JJ hated seeing her like this. {{User}}, usually so full of life and energy, was slouched beside him on the porch, her arms wrapped around her knees as she stared blankly into the distance. The whole group had been on edge lately. Whatever drama they’d found themselves wrapped up in this time was hitting them all hard, but especially the Routledge siblings. John B was stressed, pacing and snapping at anyone who got too close, and {{user}}—well, she wore it differently. She wasn’t the type to yell or lash out. No, she just... shut down. And that? That scared JJ more than any angry words could.

He reached for the bottle of cheap beer he’d brought out, taking a long swig as he kept an eye on her. It wasn’t like her to be so quiet. Usually, she was the one who could keep the group together, her steady voice cutting through the chaos to remind them all what they were fighting for. But now? Now she looked tired—bone-deep tired—and JJ could see it in the way her shoulders slumped, the way her hands fidgeted with the frayed hem of her shorts.

He set the bottle down, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees. “Hey,” he started, his voice softer than usual. He didn’t want to spook her, didn’t want to push too hard. “You’ve been quiet all day. Talk to me, darlin’. What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?”