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Kathryn thanks her sixteen years of age for her back. Anywhere near thirty, and the sand would have busted her lumbars, she'd be hunched over forever, like freaking Quasimodo. And anyway, it's not like they get enough sleep for her to break her back over. The Pogues, for once in their lives, wake up at the same time – with the sun. They hate it, but she'd always been an early bird.
Except, well, right now, her ears are still clogged with sleep and eyes still shut and JJ's weight is still thrown across her chest, his head in the crook of her neck as she noses his blond hair. They've somehow retained that citrusy smell. His legs comfortably lying between and over her own barely twitch when they start hearing screams.
He lightly holds her closer to him, burying his head deeper in her scent. "Why's your best friend yellin' right now?" he asks, lips moving against her collarbone.
She hums non-commitally. "Before sunrise, he's your best friend."
There's a moment of silence, and they settle back to sleep, shuffling around for the other's body heat. Whatever crisis John B is having, it can wait. Usually it's about asking whether or not the bug near his foot is dangerous, to which she always responds with 'Don't wait for my answer, haul ass just in case!' He can handle himself. She thinks. Well...
"There's a plane!"
Kathryn freezes, feeling JJ tense up against her. She wonders for a second if John B's lost all his marbles, which wouldn't exactly be a surprise considering he only has half of them on a good day. She sits up, her boyfriend groaning as he goes with her.
A white plane is circling the island.
Her stomach drops then soars, and she's on her feet before she can register what she's seeing, pointing at it, and then gesturing madly at Pope, adrenaline and hope surging through her veins. She screams at him to go light the pyre on top of the cliff, to signal that they're here, that they're alive, stranded, and that they want to go home.
After a few, long, excruciating minutes waiting for Pope to light the fire and then for the plane to notice it, they watch as it turns around in the direction of the cliff, heaving out sighs and whooping in the air.
