Chapter Text
The November breeze was cool and salty as it swept through the yard of the chateau, carrying faint hints of bonfire smoke and fall leaves mixed with the fishy smell of the marsh. JJ leaned back on the porch steps, fiddling with the loose hem of the sweatshirt that wasn’t really his—a hand me down from John B—too big for him still and far too thin for the new onset of cold weather that was plaguing the island.
JJ grimaced as his back hit against the weathered wood. He was used to the ache in his muscles by now, the dull throb in his head whenever he moved too fast. But it didn’t make it any easier.
It had been six months since the fight with Rafe, and three months since he was out of it in the hospital on his thirteenth birthday. And yet, the weight of it all hung around him still, a heaviness he just couldn’t shake.
John B sat nearby, messing with the fishing rods, his quick words filling the quiet as he rambled about their plans to hit up their favorite fishing spot tomorrow. JJ nodded along, letting John B’s voice wash over him, but his mind drifted.
There was a tenseness simmering under his skin, an anger that bubbled constantly, ready to burst at any moment.
He hated feeling like that—like something was coiled inside, waiting to strike. But after everything that had happened—everything he’d been through— it felt like that was all he had left.
JJ had tried so damn hard to get back to normal.
Desperately tried to slip into the same rhythm he’d always known with John B and the others.
He wanted to be the breath of fresh air—the sharp-tongued, quick-witted, carefree spirit they always known.
Fun, rebellious, untouchable…without a care in the world.
The guy who jumped off the HMS with a flip into the water below. The one always sneaking away for a stolen drink or a hit off his cousin Ricki’s blunt. The kid who surfed waves no one else dared to touch, chasing the rush just to prove he could.
But no matter how hard he tried, something was different.
He just couldn’t seem to do it.
JJ was worn down—more than he wanted to admit. Weaker than before, always getting sick, always bone-tired no matter how much he slept. And no matter how hard he tried to hide it, it showed.
He wasn’t growing. While his friends were filling out—shoulders broadening, muscles forming, looking every bit like the teenagers they were becoming—JJ was stuck. Falling behind in every way that counted. He couldn’t bulk up, couldn’t grow taller.
He looked younger than he had at twelve, all lanky limbs and pale skin.
And every time someone pointed it out—half-joking, like it didn’t matter—it hit like another punch to the gut. Like another reminder that something was wrong, and he couldn’t fix it, no matter how hard he tried.
School was impossible these days—he just couldn’t seem to keep up. It wasn’t even about how many sick days he added up this fall so much as he’d stopped caring about the assignments piling up on his desk. He wasn’t even sure why he still went half the time when he felt good enough, knowing he’d just fall behind again when he’d catch the next bug or was knocked down hard by his dad.
The teachers would always just give him that look—sympathy or annoyance—he couldn't always tell.
He wasn’t sure if they thought he was lazy, not worth it or just plain dumb—but every pitying glance just made his blood boil a little hotter.
Then there was home.
JJ clenched his fists just thinking about it. Luke had always been hard on him, but now it was worse. Every mistake, every stumble felt like an excuse for Luke to lash out, and JJ had gotten good at keeping his head down, trying to avoid the blow-ups, bounce-back like it didn’t matter.
But now this anger kept building, pushing against his ribs like he was holding his breath underwater, waiting for the moment he couldn’t hold it anymore.
And the worst part?
No one really seemed to notice. Or maybe they just didn’t know what to do.
JJ didn’t even know what to do.
All he knew was that he was slipping, shrinking, suffocating—and sick of pretending he wasn’t.
“Hey, you listening?” John B nudged him, breaking through his thoughts.
JJ blinked, forcing a grin. “Yeah, man. Sorry. You were talking about…fishing tomorrow, right?”
John B gave him a look, studying him for a second before shrugging. “Yeah, fishing at the pier in Avon. It’ll be empty with the weather. We’ll be the only ones out there. Sound like a good plan?”
“What do you say we hit the waves tomorrow instead?” JJ said, his voice carrying a note of challenge.
John B looked up from his fishing rod, an eyebrow raised. “Surfing? It’ll be freezing, dude. You sure you’ll be good?”
There it was.
That question he couldn’t stand.
The one that made him want to snap or laugh or run all at once.
JJ’s jaw clenched, a flash of frustration breaking through. “Yeah, I’m good, dude. Not like I haven’t done it before.” His voice was sharp, harsher than he’d intended. He could feel John B watching him, and for a second, he felt the urge to take it back, to laugh it off.
But he didn’t.
He hated the way John B looked at him now, like he was a cracked version of himself. Like he might actually break—again. He’d already heard it all—from teachers, from strangers in town, even from the few kids at school who bothered to ask where he’d been. But hearing it from John B, even if it was just concern, even if he knew it was coming from a good place, was somehow harder to swallow.
John B held up his hands in innocence.
“Alright, man. If you’re cool, I’m cool. We’ll go. Just checking.”
JJ forced a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” The words were meant to come off light, but even he could hear the edge in his voice.
They sat in silence for a while then, the unspoken tension thickening between them.
JJ wanted to say something—anything—that would pull them back to the way things used to be. But the weight of everything he was carrying felt like it was pressing down on him, and he just couldn’t stop it.
He was exhausted, worn out from pretending everything was fine.
The thought of the ocean, of the cold shock of the icey saltwater, was the only thing that felt real right now, the only thing that felt right, a challenge he knew he could face without anyone’s pity or concern.
Tomorrow, he’d hit the waves with John B, and maybe—just maybe—he’d forget about the weight pressing down on him. Maybe, just for a second, he could let himself feel like the kid he was before everything started to fall apart.
…
The next morning, the sun was just starting to creep over the horizon when Big John walked into the kitchen, tossing a few last minute essentials into his bag for his big weekend trip. He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the zipper, before pulling it shut with a sharp tug.
It had been six months—exactly six months—since he’d last dared to leave John B alone for this long. The last time he trusted his son to handle a weekend without him, it had ended in disaster of course. What started as harmless fun—John B and JJ sneaking out to a party—quickly spiraled.
JJ had gotten drunk. Stupidly, recklessly drunk.
And, of course, where there was trouble, Rafe Cameron wasn’t far behind. A few taunts had turned into shoves, which escalated into fists flying. The beating bad enough to land JJ in the hospital, setting off the chain of events that left him a shell of the kid he was before.
And now here Big John was, heading out the door again, no one around to keep an eye on John B. He had a lead—one he couldn’t afford to ignore—and no choice but to put his trust in his thirteen year old and his friend to stay out of trouble this time.
The boys sat at the table, hunched over cereal that neither of them was paying much attention to, when Big John glanced at them one last time, pausing by the doorway. “Alright, listen up,” he started, his voice firm. “I need you two to be responsible while I’m gone. JJ, you’re welcome to stay, but you boys need to look out for each other. No funny business, no beer, no fights, no trouble, you hear me?”
JJ leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a smirk. He wasn’t one to flinch under Big John’s scrutiny. “Don’t worry, Mr. Routledge. We’ll be angels,” he said, his voice smooth but carrying a bite. His grin stretched wide, but there was an edge to it, almost like a dare.
Big John gave him a look, not missing the sharpness in JJ’s tone. “That’s all well and good, but you two better listen to me and stay out of trouble. I trust you, but if things get bad, call. That’s not a suggestion. Got it?”
John B nodded, a little too eagerly, and JJ shrugged, glancing away. They both knew what Big John meant, that he’d thrown them a safety net they’d likely ignore.
The memories of the trouble they got into lingered…but for the most part it was in the past. Right?
With one last look, Big John slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out. The door clicked shut, and the house felt instantly lighter, like a weight had left with him. John B exhaled, glancing at JJ.
“So, still on for surfing?” John B asked, his eyes flicking toward the window where the cold gray morning light was starting to stretch across the lawn.
“Absolutely.” JJ’s tone was almost defiant, like he was daring someone to stop him. The ache in his ribs, the stiffness that lingered from everything that had nearly taken him out the past few months—it was all just noise now, something he could ignore—something he wanted to hide. The cold would hurt, and he knew his body would protest every inch of it, but that almost made him want to go more.
So they grabbed their boards and set out, the familiar path down to the beach winding beneath their feet. JJ didn’t talk much, the wind biting at his reddened cheeks as he kept his eyes forward. By the time they reached the shore, the early morning sun was fully up, the waves in and out across the water.
John B shot him a cautious glance as they waded into the shallows. “You sure about this, man? Swells are gonna be big today. Water’s freezing too.”
JJ met his gaze, his eyes hard and unyielding. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he snapped. John B raised an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, JJ took a deep breath and forced a smirk. “What, you scared of a little cold?”
The words came out light, teasing, but his tone couldn’t quite conceal the bitterness he carried. JJ turned away before John B could answer, wading in further until the cold water bit at his skin, a welcome distraction from the heat burning in his chest.
John B rolled his eyes, paddling out ahead, but as the moment settled between them, a reminder of the unspoken weight that JJ was carrying. He knew John B could sense it, that something was different, that the JJ he’d known was cracking down.
But JJ wasn’t about to let anyone see just how much everything was tearing him apart. The world could throw whatever it wanted at him, and he’d throw it right back.
Out here in the water, he could push himself to his limit without anyone asking if he was okay. The salt stung as he paddled into the first wave, his muscles screaming, the cold piercing through him, and for the first time in a long while, he felt alive.
…
As they paddled further out, past the break, the boys laughter echoed over the water, mingling with the crash of waves around them. Playful jabs flew back and forth, the earlier tension between them fading as if it had never been there.
Out here, it was like none of it mattered.
This was their place.
The ocean was in their blood, part of their dna. It always had been.
Even John B quickly lost any bit of his earlier hesitation and couldn’t help but grin as adrenaline pumped through his veins. The cold water, sharp and biting, only added to the thrill, waking them up, making them both feel alive.
The swells were massive, rolling in with the recent storm that had churned in the waters for days now. But the ocean was home. Its danger wasn’t something they were afraid of—it was something they understood.
Something they could handle.
It was reckless, sure, but not too reckless.
At least, that’s what John B told himself as they caught wave after wave. It was the kind of adventure that gave JJ the rush he craved without pushing them over board—or at least that’s how it seemed at first.
But as the swells grew higher and the current began to pull harder, John B felt the faintest bit of unease in his chest.
The kind of warning that came too late.
JJ’s laughter on the other hand rang out without hesitation, bright and unrestrained, even as they drifted further from the shoreline and his shivering became impossible to ignore, his shoulders shaking almost violently and his teeth chattering even as he bit down hard to stop it.
John B glanced over, noticing the way JJ’s hands gripped the edges of his board, knuckles white and trembling against the cold, his lips taking on a purplish tinge. And for a second, John B opened his mouth to say something, but he caught the look on JJ’s face—defiant, daring him to call it out.
So he didn’t.
He just turned back to the horizon and paddled on, pretending he didn’t notice the way JJ’s body was fighting to hold itself together. He knew JJ and knew this was JJ trying to prove something to himself.
“Hey, last one to catch a wave has to do my chores!” John B called out, his tone teasing, a challenge dancing in his eyes.
“Please! Like I’d ever let you win!” JJ shot back, his grin wide and cocky, the sparkle of mischief in his eyes. He paddled harder, a mix of determination and lost confidence fueling him.
He had been the best surfer among the pogues since he was eight, his smaller frame working to his advantage as he easily navigated waves that most kids knew better than to ride.
The deeper they went, the more the swells began to rise and fall beneath them. JJ felt the energy of the ocean, the pull of the waves calling to him.
This was where he thrived, where he could show off and take on challenges that even John B couldn’t dream about.
Out here—he was always the bigger man.
“There’s one!” John B shouted, pointing toward a wave rising in the distance. JJ’s eyes lit up as he turned to follow his friend’s gaze. “Let’s go!”
With a burst of energy, they both began paddling toward it, but JJ quickly surged ahead, his strokes quick and powerful. He knew how to work the waves in a way the others didn’t, and as they approached the swell, JJ positioned himself just right.
When the wave lifted him, he stood up with ease, carving through the water with a joy that was so pure and unfiltered. JJ glided down the face of the wave, almost effortlessly.
He felt completely alive, riding high on the thrill.
“Woo! Look at you go, dude!” John B cheered, his voice a mix of awe and encouragement as he was left in the wake.
JJ grinned back, the rush of the wave washing over him. “You’re just jealous you can’t handle this beast!” he called, his voice playful, happy, and filled with adrenaline.
As he navigated the wave, JJ felt a sense of freedom unlike anything else. He carved and turned, laughing as he tumbled into the water after the wave broke. He surfaced, gasping for air, his heart racing with excitement.
“Did you see that? I totally crushed it!” JJ shouted, his eyes wide with child-like exhilaration.
“Yeah! That was sick!” John B replied, shaking his head in disbelief. “I still don’t get how you make it look so easy?”
JJ puffed out his chest, a playful grin on his face. “It’s a talent, my friend. You should just give up now!”
John B rolled his eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah, right! I’m not letting you get away with that!”
JJ smiled brightly, the sun warming his skin as the ocean surged beneath him, its rhythm perfectly in tune with his own. Out here, with the waves crashing around him and his best friend at his side, he felt invincible—wild and untamed, like he belonged to something bigger than himself.
For a single moment, he wasn’t the kid weighed down by expectations, a broken home, or scars that wouldn’t heal.
Out here, he was just JJ—powerful, fearless, free.
The burdens of his life slipped away, swallowed by the mighty ocean. All that was inside him was the thrill coursing through his veins and the endless promise of adventure ahead.
…
JJ’s heart raced even more as he spotted a massive wave building in the distance, towering over the others like a challenge. The thrill coursed through him stronger this time, igniting his confidence and that familiar spark of defiance that always felt like home. “I’m going for it!” he yelled, determination flooding his voice as he paddled harder than ever.
The words carried more than excitement driving him forward—they carried a need, desperate and unrelenting.
This wasn’t just about catching a wave—it was about proving something.
To John B. To everyone. To himself.
The craving for adrenaline burned in his veins like wildfire—too hot, too fast, impossible to contain.
He chased it every chance he got out here on the water, testing limits, taking risks, craving that razor-sharp edge where everything else disappeared.
The rush drowned out the fear, the pain, the weakness—everything he couldn’t control.
Out here the risk was his—he could control it—choose to take it or not.
But sometimes, just sometimes, when the high wore off and the quiet crept in later on, he was afraid. Scared of himself.
His need for danger, the way he sought it out like it was the only thing keeping him alive, made him feel like he was spiraling—reckless in a way he couldn’t escape.
Right now, though, there was no room for fear. No time for hesitation. The wave rose before him, towering and unforgiving, its shadow closing in on him fast. JJ paddled harder than he ever had before, his chest burning at the strain, his arms trembling with the effort. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He threw himself forward with everything he had, chasing the only thing that made him feel alive.
“JJ, wait!” John B’s shout rang out, his voice tight with panic. “That thing is huge! You should—”
But JJ didn’t even glance back. He was too far gone, grinning as he tuned out his best friend’s warnings and focused on the wave building beneath him.
Positioning himself, he felt his heart pounding in his chest, the sound loud in his ears as the world narrowed down to a single moment. The wave roared, crashing down with impossible force, and JJ launched forward, adrenaline surging at an all time high as he stood, teetering on the edge of his board.
And for a brief, unbelievable second, it felt like flying—weightless and completely untouchable. But the wave had other plans, of course. It surged higher, faster, and within a moment, the massive force slammed into him, ripping the board from under his feet.
The ocean swallowed him whole, yanking him beneath the surface, tossing him like a ragdoll beneath the surface. Every direction blurred—no up, no down, only the relentless churn of the current around him. Saltwater burned his nose and throat, his lungs screaming for air as he was dragged deeper and deeper.
And in the midst of it, a part of JJ didn’t hate it.
He didn’t hate the raw power, the wild unpredictability, the way the wave reinforced just how small he really was.
There was something almost freeing about it—surrendering to the disaster, letting the ocean take him wherever it wanted.
His body screamed to fight, to claw toward the surface, but his mind? His mind craved the quiet darkness, the dangerous thrill of being on the edge, of teetering between survival and surrender. The peace it brought.
Even now, with his chest tight and the world spinning around him, a defiant spark flared in his chest. In the cold darkness, in the risk, in the emptiness—JJ felt alive.
But in that same terrifying moment, John B completely lost sight of JJ, panic shooting through him as he scanned the swirling water, his heart hammering against his ribs.
“JJ!” he yelled, his voice cracking with fear. The crashing waves swallowed the sound, but he yelled again, louder this time. “Where are you, man?”
Then, he caught sight of it. Nothing more than a flash of bright green swim trunks disappearing beneath the frothy waves. But it meant JJ.
His stomach clenched as fear gripped onto him and without thinking twice about it, he dove into the churning current, the icy water closing over his head as he fought against the tide.
Panic surged through him, fueling every stroke. The saltwater stung his eyes as he searched, his vision blurry from both the waves and the fear clawing at him.
But finally, his fingers brushed against something—an arm? A leg? JJ.
His grip tightened instantly, his lungs burning as he pulled JJ’s limp body toward him. “I got you, man!” he gasped, hauling them both upward with every ounce of strength he had.
They broke the surface, both of them coughing and sputtering for air, the waves still crashing around them as John B pulled them both back to their boards. JJ was dazed, his eyes barely open, and John B shook him roughly. “Come on, buddy! We gotta get you to the beach!”
The journey back felt endless.
The current fought him every step of the way, dragging at his legs like a cruel hand determined to pull them both under again. His arms and shoulders screamed with the effort, but he refused to let go of JJ.
When they finally hit shallower water, John B half-stumbled, half-dragged JJ through it, collapsing onto the wet sand with a groan.
He pulled JJ beside him, rolling him onto his back. The two of them lay there gasping for breath, saltwater dripping from their hair and streaming down their faces.
John B turned to him, panic giving way to relief as he saw JJ finally coughing and pulling in shaky breaths. “You scared the hell out of me, man,” he choked out, his voice trembling. “You good?”
“I’m fine,” JJ insisted, though he wasn’t getting up, his breath was shallow and shaky. He was coughing and sputtering, clearly struggling to breathe. “Just… wiped out, that’s all. Not a big freaking deal.”
John B’s worry only deepened, as he watched JJ struggle, shaking, clutching his side, his face pale. “Not a big deal? You could have died! You look like you just got hit by a truck…we should call my dad,” he urged, panic creeping into his voice.
“No!” JJ shot back, eyes wide. “Don’t make this a big deal, Bree. If Big John finds out about this, he’ll freak! I’m so sick of people babying me, okay? Just drop it.”
“JJ, this is serious!” John B pressed, studying his friend’s face. JJ was clearly in pain, and it was hard to watch him trying to brush it off.
“I’m telling you, it’s not that bad!” JJ grunted, finally pushing himself up, swaying slightly as he tried to steady himself into a sitting position.
John B hesitated, glancing at the waves crashing around them. They had been through worse together after all.
“Alright,” he said firmly, “but if you start feeling worse, we’re calling someone. No arguments. I’m not doing this with you again.”
“Deal,” JJ replied, forcing a grin despite the pain etched on his features.
With a reluctant nod, John B helped him up, their arms locked together for support as they made their way back towards the path home. Neither of them was in any shape to carry their boards, so they shoved them into the sand dunes, half-hidden beneath a layer of dry grass.
“Leave ’em here. We’ll grab ’em later,” John B muttered, adjusting his grip on JJ as he staggered slightly.
“Fine,” JJ said through gritted teeth, his steps uneven but determined.
They trudged forward, leaning heavily on each other, both knowing they couldn’t afford another run-in like this.
But for now, they just needed to get JJ home.