「 ✦  P4L ✦ 」

────

MJ SAT AT the back of the classroom, her chin propped in her hand, barely listening to Mr. Sunn drone on about Diocletian. She'd begged her outreach worker not to send her to some stupid outreach school program, to let her stay at Kildare County High where at least she had some roots. But no—she was here, surrounded by uniforms, privilege, and people who whispered about her like she couldn't hear.

Her pen scratched lazily against the notebook, not jotting notes but doodling nonsense. The occasional glance at her twin, JJ, was enough to ground her. He sat two rows ahead, slumped in his seat, running a hand through his messy blond hair as he struggled to sit still. Despite the tension of the last few weeks, they were still thick as thieves. He was her tether in all this chaos, just like she was his.

MJ glanced toward Kie and immediately regretted it. Kie sat near the front, focused on her notes, but her cold expression said enough. They hadn't spoken in weeks—not since Kie had let her anger boil over, accusing MJ of being a traitor, of choosing Rafe over the Pogues. MJ had tried to explain, but it didn't matter. Kie wasn't interested in her side of the story. 

Pope, at least, was still speaking to her. He sent her the occasional message to check in, even meeting her for coffee a few times when JJ was too deep in his spirals to deal with anything. Pope was also helping her dig into the tangled mess of MJ's addiction and short jail time. 

A loud ding snapped MJ out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Pope guiltily glancing at his phone.

"Whose phone was that?" Mr. Sunn asked, annoyed. His gaze swept over the class, but no one spoke up.

MJ stifled a snort, muttering, "Classic Pope."

As Mr. Sunn continued his lecture, MJ pulled her phone out, instinctively checking her messages. Her stomach sank when she saw the group chat light up with an image of John B and Sarah sent from an unknown number.

Her eyes darted to JJ, who was already crawling out of his seat toward Pope. Kie turned to glare at JJ and Pope, muttering something sharp under her breath that MJ couldn't hear.

JJ stood abruptly, storming out of the classroom without a word. Kie followed after him, tossing a cold glare over her shoulder at MJ as she went.

MJ hesitated. Did she want to deal with this? But then Pope gave her a pointed nod, the kind that said you belong here, and she grabbed her bag, following them out.

She caught up just in time to see JJ stumble over a mop and bucket in the hallway. "Seriously?" she deadpanned, crossing her arms. "How are we related?"

JJ shot her a glare but cracked a smirk despite himself. "Shut up, MJ."

Kie, walking ahead, whipped her head around. "Why is she here?" she snapped, pointing at MJ. "This isn't her problem."

MJ's jaw clenched. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize John B and Sarah stopped being my friends when I nearly died. My bad, Kie."

"You chose this," Kie shot back, her voice laced with venom. "You slide into bed with a fucking psychopath."

"Are you seriously doing this right now?" JJ interjected, his voice sharp as he stepped between them. "MJ's been here the whole time, Kie. She didn't leave anyone. If anything, it's the other way around. You have never been the most accepting of her." 

Kie scoffed but didn't argue further, instead focusing on her phone as they walked toward the courtyard.

"I mean, is this even possible?" Kie asked after a moment, her voice softer. "Shoupe said they didn't make it. He said—"

"We don't know anything yet," Pope interrupted. "This could just be some twisted prank."

"It's not a prank," JJ muttered. His hands were shaking slightly, but he clenched them into fists to hide it. MJ noticed anyway, and without a word, she moved to stand beside him, shoulder to shoulder.

Her phone buzzed again. She checked the group chat and saw JJ had already replied to the unknown number: "Did you pimp my shortboard?"

The response came quickly, confirming their wildest hopes. It was him.

MJ let out a shaky laugh, leaning her head against JJ's shoulder as they both tried to process the impossible. "You can't kill a Pogue," JJ said, his voice quiet but resolute.

"Damn straight," MJ muttered, gripping his arm. Whatever came next, they'd face it together.

"Especially John B," MJ muttered, staring at the ground and wiping her face with the back of her hand. She didn't cry often—she didn't have time for it—but this hit differently.

"Hell yeah, we'll clear your name, JB!" JJ grinned, holding up his phone as if John B could see his excitement through the screen. He read aloud the message from John B, the one asking them to clear his name so he could come home.

"Be in touch, P4L," Kie finished reading, her voice thick with emotion as tears rolled down her cheeks.

MJ straightened up, her sharp eyes scanning the group. Relief flickered in her chest—John B and Sarah were alive. Against all odds, they'd made it. But that relief was quickly swallowed by determination.

"Alright, listen up," MJ said, clearing her throat. Her tone was firm, her jaw set. "I'm helping. We're bringing John B and Sarah home, and I'm gonna be part of this whether you like it or not. So, message me when there's a plan. I'll be there."

JJ and Pope exchanged a glance, but Kie just scoffed, her arms crossing tightly over her chest.

"You're leaving?" Pope asked, his brow furrowing as MJ turned to walk away.

MJ paused her back to them, before spinning on her heel. "Yeah, you guys should celebrate or whatever. You're still a family. Me? I'm just the odd one out these days, remember?" Her tone was biting, but the hurt beneath it was hard to miss.

"MJ, that's not—" Pope started, but she waved him off.

"Don't, Pope. You've been decent. Thanks for that," she said with a small, genuine smile. Her gaze flicked to JJ and Kie, who were hugging again, a picture-perfect image of camaraderie. "But watching them all buddy-buddy? Nah. Hard pass."

She turned on her heel again, hands stuffed in her jacket pockets as she headed for the exit. "Text me the details. I'm serious. Later."

JJ opened his mouth to call after her, but Pope shook his head, stopping him. "Let her go," he said quietly. "She'll be back. She always is."

And she would be—because no matter how fractured things felt, MJ wasn't the type to back down. Not when it came to the people she cared about.

As MJ disappeared through the door, JJ let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. His blue eyes darted toward Kie, who was busy wiping at her cheeks but still managing to look irritated.

"What's your problem?" JJ asked, leaning against the table, arms crossed.

"My problem?" Kie shot back, her brows furrowing. "She waltzes in like nothing happened like she didn't choose to leave—"

"Whoa, hold up," JJ interrupted, holding a hand up to stop her. His tone was sharp, matching the sudden tension between them. "First of all, she didn't choose anything. You know damn well she nearly overdosed and was all alone during it. Do you think I wanted my sister to find comfort from Rafe fucking Cameron? Over me?"

Kie huffed, crossing her arms. "She didn't have to stop talking to us."

"Stop talking to you, maybe," JJ shot back, his voice rising slightly. "She didn't stop talking to me or Pope. But you've been freezing her out since the second she got back. That's on you, Kie."

"That's not fair," Kie snapped, her voice faltering slightly as she looked away.

"No, what's not fair is you acting like she's some kind of traitor when all she's ever done is have our backs," JJ said, pointing a finger at her. "Do you even know how much she's been through? No, because you won't let her tell you. You're too busy being pissed off to listen."

"JJ—"

"No, Kie, I'm serious. She's my sister," he said firmly, his tone softening but still holding weight. "She's been through hell, and yeah, maybe she doesn't handle things the way you want her to, but that doesn't mean you get to treat her like garbage. You're better than that."

Kie blinked, taken aback by JJ's rare moment of seriousness.

"She's not the enemy, Kie," JJ added, his voice quiet but steady. "She wants to be here, to help, to make things right. So maybe give her a break and let her back in. For John B. For all of us."

Kie looked down at the ground, biting her lip. "I just... It's hard," she admitted softly.

"It's hard for her too," JJ replied, his gaze softening. "Just... think about it, okay?"

Kie nodded hesitantly, and JJ let out a small sigh of relief. "Good. Now, can we focus on the fact that John B and Sarah are alive? Because, damn, I'm still processing that."

Kie cracked a small, tentative smile. "Yeah... yeah, let's focus on that."

JJ gave her a nod before leaning back against the table, but his mind lingered on MJ. He'd always have her back, no matter what—and if he had to knock some sense into people along the way, so be it.

────

Later that evening, MJ's phone buzzed as she sat on the porch, absently tossing pebbles into the darkened yard. It was a message from Kie.

Kie: Hey... can we talk?

MJ stared at the text for a moment, her finger hovering over the screen. She wasn't sure what to expect, but she knew Kie had been pissed off at her for a while. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, this was a chance for things to be... different.

MJ: Yeah, I'm free. Where?

Kie: The pier. Ten minutes.

MJ's heart thudded in her chest. She knew the pier was Kie's spot—her way of getting away from everything. MJ didn't have a "spot" like that, but she figured Kie probably felt comfortable there, so it was as good a place as any.

When MJ arrived, Kie was already sitting on the edge of the dock, her legs dangling over the side. The air was thick with the smell of saltwater, and the sound of waves lapping against the pier was oddly calming.

"Hey," MJ said quietly, approaching cautiously. Kie didn't look up at first.

"Hey," Kie replied, her voice flat, though there was a slight crack to it.

MJ hesitated, unsure of what to say next. They had never really done this—talked about the real stuff. The stuff that mattered. But maybe it was time to start.

"I don't know how to fix this, Kie," MJ started, her voice rough as she sat down beside her. "But I want to."

Kie let out a soft, breathy laugh that didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah, well, it's not that easy, is it?" She met MJ's gaze then, her eyes soft but full of something MJ couldn't place. "You weren't exactly the easiest person to deal with, either."

MJ felt the sting of the words, but she didn't back down. "I know. I've been a mess. I get it."

Kie nodded slowly, then looked out at the water again. "You're right. You were a mess. You still are." She paused, glancing at MJ. "But that's not even the worst part. The worst part is that you just... never felt like you wanted to be here. With us. I thought we were your friends, but it always felt like we were just... the people who hung around because you were JJ's twin. Not because you cared."

MJ swallowed hard, feeling the truth of Kie's words hit her like a slap to the face. She had never really thought about it like that. Maybe it was because, deep down, she didn't feel like she belonged in their world. She was different. Always had been. "I didn't know how to... fit in," she said softly. "I didn't feel like I had a place with you guys. I still don't."

Kie's expression softened a little. "Why didn't you just say something?"

MJ shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Because every time I tried to talk to you, you'd shut me down. Or you'd make me feel like I was some outsider. You weren't the only one who felt like I didn't belong, Kie. I felt like that every single day." She paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. "And then there was Rafe..."

Kie raised an eyebrow. "What about Rafe?"

MJ turned to face her, her heart pounding. "I know you think he's... bad. And he is, Kie. He is. I see it. I see how much he's messed up. But you don't know the whole picture. You don't know the side of him that cares about me. The side of him that... wants to protect me."

Kie stared at her for a long time, searching her face like she was trying to figure out if MJ was serious. "You're telling me you trust him? After everything he's done? After all the shit he's put people through?"

MJ's voice wavered, but she pushed forward. "I don't trust him, not completely. But sometimes... sometimes I think he's the only one who gets me. He's been there for me, Kie. He's been the only one who's seen the stuff I'm going through and not judged me for it. Not really. He has this... other side to him. A side no one else sees."

Kie was quiet for a long time, her eyes still searching MJ's face like she was looking for something. Anything that might show her MJ was making a huge mistake.

"You're telling me that after everything, you think he's good for you?" Kie asked quietly.

"I don't know if I'd say good," MJ replied, her voice fragile. "But I think... I think I'm the only one who can see the parts of him that are still human. The parts that aren't... the monster everyone thinks he is."

Kie's eyes softened, but there was still something like pity in them. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, MJ. Rafe is poison. I don't want to see you get hurt by him."

MJ looked down at her hands, letting out a shaky breath. "I don't know how to stop, Kie. He's all I've got. And sometimes... sometimes I think maybe I'm the only one who can save him."

Kie didn't respond for a long time, the silence between them heavy. When she finally spoke, her voice was softer. "I don't know, MJ. I just... I want you to be okay. I want you to stop thinking that you have to fix everyone else before fixing yourself. Because you're not okay. And I need you to see that."

MJ nodded the weight of her words settling in her chest. "I know. I just don't know where to start."

Kie didn't say anything else, but she placed a hand on MJ's shoulder, offering her a small, understanding smile. "We'll figure it out. But you've got to start letting people in. Even if it's just me, okay?"

MJ nodded again, her throat tight. It was a small step, but it was something.

MJ lit the joint, the flame from the lighter flickering in the dim light of the pier. She took a slow drag, feeling the smoke fill her lungs before she exhaled, letting it drift into the night air. After a moment, she held it out to Kie, who hesitated but then took it from her with a small shrug.

"You know this is a terrible idea, right?" Kie said, half-smiling as she took a hit. She didn't seem totally against it, but she was cautious.

MJ smirked. "You said you wanted to talk. And I didn't say it was a good idea." She took another puff and passed it back to Kie. The smoke swirled around them like a cloud, catching the dim light of the stars above.

They sat there for a few minutes, the quiet settling in between them as they smoked. Kie let out a small giggle, the tension in her body loosening slightly. "You know, Rafe reminds me of Klaus Mikaelson. Like, really reminds me of him."

MJ almost choked on her breath, sputtering out a laugh. "A psychopath who thinks the world owes him everything? Yeah, I see it." She took another drag of the joint and then passed it back to Kie. "I mean, psychopaths are hot, you know?"

Kie looked at her, eyebrows raised. "You're not wrong. There's something about that... dangerous vibe. Like, you just know they'll make things interesting." She took another hit from the joint, her face scrunching up a little from the smoke.

MJ leaned back, letting the smoke drift from her lips in a slow exhale. "Honestly, if Rafe wasn't so fucking psychotic, I wouldn't be so goddamn upset about everything." Her voice was low, almost bitter, but she wasn't sure if it was because of Rafe or because of everything that had gone down. "He makes everything complicated. But damn, he knows how to pull you in."

Kie, her eyes a little glassy from the weed, nodded slowly. "I mean, I get it. He's hot. But he's... insane. Like, what's the point of being that hot if you're a total fucking mess?" She exhaled a cloud of smoke and passed the joint back. "Still, I get why you're... I don't know, pulled toward him."

MJ let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah, I guess he's hot. Like, too hot for his own good." She ran her fingers through her hair, her thoughts a little cloudy but her feelings a tangled mess. "But it's not just about how he looks, Kie. It's about... how he is. Like, he gets me in a way no one else does. And yeah, he's a fucking mess, but so am I. And sometimes I wonder if that's just how it is, you know?"

Kie took another drag, letting the silence settle in before she spoke again. "Yeah, well... I can't lie. I get why you're into him. It's just... scary. You're better than this, MJ. You deserve more than the chaos he brings."

MJ exhaled a long, slow breath, the smoke swirling around her face as she thought about Kie's words. She knew she deserved more, but she couldn't deny that the pull Rafe had on her was undeniable. She wasn't sure what that meant for her, or where it would lead, but she did know that it wasn't something she could easily walk away from. Not yet.

MJ leaned back against the weathered railing, looking out at the dark water beneath them, her fingers still loosely holding onto the joint. She took a long drag before speaking, her voice softer now, like she was speaking more to herself than to Kie.

"You don't get it, though," she said quietly. "Rafe... he does these little things that get to me. Like, when he thought I was gonna fall, he literally caught me before I could hit the ground. And it wasn't like he had to, but he did. He just—he watches." She exhaled slowly like the smoke might carry away some of the weight of her words. "And there's the way he looks at me sometimes. Like he sees something in me I don't even know is there."

Kie raised an eyebrow, her voice tinged with curiosity. "That's the Rafe you're talking about? Not the psycho, not the one who's constantly stirring up shit?"

MJ gave a dry laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah, I guess it's hard to see him like that, huh? But that's the thing... he's not all bad. I know he has issues—shit, he has a lot of issues. But every now and then, he shows this side of him, and it's like... a different person. It's not all anger or threats. It's care. He's been there for me, Kie, in ways no one else has been. I don't know if it's because he's messed up or if there's something else, but I can't just ignore it."

Kie was quiet for a moment, taking in MJ's words. She seemed to be processing it, her eyes softening a little. "I get it now," Kie said, her voice quieter than usual. "You don't just see the mess. You see the person under all of it. The one who actually gives a damn. I didn't get that before. But... now I do."

MJ looked at her, surprised by the genuine understanding in Kie's eyes. It felt strange to have someone acknowledge it in such a real way. She hadn't expected Kie to get it, especially after everything that had happened between them. But now, there was something in Kie's gaze that made her feel less crazy, less alone in her conflicted feelings.

"Yeah," MJ muttered, a small, almost reluctant smile tugging at her lips. "It's messed up, but yeah."

Kie shook her head, a small laugh escaping her. "I guess we all have our own brand of messed up." She looked at MJ, her expression soft but serious. "Just... be careful, okay? I get why he pulls you in, but don't let him drag you too far into his chaos. You deserve more than that."

MJ nodded slowly, taking another drag of the joint. "I know. I'm trying to figure it out. But right now, it's hard to stay away." She leaned her head back, looking up at the stars. "It's like he gets under my skin in a way I can't shake."

Kie sighed, letting the silence stretch out between them. It wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't as tense as it had been before. The weight of everything that had happened seemed a little lighter for the first time in a long while. 

────

Later, the night had deepened, and the air around the wreck had grown colder, the salty breeze biting at their skin. The smell of all the fresh cooking food made their stomachs grumble. 

JJ and MJ were bickering as usual, the familiar rhythm of their sibling rivalry hanging in the air.

"God, you're always so dramatic," MJ scoffed, rolling her eyes as she nudged her twin with her elbow. "I swear, you could turn the simplest thing into a soap opera."

JJ shot her a look, his face twisting in mock offence. "Says the one who once started crying over a stupid lost necklace and nearly set the house on fire. If I'm dramatic, you're, like, an emotional wreck waiting to happen."

MJ smirked, tapping his shoulder with the back of her hand. "Yeah, well, I have depth. You're just a one-man circus act."

"Hey, who else is gonna keep you entertained, huh?" JJ teased, his grin growing wider. "No one else can put up with your crap the way I do. It's a service to humanity."

"Whatever. I'd survive without your sarcastic commentary," MJ shot back, but her grin was just as wide. She nudged him again, this time a little harder, making him stumble. "But you're lucky you're my twin, or I'd probably have tossed you into the water by now."

"Oh, yeah, you'd try," JJ laughed, his voice full of that same playful energy. "But we both know I'm the only one who can take you down, sis."

"You wish," MJ smirked, arching an eyebrow as she gave him a sidelong glance. "I'd have you begging for mercy within five seconds."

"You're delusional," he shot back with a fake scoff, but his eyes were sparkling with mischief.

"So, are we going to the Bahamas or what?" JJ asked, his tone cocky, but there was a hint of hope behind it.

MJ rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're really stuck on that, huh? There's no way we're going to the Bahamas, JJ. We can barely get out of this mess."

Pope shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "Even if we had tickets, how the hell are we clearing John B's name? We need a real plan."

Kie folded her arms, glancing around at the group. "John B will get caught eventually. If we're gonna clear his name, we should've done it yesterday."

MJ leaned back against the wreck, biting her lip as her mind raced. She hated feeling helpless, but this situation was bigger than any of them.

"Yeah, well, we can't just sit around. We need to do something now," she said, her voice tight, but with a hint of frustration. Her eyes flicked over to JJ, waiting for him to step up with something—anything.

JJ stood up, wearing his usual cocky grin. "Alright, hear me out. I've got a plan."

"Oh, God," Kie muttered, rolling her eyes.

"You guys are gonna love this," JJ continued, pacing in front of them like he was about to reveal the best-kept secret of the century. "We kidnap Rafe."

Everyone froze. Silence hung in the air for a beat too long before MJ exploded.

"What the hell did you just say?" MJ snapped, her eyes narrowing. "Kidnap Rafe? Are you out of your mind?"

JJ shrugged, completely unfazed by her outburst. "It's simple. We tie him up, stick a gun in his face, and get him to talk. Straightforward."

Kie was the first to respond, her eyes wide in disbelief. "You're seriously suggesting we kidnap him? Are you crazy?"

MJ shot Kie a sharp look. "You don't get it, Kie. We're not just kidnapping someone for fun. Rafe is..." She paused, biting back whatever else she wanted to say. She had been feeling defensive lately, especially when it came to Rafe. He might be a psycho, but he wasn't just some monster.

"Rafe is what?" Kie challenged, arching an eyebrow. "A saint?"

MJ's jaw clenched. "No, but he's not what you think. He's... I don't know, okay? There's more to him than you all see. He's been there for me."

Kie folded her arms, her tone softening, though still skeptical. "And what, you think that makes him a good guy? He's not. You know what he did, MJ."

MJ bit her lip, her nerves tightening. "I know," she said quietly, feeling the weight of it. "But there's this... other side to him. You wouldn't get it."

Kie frowned. "And you think kidnapping him is the way to get what we need?"

"No," MJ snapped, frustration leaking into her voice. "I'm not saying we should do that. But we can't just keep going around like we have no options." She pushed a hand through her hair, the weight of everything starting to catch up with her. She hated the way her heart raced when Rafe's name came up. Hated that she couldn't just brush him off like everyone else could.

Kie sighed, rubbing her temples. "Alright, then what's your idea?"

"I don't know -"

"Find someone who saw what happened that night,"  Kie said, "Find someone who was there when Peterkin was killed. They could've seen something, something that can clear John B's name. We don't need to get our hands dirty like that."

As Kie said the words, her stomach twisted. The idea of finding someone who could corroborate their story... wasn't as easy as it sounded. MJ was there -if someone turned them in—things could get way worse than they already were. She wasn't ready for that. She wasn't ready for everything to fall apart.

Mj raised an eyebrow, "You really think someone's going to come forward with that kind of information?"

 The nerves in her gut were starting to gnaw at her again. If they found the wrong person, if they weren't careful, everything could go south. The idea of involving the sheriff—of dragging Rafe into it—felt like a bad idea. But she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that they were getting closer to something, even if it terrified her.

"I just... I don't want anyone getting hurt," MJ admitted, her voice softer now, almost vulnerable.

Kie studied her for a moment, her expression softening slightly. "I get it. But we have to be careful. This is bigger than just John B."

JJ smirked, clearly not as worried as the rest of them. "Alright, then. Let's find that witness, and let's not get caught." He shot MJ a wink.

MJ didn't respond right away, her mind still racing. She just hoped they were ready for whatever they were about to dig up. Because once they got wind of this secret... it could be over for all of them.

"You know, torture is a war crime," Kie pointed out with a raised eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

"Yeah, well, so is kidnapping, but here we are," MJ shot back, arms crossed as she leaned against the wreck. She wasn't about to let them drag her into some dumb plan without a fight.

Pope looked at the two, clearly skeptical. "How do you plan on clearing John B's name from a prison cell, though? That's still a felony."

JJ shrugged, unfazed. "Alright, what do you get then, Pope? Because I was just trying to keep it simple. One stop and we're done."

MJ rolled her eyes, glancing at her twin. "Yeah, because that's always worked out so well for you."

Pope sighed and threw his hands up in the air. "Guys, we don't need to make it this complicated. We just need a material witness. We saw Ward's plane fly over us with the gold inside. Someone else was flying it. They saw Peterkin get killed. We just have to find them and get them to talk."

"Gold?" MJ raised an eyebrow, looking over at JJ. She hadn't realized that gold was part of the equation. She'd been so focused on clearing John B's name that she missed a lot of the details.

JJ shrugged. "Didn't mention that part, huh?"

"Guess not." MJ shook her head. "But wait, Pope, you're saying someone else was flying that plane? And they were right there when Peterkin died?"

"Exactly," Pope replied, clearly pleased that someone was paying attention. "We find them, get them to talk, and boom, we've got the evidence we need to clear John B."

MJ let out a low whistle. "Alright, so how do we find this mystery person, huh? You don't just walk up to random people and ask if they saw a murder."

"Easy," Pope said, a grin spreading on his face. "A little light espionage."

"A little ghost recon," JJ added, putting his hat back on and adjusting it with a smirk.

"Woogity-woogity?" MJ asked with a sly grin, mimicking JJ's trademark goofy phrase. She couldn't help it, the energy between the group was starting to feel familiar again, even if the situation was anything but lighthearted.

"Woogity, baby," JJ responded, beaming back at her.

MJ just snorted and rolled her eyes. "God, you're such an idiot, JJ."

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it," he said, giving her an exaggerated wink.

MJ crossed her arms, clearly unamused. "Yeah, no thanks. You might have a better shot if you didn't talk like that every five seconds."

Pope looked at the group, his expression serious. "Alright, so we're all in agreement then? We find the witness. We get them to talk. We clear John B's name. Simple."

MJ raised an eyebrow at Pope. "Simple? Nothing about this is simple, Pope. But sure, let's pretend it is."

JJ flashed a grin at her, clearly relieved to have his twin back in the mix. "You know, I missed you being a sarcastic pain in the ass, M."

"Yeah, I'm sure you did," MJ muttered, but the smirk tugging at her lips said otherwise. Even if she didn't always agree with his plans, having JJ by her side felt like one thing that hadn't changed in the mess of their lives.

"Alright," Pope said, clapping his hands together. "Let's get to work, then."

MJ shot him a look. "Yeah, yeah, I'm already working on my list of things that could go wrong. Trust me, this isn't over by a long shot."

────

MJ sat in the chair across from Sandra, her caseworker, arms crossed but noticeably more at ease than in their previous meetings. The office was quiet, the faint hum of a coffee machine filling the space. Sandra adjusted her glasses, glancing over a folder with a faint smile.

"Well," Sandra said, setting the folder down, "I haven't received a phone call about you yet, and I have to say, MJ, I'm impressed."

MJ raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Is that your way of saying I haven't totally screwed up?"

Sandra chuckled softly. "That's one way to put it. But seriously—you've done a lot of good lately. No fights, no failed drug tests, no run-ins with the police. Your teachers have had nothing but positive things to say about how you've been holding it together."

MJ shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but there was a flicker of pride in her eyes. "Yeah, well, I'm trying. For JJ."

Sandra leaned forward, clasping her hands together. "And that's exactly why I wanted to meet with you today. You've been doing well, MJ, but I need you to understand something. Just because things have been calm doesn't mean we can let our guard down."

MJ's expression hardened slightly. "I know. Believe me, I'm not about to go back to how things were."

"I'm glad to hear that," Sandra said sincerely. "But I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't remind you how fragile this all is. If something were to happen—if you slipped up, even once—it wouldn't just affect you. JJ's placement is still tied to yours. If you get into trouble, the court could decide that both of you need to be placed into a foster house and there's no guarantee you'd end up in the same home."

MJ's jaw tightened, her fingers gripping the edge of her chair. "I've been keeping my nose clean, Sandra. I'm not gonna mess this up."

"I believe you," Sandra said gently. "But the system doesn't just look at your present behaviour. They look at patterns. And your history—it's not exactly working in your favour. One mistake, MJ, and everything you've worked for could come crashing down."

MJ slumped back in her chair, frustration flashing across her face. "It's not fair. I've been doing everything right, but it feels like everyone's just waiting for me to fail."

Sandra's gaze softened. "I know it feels that way. And you're right—it's not fair. But you have people rooting for you, MJ. We all see the effort you're putting in, and it matters. You matter."

MJ looked away, her throat tightening. She hated this—hated feeling vulnerable, hated the way Sandra's words struck a chord she didn't want to acknowledge. "I'm not doing it for me," she muttered. "I'm doing it for JJ. He doesn't deserve to get dragged into this mess because of me."

Sandra nodded. "And that's exactly why you're going to keep making good choices. For him, but also for yourself. You've proven that you can stay out of trouble, MJ. Now you just have to keep proving it."

MJ rubbed her hands over her jeans, her mind racing. "So, what now? Do I just keep pretending everything's fine, even when it's not? People still treat me like I'm some kind of screw-up."

"You don't have to pretend," Sandra said softly. "But you do have to stay strong. If people doubt you, let them. Prove them wrong with your actions, not your words. And if it gets too heavy, lean on the people who care about you. You don't have to do this alone."

MJ hesitated, then gave a small nod. "I'll try. But only because JJ would lose his mind if we got separated."

Sandra smiled. "Whatever your reasons, MJ, just keep going. You're stronger than you think, and you've already come so far."

MJ stood up, stuffing her hands in her pockets. "Yeah, well, let's hope it's enough."

Sandra sighed heavily, folding her hands on the desk as she fixed MJ with a steady gaze. "I want to be honest with you, MJ. You've made progress—real progress—and I'm proud of that. But there's something you need to be aware of." She hesitated, her expression softening, as if she were about to deliver a blow she didn't want to land.

MJ frowned, leaning forward slightly. "What is it?" Her voice was cautious, guarded.

Sandra exhaled, her fingers tapping against the desk. "The charges related to Zaza's case were dropped, yes. But her family isn't letting it go. They've hired a private investigator to dig deeper."

MJ froze, her heart slamming against her ribcage. "What?" she breathed.

Sandra nodded grimly. "They're looking into every detail. And if that investigator uncovers anything about the fire two years ago—the arson charge—things could get serious. Very serious. The statute of limitations hasn't run out, MJ. If they connect you to that incident and decide to push for charges, you could be tried as an adult."

The words hit MJ like a sledgehammer, and she felt the blood drain from her face. Her mind raced back to that night—the flames, the smoke, the sheer panic. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady. "But... that was sealed, wasn't it? A juvenile record, right? They can't just use it against me."

Sandra's gaze didn't waver. "Juvenile records are sealed under normal circumstances, yes. But if they can make a case for it—if they argue that the fire resulted in deaths or serious injury—those protections might not apply. MJ, this isn't just about your past. It's about how your actions are being perceived now. The system is watching you."

MJ leaned back, her hands trembling slightly as she rubbed them over her face. "I didn't mean for any of it to happen," she muttered, her voice cracking. "The fire... it wasn't supposed to get out of control. And with Zaza... I didn't even—"

Sandra cut her off gently but firmly. "I believe you, MJ. But belief isn't enough in situations like this. It's about evidence and perception. And right now, the Zaza family is grieving and angry. They want someone to blame. If this PI finds anything that connects you to that fire or paints you as dangerous... it won't matter how much you've changed. They'll see you as a threat."

MJ's jaw tightened, and she shook her head. "That's not fair. I've been staying out of trouble, doing everything you said. They can't just drag me back into something I've already paid for!"

"I know it's unfair," Sandra said softly. "But this is the reality of the situation. And this is why I've been so adamant about you staying on the straight and narrow. Because if you get into even the smallest bit of trouble, they'll use it to strengthen their case against you."

MJ clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white. "So what? I just have to live my life walking on eggshells forever? Waiting for someone to come along and ruin everything?"

"No," Sandra said firmly. "You don't have to live in fear, but you do have to be careful. Every choice you make from here on out matters. You've come so far, MJ. Don't let your past define your future."

MJ looked down, her throat tight. "What am I supposed to do if they come after me? If they find something?"

Sandra's expression softened, and she reached across the desk, resting a hand on the file. "If that happens, MJ, we'll fight. You're not alone in this. But you need to stay out of trouble, and you need to keep proving to everyone—especially yourself—that you're not that person anymore. You're stronger than your mistakes. You've shown that. Now it's about showing the rest of the world."

MJ nodded slowly, her mind a whirlwind of fear and determination. "Okay," she said quietly. "I'll do what I have to. For JJ. For both of us."

Sandra gave her a small, encouraging smile. "Good. I'm here to help you, MJ. But you have to meet me halfway. Deal?"

MJ lifted her chin, her resolve hardening. "Deal."

But as she left Sandra's office, the weight of her past pressed against her chest like a stone. For the first time in months, MJ felt the cracks in the fragile stability she'd built, and she knew one wrong move could bring it all crashing down. 

────

authors note:

stop because I'm so excited for 

this season I'm just about posting

 it all in one week. 10 comments and 

I'll post the next three chapters 

(and start writing smut).