt. He’s warm, his heart thumping steadily under her ear. His arms wrap around her, his chin resting against the top of her head as he holds her firmly.
This is where she belongs, and her eyes burn with the threat of tears again. JJ, who’s never asked her for more than she can give, who’s always seen her for who she is. Who loves that person, no matter the imperfections or mistakes or stupid choices.
Tightening her arms, she breathes him in, the familiar scent overwhelming her senses and taking her back through all the moments he’s been there for her, no questions asked. Ready to have her back, her biggest support, her anchor in the storm.
His lips press firmly against her hair and she squeezes her eyes shut, trying to hold on to this moment. In this patch of sunlight she can almost pretend that what happened earlier was just some kind of dream, a nightmare.
He loosens his arms to pull back and look at her, but she holds on to him tighter for a moment before reluctantly letting go.
“You wanna head outside?” he asks after a moment, studying her carefully, concern still evident on his face. “It smells fuckin’ awful in here.”
It’s true, but she also knows him, and he knows that the balcony is her favourite place in the apartment. JJ links his fingers with hers and leads them through the living room to the porch.
She lets her arms rest on the railing, looking out over the water and breathing in the salty ocean air. He mirrors her, and she finds her eyes drawn to the corded muscles in his forearms as his shoulder bumps gently against hers.
“I ran into my dad at the market,” she says quietly, breaking the silence between them. “Just out of the blue, all of a sudden he was there at the end of the aisle.”
“Oh shit,” JJ says. “Kie that’s… huge.”
“I know.” She sighs, lacing her fingers tightly together and glancing over at him.
“Did you talk to him?”
She shrugs. “Kinda?” She presses her lips together and shakes her head. She watches the waves out on the horizon, listens to the rhythmic clinking of the boats docked nearby. Lets the familiarity of the sounds sink over her as her mind thinks back on what happened. “It’s kind of a blur. It all happened so fast. Like I knew it was bound to happen eventually but–I don’t know. I just ran out, and he chased after me. He tried to apologize and explain, and I just… I snapped.”
She thinks of the way she yelled at him, the awful things she said. Part of her can’t help but think he deserved it, but the other part of her feels terrible.
JJ moves closer so that his arm presses against hers. “That’s understandable, Kie.”
“Is it?”
“Of course,” JJ says. “What they did was fucking awful.”
“Yeah. I just…”
“Just what?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m feeling. I thought I was moving past all of this. It’s been months and yet one run in with my dad has sent all that fucking progress down the drain. I feel like I did when we first got back, terrified of my own shadow, all messed up in the head.”
“You’re not messed up,” JJ protests, but she just shakes him off.
“I am. And it’s their fault. Do you know that he tried to ask if I was okay? If I was safe?” A laugh of disbelief erupts out of her, everything finally sinking in. “I’m not fucking okay.” Pushing off the railing, she shoves her hands through her hair, nails scraping at her scalp as she tugs lightly on the strands. “I think I’m losing it.”
“Hey, stop.” His fingers gently encircle her wrists, tugging her arms down and pulling her closer. “You’re not messed up, Kie.” He says it so sincerely that she nearly bursts into tears.
“JJ, what do you think this is? Normal behaviour?” Her voice cracks and her breath leaves her in a whoosh. “Newsflash! This is not normal.”
“None of this is normal,” he interrupts, his voice firm. “What happened to you wasn’t normal. It was traumatic, Kie, and you’re allowed to feel however you feel about it. There’s no right or wrong way to deal with grief.”
She blinks up at him, startled out of her head by his calm and knowledgeable words. “Where did that come from?” she asks. “That sounded suspiciously like you’ve been doing research.”
“Uh, I may have looked up some stuff about dealing with trauma and loss,” he says with a little shrug, not quite meeting her eyes. “Just to, y’know, help if I could. Try to understand. To support you.”
Her heart feels like it might burst open at the thought of JJ taking the time to try and learn about what she might be going through and ways he could help her.
“JJ…”
“I know I’m pretty shit at emotional stuff, but I see how much you’ve been hurting since we got back. You try to hide it, but I know you, Kie,” he says, his eyes fixed on hers as his hands tighten. “I can see the struggle between being furious at them and missing them.”
She presses her trembling lips together, a little bit in awe of his ability to see her. But JJ knows her better than anyone, and she thinks, deep down, that he’s probably right. She does miss them, and she hates that she misses them, but she does. She’s also been definite in her insistence that she isn’t ready to see them, that she can’t ever forgive them for what they did. That conflict inside her heart hasn’t eased during the time they’ve been back.
It’s no easier to think about it now either, to remember the way she felt seeing her dad earlier. The panic and fear overlaid with the way she wanted to throw herself into his arms like she did when she was little and let him protect her from the bad things.
“And you’ve been dealing with this alone,” he continues, “and I just… I want you to know you’re not alone.” He scratches at the back of his head, shoulders lifting in a little shrug.
She throws her arms around him, needing to be closer to him, needing to feel him against her. His heart pounds under her ear, his arms wrapping tightly around her.
“I love you,” she whispers into his chest. He holds her tighter, and everything feels just a little easier with JJ’s arms around her.
***
Later, they’re curled up on the couch together, a movie playing quietly on the TV. John B and Sarah are out on their weekly date night, which Sarah claims has helped them stay connected as a couple or something, even though they live together and spend basically all of their time together anyways.
She’s not complaining about the alone time though, because it’s been kind of hard to come by with all four of them still living in the condo together. JJ seems quieter than usual as his fingers draw random patterns on her legs where she’d kicked them across his lap.
When the credits roll, she stretches and yawns, feeling her back crack as she reaches her arms above her head. Her eyes are heavy, and although JJ’s done his best to distract her all day, she’s been thinking and thinking about what happened earlier.
As though he’s reading her mind, JJ’s hand squeezes her ankle lightly to get her attention.
“Ready for part two?” he asks teasingly, like he knows she’s gonna say no.
“Are you kidding? You’re lucky I let you watch the first one.”
JJ rolls his eyes and smirks at her. “You love CHUD, Kie, don’t even lie. I know you love it.”
She scoffs. “I do not love it. It’s a cringey movie with terrible effects.”
She doesn’t add, ‘but you love it and so I will watch it with you’ but from the way JJ grins at her, she thinks he knows.
“Great, so Bud the CHUD then?” he asks, grabbing the laptop.
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t stop him. She manages to sit through half the movie before she pauses it, giving voice to the idea that won’t let her go.
“I think I want to go to my parents’ house.”
JJ stiffens before carefully relaxing, glancing over at her. “You do?”
“Not to like, visit or anything,” she quickly assures him, reading the barely hidden worry on his face.
“Right,” JJ says slowly. “So you want to…”
“I want to get my stuff,” she tells him, and although she’s nervous about it, it feels right in her bones. Like she’s ready to move on and take another step towards healing. “I mean, it’s all just sitting there, unless they tossed it, and I want to have it. My clothes, my books, my pictures… ”
“Well, shit,” he says. “Let’s do it then.”
“Not right now.” She laughs. “It’s almost midnight.”
“Thought we were gonna do a little late night espionage,” he jokes, waggling his eyebrows. “Y’know, like Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”
“They were enemies.”
“Thought they were married,” he shoots back and she rolls her eyes.
“We’re not going tonight,” she says firmly. “But maybe tomorrow?”
He nods, opening his arms so she can curl against his side. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be there.”
***
When they pull up in front of the house the next day, Kiara thinks she might throw up.
“We can come back,” JJ says, glaring at the white siding with a passion. “Doesn’t have to be today.”
“No,” she says, ignoring that the pancakes they had for breakfast are threatening to make a reappearance. “I can do this.” She slides open the Twinkie’s rusty side door and climbs out.
JJ doesn’t move right away, looking at her nervously.
“What?” she asks, chewing on her bottom lip.
He blows out a breath before clambering out and taking her arm, pulling her a little ways away from the rest of the Pogues.
“Ah, I should maybe mention that your dad made it pretty clear that I wasn’t welcome ‘round here again,” he explains, his hands moving restlessly. “Just so you know, he might be pretty pissed if I show up on his porch.” JJ pauses before continuing. “Not to mention the whole ‘kidnapping his daughter’ thing.” He shakes his head, adding, “Might make things worse if I go up there with you.”
“I don’t care,” she says, lacing her fingers with his, stilling the anxious motions. “It doesn’t matter what they think. I want you to come. As long as you want to.”
He grins crookedly at her. “I’ve got your back, Kie. I always want to be where you are.” His eyes flick over her shoulder to the house looming in the background and then back to her as the rest of the crew piles out of the van to join them.
“I’m going with you,” he adds firmly, squeezing her hand.
John B slings his arm around JJ’s shoulders, butting into their moment. “All right, team. We ready to do this?” he asks brightly, and Sarah slaps him in the chest as Cleo rolls her eyes.
“You’re staying here,” Sarah says. “Just me and JJ are going, remember? We don’t need everyone crowding into the house.”
Kiara looks around at the group assembled, her chest warming as they send her encouraging smiles. They’ve all shown up for her today because they know what a big deal this is to her and that she’s going to need their support, even if half of them are gonna have to wait in the Twinkie. She can’t help but think how lucky she is to have them.
“Thanks for coming, guys,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without y’all.”
“We love you Kiara,” Pope says.
“Yeah, you got this girl,” Cleo adds as John B smiles encouragingly at her.
“We’ll keep the engine running in the getaway car,” he tells her, slapping a hand against the Twinkie’s rusted side. “Just in case we gotta make a run for it.”
“An idling engine is terrible for the environment, John B. Please don’t do that,” Kiara replies, shaking her head as she smiles fondly at him. “But thanks for the sentiment.”
She, JJ, and Sarah make their way up the driveway. Kiara studiously avoids looking at the fencepost she’d clung to the last time she was here, phantom slivers stinging her palms. As though they can read her mind, JJ and Sarah come to either side of her, JJ sliding his hand into hers, Sarah bumping her shoulder with Kiara’s. A reminder that she’s not going into this alone.
Too soon they’re at the front door and she shifts back and forth uncertainly. Does she knock? Does she use her key? It feels strange to knock on the door of the place she called home for so many years, but she also can’t imagine just walking in unannounced.
JJ glances over at her before reaching out and rapping his fist on the door. She smiles at him gratefully as they wait, her heart pounding nervously. She’s sure her hand is sweaty but JJ doesn’t complain.
When the door swings open to reveal her mother, Kiara forces herself to hold her ground.
“Kiara!” Anna exclaims, her eyes wide and surprised. “Oh my god.”
Kiara’s instantly reminded of the day she returned home from Poguelandia, when she’d knocked on the door just like this, but her mom had swept her into her arms, her shoulders heaving with relieved sobs. Her hands framing Kiara’s face as she gratefully wept, calling for her dad. The relief Kiara had felt collapsing into her parents’ arms, finally home, finally safe after everything that had happened.
This moment isn’t anything like that. Anna doesn’t reach out to her and Kiara doesn’t move, an enormous silence stretching between them. Her mom stares at her like she’s trying to memorize everything about her, everything that’s changed since they last saw each other. Her eyes hesitate on her hand wrapped in JJ’s, but she doesn’t say anything.
“I’m here to get some of my stuff,” Kiara eventually says. Her heart gallops in her chest, and for a wild moment she thinks her mom is going to refuse, but she steps aside, her shoulders slumping.
“Of course, honey,” she replies quietly.
Chewing on her lip, Kiara steps through the doorway, Sarah and JJ behind her. Everything looks the same as it always has, and it feels a little like she’s stepped into a time capsule, transported back to a time she felt like this was her home.
“Your father’s at The Wreck,” her mom volunteers when Kiara hesitates.
“Oh. Um, okay,” she replies, but relief settles over her all the same. Glancing over at her friends, she nods to the staircase. “We’ll be right back,” she tells her mom.
Anna wrings her hands, distress clear on her face. “Take your time. It’s so good to see you.”
Kiara swallows thickly at the genuine emotion in her voice, remembering the way she’d chased after her, pressing money and a phone into her hand. She’d desperately begged Kiara to call if she needed anything, and Kiara had thought that maybe her mom finally understood what she’d been saying all this time. That, surprisingly, her mom was the one who made the effort to meet her halfway, showing some understanding and compassion as Kiara did everything she could to help her friends.
But she’d also stood there, her face wet with tears as Kiara was dragged away, calling out that they were just trying to help her, as their only daughter screamed and pleaded that she didn’t want to go.
“Yeah,” she chokes out. The two memories collide with each other and leave her uncertain about exactly how she feels, so she turns and leaves, jogging the familiar path up the stairs to her bedroom, Sarah and JJ trailing behind her.
She lets out a sigh when she swings the door open and everything is exactly how she left it. Part of her had secretly worried that they’d toss all her stuff or search through it trying to figure out where she’d gone, but it's all still here, waiting for her. Like they thought she would eventually come back home.
“I’m gonna grab another bag from the van,” JJ says from behind her, taking in her room. “Just in case.”
“Okay,” she replies, glancing over her shoulder at him. “I’ve got a suitcase and maybe a duffle bag somewhere in here.”
He nods before retreating back down the hallway, his footsteps fading away as she turns back to her room.
Her bed stands one corner, the comforter haphazardly pulled up, a pile of clothes at the end. There’s a messy stack of books on the nightstand, her raggedy teddy bear resting upside down where she’d last tossed him. A big map of the world is pinned on the wall, with little marks drawn in with pen of the places she dreamed of travelling to one day. Her desk is empty save for a pile of threads and her container of beads – she’d been planning on making them all new bracelets, but with everything that went down, she had never found the time.
Stepping further into the room, she drifts over to the photos tucked around the frame of her mirror. They’re mostly older prints – one of her and Sarah both wearing sunglasses and making stupid faces, JJ perched in a tree like it’s his natural habitat, the four original Pogues crammed together in a selfie, all of them cracking up over a joke she can’t remember anymore.
She reaches out a hand, her finger trailing along an especially old one, its edges curling from age. She’s maybe five or six, with wild hair bigger than her body, perched on her dad’s shoulders, a gap toothed grin on her face. They’re standing on the beach, both of them beaming, a surfboard lying just out of frame.
She remembers that day vividly – her dad had attempted to teach her to surf over and over, but that day she had finally got it, riding a wave on her own for the first time until he’d swung her up onto his shoulders, whooping with pride, and her mom snapped this photo. They’d gone out for celebratory ice cream after and she’d gone to sleep that night knowing that she’d made her parents proud.
And look at things now.
“Kie?” Sarah’s soft voice comes from the doorway and she glances up to find her friend standing there, a concerned look on her face. “You okay?”
Kiara looks back at the photo, regret and loss churning inside her. She doesn’t know if she’s ever going to feel like that again. But maybe that’s all right.
“Yeah,” she says, reaching out to pluck it from the mirror, along with all the others tucked around. “I’m going to be.”
Sarah shoots her a comforting smile, and Kiara thinks, not for the first time, how grateful she is that Sarah came back into her life. Despite their ups and downs, she’s always there for her and she truly values their friendship.
“Where’s JJ?” she asks. “He hasn’t come back yet?”
“I can hear voices downstairs,” Sarah says uncertainly, glancing into the hallway. “I think he might be talking to your mom.”
Kiara feels a flutter of worry. “About what?”
Sarah shrugs. “I don’t know. But I’m sure they’ll be fine for a few more minutes, right? We should get packing.”
“Yeah,” Kiara agrees, although she’s not quite sure Sarah’s completely right. But the faster they get her stuff collected, the quicker they can leave and put an end to whatever conversation is happening downstairs.
There’s not the same kind of animosity that there is between JJ and her dad, but her mom and JJ have never really seen eye to eye either. She’s sure that her mom has plenty of things to say to him, all of them certainly not very nice, especially after he broke her out of Kitty Hawk. Any softness that Anna might have once felt towards him has surely been blown to pieces with everything that’s happened since.
Kiara grabs her big suitcase from her closet, tossing the duffle bag to Sarah. They get to work packing up as many things as they can fit. Oversized t-shirts and worn in sneakers and cozy sweaters. Her favourite bathing suits and comfiest shorts. The facewash she’s been longing for since they got back. Her shower comb and her collection of headbands. It all goes in the bag, all these bits and pieces of her life that she’s been living without since they got back. Fragments of her old life that she wants to bring with her into the new one that she’s carving out for herself.
“What about this?” Sarah’s holding up a frayed piece of string and Kiara’s heart clenches, watching it dangle from her fingers.
“Yeah, that comes,” she replies quietly, smiling fondly.
Sarah frowns at the worn thing, confused. “Are you sure?”
It’s certainly nothing special. Black and brown string tied into a messy pattern that had never sat quite right around her wrist. But she’d worn it until it fell off and then she’d kept it on her bedside table because it was the first thing that JJ ever gave her. The first time she felt like she’d been fully accepted as one of the Pogues.
“JJ gave it to you, didn’t he?” Sarah says as she places it into the bag.
“Yeah,” Kiara says, and she’s probably smiling like an idiot, but she can’t seem to help it. “He did.”
Sarah rolls her eyes, but there’s an affectionate smile on her face. Kiara knows she’s happy that she and JJ figured their shit out and got together. She’s been their biggest cheerleader, and Kiara thinks that Sarah might have seen what was happening between them before either of them truly realized, way back on Poguelandia.
“Anything else you want to bring?” Sarah asks as Kiara pauses, surveying the room.
They haven’t taken everything, but there’s enough packed in the two bags. And she knows they’re just things. She could have just waited and got new stuff once the gold money came in. But there’s no way she can replace the memories held in the stack of old photos, in the sweater that still smells like campfire smoke or the scuffs on her favourite pair of sneakers, her trusty companions on adventure after adventure. And maybe it’s a little sad that her entire life fits in two large bags, but she’s never needed much to be happy.
“That’s it,” she says, zipping the suitcase closed.
They haul everything into the hallway and to the top of the stairs, but she pauses when she hears JJ’s voice filtering up from the main floor.
“She’s doing okay,” he’s saying, and she freezes because he’s talking about her. Her fingers tighten around the handle of the suitcase as Sarah shoots her a wide-eyed look that Kiara ignores so she can focus on the conversation happening below them.
“Is she really? She’s so thin,” Anna says. “Is she eating enough?”
“If you want to know more about her, you’re gonna have to ask her yourself,” JJ says, and she can hear the agitation under the fake southern charm he’s always affected around her parents.
Her mom sighs heavily, and she can hear the scraping sound of one of the kitchen stools being pulled out, someone sitting down heavily.
“She won’t talk to me. To us. I’ve called and left messages and nothing.”
JJ doesn’t say anything, and after a long moment of silence, Kiara wonders if the conversation is over. She looks over at Sarah who shrugs, but then her mom’s voice speaks up again.
“Can you say something to her?” her mom asks. “She clearly trusts you if she brought you here with her. Can you just…tell her how sorry we are? How sorry I am?”
JJ blows out an angry breath. “Yeah, no. I won’t be doing that. If she’s not ready to hear it from you yet, then you’re gonna have to wait until she is,” he says firmly, leaving no room for confusion. “Because Kiara might be the strongest person I know, but she’s been through hell and back, thanks to you. And if it’s taking her longer than you want to open back up, well… Maybe you should have thought about that before y’all sent her away to that cuckoo camp.”
He doesn't raise his voice, but Kiara can feel the emotion infused in his words, can picture the passion in his eyes, the look he gets when he’s talking about something he truly believes in.
Her mom doesn’t respond right away, and Kiara figures that’s probably their sign to stop eavesdropping and head back downstairs. When they reenter the kitchen, her mom’s sitting at the counter, her head in her hands while JJ stands beside the fridge, his hands tucked into his pockets. Her mom must have caught him before he even made it outside.
He looks over at her gratefully, clearly uncomfortable. “You ready?”
She can’t help but glance over at her mom, and finds her looking right back at her, her eyes wet. A flash of guilt rises in her stomach, but she reminds herself that she’s not ready for this conversation yet, and that’s okay.
“Ready,” she says softly, and JJ smiles at her, swinging the duffle bag onto his shoulder and dramatically staggering. “What the hell, Kie–what d’you got in here, your rock collection?”
She laughs, shoving at him, and he grabs her suitcase as well, leading the way to the front door.
“Kiara,” her mom calls after them, and something in her voice makes Kiara stop. Sarah and JJ both stop too, but she urges them on.
“I’ll be fine,” Kiara assures them, and they both look unconvinced, but continue out to the van anyways when she insists, smiling and nodding at them. JJ looks over his shoulder as he goes, the frown on his face making it clear that he doesn’t really want to leave her alone in the house.
“Kiara, I just… I know you’re not ready,” her mom says thickly once they’re alone. “And I know that’s our fault. My fault,” she corrects herself. “And I am so sorry for what happened. I truly am, and I hope that someday we can talk about all of this. But for what it’s worth, I’m very glad you have someone who loves you that much.”
She looks beyond Kiara, to where JJ and Sarah are traipsing down the driveway, bantering about something, JJ glancing back at the house every five seconds like he’s making sure she’s still standing in the open doorway. Kiara’s chest tightens watching him, knowing he’d do anything to keep her safe.
“Yeah,” Kiara says. “He’s the best thing to ever happen to me. And I hope one day you’ll get to see that.”
Her mom nods, her trembling lips pressed together in a fine line, and it feels like something has been mended between them. It’s only a stitch or two in the gaping wound, but it’s more than she thought would happen today.
With one last rueful smile, Kiara turns and leaves, the door snicking shut behind her as she makes her way down the driveway. The last time she left this house it was in a different van, the doors locked, unfamiliar men talking brusquely in the front seat as she curled into a tight ball. Her face wet and her throat hoarse, her heart jackhammering in her chest.
This time she walks out to the Twinkie and straight into JJ’s arms, squeezing her tight as he presses his lips to her hair. Sarah’s hand on her shoulder as she smiles at her. John B exclaiming how proud of her he is before turning on the engine, reggae music blaring from the speakers. Pope complains about the permanent damage loud music can have on your ear drums as Cleo asks where the next stop is.
“Home,” Kiara says, looking around at her family one more time.
JJ smiles softly down at her, pressing his lips to hers before calling out, “You heard the lady. Take us home, Jeeves!”
John B tells JJ to shut up and Cleo laughs as Pope messes with the radio. He pulls away, leaving her childhood home behind, and Kiara thinks that her mom was right – but it’s not just JJ. It’s all the Pogues. They’re the best thing to ever happen to her, this family that they’ve fought to keep together, determined to stand by each other no matter what. She doesn’t know what she would do without them.
And as they make their way through Figure Eight, she lets herself relax into JJ’s side, knowing that while things aren’t fixed, and maybe won’t ever be the same again, at least she’ll have her family by her side.