Man's Best Friend [John Wick x Male Reader]

Chapter 2 - Revenge Is Sweet

"This is?" John asked, surveying the room you'd decided to treat him in.

"This is where we bathe the dogs. Believe it or not, it's the most sanitary room in this whole house."

"That's...reassuring," he remarked. You barked out a laugh.

"Clearly you're not hurting enough if you're being snarky.

"Oh I'm hurting plenty don't worry."

You stopped getting the materials you needed ready and surveyed his expression. "You need morphine?"

He looked taken aback. "You just have it on you?"

"Made a habit of it."

"I don't think I trust you enough for that," he said before adding, "Sorry."

"I understand. Being treated makes us feel vulnerable. Is that why you didn't go to the hospital? You could have easily bullshitted and said it was a mugging gone wrong."

"Like you said, I'm not a very good liar. Ends up being more trouble than it's worth."

"Oh right the fucking police reports too. Hate that shit. Takes forever."

John hummed in agreement.

"Can I take off your shirt?"

"Uh. Sure."

You slid your hands into the sleeves of his suit jacket to comfortably slide it over his arms. Thankfully his shirt was a button up so you set to work unbuttoning it.

"Was your wife okay with this shit?"

You felt him tense. "No."

"My husband wasn't either. Which was ironic considering he was the soldier but whatever. Not that he was around when I lost the plot."

"I'm sorry," he muttered awkwardly as you slid the bloodstained shirt off his torso.

"Ditto. What was her name? If you wanna talk about it."

"Helen. Your husband?"

"Lance of all things. If you can name your baby Lance I should be allowed to call mine Sword or something."

"You said he was a soldier?" He asked, wincing as you cleaned the wound with some gauze and surgical spirits.

"Yeah. Combat medic."

You inspected the wound, noting that while the wound was deep, the knife had mainly stabbed through the oblique. You could just stitch it up.

"When did you realize that you loved him?"

You laughed softly. "Most people usually ask how we met first. You don't beat around the bush much, do you?"

"I've been told I can be blunt."

"Unlike this fucking knife. Cut is real smooth."

You readied the needle. "I'd honestly been friends with him for a while. He came back from a tour and I remember seeing him at the airport, thinking, 'If he died and I hadn't spent every waking moment with him, I would regret it'. Then in a rather awkward fashion I approached him and said, 'I think I'm probably in love with you'. Unthinkingly actually, because he was in front of his colleagues. Had he been less of a fucking angel he'd probably had gotten mad at me."

John eyed the needle, forlorn but accepting. "What did he say."

"Jesus, took you fucking long enough."

"That's what he said?"

"Yup."

He let out a chuckle. "Ironically, that's pretty much how it went with Helen."