Love On Display

The old lady tutted as she walked passed and turned to her companion. "A street kid sleeping on her doorstep; Joan will not be pleased at all." The second lady agreed and they carried on walking down the street, not hearing Joan Sambora's shriek as she opened the door to find Jon slumped in front of her.

"Adam! Richard! Get down here now!"

Adam strode in from the kitchen, almost knocked over by Richie as he came hurtling down the stairs.

"What's the matter, mom?" Richie skidded to a stop, eyes widening as he took in the sight of his mom crouched down next to Jon. "Jon!" Richie knelt down next to Jon, fingers automatically going to his neck to feel his pulse. "Mom?"

"Adam, get the car ready. Jon needs to go to the hospital." Joan glanced down again at Jon, frowning at his blue-tinged lips. "And quickly," she added. "He's barely breathing." She smiled reassuringly at her son when she heard him swallow hard. His face was pale when she looked at him. "Don't worry, he'll be fine." She patted Richie's hand, placing the back of her other hand against Jon's forehead, frowning again as she felt his temperature.

Richie looked up as he heard the car engine idling. He gathered Jon into his arms, tears threatening to fall as he held the limp body cradled against his chest. He carried Jon over to the car and pulled a door open with one hand. He laid Jon down on the back seat and walked around to climb in the other side, shifting around until Jon's head was in his lap. Running his fingers through Jon's hair, Richie waited impatiently for Joan to get in the car.

"Hurry up!" He hissed, blanching slightly as Adam twisted around in his seat and glared at him. "Sorry," Richie took a deep breath and looked down at Jon before meeting his father's eyes. "I just…"

Adam nodded. "I know, son," he replied, putting the car into gear and pulling out onto the road. "But yelling at your mother isn't going to get us to the hospital any quicker."

Richie nodded and silence descended in the car, broken only but Jon's laboured breathing.

Richie ran his fingers down Jon's pale, bruised face. "Hang in there, JB," he whispered. "Don't die on me, please… Come on, don't do this to me." Richie sighed. "How much…"

"We're here," Adam interrupted, slamming on the brakes.

"Finally," Richie breathed, sliding out the car. He hooked his arms under Jon's knees and shoulders and, cradling him to his chest, carried him into the emergency department, following his parents and a nurse to a treatment room. He could vaguely hear his parents talking to the doctor but the majority of his attention was on the man in his arms, focussed on the sound of Jon's weak breathing. He growled softly when the nurse turned to him, trying to get him to lay Jon on the bed.

"No," Richie backed away slowly, shaking his head, panicked expression on his face; he'd almost lost Jon too many times recently and wasn't prepared to let him go now that he had him.

Joan stepped towards Richie. "Richie, I know how much Jon means to you, but if you don't let the doctors do their work he's going to die. You don't want that to happen do you?" Richie paled and shook his head. "Just lay him down on the bed, ok?" Richie's eyes darted between his parents, Jon and the doctors.

He nodded slowly. "Ok," He agreed, laying Jon down on the bed, running his fingers down the unconscious man's face. "I'm not going anywhere," Richie promised Jon.

"I'm going to have to ask you to wait outside," the doctor told them apologetically.

"You hear that Jon?" Richie bent closer to Jon, lips brushing over his sweaty forehead. "I'll be right outside, ok?"

Adam nodded and placed a hand on Richie's back, guiding him to a plastic chair, he and Joan taking a seat either side of him whilst they waited for the doctors to finish examining Jon.