Chapter Two-Hundred and Fifty

Clarissa brushed John's sweat-soaked hair back from his face, kissing his brow to try and give him some comfort in his coma. Christmas Eve was tomorrow, and it almost looked like they would be celebrating the New Year with him in the hospital. "Johnny… Pumpkin… please wake up." She sat on the edge of his bed, holding his hand to her heart. "Claire misses you… we all do." She touched an IV lead in the back of his hand, kissing the split and swollen knuckles.

Thomas placed his hand on her shoulder, setting the cool cloth on John's brow as an attempt to bring his fever down. "Just give him time." He whispered, wrapping his wife in a hug. "He's been through a lot."

She nodded, adjusting the blankets over John's bare chest. "How's Phoebe?" She asked, placing her hand over the bullet wound on John's side where the infection had started.

He sighed, remembering the nightmares. "She stopped sleeping." He lifted John's shoulders slightly, pulling him up on the bed to prevent bed sores. "I think that she's slept for maybe… four hours in the last two days."

"Asher and Sara?" She picked up her tray of food that the nurse had brought her, picking at the mashed potatoes and the pitiful piece of chicken. "Have they decided yet?"

He shook his head, remembering when Beverly had told them that she was pregnant again. "They're a little nervous about taking a kid in."

She rubbed her eyes, taking her husband's hand as he offered her a dance. "I just want him to wake up…" She leaned her cheek against his shoulder closing her eyes as she listened to his heartbeat. She gasped as the beeping of the heart monitor changed, rushing back to John and tucking her hair being her ear as she touched his chest. "Johnathan?" She asked, her dark eyes searching his face for any sign of life. "Baby, can you hear me?"

Thomas stood back, knowing that John would be scared when he came to. "Clarissa… don't startle him…"

John's eyelashes fluttered, the brown of his eyes shining up at her. "Momma…" He croaked, smiling as her soft hand cupped his cheek.

"Good morning, Sweetheart." She smiled, kissing his forehead and brushing his hair behind his ears and running her fingertips down the bottom of his jaw. "How are you feeling?"

He gave a microscopic smile, feeling the sweat soaking his body. "Like I got hit with a big ass eighteen-wheeler…" He coughed, yelping as his side ignited in pain. "What happened?"

"It's a long story." Thomas smiled, taking the rag from John's head to cool it off again.

Claire helped John into a wheelchair, smiling when Ryan took the IV leads out of his arms and hands. "Comfy?" She asked, helping him adjust his feet so that she could push him down to the small waiting room that they'd requested to celebrate Christmas in.

He nodded, taking her hand in his and gently kissing her fingertips. "Thank you…" He breathed, his body completely exhausted from the war between his immune system and the infection that continued to rage in his wounds.

She smiled, touching the fading hickey on his throat. "Jacob really got a whore for you?"

He bowed his head. "He wanted me to forget about you… he wanted me to fight harder."

"I'm glad you're alive…" She kissed his ear, pushing him out of the room and into their Christmas party.