ep. 9 ~ two in one

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~~~

that night, as The Pogues opened the bag that Luna had retrieved that afternoon, a somber mood of apprehension hung in the air.

john b's dad's compass.

whilst Luna had never known big john, and, in fact, hardly knew the story around his disappearance she could still sense the close nature of their father/son relationship. she understood that and tried, in her own way, to provide comfort and companionship for john b however she could that night. she certainly wasn't going to be heading home anytime soon.

pope and jj felt similarly guilty, a feeling they rarely shared, for their previous little outbursts on the pier about the uselessness of what they'd found. so they'd tried their best to create some form of dinner for john b, not that there was much to do that from.

kie didn't really know what to feel. she'd known big john and she knew the close bond he and his son shared so, whilst she missed him, she couldn't imagine how much john b missed him. she'd be lying if she say that wasn't why she thought he was imagining his father still being out there. honestly she pitied john b and wanted desperately to help. but she also felt a certain level of rejection from the group, and couldn't deny the slight feeling of being marginalised that came with the induction of a new girl to the group.

perhaps she'd talk to Luna about it...

~~~

I have to admit, i'm very grateful that john b gave me somewhere else to sleep for the night; going home wasnt on the table for me. in fact it was so far off the table that it was six feet underground.

i am less grateful, however, to be woken up by john b stumbling past the sofa bed in the dimmest light of dawn, ladened down by the cameron's scuba gear. after his rushed apology i realise i am actually kind of grateful for him waking me up in the end because i have to work this morning.

when he gets back i won't be here: i will be at hayward's. working my first summer shift (i have a lot).

"hey, mr popes dad." i grin at him as i duck through the back entrance.

"you really didn't know that already?" he asks, slightly puzzled.

"i mean not really. i never spoke to pope till this here summer."

"the boy likes you you know." he smiles at me, but quickly clarifying when he sees my face "no no, he likes you bein' with their group. says you call him pops, it's a good friendship y'all seem to have."

"oh i'm hardly that level yet, just tryin' to be less alone." i grin, dismissing his frown quickly with a wave of my hand and a crate of beer that i lug out into the shop for shelving.

hayward follows me out, still looking skeptical. and it's now that he questions me about the bruising around my face. these are questions i negate to answer however, which only earns me a disapproving look.

"i'm good. i mean, don't worry about my hayward, you got enough worrying to do with your own kid."

"that's true- hey, where is that boy?"

"beats me." i shrug, not having seen him since he left john b's last night. hayward excuses himself to go track pope down and i spend the next few hours peacefully stacking shelves and serving customers with a smile.

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