Warriors ⎜ John Wick

Decem

Jessica laid awake that night, listening to John's labored breathing and the beating of her own heart. 

For the life of her, she couldn't decipher why she had told John her entire backstory. She could have simply said she had lost her husband and left it there. Honestly, she didn't have to answer at all. She had no obligations to John to be open and truthful.

But deep down Jessica knew that it was because she didn't want John thinking she could relate to his grief when she was nowhere close to understanding it. She didn't want to lie to John and see the pain in his eyes when he inevitably found the truth. She didn't want to hurt him.

And that was even more confusing.

Jessica had just fallen into a fitful sleep with her head throbbing when she heard something zip through the air and land in her pillow. Jessica propped herself up on her elbows only to be shoved off the bed by John. He landed on top of her protectively, as they were shot at from the front of the room.

John quickly pushed a dazed Jessica underneath the bed before he got to work. The cloud of sleep still hovered in Jessica's mind and the quickness of John's movements had left her stunned and confused. All she knew for sure was that John was fighting someone who was prepared while he had just been woken up and was still licking his wounds. Jessica could hear John talking to whoever had broken into their room between the sounds of a struggle and grunts of pain.

A light thump a few feet from her head snapped Jessica out of her haze. To her left a sleek pistol lay discarded on the floor, surely the weapon that had just been used to fire at the two. Jessica slowly shifted towards the other side of the bed and was just about to reach out for the gun when a body hit the floor right next to her.

Jessica gasped and inched back towards the center of the bed, terrified of what might happen if she were to move again. Just before the person got up and leapt back into the fight, Jessica was able to identify her as Miss Perkins, the woman she had briefly encountered in the lobby.

John's body hit the floor next down at the foot of the bed. Though he quickly stood back up, Jessica held her breath anxiously in worry for the hitman and prayed that he still had enough brute strength left to make up for the agility he lacked in that moment.

Jessica didn't dare to move as she listened to the two fighting and destroying everything in their path. The table fell to the ground with a heavy thunk and all of Jessica's tools slid off, clattering softly onto the carpeted floor. Above her the mattress dipped dramatically for several moments and all Jessica could hear was the sound of someone struggling to breath. The mattress returned to its resting position and the room fell silent for a few seconds, but was then flooded with the sound of glass shattering. 

John finally picked up the phone that had been ringing throughout the entire ordeal, but Jessica couldn't focus on what was being said with blood rushing through her ears.

And then everything fell silent.

The room had gone quiet, eerily so.

Heavy footsteps approached the bed where Jessica was hidden and she released a breath she had been holding for the entire conflict. John's face appeared next to her and she launched herself out from her hiding spot at him. Jessica wrapped her arms around the hitman for a moment before she stepped back to examine him yet again. Thankfully he only had a smattering of scrapes and bruises, nothing serious to match his knife wound.

John's hand moved to the side of her face as he too examined her for any injuries. A minor rug burn stained her cheek and part of her arm, but other than that she was untouched. Jessica closed her eyes as John's hand trailed into her hair and she relished in the comforting touch, but she was shaken from her reverie when John pulled forward a lock of her hair and ceased his movements. She opened her eyes, planning to ask what was wrong, but stopped when her gaze followed his. In his hand John held several strands of red hair that were half the length of what they had originally been.

Jessica pivoted to face the bed and almost threw up at what she saw.

On her pillow where her head had just been resting lay the other half of hair, just below a small hole where the first shot had hit.

In that moment Jessica felt weaker than she ever had before. For the first time since this journey had started Jessica finally understood how dangerous this world was. She had gotten a taste of it in the attack at her home, but John had still been the target. Being with John had put her on a radar that she had no idea even existed until a few days ago, and now all she wanted was to get off of it.

"I can't do this."

John sucked in a breath and turned the woman around. 

"What do you mean you can't do this?"

Jessica looked up at him with wide eyes. "You said staying with you would keep me safe, but all it's done is paint a fucking target on my back. I want to get out of here and go home."

John studied her for a moment. "You can't."

Jessica's mouth fell open as John turned to gather their things and move to a different room seeing as their current sleeping quarters were completely trashed.

"Excuse me? This is my life, I can do what I want with it."

"Do you want to die?" John didn't even bother turning around to face her.

"W-what? No, of course not," Jessica spluttered.

John turned and towered over her then. "Then I need you to listen to every thing I say and follow every order I give you. If you leave this building, chances are you'll be dead before you even reach your front door. The people after me know about you. They know that you saved me, they know where you live, and they know what you look like. Very few people are willing to violate the rules of the Continental and it is the only thing other than me keeping you safe. So yeah, it's your life and you can try to leave but I won't fucking let you."

Jessica glared up at John. She had started this and she couldn't damn well back down now. 

"Why the fuck do you care so much?" There was a hint of disdain in her voice that she hadn't intended to let out.

John released a frustrated groan and tore at his hair. He turned as if he was about to walk away but came back to her and exploded

"Because I couldn't save my wife or even my goddamn dog, and I'll be damned before I fail anyone else!"

Jessica jolted back, landing on the bed. The guilt and anger in that one statement was enough to physically shake her. But the anger was not directed towards her. It was anger with himself for not being strong enough and not having the abilities to save the ones that he loved.

Jessica looked to John who had crumpled in on himself at the foot of the bed. His body was curled inwards and his hand were buried in his hair. John's shoulders almost imperceptibly shook, but Jessica picked up on it after years of studying the human body. She reached out to him with a hand she hadn't realized was shaking.

The tips of her fingers hardly grazed his back when he lurched forward as if he had been burned. John stood and walked out of the room, keeping his head low so that his hair hung down and covered his face.

Jessica stared after him. Her entire body still shook and she longed for some form of comfort after the events of that night. But her heart screamed at her to run after John and be that comforting presence for him, to tell him that there was nothing he could have done to save his wife and that she would adhere to his orders from here on out.

But her limbs felt as if they were made of lead and couldn't be moved by any amount of strength.