Chapter Three-Hundred and Seventeen

John pulled a hair tie out of his pocket, pulling the long locks of his gray streak back with the hair that was hanging over his eyes and secured it at the nape of his neck. He could feel Claire and her father watching him, making sure he was alright to work, but he didn't give them the satisfaction of letting them know he sensed them.

He pulled his flannel off, tossing it onto a truck that the Red Cross had supplied for the cleanup. He let his eyes wander over the site, catching a glimpse of the man who'd saved his life almost sixteen years ago. He could tell the man didn't recognize him, who knew, maybe he'd even forgotten John existed.

Dominic hefted a cinderblock into the back of a pickup, wiping his brow on his forearm. He could feel a sunburn starting on his shoulders, and when he glanced over at his cousin, he saw that the Greek heritage wasn't protecting him as well as it usually did.

John jumped as a heavy boot stepped on the shattered glass beside him. "Holy-" He looked up at the man beside him, smiling when he saw that it was the same man who'd rescued him so long ago.

"Didn't I used to know you?" He asked, taking a seat on some stones and bricks.

John nodded, looking over to Clarissa was preparing a small lunch for the teams. "Lake Superior, 1968." He met the man's eyes, swallowing as he saw the realization hit him. "I was the little kid you pulled out of that crawlspace on 200 East."

"You've grown up." He smiled, looking at the old ear cuff on the kid's cartilage where a small scar had been from that night. "I never introduced myself, I'm Jerry Long."

John touched the cuff on his ear, little flashes of that night coming back. "John Bender." He shook Jerry's hand, nodding toward the rest of the family. "I'll introduce you to my family."

Jerry watched as John stepped between the obstacles in his path, able to tell that he'd once had a slight limp, though he seemed to walk normally now. "Was your limp from that desk that you were pinned under when I found you?"

John shook his head, barely remembering anything after he'd grabbed hold of that wire. "No. My old man got real abusive when we moved back to Illinois. He busted my leg when I was ten, and it never really healed right after that."

Jerry thought back to the parents of this child, how the mother had been worried for him, but his father had almost seemed upset that he'd even survived. "I knew that something wasn't right there." He placed a hand on John's back, shocked that he didn't flinch or move away after having just told him about his past. "You must not be with them anymore then?"

"No. I was in foster care for the last year, and even though I'm eighteen, I still live with them." He gave Claire a hug, planting a kiss on her lips and swiftly sticking his tongue into her mouth to press on that one spot that got her hot. "Claire, this is Jerry. He's the guy who saved my ass from drowning."

Claire's cheeks were bright red, and her eyes were almost twice as wide as they normally were. "Why do you always do that right before you introduce me to someone?" She smacked his chest, leaving a red mark under his tank top.

John laughed, tracing a soft hand over the nape of her neck. "I'm sorry, Sweets." He tilted his chin down, pressing his forehead against hers and gazing into her eyes as his changed to the softest brown she'd ever seen.