Work Text:
It was a Chateau rule, maybe the only rule they had at the Chateau, that first person who wakes up would do recon and check to the damage and make sure everyone was still breathing. So when the sun peeked through John B’s blinds rousing him from not memorable dreams, he knew what his duty was.
He groaned and swung his legs off his bed, knocking off an empty beer car. He gently kicked a pair of sweatpants out of the way, and opened his bedroom door to the familiar creak it’s had for as long as he could remember.
JJ’s door was shut, and John B gave a quick smirk at the Gone Fishin’ sign on the door. He paused, that first thought stopped JB in his tracks for a moment. When did he start to think of his dad’s room as JJ’s. Huh, well maybe that’s the growth or healing, or whatever that Kiara goes on and on about, finally coming through.
John B shook his head, half to shake off the thoughts of all the time passed since he last saw his dad in these walls and half to test how hung over he was. Oof, bad idea, His hand braced his head immediately. He probably shouldn’t have done those last tequila shots with that touron from Pittsburgh.
Swaying slightly, he made his way to the kitchen. All the walls and windows were intact, which is surprisingly a win. He swung open the cabinet, not expecting to find what he needed, when was the last time someone did dishes? Just as he suspected, no clean glasses or mugs or even bowls... So John B grabbed the cleanest looking mug on the counter, tossing out a still damp chamomile tea bag. No one besides Kie drank chamomile tea. She says she can’t fall asleep without it, especially after a night of drinking. The boys would always tease her for drinking hot tea in the dead heat of the summer.
Using his highly honed detective skills, JB now concluded that Kie must be around the house still. This was not a particularly impressive deduction given the aforementioned tea bag and the fact that on any ol’ night there was a very high chance that Kiara and the others slept over.
John chugged a mug full of water and starting filling it again. Hopefully this will help with his dry mouth and pounding head.
Water in hand, John B made his way out to the living room. The futon was open and the sheets were rumpled. But no Kie or Pope is to be found. However, they truly are collecting quite the array of beer cans and cigarette butts these days.
Pushing onwards, he reached the porch and a smile crept onto his face. If there was one thing to know about his friend Pope, it’s that the man can sleep anywhere in any position. Pope was about 50% on the couch and 50% everywhere else. His left side was fully hanging off the side; held up only by his left foot which was braced on a stack of old nautical books. His left arm was on the chair they used as a table, like he fell asleep mid reaching for his beer. His right arm was tucked under his head like a pillow, the only normal part of this. And his right leg hooked over the back of the couch, pressing against the screen of the porch. It was a truly impressive position to be in while out cold.
John B would have woken anyone else, but not Pope. Any stiffness a regular person might feel from that contortion never seemed to plague their brainy friend. Might as well let him sleep.
Stepping outside, JB headed to the hammock. The most likely place to find Kie when she wasn’t curled up on the living room futon. A quick scan of the grounds of the chateau revealed no glaring carnage from last night’s party.
But also revealed no Kie… which was strange. Hmm, maybe she went home after all last night. He turned around to head back in to make some coffee. Just before entering the porch again, John B noticed Kiara’s backpack and shoes leaning up against the house.
Okay, so yes, Kie is a “super hot hippie chick” to quote the ever eloquent words of JJ, but she wasn’t like a no shoes type hippie? Not in North Carolina, there are too many poisonous snakes and bugs and whatnot. But maybe she borrowed one of the boys shoes? Nah, she is always on their case about how much their feet smell... John B’s head was really starting to hurt, and he was certainly not clear-headed enough to think this through.
Returning to the porch, John B shook Pope’s arm slightly, “Hey, man. Wake up.”
“Ugh, JB you are aware I am sleeping here right?” Pope grumbled.
“Sounds like you aren’t sleeping anymore, so since I have you, did you see Kie leave last night?”
Pope grunted and sat up, “You woke me for this. No, she stayed over like normal, dude. Can I go back to sleep now?”
“I can’t find her.” John B replied, letting a little nervousness creep into his voice.
It should probably be clarified who started the morning check-in rule, and how it came to be. One of the first parties after Kiara returned to cut from her Kook sabbatical, John B got massively drunk. So drunk, he ended up sleeping just barely in the marsh on a raft.
Kiara flipped her shit the next morning when she couldn’t find him. Pope and JJ were fairly nonchalant about the whole affair, claiming he probably just snagged some hottie and ditched them for her. No reason to be concerned until like after lunch for sure.
Kiara was having none of that, and was about to organize a search party for John B, when he rambled into sight smelling like low tide.
She ran to him, and launched herself into his arms. Her eyes were watery when she finally let him go, much to his confusion about the whole situation.
Once every member of the gang had some caffeine in them, Kiara explained, “We have to look out for each other you guys.”
JJ rolled his eyes, “Sure, mama.”
“No, I’m serious. Do you know how easily people on figure 8 can get access to date rape drugs?” Kiara continued.
“Fuck Kie, have you—“ John B started.
“No, thank god. But I have heard of people. It’s not just girls getting roofied, you know. It’s not always sexual.” Kiara added ominously, “Kook guys are fucked up. Sometimes, they will make a game of it. It’s like a power trip. A weird hunt of theirs. Making someone else lose control like that.
“You could end up taking the boat with no one knowing, and drowning. Or getting hit by car. Or I don’t know some other fucked up thing.” Kiara said in a rush. “I don’t know how if I could handle losing one of you.”
“Lord knows I need as much family as I can get” John B contributed darkly.
Kie grabbed his shoulder in comfort before declaring, “So let’s just make it a rule, yeah? I don’t want a morning like this again. First person up checks on everyone?”
There was a brief moment of silence until JJ answered in an uncharacteristically solemn tone, “I think it’s good idea. I’m in.”
Pope and John B quickly added their agreement. And just like that the rule was set. Over time, it developed into an assessment of the Chateau property as well, due to the incident with the fire and oranges and juggling (“Thank you very much JJ for the scorch marks in the bathroom.”) Eventually, the rule expanded further to include texting the gang if you were leaving with someone, but not texting if you and the special someone were going to be staying at the chateau. (“JJ, you don’t need to text every time you stay here with someone. Just put the goddamn Gone Fishin’ sign on the door like we agreed, no one wants to walk on that…. again”).
John B wouldn’t go as far as to say the morning rule was sacred, but he would definitely say that Kiara being missing was concerning. Of all the pogues, she certainly wins the superlative for most reliable.
“Fuck, did you check the ---“
John B interrupted, “Checked the living room, the kitchen, she isn’t here on the porch, not in the hammock and her stuff is still outside. And…” he looked down at his phone to the #poguelife group chat quickly, “… no texts.”
“Double fuck. I’ll check the van, you wake JJ?” Pope was snapping in action mode, punctuated by his putting on of a hat.
Ignoring the throb in his head, John B nodded and swiftly made his way to the closed door he passed early. God, they need Kie. Sure, they consider her their voice of reason, but she is so much more than that. She by far thinks the quickest on feet, getting them out of more than their fair share of sticky situations. She also, without a doubt, is the best at makes the boys confront their emotions. He can hear her tirade on how the boys should ‘take on more of the emotional labor forced onto women’ nearly word for word in his head. Cutting off this stream of thought, John B pushed into JJ’s room and oh-
Well that solves that mystery... And introduces a whole hell of a lot more questions.
Kiara and JJ were tangled on the bed. Her leg was hooked over his hips and she was tucked under his arm. Her hand gently rested on JJ’s chest. Her t-shirt twisting around her torso while her bare legs poked out from under the sheet. JJ was lying on his back, with one arm cradling Kie into him like she was the most precious thing in his life, and the other arm was blocking Kie’s face from John B’s view.
JJ looked up, and paused from what looked like he was caringly brushing Kie’s hair out of her face.
“Oh hey, JB. Be quiet, yeah? Kie didn’t sleep well.” JJ said softly. His blue eyes tender as he looked down at their spunky, save-the-world-at-all-costs girl.
It was strange to see his whirlwind of a friend acting so gentle and sweet, and John B did not want to disturb the moment. They looked so peaceful. They both deserve this.
John B with wide eyes, backed out of the room, carefully shut the door, and scurried outside, hangover headache be damned! This was breaking news!!
Pope came into sight, returning from the where the van was parked.
“She wasn’t in the van, but I was thinking I maybe I saw her chatting with JJ while she was making tea last night, so he might know…. where she is….“ Pope started to say, but trailed off after seeing relief and amusement on John B’s face. “Did you find her? Did JJ know where she is?”
JB laughed and clapped his hand onto Pope’s shoulder,
“Oh boy, does he ever know where Kie is!”
An addendum to the rule was added later that same morning. First person up in the morning checks on everyone else and the property, BUT if JJ’s door has the newly-altered-with-sharpie sign up, WE’VE Gone Fishin’, then you probably want to wait to enter the room.