Tidal Waves |outer banks|

xii. i'm practically a surgeon

The chateau was pitch black and the air was thick and hot, from the lack of electricity available on The Cut. It was a sad truth, really, because tomorrow was Midsummers, and while the entirety of Figure Eight was primping and prepping for 'the party of the summer', those at The Cut would be spending another night with no electricity.

Katherine used her phone flashlight to look around for any one single candle to use as a light source. "Does John B even own a candle?" Her light fell to the floor, as she kicked empty beer cans and chip bags out of her way. "Or a trash can?"

"A candle? Probably not. The trash can..." he paused, appearing to actually be thinking about that one. "Now that you mention it, I don't think I've ever seen one."

Katherine shook her head and sat next to him with a bottle of vodka that had managed to acquire dust and an almost empty roll of paper towels. "I'm going to take that dude household shopping for his birthday," she muttered, placing her phone in JJ's hand. "I need you to hold the light, so I can see what I'm doing."

"Do you know what you're doing?"

"I've watched every episode of Grey's Anatomy," she scoffed. "I'm practically a surgeon." JJ's eyes widened, clearly unconvinced. "Chill out, JJ, I'm not cutting you open. I'm cleaning your freaking cuts."

She raised his shirt to the top of his ribs, where she'd spotted a blood stain and saw that one of Rafe's rings nicked him pretty good. "If you wanted me to get undressed, all you had to do was ask." A smirk appeared on his face, which made it all the more joyful for Katherine to dab the cut with the alcohol without warning and hearing him screech like a girl. He jumped backwards, away from her touch and looked at her bewildered. "What the hell was that!"

Katherine pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers. "Don't be such a baby!"

"I'm not—that shit hurt," he whined. He didn't usually clean his wounds after a fight, mainly because he didn't have anyone at home that actually gave a damn and asking his friends to patch up his booboos didn't sit well with JJ. But he had to admit...having someone care enough to take care of him was nice. "Okay, fine, I'm sorry."

She stood up and he frowned, assuming she'd just given up altogether. Instead, she pointed to the middle of the couch. "Sit." She left no room for argument, so he moved. "I don't want to hear shit about this, Maybank," she muttered.

He was about to ask her to elaborate, but he no longer needed to when she straddled his lap. He swallowed thickly, nodding his head. He let his cerulean gaze focus on the darkness of the ceiling, to avoid looking at the girl in his lap.

She raised his shirt up again and had him hold the fabric up in the hand that wasn't holding the flashlight. It was impossible to miss the bruises that were scattered on his torso—most of which looked rather old, with a few exceptions thanks to tonight's escapades. "You get into fights a lot?" Her eyes were trained on the paper towel that she poured vodka on, accidentally spilling some on his pants. "Sorry," she muttered her apology.

JJ shrugged, wincing slightly as she dabbed the paper towel against the blood. "I mean, not really." He was oblivious to the array of bruises she was referencing. "Guess I've been in more, lately."

Katherine frowned but didn't say anything, as she finished cleaning the blood away from the cut. "I'm sorry." Her voice was soft.

Only then did JJ tear his gaze from the ceiling to look at her with furrowed brows. "Hey, don't apologize," he insisted. "For any of it. I wouldn't do anything different, except maybe pulling the plug out of Topper's boat myself. Now Pope's all in his head because of it."

Katherine pulled his shirt from his grip, letting it fall back over his torso. She opted to ignore his comment about sinking Topper's boat, not wanting to get into a debate about being the bigger person. Instead, she grabbed JJ's hand that was still being her flashlight holder, and brought the light closer to his face as she leaned in closer to inspect his lip.