Outer Banks Imagines

Froze | JJ Maybank

Word Count: 2.5 K

"JJ!" I call, walking into the house. I shut the door behind me, carefully making my way through the clutter. I hate coming into his house, but I don't show him that. He can't help his dad is a piece of shit.

John B, Kie and Pope are waiting in the van and sent me inside to get JJ. We're headed out onto the water to go swim and hangout, all be together, and JJ wasn't answering his phone, so we decided to stop by and see if he's okay and rope him into coming with us. The group agreed that he listens to me most, so they sent me in despite me telling them I wasn't comfortable with it.

"JJ!" I call again, stepping over a pile of dirty clothes in the hallway and making my way to his room. I push open the door and see he's passed out on the bed. I gasp at the state of his body, my breath catching in my throat.

His body is covered in bruises. Like, they're everywhere. I've seen what his dad has done to him before, but it's never been this bad. He has a black eye, and his hand has dried blood smeared all over it. His stomach and ribs are littered with more bruises that are black, blue, and even that greenish-yellow that they turn when they're heading. The sight of him like this terrifies me. It's never been this bad. Why didn't he tell us? Why didn't he tell me?

I make my way slowly over to the bed, gently touching his hair. JJ makes a soft noise and slightly shifts, leaning his head into my touch.

"JJ. JJ, you gotta wake up. We gotta go." I whisper, stroking his soft hair.

"No. No go." He mumbles sleepily, reaching up and grabbing me quickly before pulling me into his body. It happens so quickly that he catches me off guard, and I can't resist. I gently press against his chest, trying to get away, afraid I'm hurting him, but his hold on me is like steel.

"JJ, come on."

He shakes his head. "Sleep, Y/N, sleep." He whispers, pushing the back of my head until it comes to rest on his chest. So he's obviously not asleep anymore since he knows my voice.

"Am I hurting you?" I whisper anxiously, not being able to relax unless I know he's not in any pain.

He opens one eye slightly to look at me. "What do you mean, are you hurting me? Of course not. You're light as a feather." I roll my eyes and try to escape his grip again, but he won't let up.

"I saw the bruises, JJ. Why didn't you tell me?"

He ducks his head, burying his face against my neck and his voice is muffled as he speaks. "I'm fine, don't worry about it. Can't even feel them." He's trying to make me feel better, but I can hear the bitterness in his voice, the anger directed at his father, and I can't stand it.

I sit up, and this time he lets me go. I climb off the bed and hold out my hand to him. "Come on, let's go. We're gonna get some ice on there," he opens his mouth to protest, but I cut him off, "and you're going to do it because I worry about you and it will make me feel better." He nods reluctantly. "And then we're gonna go out and swim and hangout and get drunk and high. Sound good?" He nods, taking my hand, and lets me pull him up.

We sit on the couch for fifteen minutes, me holding an ice pack to each of the bruises and cleaning his hand while he complains about the cold. "Please, JJ, just keep it on there." I beg. He must see the worry in my eyes, because he shuts his mouth and lays his head back, closing his eyes.

We finally head out to the van, JJ with his weed, and we head back to the chateau.

. . . . .

"Hey, Y/N?" I lift my head from where I'm talking to Kie to look at JJ, who called me. He motions me over and I look to Kie, wondering if she's okay with it. "Go." She tells me, waving me off with a smile.