downgrade // jj maybank (obx)

i. thirty-eight - gone

thirty-eight - gone

As darkness falls, the noise persists. 

Violet steps onto the wet mud with a squelch, exiting the warmth of the police car and moving toward a battered tent in the distance. She follows Shoupe closely, keeping her head low as she darts between towering men to keep pace with the angered officer. She knows that the four of them are in a world of trouble now - the last thing she wants is to worsen the impending punishment.

Concerned bystanders observe from a distance, trying to catch a glimpse of the chaos unfolding by the water. Though the SBI forms a firm line to prevent curious citizens from approaching, they still manage to catch a slight view of the four teenagers' faces. Whatever tonight's outcome may be, they'll undoubtedly be remembered for helping John B escape the Island. However, at this point, they'd rather bear a tarnished reputation than see their best friend in prison.

Walking alongside Violet, JJ's eyes are fixed on the ground as he drags his feet in solemn silence. Violet occasionally glances at him, uncertain of what to say in this situation. His blonde hair falls over his eyes, and his gaze lifts to meet hers. Violet quickly avoids his glance as her heart rate slightly accelerates.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly.

Violet nods quickly.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

The group enters the tent, and Violet takes the lead. The tight squeeze between officers makes it difficult for them to stay close to each other, with Pope and Kiara lagging behind. Unbeknownst to them all, JJ's hand brushes against Violet's back as he follows, making sure not to lose her in the crowd. The idea of accidentally touching her dances around in his mind, though he votes against it for the time being.

"Right here," Shoupe halts abruptly, pointing to a row of four chairs against the tent's wall. "Sit down. Don't move."

Violet takes a seat between Kie and JJ, the chair uncomfortably cold as the rain intensifies. The sound of rain hitting the tarp is almost as loud as the screeching conversations surrounding them. The four of them simply want the night to be over.

From the corner of her eye, Violet observes Pope grabbing Kie's hand and giving it a light squeeze. They exchange a meaningful look, silently offering each other a bit of comfort amidst the chaos they've caused. Her gaze then shifts to the boy on her right, his hand clenched into a fist as it rests on his knee.

JJ gazes forward, his jaw clenched while his knee bounces slightly. Though his expression seems to radiate intense focus, his mind is filled with anxious thoughts about his friend. How is John B faring in the storm? How far has he gone? Have the police managed to catch him?

Each minor anxiety feels amplified tonight, much to JJ's dismay. He isn't one to easily succumb to worry, but when it comes to his friends, it seems to be the only thing he can do.

Yet, for the first time on this cold night, those anxious thoughts are frozen and washed away as a weight settles onto his arm. Damp strands of dark hair fall over his chest as he looks down to see Violet resting her cheek against his shoulder. His eyes widen in realization as he watches her chest rise and fall slowly with deep, steady breaths. He can only see the top of her dark hair as he gazes down.

He swallows, shifting slightly in his seat so her face isn't pressed into the corner of his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he finds himself comfortably resting his temple on top of her head, a small smile gracing his face.

And there the group sits in a somewhat blissful silence. They sit, torn between the desire to go home and the desperation to hear news of John B's safety. Uncertain if such news will come tonight, they're comforted by the fact that they have each other to weather the storm.