Clarissa's Past [COMPLETED]

Chapter 30

Clarissa's POV:

Soon after, I found myself on the side of his bed with my head laying on it.

Will sat down on a spare chair and Alan went to get some food.

"Clary, are you okay?" Will asked.

"I'm fine." I replied.

I heard him standing up and coming beside me. I lifted my head to look at him.

He pulled another spare chair beside mine before sitting on it. He put his arm around me like he did in the waiting room.

I rested my head on his shoulder while he rubbed my arm.

"He's okay now." Will said.

"I know. It's just that....at home....he.. It was like..... he was....he was sure that he was going to.....die and..." I stumbled upon my words.

"It's fine."

"Are you okay?" I asked Will.

"Yeah. I'm okay." He said.

The door opened and Alan stepped inside holding a couple snacks in his hands that he no doubt got from the vending machine.

"I got food." He said.

"Snacks." Will corrected.

"Whatever. It's the same thing." Alan said.

I lifted my head from Will's shoulder.

"What did you get me?" I asked.

"I got a bunch of stuff. Just eat what you like." Alan answered, putting the snacks on the chair where Will sat previously.

*~*

A couple hours later, I felt someone tug on my hand. I didn't even know when I fell asleep.

I opened my eyes when I felt another tug. When I looked up, I saw Will.

"Claire..." He pointed at dad.

I turned my head in the direction he pointed at and gasped. I never felt this much relief in my life.

"Dad!" I exclaimed and hugged him tight.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me, returning the gesture.

"I love you, dad." I mumbled.

"I love you too, sweetheart." He whispered, kissing my forehead.

"Dad..." I looked up at him. "What the hell got into you at home?" I asked, letting go of him and my voice turning hard.

"Language." He said.

"Forget the damn language! What got into you at home? Why the hell didn't you want to live? Do you know how worried I was? I am tempted to sign you up for therapy sessions. You know that? How could you be so sure that you-" I was cut off by Will putting his hand on my mouth.

"No more questions. And you don't have to sign me up for therapy. I just thought that it'll be a little dramatic." He answered.

I gasped. I removed Will's hand, who willingly let me, and asked, "By scaring the crap out of all of us?! Dad you definitely need therapy. How many dramatic movies have you been watching these days? You know how-" He cut me off yet another time.

"Clary. I just woke up. Give me a break." He said.

"You don't get breaks when you're working."

"That's different."