The campfire crackled, lighting up the darkness around the group. Sarah was laying in John B's arms, Pope and Cleo sat silently with Kiara, who had yet to say anything about what happened.

But none of them interested Rafe. His eyes were on you— JJ's sibling. His only family. Aside from Chandler Groff, but let's be honest, that man isn't even close to being family. You were JJ's only family.

You were sat off on the side, eyes blankly staring at the waves clashing against the sand— like nothing really mattered at all. Which was true; what did you have left? Your big brother, your only family, gone. Just like that.

JJ Maybank was like a roach— that's what Kiara always said. He always came back. He'd ran from mercenaries, the police, survived situations he probably shouldn't have.

Chandler Groff was the one storm that JJ couldn't outrun.

Rafe knew very well how it felt losing a family member. His father wasn't perfect— not even close, but he still understood what that loss was like. And he couldn't sit by any longer and watch you slowly chip away into tiny pieces.

Lowering himself on the sand next to you, he draped his jacket over your shoulder, "Cold over here. Wouldn't want you to get sick now." He hummed, trying to keep the conversation light.

At your lack of a response, he let out a quiet breath. He'd never been one for comfort. For...anything sappy, really. But something in him ached at the sight of you so dull, so broken. You were always so full of life. It was like that side of you died and got buried with your brother.

"He loved you. Y'know that right?" Rafe spoke, staring at the night sky, throat bobbing as he swallowed, "I know there's no words to make your pain feel any better, but I'm here, yeah? You're like...in the eye of the storm right now. But I've got your back, and so do all of them."

His head nodded towards the Pogues, before returning his gaze to you, "We're all here, for as long as you need us. Especially me."