Pancakes for dinner - JJPOPE

Chapter twenty

Mere days pass after the trial before JJ gets the call that his 'home' was going to be redone. Everything that belonged to him, if not removed, would be given over to the dump or hospice.

Though the house held many traumatising memories, JJ was desperate to go back and collect his things. His clothes, his photo albums, the frames filled with butterflies and moths he used to collect on his tracks to and from school. At first, Pope was highly against the idea, claiming that JJ had been through enough already and deserved a few days to breathe and take control of his life once more before going back to where it all started.

JJ, of course, disagreed. Arguing that he had had enough time to breathe and that Pope couldn't stop him from going over there alone. That changed Pope's mind fairly quickly.

"Are you ready to go in?" Asks John B, turning to face JJ from his space beside the shorter male.

JJ nods, forcing a tight lipped smile. "Yeah."

Filing in one after the other, JJ and the rest of the gang enter the withering home, tripping almost instantly on empty beer cans and bottles. Pope sticks to JJ's side like glue, eyes wide and fearful at the sight of his boyfriends childhood home. Splatters of blood cover the walls, paint chipped and wallpaper ripped. Holes follow suit, along with stains and shards of glass sticking out viciously.

JJ and John B seem to be the only ones unphased by the state, yet, hidden within JJ's chest was a sickness he was struggling to push down. The others knew about the abuse and the alcohol, but John B was the only one who truly knew what JJ's house looked like. Knew which stains were blood and which were not, knew exactly when each hole had occurred. John B knew everything, and JJ had been hoping that it would stay that way.

Looking over the blood on the walls, flashes of memories click through JJ's mind. Luke punching him, holding him against the wall, slamming JJ's head so hard into the wall it made an indent within it. JJ traces his fingers over it, biting his lower lip to keep the tears at bay. He had cried enough already. It was time to move on.

Heading off down the hallway, Pope by his side, JJ enters his bedroom with heavy shoulders. It was in an even worse state than the last time he had been in there, further items ripped across the floor and the door was almost coming off of the hinges.

"JJ." Whispers Pope, voice cracking with emotion.

JJ refuses to turn around and face Pope. Refuses to look at the expression he could only imagine was painting Pope's face.

Pope places his hand on JJ's shoulder. "JJ, I.."

"Don't." JJ shrugs the hand away, sucking in a deep breath. "Just don't."

Pope doesn't fight, no matter how badly he wants to. He doesn't. Just exits the room to give JJ his space and meets up with the others in the living room, sighing as his back falls against the wall.

John B is stacking photo albums and frames filled with dead butterflies and moths, Cleo is looking through boxes, and Kiara and Sarah are frozen in place, unable to truly let it sink in that this was where JJ grew up. It was impossible to them for someone to survive in such a place.

"How?" says Kiara, eyes glazed over with tears. "How could JJ live like this?"

Nobody has an answer.

"How could someone as happy and kind as JJ grow up like this and never let on just how bad it was?"

Pope shrugs. "It is absolutely terrifying the kind of deep suffering the happiest looking people are able to hide inside themselves." He breathes, scrubbing a hand down his face. "I don't think JJ would have ever let on just how bad it was for him, no matter what happened."