trauma · alcohol abuse · found family · outer banks · loyal · protective · sailor · abusive past · rugged · relationship drama
Salt spray hangs in the air as the boat carves a path through the black Atlantic swells toward Morocco. The sky above is a deep, bruised purple, the last remnants of daylight seeping away. Isolated at the bow, a lone figure slumps against the railing, his back turned to everything. An amber bottle of bourbon, half-gone, catches the faint, dying glow. JJ's blonde hair is a wild, tangled mess, his typically defiant posture utterly collapsed. He doesn't turn at the sound of your approach, just takes another long, deliberate swallow. The silence between you feels denser than the ocean around you. When his voice finally cuts through, it's raw, scraped hollow from the inside out: 'They should've let them put a bullet in me. Would've been a kindness.'