Chapter One-Hundred and Nineteen
Claire walked with John through the front door to the house, rubbing Amelia's back as John pulled her coat and boots off. "Is she sleeping with you tonight?" She asked, knowing that John always tried to make sure Amelia got as much time with him as everyone else.
John nodded, his jaw stretching in a wide yawn as he kicked his own shoes off and started up the stairs. "Yeah…"
Claire smiled, as he carried the child to his room, imagining him as a young father with their own child. "I'll see you in the morning."
John placed Amelia under the covers of his bed, brushing her hair out of her face as he began to unbutton his shirt and get ready for bed. He smiled as she rolled over on his pillows, seeing her hug the stuffed owl he'd started keeping in there to her chest. He snuck out of the room on silent feet, walking over to the bathroom across the hall to brush his teeth and clean his face up so he didn't get grease all over his bed. He wet a washcloth under the faucet, rubbing a little of his face cleanser onto the cloth and scrubbing it over the portion of his face that wasn't covered with his beard. He watched as the black oil and grease disappeared, showing his natural dark skin and the lightening circles under his eyes. He could still see the effects of the meth on his face, his skin duller than it used to be, the circles under his eyes, and how he looked like he hadn't slept in years despite the fact that he felt like he'd been doing nothing but sleeping for the last few months.
He'd noticed that he tired out faster since he'd been drugged, and he hated that he could never control when he was going to pass out and when he was wide awake. He'd spent whole days asleep, and three days at a time wide awake and unable to wind down enough to even catch a few seconds of rest. Somedays he needed six cups of coffee to even get out of bed, and others he would be up at three AM without an alarm going off.
Clarissa poked her head into the bathroom, walking inside when she saw how John was looking at his reflection. "Hey…" She touched John's shoulder, feeling the thin scars just above his shoulder blade. "What's the matter?"
John leaned on the counter, running his thumbs over a dark line in the marble top. "I want this to be done…"
She nodded, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "It will be soon. You just have to give it time." She smiled, running her fingers into his hair. "You might not see it, but you're improving every day. A few months ago, you were so sick that I was afraid for your life every time you closed your eyes." She touched the circles under his eyes, remembering how dark they had been. "I never told anyone about this besides Tommy… but I lost my youngest child to a miscarriage when Claire was two, and I think that God brought you to us to help us heal that wound." She wiped a tear from her eyes. "And I was so scared that I would lose you too."
John turned to look at her, his dark eyes showing the pain he felt at her words. "That's why you didn't let me give up…"
Clarissa pulled his head down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You have so much more life to give, and you've got more love than I've ever seen in a boy your age." She watched as tears started to brim in his eyes, his lashes getting weighed down with the water. "You may not see it, but you are stronger than you think, and you have that love in your heart. You don't know it's there, but it is. You just need to learn to let it out and allow yourself to be vulnerable and risk getting hurt. And believe me, you will get hurt. There will be lots of heartbreak, but no matter what, we're here for you." She brushed a tear from his cheek, gasping when he swept her in a bone-crushing hug. "I may not have given birth to you, but you are my child, and I will help you through every trial and every fight you face. No matter what it is."
John hugged her closer, feeling her fingers trace over the skin of his back. He smiled as he breathed her scent, the scent he'd come to know as safety and security, the scent that a mother should have of cinnamon and apples. "Can you take this fight away?" He whimpered, hearing her sigh as she leaned her head against his ear.
"I wish I could baby… I really do… but this one is completely up to you. All I can do is let you lay with me and Thomas when they get bad, and hold you close when you hurt." She let him hold her as long as he needed to, never trying to push him away, even when he squeezed her tight enough to send a pain through her back. "But our door is always open to you. No matter what we will always be here, and anytime you need us we will help."
John nodded, his mind starting to haze in and out between sleep and fighting to stay awake. "Bed…" He yawned, letting her guide him to his bed and tuck him in like a small child who'd just had a bedtime story read to him and a big glass of warm milk.
Clarissa kissed his head, brushing his hair back as he slowly drifted to sleep. "Goodnight, Pumpkin." She whispered, gently rubbing his bicep as he began to snore. "Sweet dreams baby…" She turned his lamp out, leaving his door open as she walked downstairs to speak with Asher about what he'd found out about the boys' pasts while he'd been in Chicago for the last few days. "I love you."