The Strays ⎈John B Routledge⎈

Epilogue 1: A Series of Events

Epigraph 1: A Series of Events

August 9th:

Luke Maybank had been in the ICU for a week now. The twins were still in a state of shock, not really knowing what was happening. They'd spent the week alternating between spending time with John B at the tiny cabin and keeping to themselves at the Chateau. The time had passed slow and fast at the same time and no one could get through to them. The two were supposed to be at their aunt's; the lie they told the hospital staff. Little did the doctors know, they hadn't heard from their aunt since their mother took off. Of course, Peterkin knew that, but she didn't feel the need to get in the middle of it this early on. She knew where they were staying.

August 16th:

It had been two weeks. Two weeks of sitting around trying to figure out exactly how they felt. Luke Maybank was on life support and CJ wanted to rejoice, but instead, she felt a pit in her stomach and found herself zoning out on more than one occasion. JJ was worse. He didn't want to rejoice, but part of him felt a relief that their father might be out of their lives soon. The rest of him was twisted up with grief and anxiety, terrified of losing his father. Both were filled with mass amounts of stress and the Pogues couldn't count how many times the two had disappeared - separately. They would go to John B's church, or the hospital, or sometimes secluded parts of the beach. Wherever they were, they were pacing.

August 23rd:

Three weeks. CJ had stopped pacing. Much like with the entire situation with their father, Claire Jones had come to terms with the fact that her father was dying. She had come to terms with the fact that she hated him even more now for getting off easy. For once, she hoped that she was wrong about her beliefs and that there was some sort of devil, just so her father could be tortured in the afterlife. She hoped he would be made to feel like a horrible human being for what he did to his children, and others he'd screwed over. But most of all, she had come to terms with the fact that it felt like utter shit despite the fact that she hated him.

The relief was burning in her gut, but buried deeper was the harsh realization that she would be an orphan. That JJ would be an orphan. Sure, their mom was probably around somewhere, but she'd been left behind long ago. Their only family would be their friends; officially. So, CJ stopped pacing. She stayed alone most of the time, but she sat, staring off into space as thoughts ran rampant in her mind.

August 26th:

JJ was a mess. They were supposed to start school today, but neither of them could stomach going. The doctors had started talking about pulling the plug. While JJ now spent his days pulling at his hair, CJ had thrown up. John B knelt beside her outside the treehouse, holding her hair back as she upchucked all the food she'd managed to eat. It didn't seem right. Putting a grown man's life in their hands. Even if that was where it should have always ended. They were just teenagers, but being the only next of kin left, the decision fell to them.

JJ had no idea what to do. He was utterly torn, causing him to lash out and hit things; one of the biggest reasons the Maybanks isolated themselves at times like these. He'd gotten caught in a panic attack or two, but one of them had been quickly remedied by his sister sitting at his side. One of the few times they isolated together. Tears had been shed and yells had been released and the blonde still hated what was happening.

He needed more time.

More time for his father to change.

More time to play ball and share a beer.

More time to have heart to hearts.

He needed more time.

Their time was up.