everything about you •• jj maybank

thirty nine

"Pope? Kie?"

The sound of the door shutting jolted me up from a deep sleep, and I found myself clutching the picture of John B and JJ close to my chest. My eyes snapped open, and I stood still for a moment, wondering if I was just hearing things, or possibly still in a dream. A few moments went by, before I could hear footsteps again and I sat up, laying the picture on the bed and rubbing my eyes aggressivly.

"Hello?" I heard John B's voice shout and I quickly pushed off of the bed, adjusting my clothes and fixing my hair. My eyes spotted a sweatshirt sitting on the dresser, and I threw it on, suddenly feeling very chilly.

I opened the door and looked around, my arms wrapping around myself to stay warm. My tired eyes scanned the dark hallway and I cleared my throat.

"John B?" I called out softly, walking around the quiet house.

The creaking of the floors led me down the hall and to the room I had come to know as Big John's office. The sight of John B leaning against the door, his shoulders shaking as he cried, was enough to send me to tears myself. I clutched at my chest, my lip quivering softly, and made my way to his side.

He must have heard my footsteps, because he whipped his body around quickly, his face twisting into one of relief when he saw me standing there.

"Oh, John B," I whispered, reaching forward and wrapping my arms around him.

With no hesitation, the broken boy wrapped his arms around my waist, his head falling into the crook of my neck. I could feel his tears against my skin, and soaking the collar of my sweatshirt. He wept against me, his body shaking and heaving as he hands gripped my hips tightly.

"He- He's dead," he sobbed, his head shaking back and forth. I could feel his hands balled up into fists and I nodded, rubbing his back soothingly, "He's dead and I never g-got to say goodbye."

I pinched my eyes shut, feeling a tear escape and roll down my cheek. My other hand raised to the back of his head, and I rested it on his neck, hoping the touch would soothe him some more.

"I know. I know, I'm so sorry."

"I thought he was just missing. I thought he would come b-back," his breath jumped between every word and I nodded, squeezing him tighter, "I've been waiting here, for almost a year. A year and-"

His breath caught in his throat, a loud sob escaping and cutting off his words. He didn't want to say it- that his dad was dead. To put it out in the world would make it more true. The heart crushing reality of what happened to his father was too much to bare. My heart ached for him.

"I know, John B," I whispered, "I know. I'm so sorry. If I could remove all of this pain for you, I would in a heartbeat."

His cries only got louder and I felt his knees begin to buckle beneath him, his weight falling into me. I slowly brought us both down to the floor, resting on my knees. I let him continue to cry for as long as he needed, continuing to trace shapes along his back to comfort him, and running my hand through his hair.

I think this was the closest John B and I had ever been. But it felt completely natural. He was my family. I needed to take care of him.

After a few minutes, his breathing started to slow down and the sobs became fewer and fewer. He finally pulled himself away, wiping his eyes and nose with his hands. My fingertips glided along his arm- I knew that was calming him down slightly. I took a deep breath in before speaking.