someone to stay, ⁹¹¹

𝟎𝟑𝟎.

The clock on the wall ticked too loud.

JJ sat with her legs tucked underneath her on the soft armchair across from Dr. Loomis, her fingers twisting the hem of her sweatshirt—a thread she'd pulled loose months ago but never quite let go of.

Dr. Loomis gave her a soft, almost knowing look. The kind that JJ had gotten used to over the years but still hadn't fully learned to trust.

It wasn't judgment. It never was with her. But this time, it felt heavier. This time, JJ knew she had to sit with truths she hadn't spoken aloud, not even to herself.

"Hi, JJ," Dr. Loomis greeted gently, folding her hands in her lap. "It's good to see you."

JJ swallowed hard, nodding once. "Yeah. You too."

There was a long pause. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable, it never was, but it hovered in the air like something waiting to be cracked open.

"I spoke with your dad this morning," Dr. Loomis said softly. "He told me what's been going on."

JJ's fingers froze around her sweatshirt hem. Her stomach tightened, and her throat felt like it was closing in on itself. She knew this was coming. Buck had said he'd tell her therapist, that it was important, that it would help, but hearing it out loud still made it real in a way nothing else had.

She felt sick.

"You don't have to explain anything you're not ready to," Dr. Loomis added, voice even softer now. "This is still your space."

JJ looked up at her then, eyes glassy and rimmed red. "I was clean for two weeks before they found out."

"I know," Dr. Loomis nodded. "That's an incredibly hard thing to do. I'm proud of you."

JJ blinked at her, lips parting in disbelief. She wasn't used to that. Pride. Especially not when she felt like she had failed so completely.

"I didn't even... I didn't even realize it was that bad. At first," she said quietly. "It started right after the tsunami. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. It was like... the water didn't leave me."

Her voice broke then. She clenched her fists in her lap.

"I was drowning, and everyone kept telling me I was safe now—but I wasn't. Not in my head. It just kept coming back. The sound, the silence after, the screaming."

Dr. Loomis waited.

"And then I got the pills. I thought they'd made me feel normal again." JJ laughed bitterly, rubbing her hands over her face. "It did. At first. It made everything stop. Made me quiet. I wasn't scared or angry or tired. I was just... still. Almost empty."

"And so you kept taking them," Dr. Loomis finished gently, not as an accusation, just to show that she understood.

JJ nodded slowly, tears falling freely now. "I didn't want to be addicted. I swear I didn't. But it was like I couldn't not take them. Every time I tried to stop, I'd shake and cry and—I wasn't okay. I'd scream at people, push them away. I was cruel to Sophia. I said horrible things to her. And she just—she just forgave me, and stayed."

"She loves you."

JJ looked down. "I don't know why."

"Because you're not unlovable, JJ. You were hurting. That doesn't make you a bad person—it just makes you human."

The words struck something deep in JJ. Something buried beneath all the guilt and shame she had carried like armour for months. She shook her head slowly. "I was scared to tell my dad."