Archive of Our Own ^beta

"YOU THINK YOU CAN TALK TO ME LIKE THAT AND STILL KEEP THIS ROOF OVER YOUR HEAD?! GET OUT!!"

JJ flinched harshly at the eardrum shattering voice, falling back against the wooden cabinet in the corner of the room. He'd really fucked up this time.

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You see, JJ Maybank is never one to back down from a fight. Even when that fight is against the alcoholic bastard who's abused him all his life... also known as his father. And his father, Luke Maybank, is never one to pull his punches. Even when those punches are aimed at his 16 year old son who did nothing wrong but stand up for himself.

The fight had started as a small argument. It would be nothing to a 'normal' family, JJ had made a comment under his breath about Luke never cleaning the place up, and Luke just happened to hear it.

Now, to a 'normal' family, maybe this would've resulted in a discussion where father and son could've worked something out and cleaned the house together. But JJ's family wasn't 'normal'. Luke wasn't 'normal'. So that one uttered comment had, unfortunately, sentenced JJ to a very painful and slow death that evening.

Or, at least that's how it felt, anyway.

Luke's face twisted with anger as he advanced on JJ, towering over him like a storm cloud ready to burst. JJ knew better than to show fear, even if his heart pounded like a war drum in his chest. He kept his face hard, his jaw set, even as his father's hand gripped his shirt and yanked him to his feet.

"This look like Figure Eight to you, boy?" Luke spat, his words dripping with venom. "So ungrateful. Disrespectful. You think you're better than me? After everything I've done for you?!"

JJ's fists clenched at his sides, his breathing shallow. He wanted to scream, to fight back, but he knew that would only make things worse. So he bit his tongue and took it, letting Luke's words and threats wash over him like the cold rain that had started to fall outside.

Soon enough, Luke became bored of not getting any reaction or retaliation out of his son, so he resulted to physical punishment instead.

Luke's fist collided with JJ's cheek, snapping his head to the side. Pain exploded across his face, and JJ flew to the ground, crashing into the side of the couch. He bit down on his tongue to stop himself from making a sound. He refused to give Luke the satisfaction. His mouth filled with blood instantly and it dribbled down his chin from the corner of his mouth.

Another punch came before JJ was able to come back his senses, then another, then a kick to the ribs, then a pull on the hair, and eventually, every single inch of his body felt like it was shattered.

Finally, when Luke decided he'd had enough, he finished the job with bringing his heavy, industrial work boot down on JJ's calf. The teen couldn't help the gutteral scream that erupted from his chest as he felt the bone in his leg snap.

Luke sneered down at JJ's crumpled form, his shadow looming large in the dimly lit living room. "Get out of my house," he growled, his voice low and venomous. "And don't come back until you learn some damn respect."

JJ tried to argue, he tried to finally fight back and plead for his dad to stop and help him for once, but it got him nowhere. He did his best to get to his feet, his right leg on fire as it practically hung limply from the knee down. He stuttered one more time, trying to apologise for what he'd said, begging for his father to forgive him so he may get a fighting chance of some medical help...

But, of course, Luke Maybank was a monster. And though JJ would never say it out loud, he knew this. He knew his dad would never feel bad for what he does to his son. And JJ wonders sometimes if Luke actually enjoys it.

"YOU THINK YOU CAN TALK TO ME LIKE THAT AND STILL KEEP THIS ROOF OVER YOUR HEAD?! GET OUT!!" Luke screamed, advancing towards the blonde with an exhaust pipe in hand, raised over JJ's head.

JJ flinched harshly at the eardrum shattering voice, losing balance and falling back against the wooden cabinet in the corner of the room. He'd really fucked up this time.

He quickly used all his remaining strength and bolted for the door, his broken leg dragging behind him and sending shock waves of white hot pain through his body as he made his way outside and into the pouring rain.

Of course it's raining.

As if the universe would give him even a little break.

He had no jacket, no phone, no bike keys, probably shattered ribs, and a broken leg. He didn't know what to do.

The icy rain pelted JJ's face as he limped down the dirt road, his breath coming in short, labored gasps. The pain in his leg was blinding, but he forced himself to keep moving. There was only one place he could go right now that would guarantee his survival through this.

After what felt like hours, he found himself at the Chateau. The soft glow of the porch light and the familiar muffled laughter from inside was like a beacon. His family was in there. His real family. His 'normal' family. The people who actually cared about him.

JJ hesitated, leaning against the porch railing for support, his soaked clothes clinging to his trembling frame. He tried to compose himself, wiping the blood from his face with his sleeve, though it only smeared across his cheek. With a shaky breath, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"JJ!" Kiara’s voice was the first to cut through the warm chatter. "OH MY GOD, JAYJ!!!"

She moved faster than he'd ever seen before. Or maybe that was just because his head was pounding and blurring the world together in front of his eyes.

"Jay, what the fuck happened?!" She asked, though it sounded more like a beg. She took him in her arms and walked him... Well, tried to walk him... over to the couch.

“Ah, you know," JJ said through a wince, forcing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Just got caught in the rain. No big deal." He ignored the concerned looks, dropping onto the couch with a groan.

Pope frowned, crossing his arms as he took a knee in front of the soaking blonde. "You’re absolutely drenched, man. And you look like you got hit by a truck."

JJ chuckled weakly. "Truck? Nah, just a... uh, a little spill on the bike. Nothing serious."

Sarah crouched in front of him, her sharp eyes scanning his face. "This looks more than a 'little spill', JJ."

Before he can answer, John B walks into the room and instantly drops the pile of blankets and pillows in his arms as his eyes land on JJ's now shivering body, he runs to the blonde's side in just a few lunges.

"What the hell happened?!" John B yells, his voice cracking harshly. His eyes scanned all over JJ, wincing at each blossoming bruise and bleeding cut that littered his soaking skin.

"Just- it was... it was a bike accident, Bree."

JJ’s voice wavered as he tried to steady his breathing, leaning further into the couch as exhaustion weighed him down like a lead blanket. The warmth of the Chateau was suffocating after the cold rain, but he wouldn’t admit that either.

John B’s jaw clenched, his gaze darting to the others. Pope grabbed one of the abandoned blankets from the hardwood floor and wrapped it around JJ’s shoulders, the concern in his eyes deepening as he felt how cold his friend was as his fingers brushed JJ's shoulder.

"Bike accident, my ass," John B muttered under his breath, crouching to JJ's level. "Come on, man, tell us the truth."

"I am telling the truth," JJ retorted weakly, his usual defiance dulled by the pain coursing through his body. "You guys worry too much."

"Oh my god, your leg, JJ!!" Sarah gasps, her hand flying to her mouth as she examines his obvious mangled calf and how the bone seemed to be disconnected under the skin of the joint.

Kiara shook her head in disbelief, pulling out her phone. “Right, that's it. I’m calling someone-”

“No!" JJ barked, his voice stronger now. It startled everyone into silence. His eyes, wide and pleading, darted between his friends. "Don’t... Please. I’m fine. Just need some shut eye for a few hours."

The Pogues exchanged uneasy glances, their concern thick in the air. His plea hung there, desperate and raw, but they all knew better. Especially John B who'd seen his best friend in states similar to this many times before. It was then that he realised what really may have happened.

"Jay, you're not fine," John B finally said, his voice low but steady, trying to keep it together. He couldn't outright say what he thought had happened, especially in front of the Pogues, JJ wouldn't like that. "Look at yourself. You’re barely staying upright."

JJ tried to muster a smirk, the corners of his mouth twitching before giving up entirely. "I’ve had worse." He muttered with slurred words, his eyes rolling heavily against the back of his eyelids.

Before anyone could argue further, JJ's head lolled back against the couch, his body slumping as his eyes fluttered closed. For a moment, the Pogues froze, the sound of the rain pounding against the roof filling the silence.

"JJ?" John B shot forward, his hands on JJ's shoulders, shaking him gently. "Hey, Jay! wake up, man."

But JJ didn’t respond. His breaths came shallow and uneven, his soaked frame trembling even under the blanket. Panic set in as the group scrambled to assess the situation.

"Did he just- is he passed out?" Kiara asked with worried confusion, placing her hand on JJ's other leg.

"He's burning up," Pope said, pressing the back of his hand to the blonde's forehead. "And he’s freezing at the same time. He’s probably got hypothermia. Or worse."

"We need to do something now," Sarah insisted, her voice sharp with urgency. "We can’t just sit here!"

John B nodded, his jaw tight. "Pope, grab some towels and more blankets. Kie, Sarah, boil some water. We need to get him warmed up."

As the others rushed to follow his instructions, John B gently shifted JJ to lie more comfortably on the couch, careful not to jostle his obviously broken leg. He grabbed JJ's hand, squeezing it tightly. "You’re gonna be okay, Jay. We’ve got you."

Kiara returned moments later with a bowl of warm water and a cloth. She began carefully cleaning the cuts on JJ’s face, biting her lip to keep from crying as she worked. Sarah wrapped another dry blanket around him while Pope piled every spare blanket in the house over him.

Minutes passed, each one feeling like an eternity. JJ stirred weakly, his eyes fluttering open for a brief moment. "Told... you... I'm fine," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Shut up, JJ," John B said, his voice breaking. "You’re not fine, but you will be. We’re taking care of you now. Just rest."

JJ’s lips curved into a faint smile before he drifted off again, his body finally giving in to the exhaustion and pain.

"What do we do about his leg?" Kiara asked in a hushed whisper.

John B glanced at the mangled limb, his face pale. "JJ can't go to the hospital. We'll have to deal with it ourselves."

"Are you crazy?" Kiara snapped, her voice rising slightly. "We’re not doctors! We could make it so much worse!"

"She’s right," Pope said, his mind racing. "We need to stabilize it, but we shouldn’t move it too much without knowing what we’re doing. He needs real medical attention, JB."

"Guys, we CANNOT take him to a hospital," John B said, his voice tight with frustration. "What if they call his dad? Or worse, DCS? You know how that could go for JJ."

The room fell silent, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. JJ let out a weak groan, and John B’s expression hardened. "We’ll handle this ourselves for now, but we’re getting help if it gets any worse."

The night passed in agonising slow motion. Kiara and Sarah kept JJ warm, frequently switching out damp towels and blankets for dry ones. Pope scoured the internet for instructions on how to splint a leg, carefully jotting down steps. John B stayed at JJ’s side, never letting go of his hand.

As the hours ticked by, JJ’s breathing more shallow and ragged, and his fever remained stubbornly high. The group made the difficult decision to stabilize his leg as best as they could while he was mostly out of it, hoping the pain wouldn't be as bad in his unconscious state. Under Pope’s guidance, they created a makeshift splint from a few wooden planks and spare blankets, doing their best to keep the leg immobile.

“Easy, easy,” John B murmured, holding JJ still as Kiara carefully adjusted the splint. JJ groaned softly, his face contorted in pain even in unconsciousness.

“He’s gonna hate us for this when he wakes up,” Kiara muttered, tying off the last knot.

“Better he hates us than loses his leg,” Pope said grimly, wiping sweat from his brow.

Kiara had eventually taken full charge of keeping JJ’s fever down, her face pale and determined as she alternated between cool compresses and wiping away the sweat that beaded on every inch of his skin. She kept glancing at his face, as if willing him to wake up and flash that cocky grin that always reassured her, even when he was at his worst.

"Why isn’t his fever breaking?" she muttered, her voice strained with frustration and fear. She dipped another cloth in the bowl of water Sarah had brought and pressed it gently to JJ’s flushed forehead. "He’s STILL burning up. This cannot be normal."

Sarah crouched beside her, her eyes wide and shining with unshed tears. "He’s freezing too. Look at his hands." She held up one of JJ’s limp hands, the knuckles pale and trembling despite the layers of blankets covering him.

Pope was hunched over his phone, scrolling through medical forums and emergency guides. His notebook was filled with scribbled notes, diagrams, and instructions on how to treat hypothermia and splint a broken bone. "We have to keep him warm. That’s what it says. And, when he wakes up, we can give him fluid to keep him hydrated."

John B sat at JJ’s side, his hand gripping JJ’s tightly as if his touch alone could anchor his best friend to the world. His jaw was tight, his eyes flickering between JJ’s battered face and the makeshift splint on his leg. Every wince, every labored breath JJ took made his chest tighten further.

"Guys," Sarah started, a slight hesitation in her voice. "Can we please talk about how this clearly wasn't a bike accident."

John B flinched. He knew the real reason, even if JJ hadn't said it explicitly, but he couldn't tell the others without JJ's permission.

"Yeah," Kiara added softly, glancing at John B. "I don't believe it..."

John B sighed, running a hand through his hair. He hated being the one to hold back, especially when it involved JJ, but he also knew how fiercely private his best friend was about his home life. He looked at the others, his voice low and deliberate. "Guys… JJ doesn’t want to talk about it. That has to be enough for now."

"Enough?" Kiara snapped, her voice rising. "JB, look at him! He’s broken, feverish, and freezing! And, I'm sorry, but some of these bruises couldn't have been caused by a crash. I mean, that one there literally looks like the size of a fist." She says, gesturing to a purple and blue painted patch on his abdomen.

"Wait..." Pope interrupted. Ever the smart one of course, he'd figured it out. "It- it wasn't a bike accident at all was it?... And you know that don't you, John B? Someone did this to him."

John B hesitated, his eyes flicking to JJ’s pale face. He hated how obvious he must’ve looked. He wanted to deny it, to deflect like JJ would, but he couldn’t. Not when Pope was staring at him with that determined look, and Kiara and Sarah were already piecing the truth together.

"John B..." Kiara’s voice was softer now, a plea rather than a demand.

He let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping. "It’s not my story to tell," he admitted finally, his voice thick with emotion. "But yeah… someone did this."

The room fell into a heavy silence. Sarah’s hand flew to her mouth as tears slipped down her cheeks. Kiara stared at JJ, her lips pressed into a tight line, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the blanket. Pope looked down, his jaw clenching.

"His dad," Sarah whispered, the words trembling in the air like a fragile glass ready to shatter.

John B gave a small nod, avoiding everyone’s eyes. "Yeah."

He hadn't technically said it himself, so he hope JJ wouldn't be too mad. Though... it didn't matter. JJ's secret was out now and he wasn't conscious to do anything about it.

"That son of a bitch," Kiara hissed, her voice venomous. She stood abruptly, pacing the room like a caged tiger. "How long has this been going on, John B? How long have you known?!"

"Since I found out accidentally last year... But, and he won't admit this to me, I think it's been happening for a lot longer." John B admitted, his voice low. "But he doesn’t talk about it, Kie. He never lets anyone in. He just… he deals with it. And I’ve tried to help, but you know how he is. He doesn’t want pity."

"It’s not pity," Sarah said fiercely, her tears drying as her anger flared. "It’s love. We love him. Why can’t he see that?"

"Because he doesn’t think he deserves it," John B said bitterly. "That’s what his dad’s done to him. Made him think he’s not worth anything."

Kiara stopped pacing and knelt by JJ again, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. Her voice trembled as she spoke. "Well, he’s wrong. He’s so wrong. We’re not letting him go through this shit anymore."

"No way in hell," Pope agreed, his voice firm. "If we have to drag him out of there ourselves, we will."

JJ stirred weakly, his brow furrowing as he mumbled something incoherent. The group immediately huddled closer, their voices soft and soothing as they reassured him.

"You’re safe, Jay," John B whispered, gripping his hand tightly. "We’ve got you, man. Always."

As the first light of dawn filtered through the windows, the atmosphere in the Chateau remained tense but resolute. JJ’s fever had broken a few hours ago, his breathing evening out, though he was still deeply unconscious. The Pogues had worked tirelessly through the remainder of the night, making sure he was watched over like a hawk at every waking hour.

John B sat beside JJ, his hand never leaving his best friend's. He felt a wave of relief as he noticed a bit of color returning to JJ's cheeks, but the anger and guilt still churned within him. He glanced down at the blonde's leg, and wondered if there was any way in the world they could get him medical help without taking him to the hospital.

That was when he remembered JJ's cousin Ricky. Ricky the paramedic weed dealer.

John B’s eyes lit up with an idea as he straightened in his seat. "Ricky," he muttered under his breath.

"Ricky?" Pope looked up from the chair he had been slumped in, exhaustion written all over his face.

"JJ’s cousin. He’s a paramedic," John B explained quickly, his words tumbling over each other. "Also, he's not exactly a law-abiding citizen. He might be able to help without asking questions or getting the authorities involved."

Kiara perked up at the mention, her tired eyes narrowing in consideration. "You think he’d come out here? And would JJ even want him involved?"

John B shrugged, his jaw tightening. "Do we have another option? JJ’s leg is broken, and if it doesn’t get set properly, it could mess him up for life. He might hate me for it, but I’m not gonna sit here and watch him suffer. Plus, I think he'd rather Ricky fix it then waking up in a hospital bed."

"Call him," Sarah said, her voice firm despite her fatigue. "We’ll deal with JJ’s reaction later."

John B pulled out his phone and quickly scrolled through his contacts until he found Ricky’s number. It had been ages since he last called him, but if there was one thing Ricky was known for, it was showing up when JJ needed him most.

The phone rang twice before a groggy voice answered. "Who the hell’s calling me at-" there was a pause as Ricky seemed to glance at a clock, "S- Seven in the fucking morning!?"

"Ricky, it’s John B," he said, urgency lacing his tone. "It’s about JJ. He’s hurt bad. Can you come to the Chateau? Like, now?"

There was a pause, and then Ricky’s voice sharpened, all traces of sleep gone. "What happened?"

John B hesitated, glancing at the others. "It’s… It was a- a bike accident. We think he's got a broken leg, and he may be hypothermic. He’s feverish, out of it, and-" his voice cracked slightly, "We can’t take him to the hospital."

Ricky cursed under his breath. "I’ll be there in twenty. Don’t move him more than you have to."

The line went dead, and John B lowered the phone, exhaling shakily. "He’s on his way."

The Pogues collectively let out a breath of relief. For the first time since JJ had stumbled through the door, they felt a glimmer of hope.

"Alright," Kiara said, standing up and brushing her hands on her jeans. "Let’s make sure everything’s ready for when he gets here. Towels, water, anything he might need."

When Ricky arrived twenty minutes later, he burst through the door with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His sharp eyes immediately landed on JJ, and his expression darkened. "Shit," he muttered, rushing to kneel beside the couch.

"That's one hell of a bike crash." Ricky muttered, his voice low but intense as he began unpacking medical supplies.

"Can you help him?"John B asked, ignoring Ricky's comment to avoid suspicions.

Ricky nodded, already assessing JJ’s injuries with practiced efficiency. "I’ll do what I can. But you’re gonna have to help me hold him down when I work on this leg. It’s gonna hurt like hell."

The Pogues exchanged uneasy glances but quickly nodded. They would do whatever it took to help JJ.

"Alright," Ricky said, pulling out what looked like a roll of bandages, a splint, and a small vial of something. "You guys did a hack job with this." He stated, gesturing to the makeshift splint the Pogues had put on JJ's leg.

The group looked around at eachother with guilty winces, wondering if they'd somehow made it worse by accident.

"I’ll try to stabilize the leg. Properly. He’s out cold, so that’ll help. But if he wakes up, he’s gonna be in a world of pain. You sure none of you want to reconsider the hospital? I could probably get us there faster if I use my ambulance."

"No hospitals," John B said firmly, meeting Ricky’s gaze. "You know why."

Ricky sighed but didn’t argue further. He turned to Pope and Kiara. "You two, hold his arms. Make sure he doesn’t thrash too much. And you, keep those compresses coming. We don’t want him overheating again." She orders Sarah.

The group moved into position as Ricky carefully cut away the soaked fabric of JJ’s jeans to expose the swollen, bruised leg. He winced at the sight but didn’t say anything, his hands moving deftly as he assessed the break.

"This isn’t a clean break," he muttered. "But it’s not the worst I’ve seen. We’ll need to realign it before I can splint it."

"Realign it?" Kiara asked, her voice trembling. "As in, you’re gonna…"

"Set the bone back in place," Ricky confirmed. "It’s not gonna be pretty, but it has to be done."

The group braced themselves as Ricky took hold of JJ’s leg, positioning his hands carefully. "On three," he said, glancing at John B. "Hold him tight."

John B nodded, gripping JJ’s shoulder firmly. "Do it."

"One… two…" Ricky didn’t wait for three. He yanked the leg into alignment with a sickening crunch. JJ’s body arched off the couch, a heartbreaking yelp escaping his lips despite his unconscious state. The sound made everyone’s stomach turn, but Ricky didn’t falter. He worked quickly, securing the splint and wrapping the leg tightly.

"Done," Ricky said after a tense few minutes, sitting back on his heels. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, his expression grim. "Now we wait. If the swelling goes down and he doesn’t show any signs of infection, he should be okay."

The Pogues exhaled collectively, their bodies sagging with relief. John B looked at Ricky, his voice low but sincere. "Thank you."

"What about these bruises and things? Also the potential hypothermia?"

Ricky gave a tired but knowing glance at JJ’s bruised body, shaking his head slightly. "The bruises will heal, but I’ll be keeping an eye on them for signs of internal damage. For now, he needs to stay warm and hydrated. I’ve seen worse hypothermia cases, but if he doesn’t wake up soon, we WILL have to get him to a hospital. Or at least a clinic where they can give him fluids."

"But we can't, Ric-" John B argues, instantly being interrupted by Sarah.

"Wait," she says, raising her finger up as a light bulb appeared over her head. "Ricky is JJ's family, a legal adult AND a professional in medical care. So if we DID need to take Jayj to a hospital, they wouldn't need to contact Luke, right?!"

Ricky paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "That's true. If I'm the one taking him in, we can present it as a family decision, and since I’m his cousin and legally responsible, they won’t contact Luke."

John B looked relieved, but he still wasn’t entirely convinced. “He still won't like it... JJ has always hated hospitals."

John B let out a heavy sigh, his fingers twitching nervously as he glanced back at JJ, still out on the couch. "I just don't want to do anything he wouldn't want us to do... But... I also can't let him stay like this."

Ricky placed a reassuring hand on John B's shoulder. "You’re doing the right thing, man. We’ve got his back, all of us. But, if he doesn’t wake up soon, we’ll need to make a decision, no matter how he feels about it."

Kiara, who had been sitting by JJ’s side, gently ran a hand through his damp golden hair. "I hate that he thinks he has to deal with all this alone," she whispered, her voice full of sadness. "He's so damn stubborn."

An hour later, though it still felt like an eternity, JJ’s hand twitched, then his eyelids fluttered open. His breathing hitched as his eyes struggled to focus, the light too bright and his head pounding.

"Jay, hey," John B said softly, leaning in close. "You’re okay, man. You’re safe."

JJ blinked a few times, still dazed. "What... happened?" His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.

"You passed out, man... At around 10pm last night" Pope said, kneeling beside him. "You’ve been out for a while. It's 9am now."

JJ's eyes flickered around the room, landing on his friends before narrowing slightly. "I’m fine," he muttered, his usual cocky tone not quite making it past the exhaustion in his voice.

"Yeah, sure you are," Kiara said, her voice soft but firm. JJ went to try and sit up but was instantly held back down again by her shaking hands. "Stay there. You've hurt your leg. Badly."

JJ glanced down at the splint covering his calf with a mix of confusion and surprise. "What the hell?"

"Your friends here said you had a little accident with your bike," Ricky said, his voice steady but with a hint of sarcasm. "I had to set your leg for you. You remember the crash?"

JJ’s eyes snapped to Ricky, then to the others. "Uh- uh, yeah... it was... it was nasty... but, Ricky, I'm fine. I don’t need any help," he muttered, but the words lacked conviction.

"Enough, JJ!" Kiara spat. "You really think we were just gonna let you potentially die on John B's couch?!"

JJ slumped in on himself at that, shutting up immediately as he threw his head back against the back of the couch.

Ricky jumped up and ran for the door, shouting about 'needing to grab something from the car' before disappearing outside. John B the leaned in towards JJ as soon as his cousin was out of the room.

"Jay," He said, his voice more serious now, "They know..."

JJ blinked slowly, his foggy mind struggling to piece everything together. The pain in his leg was sharp, throbbing like a constant reminder of the night before. His eyes darted between his friends, each of their faces filled with concern.

"They know what?" JJ croaked, his voice rough and uncertain.

"About what happened. What really happened. They know it wasn't a bike crash." John B whispered, slight guilt and shame on his voice. He felt like he'd betrayed his friend's trust.

"Wh- what are you talking about, Bree?" JJ pleaded, his eyes desperate as he prayed John B wasn't referring to what he thought, he was referring to.

Kiara knelt beside the blonde, taking his hand in hers. "Jayj, we know it was your dad. And we're so sorry we hadn't put together the pieces until now."

The room was eerily quiet. JJ’s heart skipped a beat, and his stomach twisted in discomfort. His mind raced, scrambling to grasp at any excuse, any way to downplay it, to make it all go away. But his friends weren't having it. They knew, and he couldn’t hide behind that cocky smirk anymore. Not when his body was broken and vulnerable.

"I... I didn’t want you guys to know," JJ mumbled, his voice barely audible. He tried to pull himself up, fighting against the fire shooting through his lower half, but Kiara’s firm hand on his kept him grounded. He wasn’t going anywhere.

"John B... Why- why would you?" The older boy swallowed hard, guilt and sorrow mixing in his chest. He could see the fear in JJ's eyes, the panic that came with not being in control. It was a look he knew too well.

"Because we could've lost you tonight, JJ. And you need to know that we're never going to let that happen to you again. I've let this go unmentioned for too long... I can't just keep patching you up and letting you go back there just for it to happen again."

JJ's breath hitched as he absorbed John B's words. His mind felt foggy, his body heavy with the reality of what had just been said. The truth was out. His dad’s violence had been exposed, and in that moment, JJ couldn’t retreat into his usual carefree facade.

"I didn’t want you guys to worry," JJ muttered weakly, his eyes drifting closed again, overwhelmed by the gravity of everything. "I’m fine. It’s... it’s just... what I deal with."

Kiara squeezed his hand, her grip tight with a mixture of relief and frustration. "It’s not okay, JJ. None of this is okay." Her voice was firm, but her words were tinged with a sadness that she couldn’t hide.

Pope and Sarah sat on the edge of the couch, Pope's brow furrowed in thought. "You don’t have to do this alone, man." He said with a sympathetic smile. "We’re all here for you. Always."

JJ, though still hesitant and guarded, allowed his lips to curl into a faint, tired smile at Pope’s words. The warmth of his friends surrounding him felt somewhat foreign after so long of feeling alone, but it also felt so unbelievably comforting.

John B leaned closer, his voice unwavering. "You’ve got a whole family here now, JJ. We’ll protect you. No matter what. You'll always have a roof over your head here."

It took a lot out of him to do so, but eventually, JJ nodded. Suddenly feeling like a huge weight lifted from his chest, releasing his lungs and allowing him to breath fully again for the first time in years.

Of course, JJ still had a long way to go before everything would be ok again. Especially while dealing with a broken leg. Having ADHD and a broken limb where you're forced to spend most of the day resting and not doing anything was like agony to JJ. All he wanted to do was go surfing or play soccer in the front yard, or even run a mile! Anything was better than being stuck on this damn couch. But he got through it eventually! Because he had his family by his side the whole time.

Even Ricky made sure to pop round every now and then to check on his little cuz.

JJ was going to be ok.