Chapter Eighty-Five

Claire rested her chin on John's head as they drove back to the house, feeling how he leaned into her as the adrenaline ebbed out of his system. She rubbed his back, feeling how he flinched when she pressed to hard on a bruise. "Sorry." She glanced over at Dominic, noticing how he leaned on Clarissa much like John was with her.

John squeaked, grabbing Claire's attention from his cousin. He looked up at her, trying to convey what he wanted to say with his eyes.

Claire gave him a puzzled look, unsure of what he was trying to say. "I'm sorry John, I don't know what you're trying to tell me."

John opened his mouth again, trying to force the words to come. He tried again, and again to form the sounds he needed, only becoming more and more frustrated with each failed attempt. After several tries, he gave up, letting his fist fly into the seat in front of him.

Claire took his hands in hers, looking into his black eyes as she tried to calm him. "John, you'll have to write it down for me." She kissed his nose, jumping as his mouth slammed into hers. She let him take out his emotions on her, knowing that kissing was the best way for him to figure out what he was thinking other than when he was writing lyrics or poems. She moved her mouth with his, letting his anger and frustration be channeled into a passion for her. She pushed her fingers into his hair, feeling the warm press of his body against hers as he tried to get even closer to her.

Thomas watched the two a few seats ahead of him, knowing that John was only trying to calm himself and take out his emotions in a nondestructive manor, and that if he tried to separate them, he might trigger John into a seizure or worse from his already fried nerves. So, he watched in pained silence.

John tried to make a sound of pleasure to let Claire know he was feeling better, but nothing came out. He kissed her harder, squishing her body against his as he tried to get impossibly close to her.

Claire gasped, feeling something in John's chest shift. "John, did something move?" She pressed her hand to his sternum, gently feeling over his chest to find any bones that were out of place.

John jumped as she pressed on a particularly sore spot, catching her wrist in his hand to stop the pain.

She nodded, untying the wrappings on his torso to see what the surface damage was. She ran her hand over his bruised side where the drug lord had kicked him, tracing her hands over his skin as she tried to find what had shifted.

Chris slowed the bus, stopping just outside of the house and letting everyone off. He patted Andy's shoulder, showing how proud he was of his son for trying to keep John safe. "You did good."

Andy watched as his friends limped into the house, keeping a close eye on John as his limp seemed even worse than his bad days. "It never should have happened." He growled, letting his mother take his hand in hers.

"You did your best to help them." She smiled, kissing her son's head. "That's all you can do."

Thomas reached for John as he bolted to the back door, noticing he grabbed his hand wraps from the counter as he blew by. He held a hand out to stop the other adults rushing after the teen, knowing what John felt he had to do. "Let him go." He heard the garage door open, knowing that John had opened the big one so he could move his motorcycle out of the garage and have more room. "He's gotta figure this out."

They walked to the living room, not noticing as Amelia pushed the back door open and ran after her hero. She listened to John's fingers slide over the cotton wraps as he pulled them over his hands, peaking around the corner as John tossed his flannel onto the bench to get more range without the fabric around his shoulders. She watched as he balled his fists, hitting the bag with as much force as he could get out of his exhausted body. She slowly stepped inside of the garage, walking as silently as John did most of the time so that he wouldn't know she was there. She balled her tiny hands, copying John move for move. She stayed there for almost an hour, until she noticed that John was wearing himself out as the sweat shone on his back. She smiled, walking back to the house and running to the living room for Clarissa. "Aunt Clarissa, John's tired and needs to come inside."

Mary jumped up, sighing in relief that her daughter had been with John. Then the idea that she'd been with John while he was so emotional got her heart pumping. "He's okay, right?"

Amelia nodded, remembering John's sweat-soaked form as he punched the bag. "He's just tired."

Thomas stood, knowing that it still might not be the best idea to go to John. "I'll go see if he's ready to come in."

Thomas watched as John guarded his face, noticing that his stance was almost like that of a pro boxer, with the hint of a street fighter in there. He smiled as John faked a left jab, coming back with a hard right hook. He remembered going to his friend's boxing matches in high school, watching John was a lot like that, except for the fact that John had been forced to teach himself out of the need to survive. He looked at the scars lacing John's back, taking in the lines that were obviously from the bike chain he'd been whipped with, and the others that looked like glass or a knife of some sort. "John?"

John jumped, dropping his hands as his brain sent to signal to his body that he was safe.

Thomas walked inside of the garage, smiling as he saw that John's hands were wrapped perfectly to avoid breaking the metacarpal bones in the back of his hands, or tearing up the skin on his knuckles. "You're getting good at that."

John shrugged, his brow furrowing as Thomas opened a box and pulled out some gloves with huge pillow looking pads on the palms. He watched as Thomas pulled them on wondering what he was doing.

Thomas smiled, holding his hands up. "Hit them."

John searched Thomas for any sign that this was a trick, wondering if he was trying to punish him for something.

"John, it's just an exercise. I want you to hit the padding on my hands, and dodge when I make a swipe at you." He smiled as John seemed to get it, watching as the teen balled his fists and lit into the gloves, dodging Thomas's slow swipes perfectly. "That's it!" He laughed as John's eyes seemed to lighten with joy at the game. "Alright, I'm gonna speed my swipes up a little." He let John give a few more punches, taking a swipe at his head, chuckling as John dodged it without a single flaw to his form.

Clarissa and her daughter smiled at the boys, watching as John ducked under Thomas's hand and popped back up a second later with a few good hits to the gloves. "They're something else." She chuckled, pulling her daughter closer.

Claire nodded, noticing that John's stress was melting away with the new activity. "I'm glad he's okay."

Clarissa laughed as John grinned, his hit's speeding up with Thomas's swipes. "Me too."