Serendipity and Stupidity

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/52909462.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category: Gen
Fandom: Outer Banks (TV)
Relationship: JJ Maybank & Victor Shoupe
Characters: JJ Maybank, JJ Maybank's Mother, John B. Routledge, John "Big John"
Routledge, Pope Heyward, Kiara "Kie" Carrera, Luke Maybank, Susan
Peterkin, Victor Shoupe
Additional Tags: Domestic Violence, JJ Maybank Needs a Hug, Shoupe tries his best,
Luke Maybank Being an Asshole, Luke Maybank's A+ Parenting, Angst,
Fluff, eventually..., Shoupe is a good dad
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2024-01-08 Updated: 2024-01-13 Words: 7,219 Chapters: 2/?
 Serendipity and Stupidity
by TheMightyKweh

Summary

Deputy Shoupe takes it upon himself to show JJ what a family is supposed to look like.

Or a jaded old man and a little shit cross paths several times.

Notes
See the end of the work for notes
 Chapter 1

Shoupe hated Luke Maybank. The man was a lying, cheating, thieving alcoholic, and most of
all one mean sunova bitch. The first time he’d met the bastard was when the man had
fractured some poor Kooks skull for the crime of looking at him the wrong way. Hell,
Peterkin has a special brevity for dealing with him specifically. Now, one would assume,
given the aforementioned ‘Quirks’ of Maybank, that that would be the reason Shoupe hated
‘im. But no. He’s been on the force a decade and he’s seen the exact same behavior in dozens
of other men. Pogues that would prefer to reaffirm and validate everything the Kooks said
about them, rather than try to be better. But at least most of those men had the decency to
keep their attention focused on the Kooks or each other. Not on their own blood.

Where the Kooks had their queen, the Pogues had their princess. Madelyn Maybank was the
best thing to happen to OBX in a long time. Shoupe couldn’t recall a single person, Kook, or
Pogue, that didn’t adore her. She was kind, compassionate, patient beyond measure, and
much more than their little town deserved. Which made it all the more surprising, that she’d
choose Luke to fall in love with. He supposed that the whole thing about opposites attracting
one another must’ve had some truth in it, otherwise there was no way in hell those two
would’ve got along like they did. As far as he was concerned, there wasn’t much of anything
good in him, but she saw something special. Where Luke would break noses, she would
break barriers. Where Luke would fight to make an example of someone, she would fight to
protect her loved ones. Where Luke made war, she made peace. Her presence is the sole
reason that Luke wasn’t in jail most of the time. He’d get in some trouble fightin’ or stealin’
or something else stupid but as soon as she would show up, all the charges would be dropped.
That or the officer unlucky enough to have to deal with ‘im would get swooned by little Mrs.
Maybank and let him off with a warning. Shoupe remembers Peterkin especially, for all her
hatred for Luke, would always let ‘im go if Madelyn were around. Always had a soft spot for
her, he thinks. In another life, he would’ve assumed those two to be a couple. At least more
so than her and Luke. But in this case, they were merely the closest thing to it, always
talking, laughing, and genuinely loving each other. To this day, she is still the only person he
ever saw Peterkin let ride in her patrol car (Still don’t even let him ride the damn thing).
Unfortunately, that’s ‘round where his good memories of Madelyn ended.

Everyone and their mother knew that Luke Maybank had no right to raise a child. Most
wouldn’t trust ‘im to take care of a goddamn goldfish, let alone an infant. Even so, people
thought the kid would be fine so long as good ol’ Madelyn was there. She would never let
anything happen to the kid; she would protect him and care for him. All reassurances and
empty platitudes. Shoupe is certain that she loved that child with all her heart at some point
and would’ve sooner died than seen him upset in the slightest. Whenever she’d go out, she
would always have her child with her. And that child would always have a smile on ‘is face.
She’d parade ‘im all around the island, from shabby shacks to mighty mansions, sayin’
“Look at my sweet little boy! Look at my little JJ!” Even took ‘im out in the water when he
was still in diapers. Shoupe could’ve swore the kid learned how to surf before he learned how
to walk. Luke would join ‘em sometimes. She always seemed especially nervous during
those outings, but no one paid it any mind. ‘Least, not like they should’ve.
He’s ashamed he didn’t see it sooner. She would start wearing more concealing clothing
when she went out, which itself became a rarity. Her once kind and warm laugh became cold
and timid. Where she once was all hugs and kisses, she’d now flinch at the slightest touch.
But people couldn’t have known the proper reason for it. Everything could be excused. “Oh,
maybe she just came down with a stomach bug and don’t wanna get no one sick.” “Oh,
maybe she’s just a lil cold. It is getting close to Autumn!” No one wanted to believe it was
something worse. Even as more calls came in that there was yelling and screaming at the
Maybank’s. Even as people started to notice some swelling on Madelyn’s face. Even when
Peterkin would beg her to say something; Anything! Something for her to go on, someone for
her to deal with, she’d always just laugh it off. Come up with some excuse that everyone’d
know was bulllshit but couldn’t do anything about. “Aww, don’t you worry, I just tripped on
the way ‘ere.” “Me and Luke were just messing around, don’t mind us!”

The kid may have been ‘round 3 or 4 when Shoupe saw Madelyn for the last time. He was at
his desk, listening to some Kook complain about some Kook shit, like their grass being an
inch too tall when she entered the station. He assumed she was there like usual to talk to
Peterkin about whatever nonsense came to ‘em. Everyone went to give their usual greeting
but stopped short when they saw the state of ‘er. Beaten black and blue all over. On her face,
a black eye, a broken nose, patches of missing hair, and a freshly split lip to compliment the
rest of the horrid portrait. Along her arms, she was turnin’ different shades of purple, yellow,
and red. Long, deep scars ran along her right arm, the blood pooling at her feet, as if she had
plenty to spare. He’d find out later that the bastard had taken a knife to ‘er. By the way she
was clutching ‘er sides, he assumed she had more than a few broken ribs as well. As she
limped closer, he could see the imprints on ‘er neck, like someone had tried to strangle ‘er.
She didn’t say much, and to be honest, given the condition she was in, he was surprised she
could speak at all.

“Help…”

At that, the whole office was in an uproar, ambulances called, questions being asked, rage
and grief triumphing o’er all. Who would dare lay a hand on sweet ol’ Madelyn? Who could
possibly want to hurt the princess of the Pogues? He remembers the hatred festerin’ in the air.
Palpable and bitter. Almost like he could taste it. And he’ll never forget the look on
Peterkin’s face. He’d seen her mad before, but this? This was something new entirely. She
looked ‘bout ready to shoot someone for speakin’ too loudly, let alone whatever bastard had
dared to hurt Madelyn. She ordered every officer, called in every favor, and contacted every
shady dealer she knew to scour the land and find out precisely what had happened. She took
‘im personally to the Maybank house. He didn’t need to ask why. They both knew exactly
what happened and exactly who did it. He also didn’t need to ask why she sent every other
available officer somewhere else. Whatever she was gonna do to Luke wouldn’t be exactly
classified as… ‘legal’.

They got there a short time later. Normally, he’d be prayin’ to god that they wouldn’t end up
upside down in a ditch with the way she was drivin’ but the only prayers he could think of
were ones of forgiveness, for what he was gon’ do to the bastard once he saw ‘im. They saw
the kid first. Could’ve sworn the poor thing saw a ghost based off the look of pure terror on
‘is face. He was sitting on the steps leading up to the house, crying somethin’ fierce, and
tearing out tufts of hair. Maybank came ‘round from the back of the house with his hand
raised already. Rat knew why they were there. Peterkin was all force and fury as she stormed
out the car, gun already trained on Luke’s head. Shoupe followed in similar fashion close
behind her if for nothing else than to not get in the way of her shot. Had they been calmer,
and more reasonable, things might’ve ended differently. There might’ve actually been some
justice done that day. But given the circumstance, that would’ve been an insurmountably tall
order. The got within a meter of ‘im and could see the dried blood on ‘is knuckles. There was
never a situation in which rationality would’ve prevailed that day. He’s honestly surprised
that Peterkin didn’t shoot ‘im then and there.

Peterkin had Shoupe stay with the kid. As much as he’d wanted to be the one to deal with
Maybank, He knew how much this meant to her. So, he holstered his gun and sat right next to
the kid on the steps, watching as she led Luke behind the house, gun digging into his back.
While sitting there he had the chance to get a better look at the kid. Aside from some missing
hair and a couple scratches he appeared to be fine. Shoupe had never really gotten the chance
to meet ‘JJ’ in person. Always busy breaking up some dumbass fight or obligin’ some stupid
request from some rich prick. Kid looked nearly identical to his mother with a few scattered
resemblances to his father. Under better circumstances, he’d ‘ave loved to properly introduce
himself but for now, he resigned to holdin’ the kid’s hands, so he’d stop pullin’ out his hair.
No sooner had he done so had the kid started wailin’ like a banshee. Should’ve figured that a
kid who had just saw his mother nearly beat to death would be a bit reluctant to be held in
any way. Still, Shoupe couldn’t just let ‘im keep pullin’ ‘is hair out so he just accepted that
things would be a bit loud for a while. It was actually helpful in a way. Kid’s screamin’
helped drown out whatever Peterkin was doing to Maybank on the other side of the house.

JJ had been screamin’ for a solid ten minutes by the time he wore ‘imself out. He tried to
fight it but ended up fallin’ face first into Shoupe’s lap and dozin’ off. Shoupe had to give it
to the kid, he’d lasted longer than he thought. Boy’s got some pipes on ‘im. He’s sure that’ll
be an annoyance down the road, but he’s got bigger problems now. The silence was welcome
but concernin’. He’d stopped hearin’ anything from the back of the house a while ago and
knowing Peterkin, that could very well mean that she’d beat the man to death. He was gettin’
ready to head back there when she emerged with Maybank following close behind. Man was
sportin two new shiners and a busted lip. The rest of him didn’t look much better. While,
seeing the vagrant in such condition brought a bit of a reprieve for Shoupe, it would be short
lived.

Slimy little bastard was connivin’ as hell. He had known that they were coming and knew
they’d be angry. So, he put a few plans into action. In retrospect, Shoupe should’ve seen the
signs and done his job, but he was seein’ red that day. Maybank had made sure to come out as
peaceful as possible. Then while he was out back with Peterkin, he’d made sure to get ‘er all
riled up based on the look of her. Making sure that she’d be too busy bein’ mad at him than
rememberin’ the basics. Like getting a warrant to search the house or reading him his
Mirandas. So even when they had clear evidence in the house of the fight happenin’ it all had
to be thrown out. They couldn’t even hold the bastard cause ‘is attorney threatened to sue the
department for failing to read ‘im his rights. Their only saving grace would be the witness
testimony but even that fell to shit.

The kid refused to say anything. Shoupe suspected that his father got to ‘im at some point.
Put the fear of god into him. Poor kid could never keep his story straight, saying he was
either in his room, or staying at his friend’s house, or sleeping on the beach. Half the time it
didn’t even make sense, but they couldn’t ask for a lot from ‘im. He wasn’t even in
elementary school. Shoupe probably wouldn’t make much sense in his shoes either. This
went on for about a week until ‘is mother finally woke up. When she had gotten to the
hospital she’d been rushed to the ICU and placed in a coma for a while. Had he not been busy
trying to get the kid’s story, he might’ve visited her. For a while after she came too, she didn’t
even acknowledge what had happened to her. So much so, that they had to have the doc run a
test to make sure she didn’t have any form of brain damage. She’d just pretend that she’d fell
down some stairs or met an angry gator. Eventually though, with enough persistence from
Peterkin, she broke down and just…cried. Even when they reassured her that Luke couldn’t
hurt her anymore and that ‘er boy was safe, she’d just cry, cry, cry. This went on for days and
only got worse when they brought in JJ to see her. As soon as he tried to go up to her, she
started screamin’ bloody murder. All that accomplished was causing the kid to cry too, which
in turn caused her to cry harder. Ultimately, it was decided by the doc that she needed
solitude for the time being and that they should give ‘er space. Even with Peterkin
threatening to have the whole hospital audited and investigated, they were forced to leave ‘er
alone. One of ‘is many regrets.

Some say she persuaded the docs to simply let ‘er out. Others said she broke a window and
escaped. The particularly stupid members of the island claimed she was abducted by aliens.
All anyone knows is that the next morning, when they went to check on ‘er, she was gone,
never to be seen again. Even as they investigated every inch of that hospital, reviewed all the
tapes, and interviewed and/or interrogated every possible witness, there was nothing. Like
she vanished into thin air. The best lead they got was some low-rank smuggler named
‘Barracuda Mike’ but the most they got out of ‘im (Through much encouragement with
Peterkin’s revolver) was that he was running some weed for some distributors in South
America and that some women had paid him to let ‘er tag along. That left them with either,
an international investigation that would take years to resolve if it even did get resolved, or a
woman that just disappeared. Without their victim to testify they had to end the investigation
there. They had to let Maybank walk free and begrudgingly, had to send the child back to him
as well. He’ll never in his life forget the look the kid gave him as he handed him back to his
father. In a more just world, he would’ve been able to take the kid and put ‘im with some
capable adults, some people that’d keep ‘im safe, keep ‘im loved. In a perfect world, he
would’ve been able to simply shoot Maybank dead and Madelyn wouldn’t ‘ave run away.
Unfortunately, this world is neither. So, as he handed the child over and saw the abject horror
in his eyes, he knew he had failed him.
 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

Appreciate the comments and love for the first chapter.

I've got this issue where I really don't like writing angst because it makes me sad and
where I write entirely too much fluff because it makes me happy. This chapter is an
example of the latter. Supposed to be like 2000 words but here we are. Now I've got to
make the next chapter even longer. ugh.

Anywho, hope yall enjoy. As always critique and criticism are welcome and appreciated.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The next time Shoupe would see JJ, would be the kid’s eleventh birthday. Now that’s not to
say that he hadn’t seen the kid in passing o’er the years. Most the time he was playing with
the Routledges or the Heyward boy. While typically, Shoupe would be happy to see JJ
minglin’ with kids his age and responsible adults, he doesn’t rightly know if he could call Big
John a… ‘responsible’ adult. Man’s been busted trying to teach his twelve-year-old how to
drive four times, has several fines for that death trap he calls ‘The Twinkie’, and spends most
of his days with Ward Cameron, talkin’ about golden cities and buried treasure or whatever
other fairy tales they believe in. Still, Shoupe figures JJ spending his time with ‘em is better
than the alternative. Shoupe hasn’t been sent back to the Maybank home since the incident
with Madelyn, but that doesn’t mean nothings been happening. While he couldn’t necessarily
prove it yet, he knew that without Madelyn there to be Luke’s punching bag, the kid would
likely take her place. He’d see JJ with a bruise every so often, but any inquiry raised at the
office would lead to the same result. “Aw Shoupe, you know how rough young boys can get.
Probably just fell or was rough housing with one of his friends.” Peterkin would believe him,
but she was too busy managing the rest of the force to offer him much help in the matter. JJ’s
eleventh birthday, however, gave him something more to go on.

Shoupe had been on patrol that night for some ‘suspicious individuals’ in the area near the
Johnson’s house. The Johnsons were the definition of rich and entitled and every call he’d
gotten related to them, involved the most inane, stupid, kook bullshit he could imagine. So,
after an hour of riding in circles around their neighborhood, he had gotten pretty frustrated.
He was getting ready to call it a day and just ride back when he saw a beam of light out the
corner of his eye. His eyes followed the beam to a construction site. More multi-million-
dollar mansions being built to feed into some Kooks ego. Normally, he’d wait and call for
backup, but he was tired that night and wanted to wrap things up as fast as possible. So, he
parked the cruiser and sneaked into the site, gun drawn and readied, flashlight leading the
way. More than likely, it was just some faulty floodlights, but it never hurt to be prepared.
Ironically, for all that preparation, he was still surprised when he rounded a corner and
crashed directly into someone. Or more accurately got crashed into. Whatever hit him had
been small and frail. Fell straight to the ground after slamming into him. He shined his light
at the figure and put his finger on the trigger. Studying it closer he saw what looked like a
little kid. A kid that looked rather familiar to Shoupe.

“Pope?”

The mention of his name has the child staring wide, directly at him. Shoupe holstered his gun
as to not scare him. With his free hand he helped the kid back to his feet.

“God damn boy, nearly shot ya. What the hell are you doing out here?” Shoupe helped Pope
of the ground and set him in front of him. He didn’t have the energy to chase the boy if he got
squirrely so he figured it was better to keep him as calm as possible.

“Um…Uh…I’m studying the rocks here for a school project!” Pope honestly looked proud of
the completely unconvincing lie and Shoupe had to resist the urge to not bust out laughing.

“Right, and I’m here to meet Beyonce. Tell me the actual reason you’re here and I’ll consider
not telling your dad I caught you out here this late.” Knowing the Heywards, there was no
way in hell that they would’ve let Pope out any time after 7, let alone midnight. Kid
definitely snuck out to be out here, Shoupe just needed to find out why.

“WaitWaitWaitWaitWait…um…” Pope looked like he was considering his options and found
that he didn’t really have any.

“Ok. Follow me. And promise you won’t get mad!” Pope turned around and started walking
in the direction of the light Shoupe had seen earlier. Protocol dictates that he shouldn’t follow
a suspect alone in a dark construction zone. So does basic logic. But Shoupe knew Pope
wouldn’t and couldn’t hurt a fly, so he figured he’d be alright.

Following the kid, he ended up in a more open section of the development. He locked onto
the source of the light he’d seen earlier. As he’d guessed it was a set of floodlights pointing
directly at the new subject of his attention. Big John’s son was standing stock still,
illuminated by the aforementioned floodlights not too dissimilar to a deer in headlights.
Behind him was the empty frame of a house. Even with it being nothing but 2x4s at the
moment, Shoupe could tell the thing would be massive and overpriced. Next to it was an
array of barrels, probably filled with concrete or industrial mud, meant for the driveway, soon
to be built there. Ignoring the middle schoolers, the scene looked pretty mundane. Only issue
was one of the barrels having a pair of legs dangling from the side of it.

While yes, Shoupe knew that it was unlikely that Pope or John B had killed someone and
tried to hide the body like some bad mafia movie, he still felt it necessary to give a glance to
the two of them, prompting them to explain exactly what he was looking at.

“Pope!” John B started. “You were supposed to get my dad! Not a cop!”

“I didn’t exactly plan on running into him dude!” Pope returned. “He just ran into me!
Besides, he promised he wouldn’t get mad. And maybe he can help!”
Despite trying to whisper what they were saying, they spoke loud enough that Shoupe would
be surprised if the whole neighborhood hadn’t heard them.

“That remains to be seen.” Shoupe stepped closer to the barrel with the legs hanging off of it.
“Mind telling me what you boys are doing out here?”

“We were looking for buried treasure.” John B said it so nonchalantly that Shoupe had to
question if he himself is the crazy one in this situation. He figured they were out there
playing a stupid prank on some Kook or doing some especially brazen dare one of them had
bet the other they couldn’t do, but this? This was an entirely new level of Tom Foolery that
he really didn’t feel like broaching at the end of his shift.

Shoupe didn’t get the chance to ask John B what the hell he meant by ‘buried treasure’ before
the previously inanimate legs haphazardly dangling over the side of one of the barrels started
to twitch and jerk back and forth. John B and Pope rushed to the pair of legs, each taking one
and pulling long and hard. A few moments later and the body attached to the legs would
come fumbling out, falling directly onto the two kids. It rose slowly, dripping with uncured,
wet, and gray cement, looking more like the creature from the black lagoon than an actual
human being. It’s hands rose to clear some of the gunk from its face, revealing piercing eyes
and a wide toothy grin.

Shoupe’s hand instinctively went to grip the revolver on his hip. He’d joined the force to
fight crime, not god damned zombies. He was just about ready to unholster it when he heard
a familiar laughter emanating from the monster.

“WOOOOOH! THAT WAS CRAZY BRO! Didn’t see any treasure in that one either but I am
SO ready to go again!” The monster started whooping and hollering as if it wasn’t the dead of
night and as though it wasn’t very much on private property illegally. That, combined with
the voice keyed Shoupe in on who this ‘monster’ really was.

“JJ? Why the hell are you covered in cement?” At that, the monster froze, slowly turning to
meet Shoupe’s gaze.

“Officer-Sherriff-Deputy-Policeman Shoupe sir…What are you doing up this late?” JJ tried

to look nonchalant by crossing his arms and leaning back but only succeeded in falling
directly back into the cement barrel.

“Feel like I should be asking you that…” Shoupe said under his breath. After waiting for the
other two boys to fish JJ back out of the cement barrel, Shoupe turned off the floodlights and
led the kids back to his patrol car. The longer they stayed in the development, the higher the
chance that someone would call in another report of suspicious activity and the higher the
chance that an officer a whole lot less patient than him would show up. He had Pope and
John B line up in front of the patrol car so he could properly question them. Would’ve had JJ
there too but he was less than thrilled at the prospect of cement leaking onto the hood of his
cruiser. Shoupe had him sit on the curb next to the vehicle.

“Alright, last time im asking. Tell me what yall were doing back there before I call your
parents. And I swear to god if you say, ‘looking for buried treasure’ again, we’re going down
to the station.”
“But we were! My dad said the Kooks had hid some gold and jewels in the ground near here!
We’re gonna be rich!” Even through the darkness, Shoupe could see the kid beaming with
delight at the prospect of this buried treasure. “We were close to getting it too! Pope figured
out that they were probably at the bottom of the cement barrels. So, JJ started diving into em
to try and see which one they were in!”

“After 3 barrels, I figured our tactics may have needed to be reevaluated…” Pope offered.
Kid was entirely too smart to be this dumb. “John B said we should go get his dad to help us
find it, so I left to go get him and then I ran into you and then…yeah…”

Shoupe had a lot of questions. How did they figure the treasure was in the barrels? Why
didn’t they bring any shovels? Why not bring any flashlights? Why would Big John tell em
there was treasure here? How the hell did they even get here? It’s at least eight miles back to
the Cut. Did they just walk here? Was Pope going to walk all the way back to get to Big
John? Was the treasure even real? He figured that half of those questions could be answered
by them just being dumb kids. The other half, he could just ask Big John directly tomorrow.
Still, his curiosity got the best of him.

“Right, okay that’s all nice and dandy but what did you guys intend to buy with this ‘buried
treasure’? Yall are like ten. Were you gonna go buy a mountain full of candy or somethin’?”

Pope and John B shared a glance, and then gave a similar one to the boy sitting on the curb,
still preoccupied with trying to scoop off the caked-on cement from his body. They leaned in
close to Shoupe and brought their voice down to a whisper.

“It’s JJ’s birthday tomorr- . Is it after twelve Pope?” A nod from Pope prompts John B on.
“It’s JJ’s birthday today and we need money for a gift! “

“Why not just ask your parents for money?” Shoupe could understand Big John being a little
cheap, but the Heywards were far from impoverished. Surely, they could spare a couple
bucks for a decent present.

“John B’s dad said he was busy doing something with Mr. Cameron when we asked him. And
my mom said ‘Sorry sweety, but I don’t want to give Mr. Maybank any more money.’ I tried
telling her that it was for JJ and not his dad, but she wouldn’t listen.” Pope looked almost…
angry as he finished speaking.

Shoupe could understand why the kid was mad, but his mother was probably right. Even
though in general, Pogues weren’t nearly as affluent as their Kook neighbors, that didn’t
mean they were necessarily poor either. Most would still work hard to get their kids new
clothes and shoes and games all the other amenities that should be afforded a child. However,
Luke Maybank wasn’t like most Pogues. No Luke, preferred to use all of his money on
himself and his two friends Jack Daniels and Captain Morgan. It was a well held theory that
any money that JJ would be given by a particularly philanthropic Kook, or by a Kind enough
Pogue would go directly to his father. If his one pair of sandals or tattered clothing were any
indication. Shoupe still doesn’t understand how CPS hasn’t stepped in yet. Can’t fault a man
for being poor but Luke isn’t even trying to take care of the kid.
Shoupe’s brought back to reality when something wet and hard hit his face. Focusing on the
direction it came from, he sees JJ shaking wildly, flinging wet cement in every which
direction.

“Boy, what the hell are you doin-“ Shoupe is halted by a small piece of cemented goop
entering his mouth.

“I see some of the strays doing this all the time when they get wet! It works for them so I
figured it would probably work for me too!” JJ responds as Shoupe chokes on the cement
now lodged in his throat.

Shoupe was valiantly fighting the urge to punt the child in front of him. Admittedly, the
action did clear most of the loose cement from the boy’s body but that did little to dissuade
him.
“Alright boys... Everybody in the car, I’m taking yall home. JJ, try not to get too much
cement on the seat son.” Shoupe said after violently dislodging the obstruction from his
throat.

“But what about…Y’know…” John B said while gesturing towards a confused looking JJ.

“I’m being nice and giving yall the option to sleep in your own houses tonight rather than in
the station. Don’t test my patience. Now everybody in.”

Begrudgingly the three boys got into the backseat of the patrol car with Shoupe following
shortly, entering the driver seat.

“Now, before I start driving. It is quite literally the middle of the night. Im tired and want to
go home so we’re gonna ‘ave ourselves a silent car ride. That means that with god as my
witness, if I hear any of yall speak a single word, I’m tasing all of you. Understood?” A nod
from all three boys certifies their understanding as he begins the drive back to The Cut.

The silence lasted all of five minutes. Shoupe was about two miles out from The Cut when
the loudest, longest, and most aggressive noise he’d heard in his life erupted from the back
seat. For a moment he faltered and thought someone was shooting at them but no. Apparently
just a child with around twenty pounds of gas stuck in his back seat. And the smell. By god,
he thought he was going to faint.

“Good fuckin’ lord boys, roll down a window. Christ almighty, I think you singed my nose
hairs!”

They couldn’t hold back their laughter at that. All plans for silence were abandoned as the car
erupted into pleasant conversation and yo-mama jokes.

The night proved to be better than Shoupe could’ve expected than when he started his shift.
Granted, a cold beer and a Panthers game might’ve made him happier, these kids weren’t too
bad as far entertainment goes. He’s happy that even in their circumstance, they’re still able to
laugh and have fun. Especially JJ. Kid doesn’t have a pot to piss in (probably literally) but
still his spirit stays strong. He thinks back to what the Routledge kid said earlier and decides
to stop by a convenience store right outside the Cut. It’s close enough to the Kook side of the
island that they can afford to stock name brand toys and snacks. A luxury some Pogues can’t
dream of.

“Alright boys. Everyone out the car. Except you JJ.” The boy in question offers a confused
expression in response.

“Why can’t I go in? I want to get some stuff too!” JJ exclaims. He’s leaned forward and
almost yelling into Shoupe’s ear. Shoupe, refusing to argue with an 11-year-old, simply turns
around and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Son, you’ve still got some cement on ya. I’d prefer not to get hauled outta there o’er you
drippin’ down the aisles. Don’t worry, I’ll grab ya somethin’ while I’m in there, alright?”

The promise of a snack seems good enough to placate the child as he sits back with a pout
and crossed arms. After making sure that JJ won’t somehow be able to climb to the front seat,
Shoupe leads a confused John B and Pope into the store.

“We don’t have any money Mr. Shoupe.” Pope says.

“I know. I want both of you to get 2 things each. 1 thing for JJ, since it’s his birthday and 1
thing for yourselves for being good friends.” He watches as understanding dawns on both of
them. They get giddy and start dashing through the aisles looking for a proper gift for their
friend.

What exactly would be a good gift for an 11-year-old, Shoupe thought to himself. He has a
few nieces and nephews but they’re all either infants or toddlers so the gifts he gets for them
consist of binkies and pacifiers. He really should’ve just asked the kid what he wanted before
he went inside.

He makes his way over to the candy aisle and zeroes in on a 5lb bag of sour patch kids.
Something full of sugar and should last the kid, about a week. Who’s he kidding, it’ll likely
be gone before JJ gets out the car. Still, it’ll suffice. He grabs the bag and searches for the
other kids under his care. He doesn’t have to look hard since they’re the only ones in the
store. That and the fact that John B had knocked over a display that Pope was currently
cleaning up had clued him in pretty quickly to where they were.

In Pope’s right hand was a puzzle book full of crosswords and Sudokus, and in his other, a
box of firecrackers. Don’t need to be a detective to figure out which item is for who. John B
had a matching set of puke green baseball caps with the words ‘Surf Bros’ on em. They were
ugly as sin, but the kid looked happy, so Shoupe left it alone.

“Alright, was there anythin’ else yall think he might want?” Shoupe asked.

“We still need to get him a birthday cake! With like 50 candles! He really likes burning things
too!” John B looked a little too excited at that last part Shoupe thought.

As far as cakes go, the convenience store was a severely lacking. The closest thing Shoupe
could find to a cake was a prepackaged apple pie about the size of a Li’l Debbie bar. ‘It’ll
have to do…’ he thinks to himself.
As they approached the counter and placed their items in front of the befuddled employee,
Shoupe began to get nervous. These are dollar tree gifts, with a knock off cake (pie?), to be
celebrated in a police cruiser. A birthday in a prison would probably be better than this half-
baked attempt. Maybe he’d have been able to do better by the boy at another time in another
life, but this is all he can do as things stand. As such he pays the clerk for the items and walks
back out with the two giddy children by his side rushing to the cruiser.

Clamoring back into the car, Shoupe could see the aforementioned child beaming in the back
seat. The other boys climbed in hid their gifts from JJ. Before the child could ask, Shoupe
brought out the large bag our Sour Patch Kids and tossed it behind him to JJ.

“Holy shit! Is this all for me? Thanks police man!” JJ said with an ‘oof’ as the bag landed in
his lap.

“It’s Deputy Shoupe and you’re welcome kid” He had to resist scolding the kid for his
language. He figured he could address it later.

In the rearview mirror, Shoupe saw John B give Pope countdown with his fingers, the boy in
between them, distracted with trying to fit around 20 sour patch kids in his mouth at once.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” The kids say in unison. JJ jumps up in surprise as he looks in

between his friends. Pope goes first presenting the box of firecrackers to JJ. Shoupe swears
he could see fire in the kid’s eyes as he looked towards the box. Something to keep an eye on
later. The Routledge boy went next throwing one of the hats on JJ’s head and one on his own.
They hat was a bit oversized and still looked ugly as hell, but the kid was beaming with joy
so once again he left it alone. Shoupe went last, presenting the boy with the small apple pie.
A small ‘Happy Birthday kid’ to accompany the gift given to him.

Shoupe wasn’t quite sure how the kid would react but crying definitely wasn’t a possibility
he considered. It started small with just a few tears pricking JJ’s eyes, to full on waterfalls
erupting from ‘em. He knew this would be a mistake and that he should’ve trusted his gut and
just taken the kids home. Now he’s got a crying child in his backseat, and he doesn’t know
what to do and-

“Thank you…”

It’s barely above a whisper but Shoupe hears it all the same. It was at this point that he
realized the kid was still smiling through the tears.

“I never celebrated my birthday before. Every time my birthday came around, dad would get
drunk and start talking about mom. Last year he got so mad he…” JJ trailed off, rubbing
under his eyes but everyone in the car understood what he meant. Shoupe swore to himself
that the next time one of the boys at the station tried to excuse Luke’s behavior, he’d shoot
‘em himself.

“But this is great! I can think of like 100 things we can do with the firecrackers Pope! And
this ‘Surf Bros’ hat is awesome John B! This cake/pie thing rocks too, Deputy Shoupe!”
“Glad you like it kid. Now hurry up and eat so I can take yall back home.” Shoupe struggled
to keep his demeanor stern in the face of the pure happiness radiating from the backseat.

It’s around 1am when Shoupe takes them back home. The first was Pope. He arrived at the
Heyward house and as soon as he parked, he saw the lights flicker on. Shoupe had to cough
to hide the chuckle that came out as he looked at the mortified child. He walked Pope up to
the door and had a lengthy conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Heyward as to where their child
was all night. He made sure to add what the kid did for JJ to hopefully ease up any
punishment he may get. Given the look he saw Mrs. Heyward give the boy, he doubted it
helped. The Routledge boy was next. Approaching the house, Shoupe would’ve expected to
find another situation of a worried parent waiting with the lights on, but he knew Big John a
little to well for that. All the lights we’re out and he could hear the man snoring inside. John
B sighed and hopped out the car. Shoupe made sure to wait outside until he saw the kid get in
safely. Last up was JJ.

The ride to the Maybank residence was tense. All the joy that had been in the car quickly
drained out as a foreboding wave of dread washed over them. A quick glance in the rearview
showed the kid had just as much trepidation as Shoupe did. The light from inside the house
being on did little to soothe the feeling. Neither did the man stumbling out the door towards
the car.

“I ain’t done nuving officer… so why donthca get yor peppy ass back in YOUR FUCKIN
CAR AND FUCK OFF.” Normally Shoupe would’ve laughed at Luke’s outburst and simply
tased him. However, the child in the backseat paired with the clearly drunk man in front of
him just left him questioning if he shouldn’t just take the kid himself. A kind thought that is
unfortunately not possible.

“Mr. Maybank, did you know that your child was out on the other side of the Island well past
midnight?” Shoupe said opening the backseat door. JJ stepped out slowly, eyes wide and
trained on his father.

“So thats whair the lil shit went huh…” Luke spat. Just as his son’s eyes were focused on his,
his were now focused on his son’s. The difference being that one was looking on in fear and
the other in quiet rage.

“Sir I could have you arrested for child endangerment, child neglect, and public intoxication
if I truly wanted to right now. Count yourself lucky that I’m not in the business of deprivin’
young’uns the presence of their parents.” Lies. Bold faced and said through gritted teeth.
Shoupe would love nothing more than to arrest Luke. The main issue he’d have is that the
boys at CASA and CPS are more morally deprived than Luke himself. That’s what happens
when the majority of your local governance has been bought out by rich pricks. Devoid of a
financial incentive, they wouldn’t lift a finger to persecute Luke or find a good home for JJ.
As such, all he can do is send empty threats and hope the man wouldn’t press him on it.

“Right ofiser. Off coarse. JJ. Get cher ass back in the howsse. I’ll deal witchu lader.” The
alcohol quickly started to overpower the man’s rage as he stumbled back into the house,
leaning on the doorframe for support.
 Seeing his father struggling, JJ made his way to the door. After much doing, he was able to
assist the man further through the threshold and into the house. Shoupe prepared to get back
into his cruiser and turn in for the night, but a pair of arms wrapped tightly around his mid-
section halted his advance.

Just as quickly as they appeared, did they disappear. Shoupe whipped around and saw the boy
looking anywhere but towards him.

“I uh…forgot my sour patch kids in the car! Yeah! Don’t get the wrong idea police man!”
The words spilled out of JJ’s mouth as he quickly swiped his bag of sour patch kids and ran
back into the house.

Maybe, Shoupe thought to himself; Maybe the kid would be alright. He hoped for it to be
true as he got back in his car. He prayed for it to be true as he drove back, finally finishing his
long night. And as he laid in his bed, slave to the sleep soon to overcome him, he knew in his
heart that it was true.

Chapter End Notes

If you need help imagining the Birthday pie, imagine like a McDonalds or Checkers pie.
Like that really small one that's the size of a dollar bill.

Also I wrote too much fluff this chapter. Need a lil bit of suffering next chapter. Just a
dash*
End Notes

I've written a total of 1 time before so forgive me if this is ass. Critique is welcome and
appreciated. Other than that, hope you enjoyed!

Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!