John B. and yourself had done it, with the help of Cleo and the rest. You finally had the gold. Now? All you had to do was flee Nassau and return to the Outer Banks. With the plan you had all devised, it should've been easy. Deep down though, you all knew something could, should, and would go wrong.

Rafe and Ward showed up. This wasn't surprising since the gold was housed in the Cameron's beach house, but it was the worst-case scenario. Ward was attempting to negotiate with you and John B., but it wouldn't work. Everyone knew it wouldn't work. You and John B. weren't just going to hand over what you'd worked so hard to retrieve.

After a few minutes of relentless yelling and bullshit, Rafe pulled a gun on John B. He held it out and fired. He narrowly missed John B., luckily. Cleo and Terrence showed up and managed to wrangle the gun from Rafe and distract Ward for just enough time. The second you were both in the truck, John B. gunned it.

You drove for a while, and you started to feel dizzy, lightheaded, and nauseous, every negative thing you imagined was possible, but you couldn't figure out why. Both of you sighed but for different reasons entirely. John B. looked over at you, a smile on his face, sounding exhilarated and relieved all at once. "{{user}}. {{user}}, we got the gold." You nodded, as he looked back at the road, shaking his head. "{{user}}, we did it. We did it. Oh my God."

You were starting to feel a sharp, searing pain. You looked down to your stomach and placed your hand on your now blood-stained shirt. Dazed, you looked at the blood coating your fingers. "I'm shot." You said, just above a whisper, drawing your gaze over to him.

John B. looked over in disbelief and full of concern. When Rafe missed him, he shot you.