Chapter Seventy

John stared at the wall, his eyes unseeing as he rubbed at the tight wrappings on his hands. He watched as the fuzzy memory of Jessica's hand wrapped around his manhood played in the back of his mind, her face somehow becoming Claire's even though he knew it wasn't.

Claire held a potato chip to his lips, praying that he would open his mouth and eat it; but he did no such thing. She sighed, looking at the guitar beside his dresser. "John, if you don't eat you can't play at the battle of the bands on Friday." She tried again with the chip, sighing as he turned away from her. "John-" She wrinkled her nose at the odd scent or something with sausage, tomatoes, and what smelled like way too much garlic in it. "What the hell is that?" She looked at John as he seemed to perk up at the scent, wondering what was going through his mind.

Dominic smiled as he saw his cousin's eager face as his eyes landed on the Bender Bullion, he'd cooked up for him. "I thought it'd been a while since we'd had some comfort food." He chuckled, placing the plate on John's lap and handing him a fork. "Made it with all of your favorites, chicken sausage, ketchup, potato skins, sweet peppers, and three cloves of mushed up garlic." He grinned at Claire's reaction, watching as John stuffed his face with the food. "I thought that would get him to eat."

Claire curled her lip at the smell of the food, happy that John was actually eating after nearly three days without food in his stomach. "How did you know that would get him to eat?" She asked, looking up at Dominic as she listened to John wolf the food down.

Dominic shrugged, taking the plate away from John as he began coughing as he got a little bit of food into his trachea. "We used to make food out of whatever we could find when we were at my parent's house." He slapped a hand on John's back, smiling as his coughing fit faded and he reached for the plate again. "We always called it Bender Bullion, basically it's anything we can find to eat all tossed in a frying pan with garlic and as much butter as we could get our hands on and cooked until it's almost burnt." He handed John the plate, grabbing his hand as he tried to dive in at the same speed. "Slow it down, Fido."

John flipped him off, looking over at Claire. "Am I grossing you out?" He asked, speaking the first words he had since the day before when he'd been begging for death.

She shook her head wrapping her arms around his shoulder and kissing his cheek. "Not any more than usual." She giggled, feeling him hand his plate to Dominic as he wrapped her in his arms and pressed a kiss to her neck as he leaned her back against the pillows. She ran her hands over his sides, feeling the wrappings around his ribcage as his lips tickled her neck. "Someone's feeling better." She smiled, turning his face to hers as she looked into his deep eyes. "I'm glad you're eating again."

He nodded, rolling off of her, and swinging his legs over the side of his bed. "I think I'm gonna try to perform on Friday." He stated, pulling on a pair of sweatpants as he started for the door. "Where's Mom?" He asked, taking Claire's hand as she walked beside him.

She shrugged, stepping down the stairs with him as Dominic followed. "I think she's in the basement."

John nodded, walking into the living room with her. "Hey guys." He smiled, waving at the Breakfast Club as they all beamed at him. "I live."

Amelia rushed over to him, wrapping her arms around his hips as her tears soaked into his pants. "John!" She cried, feeling him kneel down to her level. "You almost died." She hiccupped, remembering his cries for death and her mother pulling her from school to be with the family.

He hugged her close, kissing her head as she cried into his bandaged chest. "I'm not going anywhere." He whispered, brushing his fingers through her hair. "I just hurt really bad." He stated, unwrapping his chest to show her why.

She gasped at the black and blue skin of his body, placing her hands on his pecs as if she were trying to make the bruising go away. "Does it still hurt?" She asked, watching as he nodded.

He sighed, letting her trace the dark splotches of color in his skin. "Yeah, it still hurts." He held her hand over his heart, covering her eyes so she could focus on his heartbeat. "But you feel that?"

She nodded, feeling the strong pumping of the muscle deep in his chest. "That's your heart."

John smiled, taking as deep of a breath as he dared. "And that?"

She nodded again, opening her eyes as he moved his hand from her face. "That's your breath."

He grinned, letting her move back to his heart. "I can't breathe and my heart can't pump if I'm dead." He stated, wincing as her fingers pushed a little too hard on the bruises. "And my heart is going to pump for a long, long time."

She looked up at him, pressing her other hand to his heart. "It's strong." She smiled, placing her ear on his chest.

John chuckled, looking up at his friends. "I would hope so."

Allison smiled, leaning forward. "Do you remember anything?" She asked, knowing that he hadn't remembered Clarissa or Thomas when they'd visited him in the hospital.

John shook his head, looking at them all. "What happened?"