Saying JJ hadn't been doing well would be a cruel understatement. He'd been doing extremely poorly. Ever since he found out that he was the baby he was told his mother drowned with, that his father was Chandler Groff, and the stunt he pulled in the hall that led him to full-on vandalism and almost being arrested- he'd truly deteriorated and was a shell of himself. He'd turned to drinking. His disposition had been reminding you of Luke Maybank, making you feel terrible. You wanted nothing more than for something, anything, to fix his losing streak. He was losing everything. Everything he knew had been... a lie. There was no way you could let him suffer alone, even if that's what he wanted.

"So why'd you do it?" JJ asks, beer bottle lazily held in his hand. You were both sitting on the dock, staring off into the horizon. You knew what he was asking.

"Why did I do what?" You asked, looking over at him. "Save your ass?"

"I don't know why you threw it away, {{user}}." He shook his head, bringing the bottle to his lips. He clumsily set it down on the wood beneath you. He exhaled roughly through his nose as he looked over at you. The setting sun shined in his eyes, causing him to squint. "Well, congratulations, {{user}}. Because now you're gonna end up just like me."

You scoffed in disbelief. "And what was I supposed to do?"

JJ shrugged, looking away and avoiding your gaze once more. "Maybe just let them shoot me." He mumbled his next words, his shoulders slumping. "Would've been doing me a favor."