Saving Grace

My eyes were sore as I forced them open the next morning and much to my disappointment, I felt worse than I had before. My headache had only intensified and I still had the urge to vomit. I glanced at the alarm clock unwilling to move, unwilling to get out of bed for that matter.

Though I had no energy and absolutely no motivation, I rolled over to see if John was awake or asleep. Fortunately, I found it was the latter and I buried my face in the mound of pillows in attempt to fall back into some sort of a comforting slumber.

I heard a soft sound, like that of papers being shuffled minutes later. Slowly, I peeked up and leaned over the edge of the mattress to find John now laying on his stomach as he wrote in nearly indistinguishable lettering.

He glanced up, sensing my presence and gave me a small smile. "'Morning."

In the sour mood I was in, I simply glared at him before flopping back down into the stack of pillows. "Not ready to talk about last night, I see," he said, the quiet, barely audible sound of pencil scrawling against his notebook paper filling the room.

"Nope," I said, my voice muffled by the pillows that were engulfing my head.

We stayed in silence for the longest time and I soon felt my eyes watering. I made no attempt to move as my teardrops started to soak into the Egyptian cotton pillow case.

"Amelia?" John asked.

I wrapped my arms around the pillows, hugging them to me. "What?" I asked, though he more than likely couldn't understand me.

There was silence, as if he wasn't sure what to say. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes."

There was another silent pause. I kept my eyes pinched closed, the sound of John's soft breathing and the air conditioner humming lightly from downstairs seemed loud. "Would you like some breakfast?" he asked.

I shook my head 'no' in response.

"Are you going to stay in here all day?"

"Q-Quite possibly," I replied.

"If that's what you want to do...." he trailed off as if trying to persuade me against my words.

"I do."

"Okay." I could feel the mattress sink lightly as he pulled himself off of the floor. Just like that, he left me to sit in my misery.

I must have fallen asleep because before I knew it, the blinds were being lifted and I groaned in protest. "It's time to get up," John stated, his voice sounding optimistic.

"No. Ten m-more minutes," I whined.

"You've been sleeping all day," he said, his voice firm. "I refuse to allow you to lock yourself in here, now get up and get ready."

I recognized the scent of his cologne before realizing that he was dressed as if he was about to go out. He was clad in a black button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a pair of Toms and skinny jeans. "What? Where are you going?"

"We are getting out for a while so I suggest you get ready unless you want to go out wearing that," he said as he gestured to my old, ratty pajamas that I didn't have the heart to throw away.

I studied his serious face for a long beat before sighing and reluctantly getting out of bed. He smiled in satisfaction. "That's better," he said as I pulled an outfit out of my suitcase. I shot him a look with nothing but annoyance and anger behind it. Huffily, I stalked over to the bathroom and closed myself inside to change.

Stupid John and his stupid threats...

No one appeared to be home when I was finally ready to go and naturally, I questioned John on their absence. "Mom and Dad are out for the evening. Shane is gone with his friends yet again and Ross... Who the hell knows where that guy is."

It was actually kind of saddening to me. Bree only had so much time left and two of her children were out and about, having a social life in a time that, in my opinion, was needed for family.

Then again, I really wasn't one to suggest what a good family life contained. My own was pitiful.

"W-Where are we going?" I asked, concealing my eyes behind my sunglasses as we stepped into the blistering Arizona evening. It was nearly sunset and yet the temperature was insanely high.

"Dinner and then where ever you would like to go."

Home, that would be nice.

Of course, that obviously wasn't an option.

-----

I sat across from John in a small pub, the stool I was seated on lifting me off the ground so high that my feet could barely touch the floor. It was neither one of those rowdy places where people were staggering all over the place nor was it overly crowded. Music played from a juke box though no one was really listening. The people appeared to be regulars and no one really looked glum. This was a comfortable setting for me.

I looked to my non-alcoholic strawberry daiquiri and ran my index finger carefully around the edge of the glass my beverage was being contained in. When I lifted my eyes, they immediately were met by John's. "So, why did you bring me here?" I asked. I had to admit, it was nice not having to shout for someone to be able to hear me like in a majority of the clubs and bars I went to.

John folded his arms on the table top, leaning toward me. I noticed that he did this often, as if I had something interesting to say. "They have good food," he replied simply before reaching for his bottled water which had a light film of condensation covering the plastic.

I watched as he untwisted the plastic cover before my eyes drifted to the martini glass set in front of me. I pressed my fingertips to the base of the fragile glass as he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a small sip. "I-I can't believe I slept through the whole day," I said to break the silence. "It's not very often that I do that."

I didn't have to look up to know that John was smirking. "Can I ask what you were doing last night when you disappeared?"

"No, you cannot," I said not pulling my eyes up from my already chipped nail polish.

"Fine," he replied, not sounding angry in the least. He didn't sound pressing or even agitated with my answer. "Where would you like to go after this?"

I shrugged. "Back to bed," I whispered after a moment. I didn't think he heard but when he laughed humorlessly, I knew that he had.

"No way. We are finding something entertaining to do." There was a pregnant pause before his brow lightly furrowed, his mind finally registering my words. "How can you still be tired?"

I shrugged.

Crying wears me out is what I wanted to say but I bit my tongue.

I picked up my daiquiri and took a small sip as one of the bar workers carried over our food.

With that, we settled into silence as we ate.