golden wings melt like blue slushies // JJ Maybank

-Sometimes love is not enough, And the road gets tough, I don't know why-

"...Hey."

Icarus sat up, her leg pulled to her chest. She rubbed at her eyes where tears had made them puffy and squinted around the dingy back of the van filled with empty bottles and a torn beanbag.

She focused on squishing the little white foam balls covering the carpet with her finger instead of looking at Pope. "...Hey."

"Are you... was it..." He started, wringing his hands out. He was squashed in the back with her as people argued outside, eyes full of sympathy or pity or something like that that just made Icarus want to throw up and claw his eyes out and then eat some peaches and go to sleep. "Are you okay?"

She rubbed her face again, blowing strands of hair decorated with prickly grass out of eyes. She gulped. Then she held her arms out a little and was drawn into a cautious hold that became a bone crushing bear hug when she felt her shoulders start to shake and her eyes sting.

Icarus just needed a shower and a warm bed, but crying into Pope's shoulder worked the same.

Only once she started, the tears didn't seem to be slowing down, so she wiped at her cheeks and pulled away, tugging her jumper sleeves down over her hands. She didn't know what was happening outside and frankly she didn't want to, so she curled up a bit tighter and rested her chin on her knee. "Hey."

"Hey," Pope said quietly. He winced as voices rose outside.

Icarus bit her thumb nail and peeked out the back window of the van. All she could see was a dirt road lined with scraggly trees, and a bike missing its back wheel thrown to the side. "Uh...Where are we?"

His eyes darkened. "It doesn't matter."

Icarus raised an eyebrow at him and he ducked his head, "JJ's being an idiot again."

She thought for a moment, tried to think of the stupidest thing she could do in this situation, or at least the part of the situation she could remember after her meltdown. "We're at... the dude with the guns house...to kill him? No, he'd still be out near the 'warehouse'... we're getting revenge. He's a drug dealer so he's probably got bags of cash hidden under his mattress and JJ's looking for them right now...?"

"I..." Pope blinked. "He didn't tell us, but yeah, you're probably right. How did you-"

"It's not hard," Icarus said, and pushed her hair out of her face properly, running her fingers through to free the brambles and bugs. "...That's what she said."

Pope sighed and then flinched violently as the van door was slammed shut and then open again, and Kiara groaned, throwing her hands in the air, or at least that's what they could see from the back of the van. Icarus sat up on her knees and looked over the back seats at the crowd outside.

JJ stood between all their friends with a duffel bag in hand and a bruise forming on his cheek bone, where Icarus had fixed up the last bruise there only a few days before. It felt like weeks ago.

"We're sick of your shit!"

JJ barked out a laugh, but even Icarus could see the way his jaw twitched from where she was, and it made dread pool in her rolling stomach "Oh, my shit?"

"Yeah," John B snapped. "Yeah. Your shit. Your pulling guns on people shit. You acting like a maniac-"

"My shit?" JJ said, his eyes narrowed at his best friend. "What about your shit man, what about all this shit you've been dragging us around in? But that's okay, it's fine that Iggy got arrested and you fell off the goddam lookout and we were all chased through the Crain house, because it's your shit."