Disclaimer: Unfortunately no, I don't own The Breakfast Club or any of the characters within.
To the reviewers:Thanks to all of you, it's nice to know that people read this and enjoy doing so. As always tell me what you think of this next chapter and fluff-fans don't be put off, there will be more to come!
CHAPTER 4- Consciousness and Pain.
Opening her eyes, the first thing Claire notices is that he is gone. She sits up sharply and looks around the room. His clothes are gone from the heater and the ones he borrowed are sitting on her chair. Looking at the clock, which reads 7.46am, she gets up and goes to the window. The rain has cleared and there are very few clouds in the sky now. She sighs, wishing that John had still been there when she woke up. 'But he wasn't', she reminds herself. 'What does this mean? Will it make a difference? How will he act when I see him next?' All of Claire's questions go unanswered and she is caught up in her troubled thoughts for a while. Shaking her head at her wishful thinking she heads off for a warm shower.
Meanwhile…
John lies in his bed staring up at the ceiling, contemplating the events of the previous night. At the time he had thought it was best to be gone before she woke up, unwilling to take the chance of her parents walking in and also scared that her reaction to him in the morning might be negative. He didn't want to see her look at him with disgust or disappointment in her eyes. 'You're such a wimp', he berated himself. He turns onto his side and feels the familiar tug of sleep at his eyes. He blinks a few more times before his eyes fall shut and he drifts into a dreamless sleep.
John wakes up, startled. He jerks upright in bed and sees a figure silhouetted in the doorway, the light from the afternoon sun shining in from the hall. Wiping the sleep from his eyes he realises that it is his dad and immediately panic rises in him.
"Johnny! Whatcha doin' still sleepin', huh? You deadbeat son of a bitch, get up!"
John turns his head to look at the clock on the wall, 'that can't be right, it can't be two o'clock already' he thinks. His father moves steps into his room, moving drunkenly towards John. He grabs John by the neck of his t-shirt and drags him out of bed, John finding his feet quickly so that he stands in front of his father.
"You ain't nothin' but a lazy-ass little punk. Scroungin' off me, well I don't think so!" He punches John in the face and John stumbles back, but remains on his feet. His father's fist flies into the side of his face a second time and the force of this blow throws John to the floor, holding his face with one hand. However, his father doesn't seem satisfied at this and kicks him in the stomach, hard. Once, twice and then a third time; causing John to let out a reluctant yelp of pain. He didn't want his father to have the pleasure of knowing that he had hurt him, but couldn't stop himself from crying out in pain.
His father, clearly pleased, leaves the room muttering to himself and soon John finds himself alone. John lies there, on the floor, eyes clamped shut, clutching at his stinging stomach.
He cautiously pulls himself up into a sitting position, leaning his back against the wall, willing the energy to return so that he can get up. Eventually John slides himself up the wall until he is standing, slightly hunched over. He stumbles to the bed, deciding against going to the bathroom to clean himself up incase he runs into his dad. Instead, he sits up in bed, leaning against the headboard he watches the clouds move in the sky through his window and thinks quietly. He wonders what surprises Monday will bring, and what changes, if any, will be made.
Hours later he slips off into a restless and exhausted sleep.
-:- So there you have it, chapter 4.Alot less fluff, but Monday at Shermer High might possibly bring some... :p
Please review and tell me what you think, any ideas are for future chapters are more than welcome.
--Musicalwonder.