#i have canon stuff queued up okay . i promise

[linkedin-offficial]

yay! stew!

[amerie-wadia]

jj spends all the restitution money on a hot tub and misses his hearing. he doesn’t tell pope. 

a mayward one-shot that has been floating around my head since the first time I watched the show. i've read so many post-canon mayward fics (and they’re all great) but none of the ones i’ve read really address jj’s restitution money. i wanted this to be longer but i hate writing about legal stuff since i don’t understand it, so this is somewhat short. i don’t think i’m gonna make a part two, but i might write like an established relationship drabble in this same series/universe/canon. 

Pope knows it’s a bad idea to go to JJ’s house. He’s been there a handful of times before and usually Luke is off playing poker, working, or getting drunk at his favorite bar. This time is different, though. This time, it’s been two weeks since he’s heard from JJ and JJ has no idea Pope is coming. The last time Pope showed up out of the blue JJ was sending bullets through his childhood teddy bear.

When Pope parked his car in the driveway of beaten down grass and sand, it was like looking at still water. The only movement or sign of life surrounding the house was the soft sea breeze rippling through the branches and the tattered screens that no longer stuck to their frames. Pope hesitated before stepping out of the car.

Luke is a scary dude. Luke scares Pope more than anybody on the island and when he opens the front door, he looks pissed.

“The hell do you want?”

Pope figured it was obvious—that he had come for JJ—but Luke didn’t appear to be connecting any of the dots. Pope glanced over Luke’s shoulder, he had never seen the inside of JJ’s house. Dishes, dust balls, and bottles littered the living room where Pope could see. The smell was strong and Pope couldn’t tell what it was. It didn’t smell like weed, but it also didn’t smell like a cigarette. He figured it must be a mix of sweat, alcohol, and garbage. The only thing he could even compare it to was bile.

“Is JJ home?”

“No.” Short and stark. His eyes didn’t even blink and he looked ready to close the door so Pope quickly interjected, still keeping his distance.

“When will he be home?”

“He’s not.”

Which wasn’t even a full sentence and Pope couldn’t figure out what Luke meant by it.

“What?”

Luke rolled his eyes and sighed as if Pope was a nail under his foot.

“He’s not coming home, kid. So get out of here.”

“Why? Where is he?” Pope knew he shouldn’t push, especially with someone like Luke, but his answers were vague and peculiar and the last time Pope saw JJ was the night John B died. He needed to make sure JJ was okay.

“Wadesboro.”

Oh. Oh shit.

“What? Why?”

“Kid, I don’t have time for the interrogation. I have a business to run, so you get off my property before you make me mad.”

Pope thought Luke had been mad the whole time but now his fists were clenched and as much as Pope needed to keep asking, he knew the answers had already stopped coming.

“Thank you.”

“Get out of here.”

Luke had disappeared into the house by the time Pope was starting up the engine. Wadesboro? How the hell had JJ managed to get himself thrown in juvie in the two weeks since Pope had seen him? Not that JJ getting arrested shocked Pope, per se, but still it shocked him. Pope pulled out of the driveway and went fifteen over the speed limit until he got to Kie’s house.

“Kiara!” He called out as he padded his knuckles against her front door, ringing the bell enough times that his own father would give him a soft smack on the back of his head. “Kiara, open the door!”

He rang the bell two more times before the door opened and Kiara’s wide eyes met his own.

“What’s wrong?” she asked immediately, reaching out to tug him inside. Pope realized his hands were shaking a little bit when she wove her own through his.

“It’s JJ.”

“You finally heard from him?” She pulled him up the stairs and over to her bedroom. It was only the second time Pope had ever been in it and the lines were too straight, the floors too clean, and her shelves too neat for the room to feel like Kie’s.

“I went to his house,” he admitted and as Kie’s mouth opened wide to reprimand him, he continued. “He wasn’t home and his dad told me that he’s in Wadesboro.”

“Wadesboro?” Pope could tell she really didn’t understand because she still looked angry.

“Juvie.”

Her face dropped and she plopped down beside Pope.

“Why?”

“He wouldn’t tell me. What do we do?” Pope could feel the panic in his voice and Kie held onto his hand again and gave it a squeeze.

“We can use my dad’s lawyer. We can go visit him.”

“When can we visit him?”

“I don’t know. Here,” she said, opening up her phone to Google. “I’ll look up their visiting hours and we can go see him.”

“Do you think he’s scared?” Pope asked, because it felt wrong to ask if he was okay. He knew Kiara didn’t actually have a good answer for him. She just nodded and continued to type with her thumbs.

It calms Pope to watch her focused, watch her biting her lip. She finds the hours and tells Pope that next weekend they can go.

“That’s in four days away!” Pope exclaims, as if Kie doesn’t know and as if being upset could solve his problem. Usually, Pope is the one finding the solution but right now all he can think about is JJ sitting in a prison cell and an orange jumpsuit.

“Oh wait,” Kie interjects, softer and it worries Pope. “No, we can’t. He has to put us on a visitation list otherwise we can’t see him.”

“How do we contact him to put us on a visitation list if we can’t see him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Kie?”

“Yeah?” she asks, finally drawing her attention away from the phone and back to Pope. He feels himself near tears and he thinks she might be too. “Do you think this is my fault?”

“What? Of course, not,” she insists, her voice gentle and high and she squeezes his hand. “Why would you even think that?”

“I let him take the fall for me. What if he couldn’t pay back the restitutions and now he’s in jail because of me?”

“Juvie. He’s in juvie not prison.”

“it’s the same thing.”

“No, it’s not.”

“We have to help him.”

Her face softens again and she just nods, resting her head on his shoulder as if the idea how helping JJ has already exhausted her.

“We should talk to your dad’s lawyer, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe he can get us on a visitation list, at least.”

———————————————————————

“Who are you?” JJ asks when somebody who is absolutely not his lawyer takes a seat on the other side of the table. There is nobody else there but JJ can see the guard’s shoulder through the little square window on the door. His right hand is cuffed to the table and he’s sweating through his clothes and even he can smell his own odor. The man sitting down beside him has a suit and gelled hair and wristwatch. He smiles slightly at JJ and it makes him squirm.

“My name is Gabe Walters. I am your friend Kiara Carrera’s father’s lawyer. They’re really worried about you, bud.”

Bud sounds weird. Bud makes JJ feel even more uncomfortable and he wishes he had something in his hands to fiddle with.

“I already have a lawyer.”

“You have a public defender, is that right?”

JJ nods because, to be honest, he doesn’t know if that’s what the first guy was called. The new lawyer sounds very confident when he says it, so JJ just goes along with it.

“The Carrera’s would like for me to represent you. I think I can get you out of here. Is that something you would like?”

The way he worded that comment was sneaky and JJ knows this guy already thinks he’s a loose cannon. Maybe he is a loose cannon. He doesn’t want a pity lawyer. He has no idea how Kiara even found out he was in. juvie.

“I already have a lawyer,” he says again, quieter, because he really doesn’t know what to do and the guard outside has turned around to glance inside the room and it’s distracting. JJ adjusts the way he sitting and kicks as his toes.

“I can’t force you to do anything. But I have a lot more time and more resources than the lawyer you have now. I know, Jim, he’s a good guy. But he has a pile of cases so high he can’t see the top.”

JJ shrugged, wanting to say yes but also knowing very well that he couldn’t. He didn’t have the money to pay the restitution let alone pay a fancy lawyer to get him out of juvie for not having enough money.

“I can’t afford it anyway,” he finally said after a minute of silence that he was dying to break.

“I don’t think you understood, son. You wouldn’t owe me any money. The Carrera’s want to cover the legal fees.”

Fuck no.

“No, that’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“They shouldn’t have to pay anything.”

The lawyer sighed and rested his hands on the table. He was looking too deeply into JJ’s eyes so JJ reverted his gaze down to his lap, all too aware of how grimy and tired he looked. It was pathetic.

“I know how important pride can be, especially when you’re in a place like this where they’ll try to strip you of every ounce of what you’ve got. I sat where you when I was seventeen. I had a shit lawyer and I ended up serving three years for stealing a bag of chips. I didn’t have anybody in my life offering me a hand. You don’t have to take it, I’ll leave right now if you ask. But I’d think all of this over before you make your decision.”

It was patronizing, but comforting. JJ looked up and the lawyer’s eyes were still glued to his own.

“You think you can get me out?” JJ asked softly. The lawyer nodded.

“I can’t make any promises, but I think there’s a very strong possibility I could get you home within the next two weeks.”

Home. JJ wanted nothing more in the world to go home. His bed, his pillow, clean underwear, pooping with the door closed.

“Okay, then.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

———————————————————————

Kie’s dad’s lawyer gets her and Pope on the waiting list for the following weekend and she offers to drive since Pope is a terrible driver when he is anxious. Plus, he always goes exactly the speed limit and it makes Kie go ballistic. She picks him up Saturday morning and they stop at McDonald’s on the way there for breakfast.

Normally, Kie has music queued up for long car rides. Today the drive is silent.

After around five hours, they pull up to the detention center. It’s cold and lifeless and wrapped in a snake of barbed wire fences. There are boys outside playing basketball and walking around a track. Kie looks over to Pope and he looks paralyzed.

“If you can’t go in, it’s okay,” she tries to reassure him. She knows how scared he is of the prison. How scared he is to see JJ. She reaches out for his hand.

“I can do it,” he says, voice quiet but determined. Kie just nods and turns off the engine.

It takes them a few minutes to find the correct entrance and then they go through security, sign in, and take a seat in the waiting room. The chairs are made of plastic and leave imprints on Kie’s thighs but she can feel how close they are to JJ. There are a few other people in the waiting room, one looks like a lawyer, there is a set of grandparents, and a woman who is likely somebody’s mother. She’s crying and it makes Kie’s stomach churn. The two guards standing by the door are chatting, laughing. While the woman cries.

“Alright, this way,” a guard finally instructs the two of them down a hall. Kie can see windows beginning to line the wall ahead. It’s the visitation room. Her heartbeat increases and Pope squeezes her hand. “Only thirty seconds of touching, you cannot give him anything, and we have the right to escort you out immediately should the situation escalate.”

Kie isn’t paying attention to what the guard is saying because as he opens up the door to the room she spots a blond head of hair.

“JJ!” Pope cries, both of them dashing toward where JJ is sitting. He stands, turning to look at them, and they both stop in their tracks. He has a dark bruise lining his neck like a noose and his eye is purple. The smell is putrid. He doesn’t move, just blinks as he takes them in. A huge grin grows over his face and Pope throws himself at JJ.

Pope takes all thirty seconds so Kie just gives him the best smile she can muster up and takes a seat beside Pope. JJ won’t stop smiling and Kie wants to smile back, she really does, but he looks to terrible and Pope’s hands are shaking and there are way too many other people in the room.

“Are you okay, dude?” Pope speaks first, voice warm and grounding and it brings Kie out of her head and into the moment.

“Never been better,” JJ lies, giving them a shrug and his smile drops for a moment. She sees the exhaustion and hurt in his eyes before he brings the smile back, even if it’s just for a second it was there. “I mean, it could be a lot worse.”

“How long have you been here?” Kie asks. JJ doesn’t meet her eyes, just looks down at his hands and then up at Pope.

“Only a week.”

“What the hell happened?” she asks when he doesn’t elaborate.

“Missed my hearing. Forfeited my plea deal when I bought that stupid hot tub.”

Kie’s eyes are welling up by how cold his voice sounds. He’s still smiling but his eyes are hollow.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Pope asks, so delicately that Kie almost didn’t even hear it. “Do they let you use the phone.”

“It costs money to call somebody in a prison.”

“JJ,” Kie melts, feeling a tear roll down her cheek but she tries to wipe it away before anybody noticed. She knew she couldn’t get too emotional right now. She needed to focus on JJ right now.

“Call us tomorrow, yeah?” Pope asks, but it doesn’t sound like a question.

“There won’t be much new to talk about.”

“We’ve missed you.”

Kie nods her head in agreement, not trusting her own voice quite yet. JJ keeps his stupid fake smile on his face and scratches at the back of his neck. Involuntarily, he reminds them both of the bruising around his neck.

“How long are you going to be in here?” Pope asks.

“At least until my next hearing. Maybe longer.”

“When is the hearing? We’ll come,” Kie offered, her voice shaky but she tries to steady it.

“It’s two weeks from tomorrow,” JJ comments and Kie pictures him sitting in a cell and counting down the days. “And thanks, but since I’m under eighteen you actually can’t come.”

Pope lets out a trembling breath and Kie knows how hard he’s fighting not to break down. JJ still sounds and looks lifeless, hiding behind his smile.

There’s yelling from across the room and the guards are rushing over to break it up. They announce that visiting hours are over because of the fight and JJ loses his fake smile. The guards step closer to escort Pope and Kiara out but before they arrive JJ grabs a hold of Pope and tucks his head against his shoulder. Pope holds onto him for a moment—even kisses his forehead, which makes Kie really want to cry because Pope is the kindest person she knows—and then the guards pull them apart. They’re too aggressive with both of them and Kie wants to yell but she’s afraid and so she holds onto Pope and tells him that it’s going to be okay.

A guard manhandles JJ out of the room, his grip hard and frank, but JJ doesn’t look to put up a fight. He smiles to Pope and Kie. She can’t tell if it’s genuine but she gives him a small smile back until he’s being led out the door and Pope and herself out another. The visit was supposed to be a lot longer. Kie still has so much she wanted to ask.

The second they get in the car, Pope starts to cry. Kie shoves down her own desire to let it out and pulls Pope into a hug. His grip on her is tight and she buries her face against his chest as it bounces up and down to the rhythm of his cries.

———————————————————————

JJ calls Pope every day. He waits in line for usually about an hour or two until one of the phones is free and dials up Pope’s number—another guy had to teach him out to use the payphone, but it wasn’t that once he figured it out. Pope picks up after two rings every time. They talk until the guard tells JJ his time is up.

“How did the date go?” JJ asks since the day before Pope told JJ that he and Kiara were having a date night.

“It was nice.”

“High praise,” JJ jokes, and it feels so good to be light-hearted for a moment, to hear Pope chuckle through the phone. JJ feels hot eyes on his back from other guys waiting to use the phone but he curls toward the wall and clutches the phone close to his ear.

“Things are awkward between us. Like, we both care a lot about each other…” Pope trails off and JJ would let him finish but they don’t have an unlimited number of minutes.

“But?”

“But sometimes I wonder if us being together is actually a good idea.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Like, I care about her obviously. And we like spending time together but when it comes to the romantic stuff, it just feels weird.”

“She’s a bad kisser?”

“No! No. But, I mean, I don’t feel much emotionally when she kisses me.”

“But you feel it physically?” JJ laughs and he can feel Pope rolling his eyes.

“I’m being serious, JJ. I think we might break up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not going to affect the Pogues though. I mean, we’ve talked about it actually, what we would do if we broke up.”

“You know, talking about how you would handle a breakup in the first three weeks of dating usually isn’t a good sign,” JJ comments.

“You’re telling me. Have you heard any more from your lawyer about the hearing?”

“Nope.”

“Are you ready?”

“It’s not like I’m the one who actually has to do anything.”

“I’m ready for you to get out of there.”

“Me too.”

The guard tells JJ the time is up and Pope tells JJ he loves him. JJ says it back. It’s just something they do now.

JJ likes it a lot more than he would ever admit. He thinks about it when he sits back down on his bed. His roommate is reading a book, not angry right now like he usually is, and JJ lays down and stares at the cinderblock wall, thinking about Pope and Kie having to break up. Thinking about his hearing. Thinking about Pope. Thinking about his dad. Thinking about how he has to go to the bathroom but isn’t in the mood. Thinking about going home.

———————————————————————

Pope and Kie wait outside the courtroom, Heyward sitting them beside and Mr. Carrera. Pope has told his dad the day before that he was going to go to JJ’s hearing and just sit outside, in case they released JJ on the spot. Heyward had done a double take and then immediately picked up the phone. Pope had thought his dad was ignoring him and was annoyed until five minutes later he popped his head in Pope’s doorway and told him he got his work shift covered and he would come too.

Mr. C and Heyward talked about fishing quietly, blissfully unaware that Pope and Kie had broken up the night before. It had been a loving breakup—if you can call a breakup loving. Kie had agreed it would be for the best. She said she never wanted to lose their friendship and Pope had been eternally grateful for how amazing of a person his best friend was. He reached out for her hand about halfway through the hearing as he started to get lost in his worries. She gave it a squeeze.

The doors open and Mr. and Mrs. Thornton spilled out first. They were both standing too straight and it made Pope uncomfortable but they walked out with their lawyer and then JJ’s lawyer made his way through the doorway. Then Luke. Then JJ.

Pope felt like he had just lost one hundred pounds.

“You’re out!” Kie cried excitedly. JJ flashes her a big smile and this time it looked genuine. Luke said something to the lawyer and then reached out for JJ’s arm. The flinch was tiny, but Pope noticed it.

“JJ, it’s good to see you,” Heyward started, but Luke gave him a wild look and then tugged JJ.

“You can talk to your friends later. We need to have a chat.”

Mr. Carrera took a step in front of them to block the path to the exit.

“Our kids have been waiting here for two hours and would appreciate a moment to say hello.”

Kie’s dad had balls. Luke didn’t seem to care.

“I’d appreciate it if you took a step back.”

His words were vicious and JJ started down at his feet. JJ’s entire body was tense and he was biting down on his lip and Pope had never in his life seen JJ looked so scared. Pope’s chest hurt and he squeezed Kie’s hand.

“Take a step back. And don’t you talk to me about my boy again.” He turned to JJ. “Outside, now.”

Mr. C took a step to the side and Luke pulled JJ out of the courthouse.

“You know,” the lawyer said quietly to Mr. C—but Pope was good at eavesdropping and listened. “I know a good Children and Youth Services lawyer. If that’s necessary.”

Pope’s blood boiled when Mr. C just nodded and shrugged. What can ya do? There was a lot they could fucking do. Heyward lead Pope and Kiara out of the courthouse while Mr. Carrera talked a little bit more to the lawyer.

At least JJ wasn’t in juvie anymore.

“Have either of you ever met JJ’s dad?” Heyward asked as they walked outside. Kie shook her head but Pope nodded. “When?”

“About a week ago.”

“I don’t want you ever going near that man again, got it?”

Pope got it. Kie nodded too, even though Heyward had no control of her here.

“If you ever JJ say something that sounds off about it, I want you to let me know.”

It was too late for that, and Pope wasn’t sure if he even could tell his dad what he knew about Luke. What he figured was about to happen. It made him feel sick. But he agreed and so did Kiara.

“What an ass,” came Mr. Carrera’s voice as he approached the three. “Excuse my language, honey.”

Kie looked over to Pope as if to silently ask what they could do to help JJ. Pope shrugged.

“We drive all this way, provide him with a lawyer that actually gets his kid out of juvie, and he can’t even let the kids say hello?”

Heyward was mad, but Mr. Carrera seemed genuinely shocked. He must not have heard the rumors about Luke Maybank before.

———————————————————————

“How did the hearing go, baby?” Pope’s mom asks when they arrive home.

“He’s out of juvie.”

“Isn’t that wonderful. Maybe we can have him over for dinner one night this week to celebrate.” It’s the first time either one of his parents have ever asked Pope to invite JJ to their house. Heyward sighs behind Pope as he places the key ring on a hook and comes into the kitchen to start up the electric kettle.

“Pope why don’t you go and lay your suit across my bed. I can put it away for you,” his mom instructs. He knows that they just want him to leave the room so they can talk about JJ and his father. Pope wants to leave before they start asking him questions he’s not allowed to answer, so he grabs a cheese-stick from the fridge and makes his way to his bedroom.

He has two unread messages from Kie but he’s not really in the mood to answer them. He changes his clothes and places the suit on the bed like he was told. He opens up his phone and sends a text to JJ, asking him how he’s doing and when they can hang out. He doesn’t expect a response back tonight, but he hopes that he’ll get one anyway. He’s used to talking to JJ every day.

Pope waits until his mom calls him back into the kitchen for dinner. They don’t talk much about the hearing or JJ or JJ’s father during dinner. Pope finishes quickly, thanks them, cleans his dishes, and heads to bed. He’s wiped out from the day and he has to get up early to tutor a freshman in geometry the next morning, so he’s ready to get in bed and go to sleep by ten.

He comes very close to falling asleep when he hears a clinking sound. Then another. And another. It’s coming from his window. Kiara can’t throw for shit, so his mind goes straight to JJ and he’s rushing over to the window to pull the blinds up. Sure enough, JJ is standing in his backyard, throwing pebbles at Pope’s first floor bedroom window.

“Be careful, you could break a window,” Pope says as he slides the window up high enough for JJ to crawl through.

JJ’s not crying and he’s not covered in blood, which Pope takes as a good sign. As he stumbles to his feet, Pope sees the bruises peaking below the hem of his shirt. JJ tugs it down into place.

“Are you okay?” Pope asks because what else is there to say.

“Fine. I just couldn’t stay in that house any longer.”

JJ’s words are practiced and Pope knows they’re a façade, but Pope also knows this is not the time for an argument.

“Are you gonna stay for the night?”

“If that’s cool?”

“It’s good, I just need to go get the air mattress.”

“No!” JJ cries and reaches his hand out as if to pull Pope back. “I don’t want to wake your parents.”

“They’re asleep, they won’t hear.”

“Please, Pope.”

Pope isn’t sure if he has ever heard JJ say please in his life so he respects his wishes. Pope has a twin bed, so he’ll just sleep on the floor and let JJ take the bed.

“Do you want to shower or have something to eat?” Pope asks, trying not to sound too gentle because he doesn’t want to embarrass JJ. JJ’s eyes fall and he shrugs. Pope takes it as a yes.

“I’ll get you some food, the bathroom is just down the hall. Don’t turn the handle too far left or the water will burn you.”

JJ doesn’t say anything but Pope hands him a clean towel and heads into the kitchen to heat up some of the leftover mac and cheese. Pope wonders how much JJ ate in juvie. How much JJ eats at home.

He can hear his parents faintly arguing in their bedroom from the kitchen and tries to block it out but he hears JJ’s name and instantly panics.

“You think DCS doesn’t know about his father? Do you know how many times I dropped Pope off to elementary school and that little boy was bruised or bleeding? We have nothing to report that they don’t already know.”

“You should’ve heard the way he spoke today. The way he scared that kid.”

“I believe you, baby.”

“We have to do something.”

“We’ll have the boy over for dinner. As many dinners as he wants.”

It wasn’t really a fight, just louder than usual. The microwave buzzed and Pope removed the plate and fished a spoon out of the drawer for JJ. He took them back into his room even though he technically wasn’t allowed to have food in his room. And technically he wasn’t—JJ was. There was no rule that JJ couldn’t eat in his room.

And after the conversation he had overheard, Pope didn’t think his parents would actually be upset if they found out.

JJ walked back into the bedroom shortly after Pope. He was wearing the same clothes from earlier but his hair was wet so Pope figured he must’ve showered. Pope ushered to the mac and cheese sitting on his desk and JJ took a seat.

“It’s not as good in the microwave, but it would’ve taken forever to turn on the oven.”

“It’s perfect,” JJ hummed, shoving heaping spoonfuls of pasta into his mouth until he started to cough. Pope, unthinkingly, reached out to put a hand on JJ’s back and it caused JJ to jump out of his seat and he fell on his butt beside the desk. Wide-eyed and quick-breathed, JJ scooted further against the wall until it hit his back.

Pope took a step back and held his hand to his chest.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think.”

“I’m fine you just uh startled me,” JJ said, trying to sound nonchalant but his voice cracked and his eyes were still big.

“JJ.”

JJ swallowed and Pope noticed the spit up pieces of mac and cheese on the carpet. They would probably stain. JJ’s eyes had gone wet and Pope hesitantly stood before him. He held his hands up so JJ could see where they were. That they weren’t reaching out to hurt him. With his eyes locked onto JJ’s, he reached out a hand to help JJ up.

“I’m sorry,” JJ whispered, taking Pope’s outstretched hand and helping tug himself up. JJ looked to the floor where the mac and cheese had sprinkled. “Shit.”

“Don’t worry about that. Just eat slowly, okay? We have more if you’re still hungry.”

JJ nods and takes a seat in Pope’s desk chair, taking a significantly smaller bite of mac and cheese. If it wasn’t so hearting breaking it might be funny how the moment he begins chewing a tear falls down his cheek. But it is heart breaking and Pope doesn’t know what to do because he’s not good with words and he can’t touch JJ. He sits at the edge of his bed so they’re close, but he doesn’t touch. JJ doesn’t wipe his tears away, and he eats slowly just like Pope suggested.

He finishes what’s left on the plate and tries to steady his breathing but his chest is rising and falling rapidly and Pope notices the way JJ is fiddled his thumbs around the hem of his shirt.

“You take the bed,” Pope says, standing up and taking a few steps back so that he’s not in JJ’s space.

“That’s stupid,” JJ whispers.

“It’s not stupid at all.”

JJ looks up at him and Pope realizes he hasn’t actually stopped crying yet. Pope motions his arm toward the bed even though he wants to reach out and pull JJ into a hug. But he can’t. JJ stands and climbs into the bed. He lays above the covers so Pope grabs a fuzzy blanket from the upper shelf of his closet and sets it at the foot of the bed.

“If you need it,” he says. JJ pats the space beside him softly and Pope freezes.

“Please?”

His voice is barely there and there are still tears running down his cheeks and Pope is in absolutely no position to say no to JJ right now.

Pope slides into the bed, laying down on his side and sticking his hands under his head so that they’re face to face. JJ blinks, tears fall, and he reaches his hand out to the middle of the space between them with his palm facing up. Pope isn’t sure if it’s what JJ wants, but he pulls his hand out from under his head and places it on top of JJ’s. JJ grips his hand instantly and Pope feels relief wash over him.

“Are you okay?” Pope asks again, wondering if maybe in the dark JJ will have a different answer than he had before.

“No.”

“Can I hold you?”

Pope is surprised he even asked the question and wants to take it back the moment he opens his mouth. It sounds so stupid and JJ gives him a confused look and Pope feels like an idiot.

But then JJ mumbles, “Yeah,” and Pope doesn’t feel like an idiot anymore.

He reaches his free hand out above them and JJ burrows into the space between Pope’s chest and his arms and Pope wraps his arm down across JJ’s back. JJ’s tears are wet against his shirt and they seep through his skin. It’s sticky.

“I’m so glad you’re home,” Pope says, wanting to see JJ smile. JJ doesn’t smile though, only chokes on his breath. “JJ?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he whispers. It’s hard to hear him before JJ is speaking into Pope’s chest but he manages to decipher the message. “I never mean to do it.”

“It’s not your fault.” JJ doesn’t seem to hear and continues mumbling into Pope’s shirt.

“I didn’t mean to do forget the hearing or spend all the restitution money. I didn’t mean to.”

Pope’s heart is crumbling like rubble to ash and he can’t seem to hold JJ any tighter so he uses one of his hands to run circles around his back because it always calms Pope when his mother does it to him.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I didn’t mean to get John B killed or break up you and Kie.”

“You didn’t get JB killed, man,” Pope says, even though it feels weird to call JJ man when he’s holding him so gently. “And Kie and I didn’t break up because of you.”

JJ shakes his head and continues rambling as his cries begin manifesting into sobs.

“I didn’t mean to make Mom leave.”

Pope thinks JJ might be too far gone to realize what he’s saying at this point.

“I know,” Pope says, running his hand through JJ’s hair and then brings it to his back again to run his fingertips around. “It’s alright.”

JJ shakes his head again but he’s finished talking—unable to get anything else now that he is sobbing. His fingers are twisting Pope’s shirt and he can feel his nails lightly throw the fabric across his chest. It doesn’t hurt, but it reminds Pope that JJ isn’t just sad but angry too. That JJ isn’t just soft but has sharp edges and steep slopes.

“It’s alright,” Pope says again, brushing through JJ’s hair and across the skin of his arms as he tries to sooth him. JJ clings to him.

The sobs eventually die down and JJ’s hand loses its grip on Pope’s shirt. Pope can hear snores escaping his lungs and feels relieved that he’s fallen asleep. Pope holds him just as tight, taking the blanket from the end of the bed and uses his foot to pull it closer. He wraps it around them both—giving the vast majority of the blanket to JJ. He brushes the hair out of JJ’s eyes and tries to keep his fingers as far from the purple and blue skin as he can.

In his sleep, JJ curls closer to Pope.

Since JJ is asleep and Pope wants to scream but cannot, he chooses instead to press a kiss to JJ’s forehead. It’s all he can think to do. It’s not enough.

———————————————————————

tagging: @kikifromtheblock (if anybody would like to be added to a mayward taglist, feel free to lmk!)

[countessofsnark]

UHM HI.

Sorry for the lack of interaction these past couple of weeks. I did not struggle with anything RL - well okay, I am one month away from having furniture delivered at my now almost finished flat and so I’ve got a move to coordinate and that IS a bit of a big stressy deal but other than that, it’s more of a gaming obsession thing. I’m very close to level 101 in Overwatch and the first star that accompanies it. And at the same time, competitive season 4 placed me so low that I can’t even team up with one of my Overwatch friends. This has sparked my inner obsessive gamer to the point of insanity; I can’t think of anything but settling the score and restoring balance. But the rational part of my brain has regained control. Enough is enough. I can and will get there, but I need moderation. I need Tumblr back in my life. All I’ve been doing lately is reshuffling the queue. Wow. Yeah. No. I have a ton of fic to write, I have head canons that need to be fleshed out, all that jazz. And I need to catch up with you guys. Sorry, sorry sorry! As of tomorrow, I will say goodbye to this hibernation and finally catch up and start reblogging all the random and fandom stuff inbetween the queued escapist shit that appears on a daily basis. Promise!