Work Text:
In another life, JJ would have survived the stabbing.
In another life, Groff wouldn’t have betrayed him.
In another life, his dad wouldn’t have abused him.
In another life, he would have gotten to marry Kiara Carrera.
Kiara Carrera. The love of his life. His bestfriend. A Pogue, just like him.
As he died right before her eyes, she wailed as her heart shattered. He was gone.
But, unbeknownst to her or anyone else, a new life was taking shape within her. Her baby. JJ’s baby.
Her friends pitched in when they returned to the Outer Banks. She had her village.
But the center, the very core member of that village, was missing. And she couldn’t get him back.
For three months, she hid her pregnancy from her family. Until her parents found out. They kicked her out.
So she went to live with Sarah and John B, who also were expecting their own little baby. Sarah and Kiara spent their days bonding together and painting the nursery.
The babies would share the same room. Four blue walls accompanied two cribs. A closet held clothing.
Boy clothes for JJ and Kiara’s son, and baby girl clothes for John B and Sarah’s daughter.
Shortly after JJ Routledge was born, Kiara went into labor. It started sometime in the early hours. She was alone, emotionally and physically.
John B and Sarah were at the hospital with their daughter. Pope and Cleo were visiting them.
“Don’t panic, Kiara,” Kie hissed through contractions. A wave of contractions, close together, passed through her.
She cried out, hoping someone would hear her. But no one was coming to her rescue. JJ was dead, and she needed him now more than ever.
“Jay! Oh, Jay!” She screamed. Tears poured down her eyes as she felt the overwhelming pain rip through her. She needed to push, her body screamed at her. But there was so much blood. It was metallic smelling, bright red blood.
“I’m going to die…” she sobbed. She squeezed her eyes shut and when she opened them, she swore she saw JJ standing beside her. She was losing consciousness. Hallucinating.
She gave it everything she had and pushed. The pain let up, but the blood didn’t. “Are you alive?” She whispered through the dark, at the baby she’d carried for the last nine months.
There was no response from the baby boy for a full minute. She couldn’t move. She was in excruciating pain. Her vision was going in and out. Then… nothing short of a miracle, a weak cry filled the room. Her son. JJ’s son. Alive.
“Oh, baby. Oh.” She tried to sit up, to pick him up to keep him warm, but pain shot through her. She cried out in agony.
The baby looked at her from where he was lying on the mattress. JJ’s eyes looked back at her. “Jackson, hi, baby. It’s mommy.”
The baby let out a wail as Kie sniffled. The pain was letting go. She could finally hold her son. “It’s okay, Jack, it’s okay. Mommy’s going to be okay.”
She groaned as she forced her body upright, moving her arms ever so slightly so she could hold the baby to her.
Her hands were slick with blood. His, or hers, she didn’t know. She tried—and failed—to pick him up. “Mommy’s okay, baby. I’m okay.”
She tried again to pick him up. She was losing muscle tone, and she was freezing. “Just hold on. Mommy’s okay.”
She was tired. Her body was bleeding out. She closed her eyes. “Love you, Jack…”
It was only meant to be a short nap. But she didn’t hear it when Jackson wailed at the top of his lungs, hands and legs flailing. She didn’t hear it when Cleo and Pope arrived and Pope asked Cleo to check on Kiara. She didn’t hear Cleo’s blood curling screams. She was dead.
She stood in a field. The sun was beaming down. Wildflowers were all around her. She looked around. “Where am I?”
A tall blonde guy walked towards her, smiling. She recognized those eyes. “JJ?”
He held her to him as she sobbed. “Hey, Kie.”
She held him for what felt like an eternity. “This is a dream.”
“How…. How are you here? With me? Where’s my son?”
JJ’s smile fell. His eyes glossed over as tears fell down his eyes.
“This is Paradise. Uh, you…you died. Jackson—“ he chuckled, “Jackson’s okay. He’s safe. He’s alive.”
Kie stepped back, her face scrunching in confusion. “I’m dead?”
It hit her then. She died in childbirth, and Jackson was alive. Her son—their son—was an orphan.
She never got to hold their son.