#jimmason

Richard: 2/10

i need some courage before this one helluva man manhandle me.

imagine the sounds he'll make...

Jim: 0/10

are you kidding me? look at this fucking specimen.

idk if I'll let this man peg me or i'll peg him. I'll decide in the car

Michael: 0/10

i don't need a shot. I need holy water

men with long hair covered in blood is enough to make me go feral so...

Duncan: 1/10

just one bc he'll probably offer me one

the beard making me feel some type of way...

Xavier: 3/10

I will probably feel awkward that I'm making out w/ vanilla ice.

but after 3 shots I'll let him hit it.

lemme see what that tongue can do.

Andy: 1/10

again, for courage

also those thunder thighs

Jim Mason // the tribes of palos verses

YES YES YES!!!!!

Thank u for sending this! This was fun to do :)

How I feel about this character

Honestly I liked his character but I wish he showed more personality 😔 haha. I thought it was pretty unique how he was basically the villain of the season but had the least screentime of any character in the season 🥴 haha

Who I ship romantically with this character

I thought for a sec that one reporter girl duncan was talking too by the window would been cute with him but otherwise.. no one really hehe

Non romantic otp

Not really a otp but I wouldve loved to see frank and duncan interact?? I feel like they totally wouldve gone at each others throats lmao. The testosterone levels would be INSANE lol

Unpopulaur opinion

It's not really unpopulaur but.. I wish duncan had more screentime and more storylines? It's honestly disappointing how little he was in hoc 😔. Also yall dont kill me for this but I wish he didnt have facial hair 😶

What I wish wouldve happened

Chapter 1

A/N: Guys. I literally just watched the Tribe of Palos Verdes yesterday and I can’t even. Jim deserves better and I intend on giving him better. So here is my first chapter to what will be the death of me:)

Warnings: implications of suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 2.5k

"How long have you been at that hospital with that boy, Sonny?” 

I glanced over my shoulder to the boy that was laying in the hospital bed. He’d been in a medically induced coma for going on three weeks now. 

“He’s been here for three weeks. But I do leave, dad.” I spoke quietly into the phone to my father. I turned my attention back to the window that overlooked the ocean. “I just leave when he has company. I don’t want him to be alone.”

“You don’t even know him.” 

“A part of me feels like I do.” I chewed on my bottom lip. “I mean, I was on that beach for a reason.”

“Yeah, jogging like you do every morning.”

He didn’t understand. No one understood the weird connection I felt with the boy I found on the beach. 

“I have to go, dad. I have some stuff I need to do.” I said my goodbye to him before hanging up. 

The clock near the door to the room read 9:39p.m. Visiting hours for the hospital were over hours ago but luckily I was able to talk the doctor into letting me stay. Steph said it was my oddly green eyes that everyone fell for instantly or my friendly smile. 

I moved to take my seat in the chair underneath the window. I had a few schoolbooks spread out on the floor around the chair. They were for a class I had to take over the summer to ensure I would graduate the following year, but they weren’t the topic of my concern right now. I pulled my sketch book into my lap, folding my legs underneath myself, and looked across the room to the comatose boy.

His name was Jim Mason. He was a seventeen-year-old boy, the same age as me. His hair fell in loose chestnut waves around his face, his dark lashes resting upon prominent cheekbones. His skin was pale, but he had gotten some color back since I found him. I had studied his face time and time again, but I hadn’t been able to see his eyes. His sister, Medina, who I’d spoken to a handful of times, said his eyes were blue like the ocean. They were the prettiest blue she’d ever seen, she said. 

My gaze dropped down to my sketch book. I had been working on drawing a few surfers I had seen earlier that evening when I was outside waiting for his family to leave.

(”Don’t you have somewhere else to be, sweetheart?” One of the nurses I had seen probably a dozen times in the last three weeks asked me on my walk back through the hospital. She didn’t understand why I was spending so much time with Jim, with someone who didn’t know me, who I didn’t even know. I just gave her a little smile and nod of my had, not caring to explain to her that saving his life had also saved mine in a way.)

I wish it was easier to explain to people that finding Jim on the beach that morning saved my life. After having no sleep for three days and thinking back to the night I went to the party in San Marino two weeks ago, I was ready to give up and throw myself into the abyss I’d found solace in.

Three Weeks Ago 3:28a.m.

My eyes stung as the ocean breeze hit my face, almost instantly drying my tear-stained cheeks. My lungs burned and ached, begging me to stop running. I wasn’t sure how long I had been running but I just needed to go. I needed to be somewhere other than Palos Verdes. I needed to get out. The salty air made me nauseous and the sound of the waves was driving me crazy. 

I was about to give up, the tears in my eyes were no longer from emotional pain but physical instead. The waves crashing against the shore were beginning to look comforting, like they’d be a good place to end the miserable train wreck my life had become. 

That was when I saw him. 

He was laying on the sand on his back. I slowed down, my breathing labored and choppy. I hesitated to approach him, unsure of who he was. He could be one of those party kids I saw regularly doping themselves up on whatever they could get their hands on. He could be dangerous. 

As I got closer, I noticed that he wasn’t breathing. Panic set in. My heart, still hammering in my chest from my sprint, was now pumping from a new wave of adrenaline. 

I pulled my phone out and dialed 9-1-1 before rushing to his side.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“He-He isn’t breathing!” I choked out. My trembling hands reached out to check for a pulse. I don’t know if it was because I was shaking so badly, but I couldn’t find a pulse. 

“Who isn’t, ma’am?”

I couldn’t answer her question. I started to do chest compressions, remembering the training from the classes I took after witnessing the same thing happen to my mother. As I counted out each compression, I could still hear the dispatcher try to talk to me.

“Ma’am, what’s going on?”

After getting thirty compressions down, I tilted his head back and gave him mouth to mouth. 

“Please! Send someone!” A new batch of tears flooded my eyes as I gazed down at the boy beneath my hands. I started a second set of thirty chest compressions, ignoring the pain in my arms. I needed to keep going. I needed to keep going. 

After doing mouth to mouth the second time, he choked to life, coughing harshly and then vomiting. I helped him turn over on to his side, my hand rubbing his arm. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” I murmured softly as he threw himself back on to the sand. His eyes gazed up at the dark sky. It was too dark to really make out any of his features. His eyes started to flutter shut. I patted his chest to get his attention. “Don’t close your eyes, sweetheart.”

The sound of sirens caught my attention. I looked up for a brief second to see if I could make out where they were coming from. I looked back down to the boy to see he was gazing up at me with hazed over eyes.

“You have to keep your eyes open, sweetheart.” I smiled softly at him, feeling a little bit of relief flooding me. He was breathing. He was alive.

His lips moved but no sound came out. I wasn’t sure what he tried to say but he hand came up to hold mine that rested on his chest. 

The sound of the heart monitor beeping in the hospital room brought me out of my little trance. I looked up to see his eyes were open. His fingers were wound tightly in the white sheets of his hospital bed. 

It happened often. He would have dreams sometimes in his comatose state. The doctor said he couldn't dream. Comatose patients didn't dream, but Medina said she knew he was dreaming.

My gaze flickered down to my sketch book. I started to hum Sweet Child O Mine. It was arguably my favorite song. My mother used to sing it to me when I was young. Without realizing it, the words started to come out of my mouth in soft murmurs while I finished the sketch of the surfers.

"She's got eyes of the bluest skies, as if they thought of rain. I hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain," I paused for a moment, shading in a particularly dark part of the ocean.

"How long have you been sitting there?"

I nearly jumped out of my seat at the sound of Jim speaking. His eyes were closed and his hands still fisting the sheet beneath him. His voice was quiet and raspy.

"Just a few hours." I answered with a little smile, putting my pencil down and closing the sketch book. "I'll go get a nurse."

"No."

I froze at his words. His eyes opened and for a moment, stared at the ceiling above him.

"No. Just.... Just stay."

I nodded my head, tucking pieces of red hair behind my ears. I out my sketch book into my backpack and nervously bit my bottom lip. He turned his head to look at me.

"What's your name?" He blinked slowly, still dazed from just waking up.

"Everyone calls me Sonny."

"Is it a nickname?"

"Emerson is my really name." I answered quietly. The only person who ever called me by my real name was my mother.

"Emerson." He closed his eyes for a moment and brought his hand up to rub his eyes with his fist like a child. "Hi, Emerson."

“Hi, Jim.” I smiled softly, waving my hand just a little. 

“You’re her.” He opened his eyes to meet my gaze. “The girl.... from the beach.”

“Yeah, that’s me.” I nodded my head, nervously messing with my fingers. "You remember." I was a little surprised, not really expecting him to remember.

"I thought you were an angel." He admitted with a little chuckle.

"Far from it." I laughed a little awkwardly, glancing down to my fingers. My eyes caught sight of the pink scar across my left knuckles. I brushed my fingertips over the scar, remembering how I’d gotten it just two weeks before meeting Jim. “Is Jim short for something?”

He groaned softly.

“James.” 

“James.” I tested the name out on my tongue. It felt familiar and warm. He smiled softly at me.

“How long have I been here?” 

“Three weeks. Your dad and sister were here just a few hours ago.” I glanced over to the clock by the door. “But visiting hours were over so they had to leave.”

“Why didn’t you leave?”

I lost my voice as my eyes found his. My lips parted but no sound came out. I couldn’t find the ability to talk. What was I suppose to tell him? Was I suppose to tell him my sob story? Would I tell him why I was on the beach that morning? What my plans were to do had I not found him? 

The door to the room opened and in walked a nurse. 

“Well, look who’s awake.” 

“He-He just woke up.” I sputtered out, brushing a few pieces of red hair behind my ear.

As she started to ask Jim questions and tell him that his family would be notified immediately that he’d woken up, I decided it was best for me to leave. I gathered my things and slipped out behind the doctor that was entering the room. 

***

“You’re back early.” Reese commented as I closed the front door behind myself. He sat in the living room with his feet propped up on the coffee table. He was in nothing but his swimming trunks and a zip-up that was unzipped with the sleeves pushed up completely. His blonde curly hair fell into his sleepy eyes. He was my second oldest step-brother, but he’d been a part of my family for so long that he was just like a brother to me.

“Yeah.” I sighed softly, tossing my bag to the ground by the door. Usually, I wouldn’t make it home until well after midnight. I preferred to spend my nights either at the hospital with the stranger I found on the beach or on the beach just outside of the hospital. I always tried to stay away as much as possible. Home wasn’t bad, but whenever I was home and my parents were too, they’d pressure me into normal teen stuff. “He woke up.”

“Oh. Cool.” Reese turned his attention back to the TV. I shrugged off my jacket. “Are you gonna tell him you’re in love with him?”

“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes at him, throwing my jacket at him. He snickered and caught the jacket, tucking it underneath his arm.

“There’s pizza in the fridge if you want any.”

“Wheres Steph and dad?”

“Charity dinner.”

As I moved into the kitchen, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was an unfamiliar number. I furrowed my eyebrows together but answered anyone.

“Hello?”

“Sonny Carlisle?”

“This is her. Who is this?”

“Medina Mason. You found my brother, Jim, on the beach three weeks ago. He woke up just a few hours ago.”

“Yeah, I know.” I smiled a little, leaning against the island counter. “I was there.”

“You didn’t stay?”

“The nurse said his family would be contacted. I didn’t want to intervene.”

“You should come over tomorrow for dinner tomorrow night. I think he’d like to see you. He’s been asking about you since I showed up.”

My stomach tightened at her words. Was he interested in me? No, that was silly. He just woke up from a coma, Sonny.

“Why’s he been asking about me?” I moved to get a water bottle from the fridge.

“He just wanted to know who you were. I told him I didn’t know much about you. You kinda stayed away any time I came around to see him.”

“I didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes.”

“Hey, Sonny? Is that you?” Miles called from the balcony upstairs.

“I’m on the phone, Miles!”

“I know it’s late, Sonny, and I don’t want to keep you up.” Medina said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. That…. That sounds good.” I nodded my head. “Bye, Medina.”

“Good night, Sonny.”

The call ended and I put my phone down on the counter. I raked my fingers through my hair, closing my eyes for a few moments. I placed my hands on the edge of the marble countertop, bracing myself as I took a deep breath.

He was awake now. What was I going to do to distract myself from my own problems?

“You okay, Sonny?” Miles asked as he walked into the kitchen. I pushed myself off the counter and turned to face my little brother. He had short blonde hair that stood up in every direction. He must’ve been asleep. His eyes were a bright piercing blue. He was sixteen.

“Yeah, Miles. I’m good.” I nodded my head with a little smile.

“Her Sleeping Beauty woke up.” Reese teased, moving into the kitchen. He went to the fridge.

“Shut up, Reese.” My cheeks burned at his words.

“The boy from the beach?” Miles raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah. He woke up a little bit ago.” I nodded my head. “I’m going to bed, guys.”

“Jackson’s gonna be in tomorrow morning, by the way!” Reese called as I made my way up the stairs. “Then the real fun can begin!”

I nodded my head but didn’t say anything in response. It was our parents’ eleventh anniversary so Steph’s oldest, Asher, and dad’s oldest, Jackson, were coming in from out of town. Asher was coming from Portland and Jackson was coming from New York. Reese was the only adult child who stayed with Steph and dad after he turned eighteen. He was twenty and showed no signs of moving out anytime soon.

I closed the door to my room behind myself and tossed the water bottle down on to my bed. I raked my fingers through my hair, letting out a little sigh. My stomach began to churn as the haunting anxiety began to return at the thought of not having something to do in the morning. I usually would go walk on the beach from sunrise until around seven. Then for an hour and a half, I’d visit Jim and the morning nurses. The alarm clock by my bed read 11:18p.m. Sleep wasn’t an option. I was too worried about what I was going to do tomorrow.