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bestfriendsincethe3rdgrade · 4 months

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for the song prompt, here's two: stay by gracie abrams and finally // beautiful stranger by halsey

two for the price of one! i like it!

stay

The day they broke apart, it was raining.

Thunder began to rumble when they started to argue. They argued over what they always argued over-- the gold. JJ still wanted it, despite the fact that it had cost John B and Sarah their lives. It was the only way JJ could think of to honor them, as stupid as that sounds now. He couldn’t let Ward get away with it. If he let it go, then the kooks would get everything, and the pogues would get nothing. JJ couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let his best friend’s sacrifice be for fucking nothing.

It was a simple affair, really. JJ wanted to go after the gold. Pope didn’t. He had a rescheduled scholarship interview to think about, after all.

Rain stung against his skin when Pope said that. Of course he knew Pope had another interview coming. Of course he was happy for Pope to have a second chance at freedom, a second chance at a happy, successful life. Of course he knew. He just thought-- well.

He thought that-- after everything, everything they’d fought, laughed, and cried over-- after everything they’d been through together-- he thought that Pope would want to stay.

Pope insisted that they needed to give up the treasure hunting nonsense and let the gold go. Bury it in the past, JJ thought bitterly, like the two empty coffins they’d put in the dirt not but a week ago.

A small part of JJ knew that Pope was right. A big part of JJ was lost and grieving and fucking furious.

Lightning danced over a raging ocean when JJ lost it. It was selfish of him, he knows. But JJ had always been a little bit stupid when it comes to the big picture. That scholarship meant everything to Pope, and he’d almost lost his chance once. Now that he had it again, he wasn’t going to let it slip past him. JJ knew that.

Pope had a chance to get away, and he was taking it. And in that moment, JJ hated him for it.

Cold water slid down JJ’s spine as Pope walked away for the last time. He hoped the rainwater would have extinguished the misplaced rage and grief in his heart. Hoped it would have cooled the fury burning in his chest, the stubbornness forcing his fingers into fists. Impossibly, JJ hoped the storm would have let him see reason.

It didn’t.

The day Pope left for DC, the sun was shining. He packed up all of his things into three suitcases, loaded them into the car, and left. Kiara rode with him to the airport to say goodbye. JJ spent the day surfing.

He spent the night drinking alone.

The day the bank takes the chateau, it drizzles. The day he burns the rest of John B’s things, it pours. The day Heyward offers him a job and a place to stay, it’s a cloudy, mute morning. The day Kiara tells him he should give Pope a call, it hails.

She does that a lot. Insist that he should reach out. He never listens. Pride is an evil, spiteful thing, and it’s got its claws dug into his heart so deep JJ thinks it might be the only thing holding his heart together in the first place.

He doesn’t tell Kie that, but JJ thinks she might know anyway.

This goes on for months. Kie insists he should give Pope a call. JJ never does.

He wants to, though.

It comes slow and small, this wanting. It starts in his chest, slips right between the bloody claws of pride and makes a home in the scar tissues on his heart. It begins to grow, and grow, and grow until there’s a little flower blooming there-- right in the remnants of the only friendship he didn’t want to shatter. And oh, this little flower hurts in it’s own right. It makes him ache in a new kind of way. A way that makes him want to reach out. A way that makes him want to mend, makes him want to heal.

He thinks of reasons why he should. In the end, he comes up with only four.

Because he’s selfish. Because he’s tired. Because he’s sorry. Because it’s raining.

The day he calls Pope, the sun finally shines, and that flower blooms.

finally // beautiful stranger

The drive back to the outer banks is as eye opening as it is nostalgic.

The sun is as yellow as Pope remembers, maybe a little less vibrant than it was in his youth, but still bright nonetheless. The drive makes his eyes tired, and the sunlight bouncing off the ocean in the distance catches in his rearview mirror on occasion, making him squint. He doesn’t mind, though. The waves are still just as beautiful as they were when he was a kid.

The poverty of his hometown is clearer to him, now. Pope thinks it’s a little funny, how idyllic childhood makes the world seem. Money doesn’t matter so much when you're a kid, even when it should. But childhood is meant to be spent not worrying about the adult world. When you’re a kid, you’re supposed to worry about spaceships and dragons, not when your next meal would be.

At least, for normal kids, anyway.

The pogues weren’t like that. It seemed like worry and fear followed after them wherever they went. It was just a part of the life. They were so caught up running from beatings and kooks and security guards, they didn’t have much time for imagination. Sure, they still had dreams, but not about dragons. They dreamed of second chances. Second chances to start over and dump the shitty cards they’d been dealt.

The pogues already knew that dragons didn’t exist because they had real monsters to worry about.

Maybe that’s why they all latched onto the idea of the gold so hard, Pope thinks as he pulls into the parking lot of the wreck. Just for a chance to use their imaginations and act like normal kids, for once.

Kiara is waiting for him in the lot. Leaned up against the side of her Honda Civic -- which has more bumper stickers plastered on it than it does actual bumper-- sucking on the straw of a pink looking drink she must’ve got on the ride down, because there’s no way in hell Pope’s mom wouldn’t have heard about a new Starbucks on the cut and told him immediately.

“Heya, stranger,” Kie smiles wide when he steps out of the car, and Pope’s heart trips over itself a little at the sight. Fuck, he’s missed her.

“Hey yourself,” he says before striding over and pulling her into a spinning hug that makes both of them laugh. The familiarity of the motion makes something warm settle in Pope’s chest, and he sets her back down with a smile. “How have you been?”

“Good!” Kie says cheerfully, before posing against her bumper like she might for the cover of vogue. “Cali’s been good to me, can’t you tell?”

He can tell. The California sun has made her tan skin glow, and the many flowering tattoos she’s got on her forearms spill out of her shirt sleeves like they’ve always belonged there. Her curls are still as wild as they’ve always been, pulled up into a bun and held back by a multicolored bandana. She looks as beautiful as ever.

“I can definitely see that.” Pope agrees, and Kiara beams.

Despite his delight at seeing her again, Pope finds himself glancing about the parking lot, looking for a familiar hint of blond hair, the seemingly endless amount of light in blue eyes, the bright hint of a smile.

The sad thing is, deep down, Pope knows he’s not going to see him, standing there between the cars. He still looks anyway.

“Is he coming?” Pope asks, and something in Kie’s smile falters, a bit.

“C’mon,” she says, and slips her arm into his. She leads him towards the restaurant. “I had my mom reserve us our usual table. You can tell me all about DC and your fancy forensic program while we get a drink, okay?”

Pope takes her avoidance for what it is. He keeps his smile up, even if he doesn’t want to so much anymore. “Okay.”

They spend the next few hours drinking and catching up. Kiara tells him all about California and working with GreenPeace and the sun, and Pope tells her about GWU and the forensic program and the snow.

Pope will gladly admit that it feels nice to come back again. The wreck is a place of comfort for both of them, filled with memories of laughter that haven’t been tainted and ruined by the world. It’s a little bubble of safety they find themselves in, and Pope takes more solace in it than he probably should.

Despite this, he still feels like there’s a piece of that safety and comfort missing. The empty chair beside him serves as a reminder, and Pope tries his best to fight off the disappointment that his best friend is not there to fill it.

Well. Former best friend. Maybe.

They haven’t talked since Pope left. At least, not really. The occasional phone call didn’t exactly clear the air like talking in person would.

That fight had been so stupid in hindsight, but they had been pretty stupid as kids. It was part of their charm, Pope supposes, but. That still didn’t make him feel much better.

The night was winding down when it happened. Both he and Kie were well and thoroughly on their way to being a little too drunk to drive, and were, admittedly, starting to turn a bit giggly. Kie saw him first. Pope saw the way her eyes widened, mouth stretching into a grin before Pope was whipping around to look, and there he was.

He stood, hands shoved into a pair of well worn jeans. His T-shirt showed a big logo for the mechanic’s place in town, meaning he’d probably just got off of work. A familiar shark tooth necklace still dangled around his neck.

He looked tired, but healthy. A bit of stubble stood out against his cheeks, and his hair was longer than Pope remembered. There was a well worn looking hair tie wrapped around his wrist, probably for keeping his hair out of his face while he was at work. His eyes were just as blue as Pope remembered.

“Hi,” JJ said.

Kiara was up and out of her seat before Pope even had time to think. JJ’s face broke out into a smile as he embraced her tight. Pope stood quietly while Kie berated JJ for never calling her enough. JJ flushed, mumbling something about working full time and running errands for Heyward. Kie rolled her eyes at the excuse, but her smile was fond.

Then Pope was standing in front of them, and he and JJ were face to face.

“Hey,” Pope said with an honest smile. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” JJ huffed out a slight smile, but wouldn’t meet Pope’s eyes. Pope had never seen JJ look so nervous. “It’s been a while.”

“I missed you.” Pope said. Because he didn’t know what else to say, and because it was the truth.

There was an unbearable silence for a moment as they just stared at each other. Then--

“Look, Pope,” JJ started. “I’m sorry--,” and before he could say anything else Pope was pulling JJ into a hug that was maybe just a little too tight. JJ went still for a moment, then melted into Pope’s arms like he’d never wanted to be anywhere else.

“Wanna have a drink?” Pope asked as they broke apart, gesturing back to their table.

JJ’s smile was small, but it was a smile nonetheless. “Sure.”

The night went on, and JJ began to loosen. He smiled more, began to add his own witty commentary to the conversation, laughed at Pope’s bad jokes between sips of beer. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

And when JJ fully leaned into Pope’s side as they all burst into laughter, his smile so bright and his eyes so happy and blue, the only thing Pope could think was-- finally.

#outer banks #jjpope #mayward #s1 vibes GALORE MY BELOVED #these are precious and everything i want them to be 😭😭#fic rec

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