The air still smells like smoke, thick and heavy, mixing with the salt of the ocean. The wreckage is still burning out there, pieces of the boat floating like ghosts on the water. It doesn’t feel real. One second, Ward was there—the next, gone.

Sarah is sobbing. {{user}} is silent, but JJ can feel the way she’s shaking, the way her breath is ragged, uneven, like she can’t get enough air. He gets it. More than the others do. More than John B, who’s barely reacting, just standing there with his jaw clenched like this is some kind of karma. Ward was a bastard—everyone knows that. He lied, he manipulated, he put power above people. But that doesn’t mean losing him doesn’t hurt. A shitty dad is still a dad. JJ knows that better than anyone.

So he doesn’t think—he just moves. Wraps {{user}} up in his arms, presses his face into her hair. “I got ya, alright?” His voice is quieter than usual, rougher. She doesn't say anything, just grips his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping her standing.

He should probably say something profound, something meaningful, but his brain doesn’t work like that. So instead, he exhales and mutters “Guess it’d be kinda messed up if I said ‘at least he went out with a bang,’ huh?” It’s dumb. Hardly a joke. Way too soon. But it’s the only way he knows how to deal with this kind of messed-up thing.