𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 | outerbanks²

𝟢𝟢𝟢，WHAT HAPPENS AFTER?

CRUEL SUMMER.
000 | what happens after?

HOW DO PEOPLE MOVE ON?

━━ How do they just come to terms with the fact that the people who were once so imbedded into their lives and played a pivotal role in their everyday routine are no longer alive?

How do some people not question it for even a second and instead carry on with their lives as if practically nothing has changed? and how did they do it so seamlessly and make it looks so easy?

Because Renee couldn't. Even two months after the Johnathan B Routeledge and Sarah Cameron's ' supposed death' she still couldn't manage to come to terms with it.

Even after her and the rest of the pogues commemorated their best friend by engraving John B's name into the tree that sat in the backyard of the chateau and Renee herself now commemorating Sarah's life by wearing a necklace with a gold plated 's' constantly dangling from her neck — she couldn't stop the small voice in her head from telling her that some way, somehow, they were still out there — a slither of hope that was holding her back from the acceptance she needed to move on.

That same slither of hope was the reason she was here. The stuffy room of Esme Munday's (aka her therapist's) office — the sweat on the surface of her bare legs where the material of her shorts didn't cover were sticking to the leather of the sofa she had been more or less forced to sit on — it was one of the last days of summer vacation and although as much as she wanted to be at home, floating on her back in her pool in the middle of another extraterrestrial crisis with odd looks from her brother, mom and even their new dog Benji. Instead she was here —not by choice (obviously).

" Renee, do you blame yourself?" Doctor Munday managed to finally break Renee out of her small transfixion — she looked back around to focus her attention back at the petite redhead, sinking her body further into her boyfriend's zip up hoodie that was too big for her, getting another scent of JJ's aftershave coarse through her nostrils — the familiarity putting her at ease despite the smell of the leather and the stuffiness of the air in her current surroundings soon placed the heaviness back onto her shoulders.

" what ?" is all she could answer, her voice lame too tired from the weeks of insomnia to conjure up any enthusiasm.

" do you blame yourself?" The man asked again, Renee still slightly confused sat forward and knelt her elbows on her knees.

" do I blame myself for what?" she asked, confused on what she was supposedly meant to feel guilty for.

" John B and Sarah's death." His words were spoken so emotionlessly — taking Renee by surprise that he would even ask a question, although their demise was the entire reason she was there.

" no." she stammered, although the longer the thought stayed in her head the more she began to doubt herself and the answer she just spoke "maybe, I'm not...." she stopped speaking,

" I'm not sure."

Tasseling her fingers through her hair, she grunted although the doctor was far from satisfied with their session to even think about being done pushing at her extremely fragile buttons that were already splintering.

" do you blame yourself the same way you did for your fathers death?" he prodded further into her brain — something it didn't like, she moved one of her hands from its resting position on her leg and moved the hoodie back up to take another dosage of JJ's scent — surfing wax, his cologne coaxed with the teeniest amount of weed and even more slightly the scent of smoke, that's what home smelt like to her now.