A/N: This is for everyone who feels spread too thin.

As always, enjoy x

Chapter 52: Milestone

Tuesday 6th December, 6.32pm, Galah Apartments, Washington Street, West Village, Manhattan

John never understood why she liked watching him work with his hands. But she did, even though the bed he was putting together wasn't 8-foot-wide for them; it was Taylor's. He declined her offers to help until she got the message the best thing she could do was play some music and sit on a chocolate bean bag chair in the corner. So the self-titled Van Hunt album was playing because Whitesnake put her to sleep and he wasn't a fan of Randy Crawford. "What's this I hear about a breast exam, John?" He pretended he didn't hear her and plotted some way to get back at Shaw. "You know you hear me, and I thought feeling up your patients was off limits."

"I'm undercover." He smirked, amused by her acute jealousy.

"Keep it up and they'll find you under a cover alright."

"You know, now would be a great time for a sandwich." He suggested, staring at Joss long enough for her to get the message.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. But first, gimme 5 more minutes." It was easy to work under her attentive gaze because she wasn't judging his work; she enjoyed seeing a man do for her what she could do for herself – and what she couldn't – because it reminded her of her father and how safe he made her feel. Josiah was the first man in her life to bear the weight so it was truly ironic she'd go on to marry a man who left her holding the bag for over two decades. But John was doing the John thing – whatever it was – showing up and filling in the gaps and being a man and letting her be a woman.

"Oooooooh, ladies first, ladies first. Oooooooooooooooooh, ladies first, ladies first." Evelyn's ringtone was unmissable; Joss avoided looking at the screen because her mother was still waiting for an apology that wasn't coming this side of Judgement Day. John had never witnessed a standoff between mother and daughter; he assumed Joss always caved because he knew first-hand just how forceful the Queen Mother could be. "Oooooooh, ladies first, ladies first. Oooooooooooooooooh, ladies first, ladies first."

John bit the bullet and answered. "Evelyn, always a pleasure…you sound well…I'm great, just setting up house…Joss?" Joss shook her head and mouthed, 'I'm not here.' "Joss feels like she's on a string." His reflexes were too quick for her mad grab for the phone. "…Because you want her to say sorry for something she shouldn't say sorry for…no, she didn't put me up to this…" Joss rubbed the spot between her eyes where a headache was forming. "What happened with Paul?" Her mother had excelled herself; if her daughter and grandson were keeping quiet, why not try the son-in law?

Joss held her hand out for the phone, though she appreciated his efforts it was a case of my mama, my problem. "Ma, we're not talking about him…ever." There was a harmonious sound on the other end of the line; the usual barrage of questions didn't come her way, there was silence. "See you on Sunday." John didn't know what to say. "So what'd you want on that sandwich?"

He stopped her from heading off to the kitchen. "Joss, I thought I was helping."

"I know, some things aren't that easy. Leave Ma to me." She smiled. "I have more experience."

7.53pm, Turner Hall, Emory University

The night before Sleurben's calculus exam – also known as Brock's day of reckoning – Hugh broke the terms of the 30-day suspension 21 days in and made contact because everyone knew it took 21 days to form a habit. The habit in this instance was being shunned. According to R.U.M.M. policies Brock was unaware of because he hadn't proved himself yet, this 'plea for moral reform' was a crucial stage in the development of any member and was designed to strengthen their commitment. Along with a promise that if he came back contrite all would be forgiven, Hugh 'strongly suggested' Brock rejoined his brothers through their 12 Days of Christmas outreach programme which meant skipping the holiday and the trip home to Jasper altogether.

Taylor missed that particular visit, and he wondered why Brock wasn't eating frozen burritos byt he box and burying his head in the book seeing as Sleurben had her foot on his neck. In desperation, Brock asked, "What'd you think I should do?"

Taylor could tell from the fear in his tone it was serious and he chose his words carefully. "Drop out."

"What?" Brock didn't know if he was referring to college or the group.

"Either way, you're gonna drop out. It's obvious." Taylor lay on the bed and through his stress ball in the air, playing catch by himself.

Brock was still in denial he could make it work somehow, despite the overwhelming evidence he couldn't. "You don't know that."

Taylor remembered his dad told him not to argue but he couldn't stand by and say nothing, so he took a page out of his mom's book with a leading statement; the same technique that usually made him snitch on himself. "If you go back you're gonna drop out like Hugh. And if you stay here…"

Brock could hear the foam ball hit the ceiling and couldn't take his eyes off it. "What'd you mean like Hugh?"

"What college did Hugh go to?" His question was met with silence; Hugh often talked about college communities as hotbeds of sin but Brock had never seen him near any literature that wasn't R.U.M.M. approved. "He dropped out; if he went in the first place."

Hugh nervously scratched his head and his face produced blotches of pink. "He knows things about me. Personal things."

"It doesn't matter."

"It does." Brock insisted.

Taylor thought if he was talking to him, that meant Brock was on the edge and could be tipped over, if he made an exchange. "What did you do? Look, it's not like I'm gonna tell your parents."

Brock took a deep breath. "My sister's best friend…Junior year."

"And? It's not a big deal."

"She was 14." Taylor ate his words. "So when I met Hugh and he talked about standards I got it; 'cause that's what I believe. Reminded me of home. Felt like home."

Taylor understood how he'd fallen in so deep so fast and why it was such a mess. "You know you can do that without flunking out, right? So, you can follow Hugh to Loserville and blow it for your whole family or, you can copy these notes for tomorrow and figure out the whole standards thing later."

Brock looked down at the calc notes as though they were made of gold. It was tempting, so tempting. And so was approval. "But what if they kick me out for good?"

"I'll be at library." Taylor puts the notes in his backpack. That's what I get for trying. "Deuces."

It didn't take long for him to come to his senses, about long enough for the door to shut behind his roommate who Brock called a 'stumbling block to overcome like those sick thoughts about his sister's friend. "Taylor, wait…"

8.14pm, The R.E.M. Group, Glendale, Queens

Traffic made Gina late. So much for being supportive. When Susan extended an invite to her because Paul said he wanted to improve the relationships he had left in his life, she accepted without thinking, but the drive from practice to the centre made her reconsider. Even after an abusive relationship at college and a divorce in her early thirties, the only counselling Gina had received was pouring her heart out to her best friend Lena. The room wasn't as clinical as she expected; the pale green walls and blue seating made it look like a contemporary office, warm enough and almost inviting. Almost. She took refuge in her green and silver Coach jacket, resting her cold hands in her pockets.

"Welcome, Gina. And thank you for coming." Susan greeted.

"Uhh, you're welcome?" Paul looked relieved to see her but that wouldn't last for long.

"I'd like to discuss your experience of staying with Paul and his father at the same time." Susan said, armed with a clipboard and pen that reminded Gina of being on her former Dean's list; which wasn't a sign of academic achievement.

"Me?" Gina asked. She thought being supportive meant being there, not participating herself. "Uhhh, it was a challenge. For all of us." Susan nodded and made a note she wished she could read from across the room.

8.37pm, The R.E.M. Group, Glendale, Queens

The sessions were short but it always surprised Paul how much they covered when he gave it effort instead of ducking Susan's questions because he didn't want to engage fully and let down his walls; walls he didn't know anyone else was aware of until Gina proved how observant she really was. "…Now I've met him, I think Paul's hands-off with his son 'cause Jeremy was too hands-on with him." Paul had never heard that before, not from Gina or anyone else, and the pun was definitely intended. "Maybe that's why he signed over the house, to break ties. So I get how Taylor feels." She stopped talking to Susan and caught Paul's eye. "He doesn't care about why you did it, he wants you to acknowledge you were wrong for doing it. 'Cause you never gave him a choice. You could've asked first, if he wanted it in the first place, but you just dumped it on him. Like Jeremy did by showing up like that." Gina exhaled and locked her hands between her legs, all out of words for the evening, and feeling more tired than usual.