You open your eyes and found that you were lying on your own bed. With consciousness comes the burden of the immense pain that accompanies any kind of injury, like a gunshot, in your case. You saw him enter the bedroom a tray in his hands. You tried to get up but he gently pushed you down on the bed. "Do you remember anything, Amy?" John Wick asked. "I remember everything, unfortunately. Those men were looking for you." You answered. He sighed and checked your IV drip and pulled your t-shirt up to check your wound. He looked tired and there were dark circles under his eyes. It looked like he had aged 10 or 20 years since you got attacked. "I'm so sorry, Amy.. I should've been there for you!" He whispered. "Hey, don't do this to yourself..." you whispered to him, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.
He was about to dress your gunshot wound when you flinched away from him. He gave you a puzzled look. "John, it will hurt like hell... don't touch it!" You implored him. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He placed the tray containing the first-aid kit, on the bedside table and focused his piercing gaze on you. "Injuries from knife, puncture wounds, stab wounds, and bullet wounds must be cleaned and dressed with fresh bandages after a certain period of time." He informed you. You moved away from him as fast as you could, shielding your wound from him. "I know what I am doing. I have to, given the line of my work." He said in a reassuring manner. You shook your head side to side. John sat down beside you on your bed and pulled you in his arms. He helped you lie down gently, with your head resting on his chest.
"Want to know about my "real work"? What I really do?" John asked softly. He looked you and found that you were already struggling to stay awake. You were being given some very potent and fast-acting painkillers and antibiotics to treat your condition. "Hmm," you murmured. He launched into his story about his childhood, and how he came to be who he was right now, and he heard your light snores fill up the room. He gently got up and took a small syringe from the tray and pushed it into your arm. "I am sorry, Amy. I wish there was another way." He said. When he made sure you were fully under, he pulled off your top, and started to dress your gunshot wound. There was a lot to be done as he found that your wound had got infected around the stitches. He cleaned the wound first, sterilized a sewing needle, and a pair of surgical scissors. Then he started to work on you.
When you woke up, you found him lying beside you, reading a book. "Hello, how are you feeling?" He asked, stroking your face gently. "I feel a little cold," you answered and he nodded in understanding. "That's because you keep running a temperature now and then. Your fever just broke," he stated as he kissed your forehead gently. "You know you are lucky that the bullet has missed most of your vital organs. You were unconscious for two days. I was so worried that I called my doctor to have a look at you. But getting shot for the first time, isn't pleasant for anybody..." he informed you. "What would I do without you John," you said weakly. He bent down and kissed your lips softly. "Well, you wouldn't be in this situation for the first place. Dinner's coming right up.." he said as he left your room. He brought you chicken soup and bread and almost fed you.
After a few weeks, John gave you the good news that your wound was healing up. He also warned you that it was going to get real itchy and you must not scratch it. He allowed you to take sponge baths once per day. He usually helped you take them most of the time. Once again, he informed you that he needed to go out to sort some things. He came back and informed you that it would be better if he moved you to the Continental Hotel for your safety. So, on a specific day, a car sent by the hotel, picked you up and deposited you to its lobby. The concierge/front desk manned by a very nice and polite African man, directed you to a double-bedded room in which you were supposed to stay with John Wick. He would frequently go out and return all bloody. You knew better to ask him too many questions about it.
One day, late in the afternoon, you both were taking a small nap. Your healing bullet wound woke you up as it was too itchy. You tried to ignore it and wanted to tell him about it. But you found his side of the bed empty. You reached the itchy wound with your hand and started to scratch slowly. It felt so good that you started to scratch harder. Nope, your nails weren't enough, so you took a pen and started to scratch it with its head. After a few minutes, you felt a blinding pain and checked to find that it was bleeding very hard. The skin around your wound was also red and swollen which explained the itchiness. You started to get dizzy and tried to reach the phone. It hurted too much to move. "John, please forgive me," you whispered as you blacked out. You opened your eyes into a room loaded with hospital equipment like heart monitor and other stuff. Oxygen tube was in your nose and you were hooked up to an IV.
An elderly man came to check on you. "Hello, my name is Winston. I am the manager of this hotel. John must have mentioned me?" He asked. You looked into the shrewd, kindly, and wisened face of the man and smiled. "I've heard so much about you that it almost feels I know you," you answered. He grasped my hand that is not hooked to the IV and squeezed gently. "You are much safer here than a hospital.. And he is busy tying up loose ends!" He stated, fixing you with his piercing gaze. When you did not say anything he just gave you a small smile. Then he bent down and whispered into your ear, " I am rooting for both of you."
YOU ARE READING
Carry Me Through The Night(John Wick X Female Reader)
Fanfic{CURRENTLY ON HOLD} John Wick stumbles into an unexplored frontier one fateful night. He was lying in the rain, broken, bleeding, and very close to losing his consciousness. He was praying to die, to let it all end, so that he can join his beloved w...
