Hey guys I have been wanting to write both a Morganville and a hurt/comfort story with actual injuries instead of emotions for a while now and I got my friend vampaddict2010 =) to fall in love with Morganville and she was reading Midnight Alley today and she cried when she got to the part when Jason stabbed Shane, (I did to so I can't make that much fun of her lol) and I had always wanted more detail in what happened between the stabbing and when Claire was comforting him afterwards so I decided to write it myself lol.

So this one is for you girl!!! Love ya!

When I woke up, I was alone. I wasn't expecting this, I has assumed that it would be like in all the books; when the hero was wounded he would wake up and the love of his life would be sitting beside him, holding his hand, willing him to wake up. And the strength of her love would be the only thing that could pull him back from unconsciousness. The books lied. That didn't happen in the real world. In the real world Claire was not here. In the real world there were visiting hours. There were rules that were preventing her from being here with me. And I needed her. In the real world you didn't wake up in your own comfortable bed, propped up on a bunch of feather pillows; you were stuck in a hard, lumpy hospital bed. Whenever the wounded hero in the books was in any pain, all that pain would go away as soon as his Love's lips met his. But instead in the real world I woke up to pain, and it wasn't getting any better. My chest and stomach felt like they were on fire. My head was pounding and all the bright lights above me were not helping. The rest of my body felt like one giant bruise.

There was something in my throat that was preventing me from talking, so I couldn't even yell for someone to come help me. And it was that bad. To the point that I was willing to take help from someone, anyone, who would offer it. And coming from me, that was a scary place. I needed to distract myself, I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take. So I started to think about what had happened to put me here in this living hell…

I remembered Jason. The knife. That flash of white hot pain, so sharp that it had been blinding. That pain should not have been there, not from a single punch to the gut. But that had not been a normal punch. I had known that as soon as he drew back his fist. I had saw the glint of silver between his fingers, but as that fist drew closer, I couldn't bring myself to dodge it, I stood there and took it. Because I knew that if I moved he would be even more pissed. And then Claire would be in more danger, and it wouldn't be worth it. I would protect her no matter what. I would keep Claire safe.

Claire. I knew that any doctor would have a perfectly reasonable medical excuse as to why I was still breathing. Why my heart was still beating. But it had nothing to do with any of that. I remember Claire screaming for me as my legs finally gave out and I fell to my knees. Claire leaning over me as I collapsed flat onto the sidewalk, my own blood making a pool beneath me. Her small hands suddenly were causing me even more pain, trying to save me; I hadn't thought it was possible to be in any more pain at that moment, but once again, as she had time and time again, Claire Danvers surprised me. But as much hell as those beautiful little hands were causing me, they were the only thing that had kept me from giving in to the cold darkness that was working it's way around the edge of my vision.

So I held on for her. I had to, I couldn't trust Michael now-that girl's body, the holes in her neck caused by those stupid fangs that had taken residency inside his face… how could I leave Claire alone with the chance that he would do that to her!? So I stuck it out, for her. I began only focusing on her voice as she mumbled quiet pleas to nobody in particular that I would be ok. She didn't know that she was talking out loud. But that voice and those hands… those eyes that could still make me loose my train of thought even now; those eyes were pouring tears, her mascara making little black rivers down her ivory skin, but even through all her despair she never took her eyes away from mine. And she kept me alive.

I didn't realize when the ambulance came. All I knew is that suddenly her hands were gone from my skin, I couldn't hear her anymore. I hurt to bad to turn to try to find her, but I knew that I had to, I couldn't do this without her! But firm hands were pressing me down to the pavement, preventing me from moving. Without Claire there with me, I couldn't seem to find my strength. The darkness filled my vision and I felt my swollen eyelids close heavily. I wasn't in as much pain as I had been before, I couldn't think straight now. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but I didn't have a choice. I only had time for one last thought before I was taken over by the darkness, "Claire."

It was quite ironic that when the pain had finally driven me over the edge of my consciousness, Claire had been my last thought; and now, after thinking through all of this, reliving the pain over again had worn my already weakened body to the point were I was beginning to be sucked into blackness again. I knew that somebody probably should know that I was awake, or that I HAD been awake, but I didn't care. I wanted to get away from the pain, and if unconsciousness was the only way to do this, I would welcome it. But I just hoped that when I woke from it this time, I would not be alone.

"Claire" once again, the thought of her was the center of my thoughts. Even as I went under again, she was still the center of my world…

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