Chapter Two-Hundred and Eighty-Six

Clarissa fussed around John's room, gently fluffing his pillows, adjusting his blankets, refilling his water bottle, moving his IV leads when they got in the way.

"Mom…" John croaked, barely moving his head to look at her. "Stop."

She sighed, taking his head in her hands and carefully moving him back to where his neck was supported. "I'm sorry, Pumpkin…" She kissed his forehead, her fingers barely brushing against the torn skin around his neck. "I was just so scared, when I saw you…" She couldn't finish the sentence, the image of John hanging by his throat still too fresh in her mind.

He lifted his hand to hers, closing his eyes as she cried into his chest. "Did… did he show you?" He asked, hating the way his voice rasped.

"Show us what?" She lifted her gaze to his face, looking into those dark pools that were his eyes.

John winced as he swallowed, his head rolling to the side. "Made me write a suicide note…"

She moved his head back, her brow furrowing with his words. "Leon made you write a suicide letter?"

He gave her a thumbs up, his throat too sore to speak anymore.

Thomas smiled as he watched John flip through the channels on his crappy tv that the hospital provided. "How's Grumpy doing?" He chuckled, not missing the glare John shot him out of the corner of his eye.

"Fuck off." John growled, moving his jaw slightly in the groove of his neck brace.

Thomas shook his head, patting John's shoulder before taking a seat in the recliner. "Bored?" He asked, looking up at the tv as John flipped through the channel selection yet again.

John rolled his eyes, finally becoming frustrated and throwing the remote to the side. "No. I'm staying busy as a bumble bee." He curled his lip in disgust, aching to get out of bed and actually do something. "Fucking hate this shit." He sighed, letting Thomas prop him up on another pillow and place another blanket over his body to keep him warm.

"Don't worry, you'll be home in no time." He patted John's chest, milling about the room and cleaning a few small things up. "Besides, the quads, Amelia, and Phoebe all have the flu right now. So, I don't think you'd want to be home anyway."

"Rather be sick and puking than stuck in bed all the time." He motioned to the catheter bag at the end of his bed. "I can't even get up to take a piss." He squirmed slightly, the catheter irritating his urethra and telling him that it needed to be replaced. "God damnit…" He cursed, picking up the call button for his nurse.

"What's wrong?" Thomas asked, watching as John moved in discomfort under the blankets.

"My fucking catheter needs changed."

Thomas nodded, standing as the nurse stepped inside. "I'll wait in the hall."

John closed his eyes as he felt to nurse line the new catheter up, preparing himself for the burning pain that always came with the damned thing when it was forced into his body. "Fuck…" He groaned, wadding his hands up in the blankets to distract from the irritation. "Stop… wait a second." He breathed a sigh as Nancy paused for a moment, swallowing before he let her continue. "Okay."

Nancy rubbed some lube onto the catheter, hoping to make the process a little easier for him. "I'm sorry." She finished the job, covering him up again. "I wish I could make this a little more enjoyable for you."

"I just wish I could ditch the catheter and the damn feeding tube." He touched the tube that was taped to his cheek, running his fingers over it to the spot where it entered his nose. "Everything else I'm used to. But these, I can't stand."

She gave a little smile, checking his IVs and the flow of his medications. "How's your pain?" She asked, brushing his greasy hair back from his face.

"Not as bad as it was." He closed his eyes, suddenly too tired to function properly.

Nancy bit her lip, pulling the covers up higher on the teen's chest before she left his room. "Sleep well, Super Star." John hadn't seen the articles written about him in the papers, but she had, and John was quickly becoming the biggest rocker in the country. Her daughters had been ecstatic when they'd found out that John was one of her patients. She'd practically had to tie them to chairs to keep them from disturbing him while recovering. "I'll check on you in a little bit."