Chapter Two-Hundred and Eighty-Five
Asher rushed toward Leon, throwing a hard punch like John and Dominic had taught him, right into Leon's gut. "Cut him down!" He ordered, grabbing the knife as the cop's belt and swinging it in a wide arch over John's head.
His nephew fell with a thud, his body lying in a heap on the tile.
"John!" Clarissa bolted to John's side, taking the knife from Asher and slipping it under the noose around John's neck. "Breath!" She sliced the rope, a broken sob escaping her lips at the weak, pitiful gasp of air that the teen took. "Oh baby…" She cried, tracing her fingers over the bruised, torn, bloody skin of his neck. "Open your eyes for me." He moved him slightly, stopping when Sara placed a hand on her arm.
"Don't move him." She ordered, taking John's head in her hands to keep him from damaging his neck anymore. "If he's moved too much, it could paralyze him… if he isn't already…"
Clarissa's eyes turned to pure fire as she pushed herself off of the floor and marched over to Leon. She slapped him across the face, shoving him into the wall as hot tears streamed down her eyes. "Leon. So help me, if John wakes up, you'd better hope that he counsels mercy. If he doesn't, there will be no place on this earth or below it that you can hide."
Thomas's head snapped over to where John was fighting for breath, biting his cheek until he tasted blood. "Leon, we're pressing charges for attempted murder. We'll see you hanged for this."
Clarissa held John's hand close to her cheek, tenderly kissing his scarred and bruised knuckles. "You're gonna be okay…" She whispered, lifting her gaze to Ryan as he checked John's ventilator. "How can someone do this?" She asked, looking away as Ryan pulled the tube from John's throat.
He shrugged, opening John's mouth and shining a light into his throat. "His trachea's still swollen but I'm gonna see if we can just switch him onto a canula for now." He touched John's neck, carefully adjusting his head to make sure that his neck was properly supported. "I'm more concerned about his vertebrae in his cervical curve." He placed his thumbs on either side of John's face, gently holding him still as Natasha the nurse helped him fit John with a canula and get the hose attached to a oxygen tank to pump air into his lungs.
Clarissa swallowed as she watched John's unconscious body lay unnaturally still. It killed her to see him like that, so still when he was normally so active. John was always moving, always full of life, always finding some way to get into trouble. "When do you think he'll wake up?" She asked, moving back to her seat and taking his hand in hers.
Ryan shook his head, sighing as he told her the awful truth. "I… I don't think he will."
John placed a hand on his head, sitting up to see that he was surrounded by clouds. "What the?" He blinked, turning slightly to see none other than Jesus Christ himself beside him. "Did… did I die?"
Jesus chuckled, patting John on the shoulder. "Not quite yet. But, it's your choice. You can stay here, in Heaven, or you can return to the world. But know this, if you return to earth, your life will not be an easy one-"
"Send me back." John gasped, knowing that Claire needed him as much as he needed her. "I want to go back."
Clarissa rested her head on John's hospital bed, able to feel his hip against the crown of her head. She bolted awake as she felt him move, gasping at the sight of his dark eyes. "John!"
"Momma…" He smiled, his voice barely audible as he fought to speak.